#sick and whimsy-less

[spacejammie-eimmajecaps]

It's my birthday tomorrow, and so far, I've received a set of cutting boards and a new silverware separation thing to go in my silverware drawer, which are things I asked for (along with some other household stuff I need that my brothers will probably get for me), but I'm feeling a distinct lack of whimsy that I'm going to have to make up for with whatever celebration happens tomorrow, except I'm sick right now and don't have the energy to do any of the things I was considering

[akisteahouse]

Soulmates. A concept where in a world of magic, talking direbeasts and overblots, were believable enough, with families passing down tales of romance and tragedies generation to generation. Some describe meeting their soulmate like a love-at-first-sight encounter, others say it feels like finding a missing puzzle piece, an instant click.

So… what do the Savannaclaw boys think of meeting you, their soulmate, for the very first time?

Jack Howl! Who had been fed all the fantastical stories of soulmates ever since he was a child - constantly begging his parents to tell him the tales over and over again, before repeating the tales as bedtime stories to his younger siblings, to the point that they had long gotten sick of it, asking him to read them something else for once, please? So, of course, Jack had expected - no, waited - for his soulmate to come, eventually. Hopefully, by the time he’d graduated Night Raven, opened up maybe a gym, with a nicely furnished apartment of his own, with a small balcony to put his cacti… but fate had other plans. You. Just another student walking the vast halls of Night Raven. And yet. Just the sight of you made his face burn hotter than the many days of running track under the sun ever could, the blood roaring louder than waterfalls in his ears, the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart beating against his chest… oh, and his tail thumping on the floor. Wait, what? Thanks to you, he simply can’t focus on any of his classes and club activities anymore… what a bad influence! >:( As his soulmate, you ought to take responsibility… By following his principles, of course! Which means he’ll have to be around you to make sure you follow them! Whatever shall you do… ;)

Ruggie Bucchi! Who never really thought much of it. Sure, sure - he’d meet his destined soulmate, and then what? Partners were costly, and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, what kind of idiot would want to date, much less marry, some poor street rat? No one, he supposed - and he really couldn’t blame this mysterious soulmate either. Sure, granny would nag him constantly for this belief, telling him to ‘Have a little whimsy!’ But he couldn’t. Because whimsy took up time, and time was something he couldn’t afford. Until he met you, that is. It was a complete accident - you were simply yet another unassuming person who had just bought a sandwich from the school’s canteen, the same sandwich that everyone wanted. Which meant Leona had to get it and sent Ruggie to steal it for him. So, Ruggie did what he always did. He sneaked up to you, snickered, and was about to use his unique magic when - oh. You heard him. Well, that didn’t happen often. Your eyes locked into his, and he felt his knees weaken, his tail twitch, and his hands tremble. “Y-You - Laugh With Me!” Who then proceeded to run away with non of the limbless agility he usually possessed, face burning pink. Ohnonononono - absolutely not. Unless? But you - agh, he forgot Leona’s stupid sandwich! Hey, soulmate - help him out here, pleaaaaaaaaase? ;)

Leona Kingscholar! Who wasn’t really fond of all that soulmate crap. After all, his parents weren’t soulmates, and the only soulmated pair in his family were Falena and his wife, and that was just a lucky fluke. Besides, even if he did meet his soulmate, if they weren’t royalty? End of that relationship. Who was he to say that he’d even meet his soulmate? Hundreds and hundreds of people lived in Sunset Savanna, much less the entire world of Twisted Wonderland, so the chances of finding them realistically were slim. The thought had never really bothered him much - after all, he couldn’t miss someone he don’t know. And then, you happened. Just another fool who’d stumbled upon him napping in the botanical gardens, with the luck of accidentally waking the prince up. He had lazily cracked his eye open, tail twitching in annoyance when - huh. His heartbeat raced, eyes boring into yours with an intensity. Great Seven. His ears twitched for any sounds from you, tail unconsciously curling around your ankle. Soulmate. He’d actually managed to meet his soulmate. What kind of cruel prank was this? (Do expect to get trailed and used as a human pillow now. Sorry not sorry. ;) )

[spontaneousful]

coming up to bat once again for darling's hairstyle because none of you appreciate the pouf enough 😭 like if any of you know one thing about me it better be that i don't play when it comes to loving darling's hair

1) darling's pouf is clearly supposed to be reminiscent of marie antoinette as a sign of status, wealth, and--most importantly for darling--hyperfemininity

like besties please, darling's design is supposed to be an over-the-top display of wealth because as a charming princess, her life is a status symbol. she should look more luxurious, her pouf should look way too high and perfectly in place. her appearance should tell everyone who looks at her that she has the power and money to do nothing.

even daring and dexter lean more into the royalty aesthetic than the other male characters though they should be more glamorous tbh. the charming family should giving off that old money vibe. that i-could-buy-a-small-country-and-still-be-dripping-in-wealth vibe. that so-much-money-it-makes-you-sick vibe.

additionally, darling is a royal. she is someone who attracts a lot of attention while trying to keep a secret. the more attention is pulled to her giant hair, her flashy outfit, her expensive jewelry, the less people are actually looking at her. instead, they see the perfect charming princess she wants them to see, and not her increasing muscle mass.

2) and more importantly

hair poufs freaking eat. hair poufs bring the drama and i am always down for drama. like theyre honestly pretty versatile and would work with a lot of different styles. all you do is take a hairstyle and slap some volume on the top to say "look at me." hair poufs aren't weird you guys have no flavor, no whimsy. bump that shit up. maybe i am just a fan of volumious hairstyles but maybe you should be too

[pineconepie]

These posts got me feeling whimsy!!!

Now I gotta ask, how would your ocs react/handle a crybaby reader? (I ask since I am sensitive and cry a lot💀)

Hope u have a great day/night!!!!

Sorry I'm replying to some of these so late, but tysm!! <3

Octavian would worry profusely, gently asking if there's anything wrong and getting you tissues, tea, or blankets, or perhaps taking you into his arms to cuddle.

Octavian is always patient and sweet, but this would bring out a whole new level of softness in him. He wouldn't ever complain or feel put off by this, it just makes him want to protect and shield you even more than he did before.

.

Vincent would coo at you and pepper your face in kisses, scooping you up bridal style and twirling you around in his arms. Vincent adores that his little prince/princess/royal needs extra affectionate love to get back onto their feet again!!

And he'll be ready to provide all the hugs, kisses, and tender words a sweetheart like you needs <3 and on top of that, would be extra silly to cheer you up, even if he needs to every minute of the day.

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Indigo would burst into tears along with you, scooping you up and squeezing you tight against him, sobbing "It's okay, shhhh.... Papa is here" even though he's blubbering harder than anyone.

He's a bit of a crybaby himself, and cries often when you do, even if there isn't a real issue and you were just crying because you pricked your finger.

.

Magnus thinks you're just constantly cold, tired, hungry, or sick. Every time you cry, he assumes it is a medical emergency or that he's doing something wrong and he needs to improve.

Magnus would try to shush you with snuggles, food, or warmer furs. Each time it doesn't work, he grows more distressed, but will never get angry with you about it, just frustrated with himself.

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Seradiel would know there's nothing seriously wrong, since he has witnessed your crying spells multiple times, but that doesn't make him less doting toward you.

He's ready with some water and a fluffy blanket, ready to cuddle and remind you that Papa loves you more than anything in the world and he's there to protect you. His presence alone calms you down rather quickly, just because he has that effect as an angel.

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Warren, unshockingly being the bastard he is, just uses this as further proof you need to be here with him, where he can keep you safe and sheltered.

As a method of calming you down, he uses soft, sweet words, or distracts you with a game or snack. He'll be quick to hold you as soon as he notices tears or the signs of distress, and reminds you he'll always be there for you forever and ever and ever and ever and ev

[npookie0]

Hi hi feel free to ignore this ask since it's kinda boring but I was wondering if you could write headcanons of the Lis with a reader that DESPISES summer like the heat and all the bugs that come out they absolutely hate it and thank you for all ur hardwork on ur fics I absolutely love them !!

Heat Hater

I'm so glad that someone wants to read headcanons about me <3 / j

Killer Chat Love Interests x mc who hates summer

Emo Olympics :

He very likely hates it too, he can't wear most of his sick sick emo clothes and black clothes + sun are not like us, they're not a great couple

My man doesn't really give a fuck about bug but since you hate them so much he will buy a restock of bug spray because the one he owns is half empty and five years old

Ronin takes a water for you everywhere and gets your ice cream whenever you get out

"Awh? Can't take a lil heat? Yeah, same here, let's get outta here before we end up like boiled eggs." He probably has a fan in his room and that fan is the main attraction in his room for the two of you when summer is around

She Bites :

She gets you on the bugs, especially mosquitoes, she has to be super careful so they don't bite her, spray for insects is her best friend and she uses it on you too 'just in case'

A hot woman is not afraid of some heat!! Also what's the difference between five hundred studio lights and the sun? Both are bad for her and both make the places she's in unbearably hot. Luckily because of that Angel has ways to make the high temperatures more bearable

Sunscreen is your new best friend now too. "Listen you my not care about the UV light during the winter, but now you HAVE to use this, okay baby? Great."

"It's too warm? I know love, we can go back to my place, I have AC so we won't die of overheating there."

Whimsy Pal :

No magical ways on dealing with the hit, you both suffer and hate it, the trailer's floor is surprisingly cold and you two occupy it like your life depends on it.

Ice cream for breakfast, lunch and dinner, because keeping cold is important.

You two just run away from the bugs and fight them in their trailer if they intrude

"I hate it too honey trust! But we'll survive... somehow..." You mostly get out at night because it's not that bad anymore

Rich Guy :

V has a whole pool in that house I can bet and if not then he just takes you to a pool very often so you can a) spend some active time b) not die in heat (if you don't like pools then i'm sorry but i like them <3)

Sunscreen, sprays for insects, sun glasses (good quality ones) and clothes that won't make you suffocate in the weather. He has it all prepared, when did he do all that? No one knows, but at least you'll survive the heat without needing to worry about it

The heat doesn't bother him as much ("as a vigilante i need to be able to survive every weather condition" ahh) but he is always ready to change plans if the weather is too much for you

"Remember to hydrate, it may be hard, but if you really want the heat to be less troublesome then drink a lot." You've never drank more water and cold drinks in your entire life

They're a little silly, I hope that it's not too silly !!

meow meow

bai bai

love ya

nate <3

[paradoxlemonade]

Nature of Curiousity

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Characters: Joe & Cleo

words: 1024

Warnings: very mild body horror (Cleo is embroidering on Joe, but he's made of fabric and does not feel pain)

Ao3: Here!

Summary: Joe Hills the puppet wants to make friends with humans. The humans do not want to be made friends with. Cleo puts him back together afterwards. [Abecedarian Prose Poem]

@mcyt-valentines gift for @therizino-ao3! Hope you enjoy :]

...

A sunrise the color of a bitter lemon tea beckons in the fresh morning scent of grass and dreams, soft around the edges and losing their remaining sharpness as sleep turns to wakefulness. Beneath an old willow tree, a corpse as fresh as the day it died rests in the dewy grass and embroiders artful designs into her best friend’s shoulder.

Cleo huffs at him, “You know, it would’ve been nice if you had waited until at least breakfast to go galavanting around and get yourself shot by a humanfolk.”

Dauntlessly undeterred as per usual, Joe merely smiles serenely and says, “But I must watch them, as the rain must fall and snow must melt; it is in my nature, sewn into my skin.”

Even-spaced threads holding his innards on the right side of the felt are the only thing decorating his skin, by Cleo’s own observation.

“Fine as that may be, your ‘nature’ does not make you invincible to arrows.” Generally speaking, being made of cloth made Joe invincible to very little, save for perhaps pain and common sense. He would grow tired of his game eventually, and then he would stop attempting to consort with the humanfolk (at least, Cleo hoped he would tire of it).

“If I am endlessly repairable no matter my condition, is that not a form of invincibility?”

 “Joe, you can only be repaired if I have the pieces to put you back together; if the humanfolk decide it would be more fun to capture you instead of running you off, you would be in more pieces than magic thread could possibly hold together.”

“Killjoys—that being people who deny my innermost whimsy, that being you—” he gestured at her with the arm not being worked on, “should not judge how one chooses to express themself, especially when they are themselves of humanfolk blood.”

Less ever said about one Joe Hills’ innermost whimsy, the more sane one would be, as neither consistency nor thoughts of sound minds are facets of his being.

Minutes flow around them like a gentle brook as Cleo continues her stitchwork and pointedly does not give his comments the dignity of a direct response, at least until she thinks of one worth saying.

“No humanfolk,” she began slowly, “Would consider me possible by their understanding of the world, let alone ‘of their blood’; I have not been theirs for a very long time.” One day was all it took to lose everything that she’d built over the course of her entire life, as one day was all it took for the sickness that ravaged her village like a pack of wolves descending on a flock of sheep to bury her in an early grave that she didn’t stay put in.

“Perhaps that much is fair and you have no love left for them, but I have never been theirs; the humanfolk ways are unlike our own, and I find myself pulled in again and again despite all attempts to the contrary.”

Quickly fleeting curiosity would be too much to ask, she supposed, as temporary passion was also as antithetical to Joe’s nature as he claimed sedation to be.

 “Really, you can’t be all too mad at me for this, because if you were as upset as you pretend to be, you wouldn’t have offered to sew me back up, and you certainly wouldn’t have added these nice yellow flowers without me needing to ask.”

She glances down to her hands as if seeing them for the first time that morning, the hands that gently wove the thread in and out of his fabric skin with a practiced ease and the comfort of a close friend. This conversation—despite its distances—has still grown much too close to an uncomfortable shard of glass nestled deep into her chest, digging and poking into the soft tissue beneath her heart that she could not excise no matter how strong her will. 

“Unfortunately, we still live in a world where I need to sew you back up for reasons other than your own foolishness, and it’s not like I could simply let someone I’ve worked on walk around looking like I did the job carelessly.” 

Vexed enough by her candid response, Joe allows the conversation to wander along to more familiar territory by changing the topic with all the subtlety he could muster—that is, not a whole lot.

 “What type of flowers are these meant to be, anyway?” Joe asks, stretching to see Cleo’s handiwork.

“Xyris flowers, of some kind; they’re all over around here and you seem to like them well enough that I didn’t think you would mind if I put some on your arm.”

Yellow petals of soft thread cascade from the top of his shoulder down midway to his elbow, just shy of of meeting up with the dusky green vines—those were almost ready to come out, but the new stitches would have to stay for a few weeks so the fabric could knit itself back together. Zero weeks have gone in recent memory that did not end with one of Cleo’s friends needing stitches (usually Joe, and usually for silly and-or humanfolk reasons), but she never stopped pulling out her needle and thread before they could even apologize for bothering her.

And as Joe thanks her for the help and the flowers, she leads him back to her house for an early breakfast to cap off an odd morning, all the while dreaming of a world where the humanfolk and the otherfolk didn’t have to live on opposite sides of the veil, and Joe could make strangers into friends.

 Better worlds and broken hearts are playing cards of the same set, but a card for resilience is also shuffled into that same deck. Crisp toast and peppery fried eggs aren’t quite miracle workers, but they’re enough to bring Cleo back up to normal when combined with good company. Dreams weren’t going to come true on their own, but maybe Joe was onto something with his adventures.

 Everything considered, it took him an hour longer than last time to get run off.

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

I don't get why people hate on different fire emblem games. I've had a lovely time with every game I've played, even fates, which people for some reason insist sucks? It's so good. Here's my favorite things about each game I've played just cause. I am very sick so no one can criticize me btw.

Binding: obviously goes for all gba games but the battle animations are so!!!!! Lovely and charming. Roy's just a silly guy, Lilina :], the cast is excellent, everyone from the most insignificant playable characters to the nastiest of villains like Narcian and Jahn is just so fun and nicely written.

Blazing: I LOVE THE ELIBEAN LORDS SO MUCH THEY HAVE MY ENTIRE HEART AND SOUL. I think fe7 has my favorite cast. Everyone is awesome like in fe6 but cranked up a notch. And I quite like how this game isn't about war!!! Lyn's just trying to save her grandpa and Eliwood is searching for his dad. There's some hints of civil war here and there but ultimately less war than usual which is quite fun and interesting.

Sacred stones: I adore how the game is like. almost horror. In my ideal fe8 remake they would lean into the horror aspect a more and maybe have a higher age rating. I really love how it starts out like any other fe game then you start to see monsters and then there's the necromancy and characters like Riev who worship this vile demonic thing. And the art director for this game was Wada Sachiko! She was such an excellent choice for the art director because her style leans into the darker feel than fe6 and 7. Also I'm a Christian so I do really enjoy L'Arachel's character where she's obviously inspired by Christianity but not in an offensive way. She's a nice god(s) (?) honoring teenage girl full of whimsy and optimism!!! Also I love Eirika. Did a cosplay of her once and gotta say, I felt drop dead gorgeous in it lol.

Path of radiance: I have yet to finish this one but oh MAN do I love the artstyle and combat and character design. Not a single bad character, they're all nicely written. Except Devdan but he's not real if we ignore him. I love how believable Ike and Mist are as siblings and I got say I actually find the bad voice acting to be charming, especially in that opening cutscene where Mist says something like "you're finally awake! 'bout time!" like she's so silly and cute I would die for her. I also really love how Ike is not royalty, he's just some guy!!! With autism!!! Like for a while my view of Ike was kinda skewed by looking at super smash bros content of him so then playing the game and discovering he's such a kind, reasonable and autistic dude was a very pleasant surprise. Seriously though this dude NEEDS to get assessed. Anyway I quite like the laguz too. Reyson, Tibarn and Caineghis are my favorites and I'm excited to see more of Kurthnaga because he's got such a pleasant design. Also just. Caineghis is probably one of my top favorite character designs ever, like top 20. It goes so unbelievably hard.

Awakening: THE TRAGEDY. THE TRAGEDY OF EMMERYN'S DEATH. UWAAAGHHHHH. I love LOVE how Emmeryn is written, how you can't save her despite Lucina being able to time travel, how you're given the options "save Emmeryn? Yes or no?" and it doesn't matter if you pick yes cause she dies anyway. The cast is not quite on the same tier as fe7 or 8 and there's certainly some characters I do not like but my favorites really are just so wonderful and lovely. I'd kill and die for Henry, Maribelle, Libra, Gregor and like 5 other people. The child unit mechanic is also very fun! It's such a clever idea for a time travel game and it gives you so much control over how your units end up. The self sacrifice ending also makes me feel sick. /pos "there's better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Here, give me your hand" and then Robin reaches out to Chrom and the symbol of Grima is gone and when he pulls them in closer, he says "it's finally over." just. Ahdhdjsjsjsj!!!!!!!

Fates: now, I've only played birthright but it was a very nice experience. I went in expecting nothing and had my socks blown off. Combat is fun, characters are so silly billy and it's got such a nicely done representation of a broken families. It's nice. The characters and supports are nice, even if I do feel like we could've had a few less support chains. And idc if I doesn't make sense story wise, bringing back child units was fun!! Again with the unit customization but also it's so fun to give your favorite character a teenage/preteen kid that they have to deal with. Azama and Mitama's supports are peak silly. I think people would enjoy birthright more if they took it a little less seriously. It's full of whimsy and people ignore that in favor of comparing it to more serious games which I think is kinda unfair.

Shadows of Valentia: oh MAN. I LOVE THE TWO ARMIES MECHANIC!!!! And bangin' cast! Absolutely adore almost every single one of those gay bitches!!! The artstyle is so gorgeous and I hated the combat at first but grew a soft spot for it, it's so strange and I like it!!! Also the game is less hefty so my computer had an easier time running it than POR, awakening and fates which is quite nice too. I love Berkut's character (I won't defend him, he's a son of a bitch) and MAN Ian Sinclair really went HAM on that voice acting!!! Also Zeke and Tatiana feel handcrafted for me specifically. Angsty married couple? Where one has amnesia?? And the other is worried he'll leave her if he remembers another woman he was dating??? And they're voiced by Patrick Seitz and Cristina Vee, two of my favorite voice actors ever??????? SIGN ME UP!!!! I'm excited to eventually play the Marth games and see what else is up with Zeke :] also adore Celica, Silque, Jesse and Boey! Very nice, solid characters.

Three houses: different routes! DIFFERENT ROUTES!!!! You get to see all sides of a war and it's so fun piecing together the history of Fodlan and nature of Rhea's character as you play each route. And again, excellent voice acting!! And it was fun being in the 3h fandom when it first came out and seeing all the silly things the VAs did together. I've got like 400 hours on this game and it holds a special place in my heart cause it was the very first game I finished without help from siblings and it was my first fe game. Also banging soundtrack, fun and unique combat (LOVE battalions) and amazing characters.

Enage: now I'm only 8 chapters in, I think? Haven't been able to play it recently. But it's so fun! Before getting it, I hated the bright artstyle and character designs but they've grown on me and I have been enlightened so I now know that f!Alear is a cutie patootie and I love her. I love the mechanic of adopting animals. Like I am quite happy recent fe games have, in some aspects, become more a little more lighthearted and silly. I love variation in game series' and when the devs aren't way too formulaic!!! That being said I also love the archetypes!!! I just really love fire emblem :]

I'm excited to finish engage and POR and play more of the games :]

Sorry about the long ass ask, I'm full of love and I want people to know it because I wish other people could learn to be a little more positive and focus on the aspects of fe games that they like instead of being hardcore haters. Okay now everyone say thank you Senri Kita (fe9 art director) and Wada Sachiko

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[aworld-inpink]

just a quick warning, I do read most of the cast as trans in some way, especially the siblings, so if you get easily triggered by stuff like that, just don't interact please 😸

please be respectful of the space I have curated ��

Trans Obey Me! Headcanons ("brothers" edition)

Lucifer:

transmasc Luci genuinely brings me so much joy

like, the idea of him being the oldest and first to come out?

im in love

Lucifer is one of the more cut and dry ones to me

but I do love people who draw/write him as transfem, theyre the biggest troopers ever

Luci definitely acts as the main support for a lot of the others

especially when it comes to appointments for hormones

he/him, FtM

Mammon:

i am so insanely obsessed with this man

me and him are t4t trust

nah, but for realz

trans guy Mammon with the COOLEST top surgery scars, you will not catch them lacking

probably got a sick ass tattoo to give them a cool shape too

similar to the white on his chest in his demon design

off topic, but chubby Mammon actually makes me 🤤

need to be squished between his thighs yesterday bro

jjhjhjhjh they're so handsome look at that little guy go

i feel like he would say his pronouns are he/him but secretly wouldn't mind they/them also

he just feels like he would be seen as less of a guy

i love them

he/they, FtM (and so devastatingly bisexual (affectionate))

Levi:

everybody say thank you to Levi for inventing being transgender

she ..... she's my everything

if Mammons my boyfriend she's my wife bro

(Mammons my favourite, Levi just has more whimsy)

gamer girl

i NEED her bathwater gang you don't understand ......

i made a whole post about transfem Levi, you should check it out ;)

tho trans guy Levi also has a special place in my heart and my bed (he's just like me fr)

do you wanna know the good that flat girl Levi would do for the ecosystem??

it would end climate change

she/her, MtF, Ruri chan was her trans awakening (half joking (not really))

Satan:

oh Satan the demon that you are

yknow they do say that Satan invented the gays

this NERD

book lover? likes cats? BLONDE?

how much more she/he/they can you get bro

demon born out of hatred, aged from transgenderism

that's all I'm saying

do you think Satan would feel the need to tie himself down to one specific gender identity?

fool.

Satan is everything and Satan is nothing

she/he/they, shrugs (genderfluid would be most accurate, but they're mostly unlabeled)

Asmo:

see the fandom argues about Asmo all the time

"is it ethical to headcanon them as trans just cause they're feminine?"

well, no, not necessarily, but that's besides the point

Asmo's similar to Satan in the way of not being tied to one specific gender or expression

but I feel like she's much more aligned to being a guy than Satan is

like, he doesn't mind other pronouns and sometimes enjoys them

but I think she's bigender with a heavy masc lean

expression wise he's more fem, but gender wise she's more masc

she/him, bigender and so full of love

Beel:

him.

i. i love him so much.

he's genuinely one of the sweetest characters in the game, and someone I would genuinely like irl

anyways however

I feel like this one is very stereotypical of me

cause this is the same headcanon as most of the trans part of the fandom

but Beel is so very trans man

like, didn't have top surgery just exercised to turn his boobs into pecs typa trans man

he's so powerful

and so lovely

and so, so transgender

he/him, FtM

Belphie:

similar to Levi, I do actually have a separate post just about Belphie

so if you want a less brief headcanon, check it out

anyways

Beel and Belphie are both trans to me, even in scenarios when I don't see the others as such

but my thing about Belphie is massively projection and based off my own identity

I think Belphie is also trans, but doesn't pass, doesn't want surgery, and doesn't necessarily want testosterone

like, I think he would feel a bit isolated from his siblings, especially Beel sometimes, since they're all relatively passing

but Beel would reassure him and they would cuddle on bad dysphoria days together, tons of snacks piled onto the bed for Beel and movies on autoplay for background noise :)

he/him, nonbinary

[snowfolly]

A Silver Tapestry

Chapter 1: The Wrath of God

After the ice demon, Astarion, attempts to assassinate a god for his master, he finds himself bound, once again, to yet another deity.

His punishment is to serve the God of Winter for a time unknown to him, and his hours are filled with mundane tasks until the day that the god, Taliesin, asks the demon to spar with him.

Sparring leads to something much more than daggers at held other another’s throat, and they must learn to navigate romance with restraint as they fall hopelessly in love. However, all is not perfect, as Astarion must be freed from Cazador's grip before the time on Taliesin's binding curse is up, or he will have to return to the devil — which will not only tear him away from his divine lover, but certainly result in his death.

Taliesin must move carefully to avoid letting the entire winter realm, and perhaps the entire world, fall to ruins for the sake of liberating his beloved.

Or

A love story about a god and the demon that tried to murder him.

(Expect Whimsy)

CW: Violence, Pain (Astarion is Punished for attempted murder and has a bad time.)

Read on ao3 (link wasn’t working so here’s the whole thing lol)

-

Astarion’s stomach twisted into a sick knot of dread as he was led shackled and shambling to gaze wide-eyed upon the face of a god — one that he had tried rather unsuccessfully to murder only hours prior.

Early morning daylight softly backlit a wall of snow, which was falling steadily in an open space behind the lord of the winter realm. It threw his throne into partial shadow as motes of mage light drifted around his darkened form, bathing him in an ominous cerulean glow.

The god sighed dramatically, sprawled across his throne in an absurdly casual position — his legs dangled lackadaisically off of one onyx armrest as his elbow laid on the other; he propped his head on his hand as he regarded Astarion — who he clearly thought to be no more than a pissant — with weary disinterest.

Astarion swallowed dryly, realizing the god couldn’t even be bothered to sit up straight to judge him for his crime, lowly frost demon that he was… and this did not bode well.

At all.

“On your knees,” the deity murmured as the wall of snow behind him abruptly gusted into the room with an intense howling rush.

It whorled around Astarion from the ground up, and he gasped as the air was violently snatched from his lungs by a wind so frigid that he was certain they'd be ruined to ice. Cold typically didn’t bother him, not like this — he was a godsdamned frost demon, after all — but this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It was freezing torment, sending his entire body to chills and causing him to panic as he closed his eyes and struggled to breathe.

Was this it? Would he not even be able to speak to the deity before he died? Was this to be his end? He’d known this was a futile task, but he hadn’t had a choice! Cazador had commanded him, it wasn’t fair, but it never was…

“Fall to your knees, demon,” the god repeated with more vitriol and less tedium in his tone as Astarion’s eyes flew open to realize that the assaulting blizzard had been halted as quickly as it had been set upon him — and yet somehow he remained standing. Before he could properly gather his senses, the gauntlet-laden hands of godsknights unceremoniously grabbed at his shoulders, forcing him to fall to his knees with a sickening crack and bend low in prostration before their lord.

Astarion wasn’t at all sure how he could perspire after being nearly frozen alive, but a drop of sweat fell from the demon’s brow before it froze in midair. The tiny pellet of ice clinked against the marble floor and he took a deep breath to still himself, casting his eyes down as his mind raced, attempting to fathom a way out of the rather bleak situation at hand.

It was a rather futile attempt.

There was simply no way he could escape. He had no weapon — nor would he be able to use one if he did — his hands were bound tightly behind his back, and his ankles were tethered just as securely. His magic had also been dispelled so he could use no incantation to attack or remove his iron shackles, and even so, what chance did he stand against two armed knights and a god? He grit his teeth, for he had not a snowball’s chance in the summer realm.

This undignified moment was likely to be the last in his pathetic life — and pathetic though it was — he did not want it to end. He was not ready to die. Especially not like this!

At least in the pitiful life he led under Cazador he could still hold onto hope… but being damned by a god wouldn’t even allow him that meager respite. His soul would be lost forever to wander in the shadow hell. Darkness would become him, he would feel no passion, no joy, or hope — only the agony of biting cold and sorrow, of endless loss and shadows. Forever.

Astarion had come close enough to assassinating the divine being before him, and he had no choice but to face any punishment that the lord saw fit — and the frozen hell, grim as it was, was a likely outcome…

“Wake up!” The god said, snapping his fingers as Astarion’s eyes darted up once more to face the source of his inevitable end.

“Assassin! I was going to ask your name but that matters not, foul creature such as you are. Pray tell though, Fool — what daft bastard sent you to murder a god?” the deity asked contemptuously, still not deeming it worth his time to move from his lounging position. Astarion swallowed nervously before he cleared his throat to speak. He knew that the god knew exactly who had sent him, but alas…

“The Lord of Ice…”

“Oh my! You’d be clever to address me by my title, Fool,” the god said in annoyance as he flicked his wrist dismissively, and one of the knights roughly pressed the butt of his spear into the back of Astarion’s neck, forcing him to bow lower before their liege.

His title, though? This god had many monikers… Lord of Snow, Your Resplendence, Your Magnificence, God of the Winter Realm, Taliesin — so on and so forth.

If the situation wasn’t so dire he’d come up with more interesting epithets, but it’d be more shrewd to try and weasel himself out of eternal damnation. It would likely do him no favor in the end, but Astarion figured it would be best to grovel, kiss a bit of ass and address several of the lord’s stupid titles.

“Resplendent Lord of Snow, God of the Winter Realm, Taliesin,” Astarion managed in a quavering voice as the godsknight gave him another smarting blow on the back of his neck, causing Astarion’s crystalline horns to knock painfully against the marble floor. He felt one crack and he grimaced as some shards of it fell, tinkling like broken glass near his eye. “The Lord of Ice and keeper of the Frostlands, Cazador, my m… master, sent me.”

“To what end?”

“Well… to slay you,” Astarion said in confusion. Just what in the lower hells were Taliesin’s motives? The deity already knew this information, why was he posing questions as if he did not? Was it all simply to humiliate Astarion further?

“Damned devil. What have I done to slight Cazador this time? I extended my goodwill to him, inviting him to my little fete for the first time in centuries and he couldn’t even be arsed to make an appearance!” The god scoffed. “Is it a coincidence, Fool, that he sent an assassin on the same night?”

Of course it wasn’t.

“My master saw… well — he saw the invite as an insult, Your Resplendence. He’d said the summon to dine and be merry with a sworn enemy was the… the height of disresp…”

“Naturally he would, the fuckwit,” the god said sharply, cutting Astarion off. The demon stared blankly at the floor which lay scarcely an inch below his nose. His tail flicked anxiously as his eyes followed the veins of gray streaking haphazardly through the white marble, and he realized that this could be the last thing he’d ever see. How pathetically glum…

“What does Cazador wish to accomplish by sending a lowly demon to try and kill me? Again. Any thoughts on that rather preposterous maneuver, expendable one?”

Astarion knew that his master had sent many other demons to attempt to end Taliesin’s life in the past, well before his forced servitude, but none of those failed assassins had ever returned to his master’s keep. Cazador’s motivations were just as much of a mystery — what did he wish to accomplish, sending them to die?

“I do not know his intentions for those he sent in failed attempts on your life in years past, Your Resplendence. He ah… my master simply gave me the order to take your life,” Astarion said, recalling that the devil had gone nearly mad with rage since he’d gotten the invitation months prior. Rants regarding Cazador’s hatred for Taliesin were nothing unusual, but the tirades had gotten more and more frequent in the weeks leading up to the event.

The devil would often take his anger out on his imps and demons, throwing bottles of wine at them, having them whipped… and well, torturing them one way or another. Even if Astarion was sent back to his master, his fate would likely not be much better than the one he now faced. Cazador also had the capability of damning his soldiers and servants, casting them into the shadows — he’d seen it done to a steward once, and it certainly was not a pleasant end.

“Did he wish for you to take my life in an attempt to steal my full divinity?”

“Y… yes,” Astarion stammered. He thought that motive was clear — the soul stone meant to capture the god’s divinity had been taken from him, along with the rest of his possessions aside from the clothes on his back when he’d been thrown behind bars. The intention for the assassination was not hidden — and why else would Cazador be so adamant about ending the god? The devil was not subtle about his resentment of Taliesin, who held dominion over the entire realm — including ‘his’ Frostland.

“I see,” the lord murmured, as Astarion took another deep breath. It was nonsensical to even question the god’s interrogation, though. He was prodding and poking for something.

“Did you know, Fool, that your craven master had endeavored to assassinate me — desperately, I might add — for centuries before giving up and sending expendable little demons like you to try and do what he can not, and never will. So I commend you, Fool! You're the first of his flock that has ever come close to fulfilling his laughable dream. Good fucking job!” Taliesin’s wrathful voice reverberated sinisterly through the immense chamber as his diatribe ended, causing Astarion to flinch and flatten his ears against the painful echo before a deafening stillness fell upon the room.

His eyes continued to follow the streaks of gray in the marble, and the frost demon’s heart pounded out of his chest as he waited for something to happen — anything.

There were eight branches on one vein, and one of those veins held capillaries of another eight.

A killing blow, a word of death, racking pain, or the promise of eternal suffering — anything. But seconds wavered into minutes, and minutes turned into what felt like an eternity — and there was only lingering, dreadful silence.

If he wasn't so close to the veins, his eyes would adjust and he could probably see even more jagged branches coming off of the capillaries.

He did not want to die, the gods and devils only knew that he did not want to die! But this fraught suspense would surely end him, and perhaps that would be okay. He couldn’t be damned if he’d just go ahead and die of terror, right?

How many veins of gray streaked the marble in this immense throneroom? The branches would outnumber the stars, surely…

“What to do with you, what to do?” the god said finally, startling Astarion back into the moment as the sound of footsteps made their way toward him. He closed his eyes tightly, fighting tears as sweat continued to drip from his clammy brow, and the footfall stopped just before his pitiful hunkered frame.

“Look up at me.”

Astarion raptly obeyed, lifting himself from his deep bow to stare up wide-eyed at the god. Despite his short stature, he was, without a doubt, the most intimidating creature that Astarion had ever witnessed. There was an aura of intensity swirling about him, furious and radiant in its command, and Astarion’s body began to tremble in response.

Taliesin stepped closer, standing above Astarion with his arms crossed over his partially bare chest before he bent at the waist to get a better look at the demon, leaning in so that he could see every freckle on his divine face, the delicate ring on the left side of his nose, his thick eyelashes surrounding… oh gods, his eyes…

It’d been too dark during the attack so he hadn’t noticed those horrible, wonderful eyes.

It was as if they contained the winter itself — molten silver flecks fluctuated and sparkled within pupilless irises of shadow, deep fuschia tinted — no, aubergine… then indigo. The colors continuously shifted like fog within black onyx — mesmerizing and terrifying in equal measure.

Despite Astarion’s fear, he couldn’t help but find himself in awe of the divine beauty that Taliesin possessed as he tilted that lovely, timeless face, studying the demon with pinched features — as if he was observing something foul and small. Nothing more than vermin. Less than vermin.

"I could make you serve me for a decade or ten — centuries even! Or I could change you to a carrion crow, damned be your wings for I would pluck and cage you. Then you could never attempt to end me again," the god said, thumbing his chin and tilting his head to the side in a deviously playful way that sent a fresh shiver of trepidation down Astarion’s spine to the tip of his tail. Taliesin's face brightened as if he’d suddenly realized something wildly profound, and his large, frilled ears perked up, sending his many earrings jingling as he cocked an eyebrow. "But by all rights, I should kill you, send you to exist eternally in the Frozen Blight. Yes?"

Astarion’s thrumming heart skipped a beat as his stomach sank nauseatingly. That was it. That was the name of that damnable hell that he was bound for at any moment.

“Yes,” the demon whispered in reluctant agreement, ears lowering in defeat. As much as he hated to admit it, he should be killed for this transgression. There was no way of talking himself out of this one — he’d held the poisoned dagger to Talisin’s throat. An indignant, stray tear ran down his cheek as the god clicked his tongue.

"I suppose that I’ve decided a proper judgment for you, then," the lord finally announced, his tone barely above a whisper as he placed the back of his thumb under Astarion's chin, raising the demon's face to stare at him even closer — perhaps to get a good look at the person he was about to damn for eternity, or perhaps it was to relish in his abject horror and humiliation. The frost demon's lip quivered as those hauntingly beautiful eyes bored into his, and his mind shattered in terror as they instantaneously went entirely silver.

Gods and devils, this was it.

This truly was the end.

Astarion's gaze remained locked with Taliesin’s for moments or centuries — he could not be sure, and to his astonishment dilated pupils appeared as the irises imperceptibly changed to a muddy purple — soft and…. sweet? The god smiled, lopsided and sheepish as the iron shackles binding the demon grew uncomfortably frigid before they began to loosen in a flurry of mist.

Astarion was dumbfounded. Was this some sort of sick game? What in the godsdamned hells was happening?

"I must apologize in advance, demon — for this is going to hurt," the god of winter said in a genuinely apologetic tone, and Astarion's mouth fell agape as his shackles clattered deafeningly to the stone floor.

His eyes flashed an unsettling silver once more, and Astarion flinched as the god gently cupped his cheeks in his hands — hands that were far warmer than the demon had expected — and he was suddenly enveloped in the same gently swirling mist that had released his fetters moments earlier.

Taliesin bent in even closer to Astarion in a strikingly intimate way — almost as if he was going to kiss him — causing his heart to skip a beat as the compelling scent of cedarwood, rose and black pepper flooded his senses. His skin prickled as the god passed up his lips to whisper into his ear, his breath cold and mint and tantalizing...

“Witness me,” Taliesin whispered, and Astarion experienced sudden, blinding white light and harrowing pain encircling his throat.

Astarion’s stomach tightened into a ball as excruciating tendrils of agony crawled over the tender flesh of his neck, searing and stinging as his nerve ends were set sickeningly alight. He could not move to claw at the affliction nor could he scream in horror, for he could not catch his breath or gather his mind to do so. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his knees gave out, and his existence was naught but torment. He could not take it anymore — there was no way he could withstand this suffering, gods … there was simply no way!

Words in a language he did not know came from somewhere far, far away before he heard the common tongue spoken once more — ‘I’m truly sorry’, it said, as his vision ceased entirely, and then there was no sound at all. There was no sense of smell or any more pain, no enveloping cold or the warm hands of a god — there was only darkness.

[pretentious-art-love]

Album Reviews #47 - Disco Volante by Mr. Bungle

Mr. Bungle were always inspired by David Lynch’s style of combining dream-like surrealism with the uncomfortable and the nasty. They had included some samples from Blue Velvet in their self-titled record, and now, they have gone ahead to create a full album of Lynch-inspired oneiric reverie. Disco Volante's music evolves with its own logic; the songs shift from moments of intense and scary other-worldly emotion to completely dissipate into miscellaneous sound collages, and then evolve into more miniature samples of wrecked music.

As with any David Lynch film, the atmosphere in the album can be as thick as it is ordinary. While the music seems dissipated and random in most senses, it is only so in its structure. I have always said that Disco Volante shares many sound similarities with Jeux des Dames Cruelles, an album by the band's first album producer, John Zorn. However, while the music of Jeux des Dames lets itself spill like the paint of a splashed canvas, the music of Disco Volante turns into something at the same time less and more tangible—not the world of smeared paintings, but the world of dreams. There are so many miniatures of music composed in a wonderful tapestry of influences, ranging from Nuevo Tango and Psychedelic Pop to Klezmer, Raga Rock, and Acid Techno. All these miniatures of sounds can be as catchy as they are cinematic. While these moments can be memorable on their own, Disco Volante dissolves instantly into a cacophony of banal musique concrète sounds and field recordings or changes its train of thought to a completely different genre or composition without losing its character. For example, "Phlegmatics" starts with a Thrash Metal section, only to suddenly stop and slowly build up where both guitar and voice seem to be independent of the rest of the song in a beseeching lament while the drums are still on a chase. This way, "Phlegmatics" blends the sensation of yearning and anguish, which you can experience in nightmares or delusions caused by sickness. "The Bends" is composed mostly of an atmospheric piece exuding different ominous melodies per minute around a sci-fi flair. "Violenza Domestica" has momentary bursts of violence around cheap sentimentalism, slowly deteriorating into a creepily possessive song. This is something that many Bungle-inspired bands were unable to understand: Bungle’s eclecticism is more about genre-bending rather than song-swapping. The songs do not change one after the other in the same track, but they can explore wildly different sounds around the same idea while staying cohesive as a single, albeit broken, piece. Even when the jar is broken, it is assembled with the same parts it is composed of, rather than pieces from different jars, and that’s where its genius lies.

The emotions in the record can be as terrifying and revolting as they can be in Lynch’s movies (as, for example, in Blue Velvet itself, with its plot involving kidnappings, sexual slavery, and abuse), but there are brushstrokes of an added emotional palette in this record. It is Mike Patton’s whimsy and the band's knack for jest that give life unique of its own rather than one of a simply Lynch-inspired record. The buffoonery that embodies the record works to make it even more nefarious and depraved. With its banter, Disco Volante transforms what could be a world of pure horror and shock into a complete tapestry of depravity, making it one of the most horrifying albums you could ever hear. It is true that as it stands, this might as well become the less popular of the three mainline Mr. Bungle records, with its average dropping further every year and its overall track ratings barely managing to get a few bolded songs to date, which curiously enough seem to favor the tracks that maintain a proper rhythm instead of the more freeform ones. Still, though, I find it an absolutely incredible record, probably more so than the other two records, considering its attention to detail in creating a cohesive soundscape—a palpable, almost tangible experience in the freeform song, which is something all other Bungle bands have not either managed or focused to create. If you find it way too difficult to properly grasp, my advice would be to start with the tracks that are more freeform and climb your way up, leaving the tracks with more apparent rhythm at the end, to not let your brain get used to their momentum before it is wise. The record as a thematic piece is summarily cohesive, but if the order of its movements disconcerts you more than what it helps you, you can still take advantage that all these are different songs and that they are pieces you can independently digest as you see fit.

As it stands today, Disco Volante is one of those records that might be too difficult for most people, but its experience is undeniably unique and amusing. It's edgy, funny, hilarious, and incredibly vivid and striking. If you are interested in art that accurately represents the world of dreams, I absolutely recommend it to you, not just because of its oneiric quality, but also because it is completely evil and hysterical.

My version thing to do is putting all The Bends sections between each song, this connects the album with a thematically spooky ambience. Moving Nothing after After School Special and putting The Bends ending, Re-Entry, allows the album to end in a gust of noise and loop back to Everyone I Went To High School With Is Dead.

Everyone I Went To High School With Is Dead

Man Overboard

Chemical Marriage

The Drowning Flute

Carry Stress In The Jaw

The Secret Song

Aqua Swing

Desert Search For Techno Allah

Follow The Bubbles

Violenza Domestica

Duet For Guitar And Oxygen Tank

After School Special

Nothing

Phlegmatics

Nerve Damage

Ma Meeshka Mow Skwoz

Screaming Bends

Backstrokin’

Panic In Blue

Platypus

Love In The Event Horizon

Merry Go Bye Bye

Re-entry

8/10

[artinandwritin]

Since you asked for asks over the week, have one for today!

1. Whats your favorite piece of httyd media (Movies, comics, etc, but not the books.)

2. Which of the HTTYD Books is your favorite? (Have i asked this before?? Idk lol)

YIPPEEE TY OKAY SO

1. My absolute favourite part of HTTYD will always be the RoB/DoB era. It was the first httyd thing i ever watched (i was sick as a kid and while zapping around channels i came on RoB, I believe it were the Viking for Hire episode and the one right after?) and I think I partly became so obsessed with HTTYD after watching the movie bc i watched those RoB episodes. Believe me, I was watching HTTYD1 on vacation in Germany and was like. Squinting the entire time bc "???? Where tf do i know this from????" and then it clicked and i was sold.

But yeah, rob/dob is very close to my heart. Weve talked abt it before but it has a certain whimsy charm that fits right in line with the first movie. For me it's peak httyd. It will certainly always come above rtte to me lmao, i enjoy that show way less.

2. I always say the fourth book is really high up for me. I read the first 4 books as an 11 year old, but the other books weren't translated into dutch back in the year 2014 I think (the library didn't have them) so I only got to read the other books last year when I borrowed them from a friend of mine. But, the ending of book 4 has always gotten to me, with the Doomfang, and him watching over Hiccup, and it just makes me go eidjrjjdjdekrjdkejr sobbing. I read most of them on long commutes too (except the last one, i finished that in one sitting after my first EMDR therapy session. I remember almost nothing from that lmao) so there were many. Many times i just sat in either the bus or train staring ahead of me with blank eyes bc the story just hit too hard.

How to break a dragons heart is also really. Really good. Like they're all good, but everything with the witch and all the storytelling abt the past is so. So good. I just adore that entire series.

Also, the library one bc that one is just funny bc I work in a library and i feel very connected to the hairy scary librarian. Id want him as a co worker lmao.

[squeakyleftsneaker]

Watching Voltron for the 1st time: Ep 7-11

For the long long long explanation of how this came about, click here, if you don't want the actual details the kiddo I tutor told me I should watch this and I would like her to respect me because I fear her. Finished up season 1 today while doing some paperwork and chores, we're on it! I'll also include a little season wrap up of what I think so far at the end!

I Think It's Neat!

Shiro is a DORK aww

Should've touched on this earlier, I love the idea of a living planet. It's been in a couple of other things, and every time I eat it up. Cool, awesome concept, it usually works for me.

Keith can unlock the Galra stuff? Hmmm secret alien? I'd fuck with that heavy.

Shay is so cute, and it's SO COOL that the Balmerans have a neat symbiotic relationship with their planet creature.

The Balmera getting healed? Banger. Awesome. I love crystals. Hunk and I are on the same wavelength about rocks being fucking awesome

Hunk getting his moment is very sweet.

The whimsy of space goo is pretty unmatched I can't lie

Lance getting disappeared in a healing pod goes crazy

I like the castle going crazy with Shiro that's so real true and based

Man it's so fucking sick to poor Allura that this is happening to her. I really just feel awful that she's lost everything and has to lose her father's memory program thing too.

Keith has one of those little scrolling LED signs in his mind that's just going "Where Shiro" on repeat 24/7

SPEAKING of Shiro he needs to have a heart to heart w someone. Desperately

Allura man :( She really deserves the world oh my god. It's HEARTBREAKING.

Shiro has 0 fucks left to give and I love that for him

ALSO PAUSE THE GALRA ARE SO TALL WOW I'M GAY

Who helped Shiro escape? Presumably he didn't do all that himself, did he? Was he planted or something??? Like is he compromised in some way? It feels like he shouldn't have been able to escape all by himself and the hand is definitely beyond his technical ability to understand so. Ooo that'd be a tasty plot point.

Keith is a little deranged too I like that for him if he doesn't turn out to be a secret alien I'm going to be SO disappointed.

What does Vrepit Sa mean I honestly want to know

KEITH IS DEFINITELY SECRETLY AN ALIEN AND HE'S GOING TO GET A MAGICAL GIRL TRANSFORMATION INTO AN ALIEN LET'S GOOOOO

Poor Shiro losing everyone who ever helps him. That's why he has A Keith around. (I hope this isn't foreshadowing!)

"Shiro's in trouble, I'm going in" WE KNOW KEITH. The most one track mind to ever one track

The witch outfit is so baller I want it. Or like her little acolytes. I need the fit.

SHIRO EVIL CLONE? SHIRO???? BALLER

Also wow Zarkon being the original black paladin is a nice detail. I like that. Keith being all victory or death about killing him is great too. Shiro and Keith definitely got the bulk of the planning on through line and character.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO :D :D :D WHO IS THIS MYSTERY REBEL IN THE GALRA

I like this less

I feel like they don't quite have Keith figured out. Keith went full scorched earth to find Shiro. He shouldn't be the one (with both the Allura case and with Pidge earlier on) to be trying to hold people back. Of all of them lmao. Esp bc they don't treat him narratively like he's being a hypocrite, and that's never emphasized narratively. Imo they could either get him on hypocrisy textually or not have him being that guy! Because he's just, NOT! It's over and over again that we see him be "fuck it we ball I need to grab my emotional support Shiro" and so having him be against that for other people just. Doesn't make sense unless they want him to address that hypocrisy. Which. They don't seem to yet.

I think though they have a lot of ideas with Keith and Shiro, which I totally get bc they're awesome characters, I could use a little more oomph being given to Hunk and Lance. Pidge I think they have down SOLID, besides botching the "She's a girl" reveal, but Hunk and Lance both feel a little fuzzily defined to me.

I totally get that this is a result of having a big ensemble cast, but a big ensemble cast doesn't mean that your characters can't be super distinct and focused! Obviously Avatar the Last Airbender is an easy example pull for this, but another obvious one for me is Star Wars the Clone Wars. In having a ton of characters, it can be easy to lose sight of making them distinct in service of a plot, and I feel like that happens a lot to Lance and Hunk. I think either having Pidge/Hunk/Lance/Allura/Coran fade into the background and refocusing on the two most robust charcters OR bringing those 5 more into the foreground and giving them really robust motivations and arcs would work!

A lot of the humor falls flat for me. I'm not the target audience for it obviously, but, idk, it just doesn't do it for me.

I feel like the pacing is a little rough, as is the overall direction. Multi-episode arcs are cool, but I think for being the first season the show would've benefitted a lot from episodic adventures and splitting off the characters into small groups like they did to find the lions more! It's season 1! And then save the multi-episode arc for the season finale and have that be the big shift in tone where the Zarkon threat Gets Real. It brings the stakes up!

Are we really going to have to watch the same sequence every time they form Voltron?

All in all I think there's some things I'd do very differently, some things I really like. This was a promising start. I love cheesy space shows. I think this show would really have benefitted from giving us a little more to work with from a character standpoint. The fight scenes are awesome, don't get me wrong, but because we don't spend as much individual time with each paladin they can feel a little flattened. Again, I think keeping the storylines in season one to be pretty contained within an episode would've been a better move than having multiple multi-episode, plot heavy ones.

Additionally I think... a lot of exposition is given and it would be AWESOME to have less time spent on that and more on just immersion! We don't NEED to know everything about every world or new piece of tech! This show tells us a lot, I'd like for it to show us a whole lot more. You can do more! They could like, explain many many details about the Balmera and how it works OR they could have the paladins come to that realization themselves through interacting with it. One of those is much more memorable!

But all of that said, I'm still excited to see where they go with it! I might start season 2 later tonight, I need a little break from screens (almost 2 hours of show is a lot for me) and I am definitely curious about where they'll all end up on the other end of the wormhole.

[prettythey]

I added some stickers to my walker🥰 It feels very whimsy, and the purple makes me feel close to my mom since it was her favorite color. My mom had lupus and cancer 3 times and several other conditions. She had a walker for some time after her spinal surgeries, and it makes me feel good having a mobility aid in her favorite color and covered in cute stickers. It makes my mobility aids more me and more personalized and less medical, and I like to think my mom would like my walker and my cane🥺

I never thought I'd be sick like her and I didn't get sick until after her death and I wish I could talk to her about everything and I wish I could relate to her and be so much more empathetic than I was as a little kid. This walker is just a little connection to my mom💛

[brofightiscancelled]

yapping about how i approached translating karamatsu's brand new world. just discussing the localization liberties i took and other things i think are interesting. i just love yapping sorry

part 3/4 because i forgot about tumblr post image limits lol

CHAPTER 8

as you probably know if you watch anime, in japanese they say いっただきまーす before they eat a meal. english has no colloquial equivalent so they usually just translate it as "thanks for the meal!" because something like "down the hatch!" comes off as quite goofy and old-fashioned. luckily, THESE characters ARE goofy and old-fashioned, so i get to use it.

if it were solely up to me i think "cuz I'm the oldest" would've been a more natural english-speaking sibling thing to say here. but source material LOVES saying eldest so i left it as that

todomatsu says "you're kicking up dust" here. this is where cultural knowledge in translation is important.... i just kind of assumed that this is colloquially used the same way as "making a mess", but im not actually sure, this was just a guess. so i wish i had that cultural knowledge lol

admitting my weakness: i have no idea what bro was talking about here. i made my best guess based off what nonsense i could glean from this as well as the chinese fantranslation. sorry

admitting my whimsy: i had no reason to localize todomatsu into talking annoyingly here i just kinda wanted to. sorry

CHAPTER 9

the dialogue here is more literally "The one who showed me that was--". this doesn't sound that unnatural, and i probably could've stuck with it (if it was song lyrics i definitely wouldve gone with that lol), but i thought "something I learned from--" felt a bit more natural of a sentence to be cut off (i feel like an english speaker would say "ichimatsu was the one who showed me that", y'know?)

in the first panel, ichi says "let's go/return home". but it doesnt fit in this itty bitty speech bubble, and also is not quiiite as colloquial in english? (in this kind of casual context i think it would be more like "let's head out" yknow :?), so i just did "let's go". but then later he literally does say "let's go", which i can't use again, so i shifted this to "c'mon!" even though it's slightly less faithful of a translation for that phrase... but it's for da sake of the overall meaning. welcome to da translator's dilemma

personal pronoun moment! though the karamatsu we know and love uses オレ, a confident and bold personal pronoun, high school karamatsu uses 僕, a polite and reserved pronoun. again no english equivalent so this kind of subtlety in characterization is just kinda lost foreveerrrrr and needs to be made up in other ways

(as a side note ichi uses the same おれ pronoun in hs as in the current day, though. it fits his casual, laid-back high school personality and also his current low-energy, slacker personality. da versatility. very interesting)

a little look into my sick and twisted mind process

"remaining empty / will you be this way forever?"

remaining is too long to fit in this speech bubble, so im shortening it to "staying empty"

"will you be this way forever" doesn't sound very natural to me. "do you plan on" feels more direct and accusatory (as asserted by ichi's use of よ here) so let's use that

"do you plan on staying that way forever?" is a very nice sentence! but i already used "staying" in the first speech bubble. curses

the last thing ichi asked was "why are you still alive", and is about to say "just die", so i think bringing back "living" here wouldn't be too off-base, right? it's a similar meaning.... even though it wasnt insinuated in the text.....

it's fine no one will know

this translation is from the source material. but a bit of potential double meaning here that maybe was lost: 逆に means like, "on the contrary" or "conversely", so can mean something closer to, "(if you just plan on staying empty), you might as well just die instead!" which i think is a slightly different vibe than "actually" and is also neeeat

okay one more part to come just for chapter 10 i guess

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

[granolawriting]

A proper fall◞♡

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: A slow night ignites when Joel brings a suprise of pumpkins spotted on his way home from work to your doorstep. what starts as a nice activity with you and him lit by the illumination of the TV and of small tea candles, delves into something a bit more about you, and less about pumpkins.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap (25yrs), he has grey hair so hes about that old, he also has long hair because I say so, breif praise kink, strong Joel picks you up, pet names (darling, sweetheart), crazy tension, the reader is a bit of a stalker, Joel teaches you how to cut a pumpkin (visual learner ;))

word count: 2.8k

general masterlist . kink*tober masterlist

A/N: welcome to the first day of kink*tober! Hope this is a good way to start it off, and enjoy ;)

Night falls upon an evening of autumn that crept up upon you as though there was no summer in between them. As the beginning of October rears its head, and you watch the symptoms of the cold brush against the warm tones of trees once vibrant and green, their remnants finding final resting place within the sidewalks at which you walk and the streets you drive. Fall reminded you of times since past, of family and festivities, childlike whimsy watching as though the monsters on TV were specially curated for your greatest fright. There's something nostalgic about this time of year, however with old love comes a desire to thrust it into the new by sharing it with those you love and care for. A yearning you've held as you’ve grown older as most definitely as you lived alone. 

The familiar tune of Joel's tires drives up onto the gravel to the house adjacent from yours. Joel, your neighbor, your sometimes liquor handler, and the incessant object of your unrequited affection. He was an older man in contrast to you, aged about 25 years your senior he was a reliable man for about anything an old man could provide. From home repairs to car leaks he's about the only person in this freshly moved into town that feels as though he is genuine with you. And as you hear the parking of tires scratch against the small stones, it cues to you a glimpse at him was within your reach. Every moment you could you were compelled to steal glances at him, with a window facing the front end of his home you were able to gaze upon him twice a day if you were lucky. Once when he went to work and once when he went home. Though some nights you find him sat on a chair outside on his property, a face illuminated by a light attached to his porch a sweet sound of hums and plucking of strings filled your senses as a dimly lit guitar played a melody unfamiliar to you by origin but soaked in with every ounce of love by the way he rendered it with his own hands. 

Your eyes trace his movements as he hops out of his truck, a routine motion of heavy steps does he do something uncharacteristic-- reaching to the back of his truck. Usually there was nothing left of the cargo stored in his truck for work by day's end, and anything he bought often was small enough to fit in his passenger. By a sick twist of stalking tendencies you found yourself undeniably intrigued in this minute break in routine. But as he reveals what is shadowed by the walls of the truck's rear it has you make a double take. Pumpkins? 

Two pumpkins, one thrusted under each crook of his arm to carry with the strength of his bicep and the careful placement of fingers to keep it in place. And as he walks that gravel road you see him not turn around to meet his own front door, but as his boots hit the sidewalk it dawns on you that he is going to your own door. 

You panic, going into a very forced casual relaxation as you await his knock, only mere seconds to play the act of surprise as though you had not watched him from the moment his car arrived in his lot. 

Knock knock. 

Fuck. fuck uh, shit uh fuck well how long does it take for someone to casually get up to get the door how many steps uh 

You sprint to your couch and start tracing steps to the door with perfectly calculated casualty to them, no anticipation to be perceived in the gracefulness of tense legs and unnatural motion wading one step closer to the door. 

Knock knock knock 

Oh shit. That was with his boot maybe? Fuck I took too long what if they drop and break and 

Abandoning all previous methods of casualty you find yourself lunging for the door. 

“Took ya’ long enough.” 

God. His smile was teasing, a little cock in his hip to hold up a slipping pumpkin that gave him an air of tease that when complimented by a southern drawl and a long days of work, made your knees grow weak at the sight of him. 

“Ya’ just gonna stand there or can I put these things somewhere ‘fore they break on us?” 

You snap out of your gaze to usher him in; 

“Oh, oh of course I'm so sorry you can put them on the kitchen counter.” 

And as he passes you, the musk of coffee, tobacco, and sawdust wafts past you in a scent coated by recently applied cologne that makes your eyes follow him as his back faces you and he travels deeper within your home. You swiftly close the door behind him and follow, watching the way he walked, the sway of his body ever so slightly, the sound of his boots against your wooden floors, the broadness of his back accentuated by the posture he found himself in. he was so much larger than you he almost dwarfed you in comparison. And as you remember the way he looked moments before, with rolled up sleeves that showed flexed forearms before you, you thought that he was absolutely perfect. 

“What are these even doing here Joel?” 

You ask in a playful tone as you trail behind him, hoping that whatever he had in mind involved him staying there. 

He stands with a hip cocked on the side of your counter as the two pumpkins sit there, arms crossed watching as you speak. The dim light of the lower setting of your home lighting casts a soft shadow on his tanned face, to complement the fall of gray and black hair right above his eyes. 

“Well, saw em’ for sale on my way home ‘n thought you’d like one. It's that, buy one get one, thought you’d wanna cut em’ up fer your fancy little decorations.” 

By “fancy little decorations” he means a welcome mat from michaels, that adorned a little skull over the ‘O’. 

Joel begins to make his way towards the door he’d just come out of, passing you makes your heart sink. 

“Well, I best be gettin’ out of ya hair, hope you like em’.” 

But as his kind smile meets your eyes and a slightly frowned mouth, impulse overtakes you to grab onto a bicep clothed in dark plaid that makes him stop in his tracks. 

“No, uh. How about you help me out? We can cut one up each. If, you don't have anything going on. It's fine if you do. I was just watching a movie.” 

It comes flowing out of you without thinking, but you couldn't let yourself forsake this kind of opportunity just by staying quiet. 

He turns his head to look at you, eyes lingering on the hand holding his arm for a moment. 

“Oh- I'm sorry.” 

You lower your hand. 

His eyes shift to your own, and a shock of electricity runs through you that stuns you-- as his eyes meet yours there's something different about them. His eyelids hood his dark brown eyes with a bit more intensity than you’re used to, a smile creeps on his lips that has the playfulness you are used to, but with a tinge of something inexplicable within the formation of it. He turns to face you, shadowing you as his broad frame overpowers yours, he looks down upon you as he speaks. 

“No worries darlin’, and I ain’t got nothing to do anyways, I don't mind helpin’ out with some carving. Cant promise i'm any good at it though, aint done it since my girl was young.” 

A spark of joy lights up your face, creating a stretch of lips into a smile that reaches cheek to cheek in positive response to your leap of faith. Eyes darting around to combat his unwavering gaze upon you that if any more attention were to be paid to his gesture you would be unable to have enough self control to pull yourself away from his trance.

 He is so effortlessly enchanting.

“Oh! Oh that's okay. I don't quite know how to do it either. I’ll get us some knives, and some markers for the outline of the face. Just- give me a second.” 

Scrambling around to the drawer of your kitchen that houses all miscellaneous amenities from lighters to thumbtacks, you fish around for a black sharpie and some leftover tealights from an old project you did for decor. You feel Joel's eyes follow your movement as he situated himself on the chair just opposite of the counter to you where there was a small slab of marble sticking out for any who wish to use that as means for dining instead of a proper table. And for you in this moment it meant close proximity with a certain Joel Miller who was a picturesque of your very dream, who you’d found a friend within. your back turns to him to find the silverware that bear sharp enough blade to cut through ripe pumpkin, you know his eyes have yet to leave you. 

The only noise to fill the room within brief moments of shuffling and the clanging of metal against metal is the low hum of your speakers that plays a rerun of old halloween movies along its channel. It's something you allowed to run within your house whether you were watching it or not, it just provides a means for a more seasonal white noise to your everyday. 

“Okay, i’ve got everything!” 

You turn to him with cheery demeanor as your findings are sprawled out neatly upon the counter for his proper check. And with a kind thumbs up and a smile he lifts himself up from the chair to meet your right as he readied his own pumpkin for its demise. 

Sharply does his knife sink its way into the pumpkins top, sawing at its close stem with furrowed brow and concentrated intent with every flex of his hands on the blade's handle. You watch him for a moment as his hair falls in front of his face ever so slightly, burning urge wells up inside of you to bring it out of his face, but you fear to test your luck. Instead you resort to cutting open your own, but with much less elegance as he does. The jagged cuts of the blade against raw vegetable leave its circle around the top growing to be a much more unrecognizable shape, as the cuts of your blade are often redirected every half of the slice. As Joel finishes up his own work, he checks on your progress to find disarray. 

“Oh darlin’ now, now let me help you. What the hell are ya even doing?” 

Curious tone coats a laugh that escapes him as he moves himself closer to you, smoothly moving himself behind you to cup your body with his own, his hand finds yours as the fingers gripping the blade weaken at the feeling of calloused fingertips grazing over the notches of your fingers. You feel his warmth behind you, he's left only a sliver of room between his body and your own, though the intensity felt between yours and his bodies felt as though there was nothing between them at all. And the part of his body that did touch you felt like every nerve you had in your body was directed to that place. The cocked elbow of your right hand is completely engulfed by the muscled emulation of the man behind you. Feeling his bicep strain to fall in the same position you did, as means to merely grip onto your hand. You turn your face to the right of you to look at him once more, only to be greeted with his own to be mere inches away from your own as he leaned over your shoulder. His eyes catch yours, you watch as they flicker up and down your face with a semblance of shock that was a foreign look upon his stern and confident usual demeanor. 

A moment passes as you two take each other in, a moment too long. But soon after he lets out a breathy laugh, the feeling of his breath coated your face, lingering on your lips as he awkwardly smiled. He turns his face back to the pumpkin you had been meaning to cut.

“Now, you’re not properly doin it with the right motion. You’ve gotta dig deep, ya see?” 

He guides your hand out of the jagged lines of the interior, and moves your blade to an untouched part of its top. You feel the grip of his hand engulf yours, and he steadies his forearm on your own to push down the first cut within it. And slowly with a heavy-gripped explanation, he shows you slice for slice how to properly do it. 

“I’ll let ya try the last cut. See if ya learned anythin’ or if i’d just done it for ya.” 

His body lets up from yours with a moment's hesitation, a feeling of coldness wafts over exposed skin that sinks deep within your core-- your body yearned for his even greater now that it had just a taste of what it felt like to be near him. To be overwhelmed with his scent, to hear the low hum of his voice directly within your ear. 

You cut the final piece with decent enough elegance for celebration. Throwing hands up in the air after dropping the knife you find a melodramatic expression of victory only fitting to cut the air of tension that surrounded you two. But as your bout of over exaggerated victory overtook your senses, you latch arms around his high shoulders in expression of said joy. But as the light above you illuminates his face, he seems taken aback. His eyes look needy, lit up by the white light of your kitchen's main light source. You kept hands wrapped around his neck for a moment longer as you took in the look upon his face. It looked longingly, lips slightly parted and pink, your eyes both meet and you feel your world go silent. 

“Ah, my bad i'm getting ahead of myself-”

You lower yourself off his neck but you feel rough hands keep you in by the waist. your top having ridden up your stomach to reach his neck you felt as his fingers gripped onto bare skin once cold now feeling like a thousand suns piercing every nerve in your body. You felt weak at the knees. 

“No worries sweetheart.” 

His voice grew darker. And he looks at you with a smile laced with something you’ve never seen on him before, pure desire. 

“Mind if i'm real with ya for a moment?” 

He waits for a response, and a nod from you suffices. 

“Now, I won’t let ya play dumb anymore. You don't think I see ya watchin me? Feel your eyes on me when I'm comin’ home? Even when I'm here fixin things for ya, you can't take yer eyes off me darlin’. And I've got to say I'm flattered, ain't every day a pretty girl like you takes interest in a old man like me. But i've got to say i'm bout’ tired pretending, what do you say mm?” 

The taunting hum at the end of his words vibrates against you as though a simple gust of wind against your face could set your whole body aflame. You’re at a loss for words, feeling your body engulfed in heat as it sets in what he’s just said. The feeling of the words vibrates throughout your whole body, feeling yourself soak at even the implication of his lips upon yours. You look at his eyes hooded by desire, feeling his thumb trace your lower back barely above the waistband of your shorts as he begins to toy with you ever so slightly. 

“I need a yes or no darlin’.” 

“Y..yes. Please Joel” 

“Good girl.” 

His lips slam against yours at the simplest of begging, the need for you superseding any sort of joy he got from watching you beg for him. He craved you, for much longer than you could have ever accounted for. You could tell by the touch of your lips, the desperation of its tongue as it tasted every bit of your mouth as though it had been starved. A hand traces your body in such intent it's as if he had already mapped out every crevasse and indentation of your body and only now is able to touch what it's yearned for for so long. Tangled fingers push his hair back from his face as you switch between holding his jaw and gripping at his hair, his own fingers snaking their way down to your thighs, lifting you up onto the empty counter space within your kitchen and your hands fell to the back of cold marble that contrasted with your heated skin. And as Joel continued to worship your body with his lips, you could still hear the muted screams of a horror film playing as your own began to meld with it.

[goldenlittleroyal]

Huzzah, Sanders Sides agere!

I see both Patton and Roman as flips, and ship them heavily, so here's a drabble of headcanons! 🌟

cg!Patton and small!Roman

[art

roman is a flip, and regresses to either 2-4 or 7-9 depending on the day!

lots and lots of outdoor play and adventures! but also a lot of quiet time indoors in patton's room whenever roman is upset.

patton provides roman with limitless amounts of crayons, chalk, paint, and anything his heart desires to create with. roman is EXTRA creative when he's tiny, tapping into that childlike whimsy again.

roman goes up to patton wanting fairy-tales be read to him, as the prince he demands it! (even though patton would read them to him no matter what.) roman's favorite is the storybook version of disney's beauty and the beast.

roman loves to watch every disney animated movie in huge marathons, and patton makes them popcorn and snacks for sometimes weekend-long regression and film binging sessions.

roman and patton both wear their onsies when they spend time regressing!

roman can sometimes get angry or really sad, and he throws big loud tantrums that tire him out really badly. patton waits them out patiently, then swoops him up to take to bed for snuggles and comforting words. other caregivers might call that behavior bratty, but patton understands it too well to ever be mad at roman, especially when he's small.

patton loves to play toys with roman, whether it's plushies or paper dolls or action figures, he really enjoys indulging roman's storytelling drive!

cg!Roman and small!Patton

[art]

patton is a flip, and both an age regressor and a pet regressor! he regresses to around 6-8, and he's a frog regressor.

pat is a hyper, and i mean HYPER kiddo, and it's even worse when he's in froggie mode.

roman loves to set up 'dates of fun' where he plans a whole list of activities to keep patton busy the whole day. he includes arts and crafts enough to fill up hours at a time, movies, books to be read to him, and much more. patton's energy is always wiped out by the end!

patton loves the winnie the pooh books when he's small, they're immensely comforting to him.

patton is VERY cuddly and affectionate during regression, and roman is definitely not complaining about the extra love!

patton mostly wears even comfier clothes than usual, like big sweaters over shorts or his onesie! roman does like to draw him into games of dress-up in the imagination, though, dressing patton in very nice princely clothing for them to play games in.

patton can occasionally involuntarily regress as well, and those are much less happy times. he gets very, very sad and gloomy, tending to stay in bed the whole day curled around his blankets with his pacifier.

roman tries to give him space when he needs it, but the moment patton asks for comfort, roman jumps to action to brighten his day in any way he can manage. patton may be very nostalgic, but how much he loves and is loved by roman helps keep him grounded during the bad times.

roman will take patton to the imagination and imagine up a biiiig pond or pool for him to play in in his smaller lilypadton form! lots of things to hop on and dive through.

lilypadton will try to hit roman in the face with his tongue, 100% of the time, roman better keep his reflexes good.

roman gives in to little patton's puppy eyes so easily that he regularly accidentally lets him eat himself sick on sweets and baked goods. "mom i phrew up" moments directed at logan galore between the two of them.