#there's just a bizarre vibe going on and I'm here for it

[secondbeatsongs]

saw that there was fanfic for Taskmaster, and I'd never seen the show so I was like "oh, that's interesting, I wonder why there's so much fic for it?"

but now, having watched three seasons of it? I get it. jfc. I fucking get it.

that dynamic sure is something, huh?

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

watching fandaniel go is wild because he is just [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] and yeah man that's a mood

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Chapter One (of four)

Masterpost

Danny hit the brakes hard and veered into a bicycle lane with a very Fenton sort of style and disregard for physics. He dodged the gunman in the carpool lane. He stuck his tongue out as he passed and then steered back into the right lane once he’d cleared the pedestrian. 

It turned out that Gotham rewarded the sort of drivers forged in the crucible of the Fenton tactical GAV, which was great. Jazz had gotten a job as a barista for her third year at Gotham U, so he had inherited the car that she had used as a delivery driver. She’d even somehow managed to pay the taxes on it despite the restraining orders that most government offices had on the Fenton family.

Jazz had been a pizza girl, but Danny wasn’t willing to work the late nights. He worked for three different rideshare companies. It was.. Well. It was a terrible way to make a living, if he was honest. It was wretched. But it worked! Until the car crapped out on him, this was a viable option to feed himself while he was enrolled full time at the university. He was available to drive early in the mornings and for a few peak hours on the weekends.

Danny brought an order of 17 coffees to a warehouse with serious ‘murders will happen here today’ vibes and whistled as he left. People in murder warehouses actually tipped pretty well. Worker solidarity or something. He left the early birds to enjoy their 3 am drinks and then idly checked the app to see if there was anyone else waiting for a ride or delivery. 

“Victor,” he read, and took a glance at the address. It was close! He snagged the request and turned on some bubblegum pop to enhance the ride over. 

He saw a man standing outside, haunting a storefront with metal shutters pulled down. Must be the guy! Danny pulled over, checked the app, and then furrowed his eyebrows. Huh. Seemed wrong. He fixed his face before he looked back over. 

In the app, Victor didn’t look especially young or fit. In person, he was easily over 6 feet tall and lugged a huge bulky bag like it weighed nothing. 

He also had a giant ugly motorcycle helmet with the vague impression of a caveman brow ridge built into it. Danny hid his judgmental thoughts and rolled down the window to chirp, “Hi! Victor?”

“That’s me.” Victor sounded like he was auditioning for the Deft Punks, electronics grinding out his voice to a silly robot autotune. Danny hid the way his lips wanted to tremble. You can’t laugh at clients. “Can I put this in the trunk?”

Danny hated that. “Go for it.” He opened the trunk with the button and hid his real thoughts. He didn’t like people using the trunk. Why not just put it in the backseat like a normal person? There was enough room for a person and a bag there.

‘Is there enough room for this guy, actually?’ Danny wondered, looking Victor up and down subtly. Were his shoulders padded or was he actually built like that? Bizarre. 

He had the sense that Victor was tense.

‘Ah., fuck. He caught me checking out his shoulders.’

Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Victor took him up on the front seat option and readjusted the passenger seat back with a casual ease. 

Danny waited a moment.

Victor cocked his head at him.

“Seatbelt,” Danny prompted.

There was a long moment. Victor silently buckled his seatbelt. 

“Awesome.” Danny put on his turn signals and pulled out. He went slower than he preferred. He’d learned the hard way that most passengers didn’t like his driving. It was great for cutting time off when he was delivering food, but no good for nervous cargo like poor Victor here. The poor guy was so anxious that he kept his emotional support helmet on when a passenger in a car. 

Danny thoughtfully drove the speed limit and let Victor change music.

They didn’t have much to talk about. Danny didn’t mind much either way. He liked quiet rides and he liked chatting alright.

“Stop the car two blocks early,” Victor said. He pointed. “There’s fine.”

Obligingly Danny guided the car to a stop and shifted to park. He jumped out of the car. “I’ll grab your bag!” He called over his shoulder. He popped open the trunk and lifted Victor’s bag with a winning smile that said ‘I deserve a good tip.’

Victor had moved to the back of the car faster than Danny expected. He paused. He looked weirdly stiff. “Thanks.” He took the bag. “...Here’s your tip.”

“Have a wonderful day!” Danny said, pretending not to be interested in how much money it was. He waved Victor goodbye and pulled out. As soon as he was a block away he counted the bills. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed. Victor tipped like a crime boss. He stuffed them into his wallet and made a mental note of the account. He’d definitely try to accept requests from him in future.

He gave two more rides before he could go back to his shitty apartment and get ready for classes. Danny parked in the little underground garage near his place where he paid a monthly fee and jogged to his place. He got his bag and left on foot.

He had a pretty normal day. The only hiccup was that it was kind of hard to focus on his lectures when he could faintly hear what had to be every TV on campus playing the same news bulletin. Danny did his best to block it out, grimacing. Having advanced senses really sucked sometimes. If he heard the breaking news jingle one more time, he might cry. 

By the time he was free he felt pushed to his limit. He went back to his place and turned off all his electronics for some peace of mind. 

The next morning felt better. He turned on the tab that said he was available for work at 3 am and ended up bringing a huge delivery of breakfast materials to the same police station that he’d left Victor at yesterday. Danny hummed as he jogged up the concrete steps with three bulging bags of baked goods and coffee grounds. He handed them to a weary-eyed receptionist and accepted his tip without looking at it. He considered cracking a joke about them being busy and decided it was better not to.

He was still an illegal entity, after all. His parents were covering for him, but scrutiny was not his friend. He didn’t want any interaction with the police or the rogue band of detective freakazoids that ran this crime town.

Back in the car, he checked his tip. Danny clicked his tongue and made a disgusted sound. He hated cops. Cheap! There was nothing worse than being cheap.

His next customer tried to rob him at gunpoint as soon as he got in the car. Danny wrestled the gun away from him and ate it while the guy watched. “Just try and report me to the app,” Danny sneered between crunches of metal. It tasted like shit and the guy probably hadn’t washed his hands, so like, yuck. But it was a choice he was making for the intimidation factor, not because it was yummy.

‘Bet my iron intake is good now.’ Danny held out his hand. “My tip,” he said, and did not unlock the car door until the shaking wannabe carjacker had given him three dollars American money. Hell yeah. “Have a good morning.”

He went into the app and canceled the ride. There was another request waiting, so he drove to it. It wasn’t the name that the app’s request had shown, but- “Good morning, Victor!” Danny waved. “Call from a friend’s app this time?”

Victor stared at him dumbly. At least, that was Danny’s best guess of what was going on inside the helmet. “Yes.” He eventually said.

Cool, cool. Very weird. But he was an ok guy and he tipped well. “Hop in,” Danny said, and unlocked the car.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

if I remember right, a year or two ago you made a list of recommendations for the Edinburgh Fringe. Any recommendations for this year? Already got Steffan on the list, obviously

I did! Okay, okay, here's what I've got this year. Caveat: I personally have not been up there yet (I'm going in a few days), but these are things I saw in preview/have heard great things about.

Steffan Alun: Free Standup, but at What Cost

Venue 156: PBH's Free Fringe @ Banshee Labyrinth - Banquet Hall, 21.30-22.30

Back again! Eighth Fringe, this. The show is an hour, but that includes a 15 minute warm-up act, then Steff for 45 mins. He does this so that reviewers won't come and ruin the vibe.

Anyway this year he talks a bit about being Welsh and how he is therefore grumpy with Bristolian Tesco self-checkout machines

.

Jake Baker: Rule Breaker!

Venue 78: PBH's Free Fringe @ Canons' Gait - Lower, 16.30-17.30

I love Jake, he's lovely. He's a gentle soul and has an excellent delivery style; very warm and deceptively witty. Normally he goes with Just The Tonic and is given a searing hot basement in the sky that smells of mould for a room, but this year he's in Canons' Gait, which is much much nicer.

His blurb: A rule-breaker, a risk taker, a wave-maker and a convention-shaker – all phrases never before used to describe Jake Baker. But when a frustrating game of Alan Turing-themed Monopoly leaves him questioning the laws of the game, he finds himself turning that analytical impulse to bigger things.

.

Stephanie Laing: Rudder

Venue 300: Underbelly, George Square - The Wee Coo, 14.50-15.50

This show is particularly Tumblr-friendly, actually; it's described as 'neurodiversity-led'. However, it's a show with a content warning, although all the ticket page is saying is "themes" (insert Stephen Fry meme here); so, <SPOILER> she talks about withdrawing consent while sleeping with a FIB, and him continuing anyway. She talks about it in a very gentle way, avoiding Big Words, and it's very heavy on aftercare </SPOILER>

Her blurb: A comedy dance show about balance. Stephanie has a history of falling over a lot, accidentally kneeing herself in the face, and falling in love with total kn*bheads. In this show she uses a mixture of stand-up and dance to talk about bodies, sex, dancing, liking yourself, consent and healing. Also, there are cartoon bears and burlesque.

.

Erin McKinnie: The Faff Chronicles

Venue 108: Hoots @ The Apex - Hoot 4, 16.50-17.50

An Edinburgh local! Good solid standup for those who like such things. New-ish, but one to watch, she's very good. Don't be surprised to see her take off

Her blurb: What a faff! Erin McKinnie, a rising star on the Scottish comedy circuit, talks about faffing through early adulthood – from rogue adventures to living the "below-deck life" on cruise ships – she finds the funny in every bizarre encounter in this uplifting show that asks: Do we really need a life plan? Or... are we all just winging it? A brilliant, snort-worthy giggle-fest about exiting your 20s, facing life indecision and chasing answers for those big questions, all the while trying to convince your mother that this is a real job...

.

Alexander Bennett: Emotional Daredevil

Venue 24: Gilded Balloon Patter House - Coorie, 18.20-19.20

Dark feelings show with a really positive, optimistic message and a fun concept. It uses audience participation, but that's not compulsory, you're safe.

Blurb: I'm the emotional daredevil, and for my next feat, I need someone's help. A show about risk, for the unsatisfied and traumatised, from a Chortle Award nominee

.

Alex Franklin: Gurl Code

Venue 61: Underbelly, Cowgate - Delhi Belly, 20.25-21.25

Alex does a fun thing each year where she takes her publicity budget and rather than spending it on publicity, she hides it somewhere in Edinburgh and then reveals a clue to its location every day. This tells you something about her, I think

Her blurb: In 2024, trans girl Alex (me) started HRT. Now she (me) feels the most alive she's (me's) ever felt; and she wants to make you feel alive too, or die trying. A ludicrous, musical, chaotic, joyful show about the colours of the world becoming slowly brighter and giving people furniture via the tube. Also being trans.

.

Character Building Experience

Venue 49: Bedlam Theatre - Bedlam Theatre, 20.00-21.00

It's a D&D show - the MC Sasha Ellen makes a bunch of 40-minute simple campaigns and a selection of pre-rolled characters to do them, and then gets three comedians each time to play them. You know the drill. Good quality fun, and different each time, since you'll never see the same campaign/comedian mix.

.

2 Truths, 1 Lie

Multiple venues and times (search the EdFringe app or website to see them all), but I recommend catching the 3pm show on either the 25th or 26th August at Venue 108: Hoots @ The Apex - Hoot 1 for reasons I shall not share here (ooh, mysterious)

Fun panel-like show! Often MC'd by Steff, especially if you catch one of the 3pm shows. The format is:

Three comedians each declare a statement. Two are true, but one comedian is lying. The MC doesn't know the liar, nor does the audience. The audience gets to ask questions of the comedians; at the end, they vote on who they think the liar is.

(The prize for winning is a smug sense of satisfaction.)

.

Anyway, once I'm up there I will possibly have more, but currently, that's my list

[ashprompts]

𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from dropout tv's game changer. feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

“I’ve been here THE WHOLE TIME”

“It’s hard to hold this much anger in my body.” 

“If you never hear from me again, you know what to do!.”

“If they don’t find me it’s because I was chopped up and fed to the pigs!”

“I SOLVED YOUR LABYRINTH, PUZZLEMASTER. THE MINOTAUR’S ESCAPED, AND YOU’RE GONNA GET THE HORNS, BUDDY”

“I. CANNOT. WIN!!!!”

“A lot of people have been saying that ___ is a singularly evil, wildly incompetent, befuddled nepo baby silver spoon motherfucker. This is what people are saying.” 

“If you can do ONE swing on the swing I will let you play with all the math puzzles that you want” 

“You’re not getting a FUCKING JOKE OUT OF ME until you let me out of this room! You want bits?! You let me out of this room for bits, motherfucker!”

“Are we gonna die before we get outta here?” 

“I’m gonna lose so fucking hard it’s gonna blow your fucking mind”

“But in this sick rodeo, this bizarre fucked up clown festival, we’re here celebrating what I can only describe as the sickness at the core of America.” 

“Give me the assignment and I don’t miss. I’m gonna DIE before this is over.”

“Your tower’s gonna fall. Laugh it up now.” 

“A river of sweat is running down my back right now.”

“I do hate zombies and I will have nightmares about this tonight. But in this moment I just feel like I’m surrounded by friends.” 

“We don’t give a cum.”

“If you’re in a hole, DYING. I WON’T BE THERE.”

“I showed them my feet, [name]! I SHOWED THEM MY FEET FOR NOTHING?”

“Stop shaking your cock in the middle of a fucking huddle, dude!”

“I’d fuck that pie.”

“If you’re like me, you eat a lot of ass.”

“I hate capitalism but I also hate losing.”

“I get my tongue so far up somebody it’s like I’m tasting their tonsils. I get so deep in there I’m gonna burn myself with stomach acid.”

“I like perching like a little bisexual gargoyle”

“If you were performing on a subway I would take money away from you.”

“I’VE ONLY JUST BEGUN TO PULL THE THREAD ON THIS SWEATER.”

“Icarus flying too close to the sun, but it seems Daedalus our little mastercrafter over here had some WAX WINGS OF HIS OWN, didn’t he? Wanted to see his son fall, faaaalll from the sky, OH HOW CLOSE TO THE SUN HE FLEW”

“Hey can I get an ah? … Don’t scream at me.” 

“You kinda have the vibe that your kids call you by your first name.”

“The day I DON’T curse when a body falls from the sky, call somebody.”

“Could I place an order? I’m hungie. What do you think would be the best pizza to order if I’m quite hungie? Um, I like cheese, what is your largest pizza? Yeah let’s get an extra large because I’m hungie. I’m hungie, I’m hungie, I’m hungie.” 

“WE ARE NOT ANIMALS!!!”

“So long as I am on this stage and drawing breath, you can good and goddamn believe I’ll be trying my best in every challenge.”

“Was it bad that we just started smashing shit?” 

“You didn't count on INGENUITY did you motherfucker?!”

“FIGHT THE BOURGEOISIE. I WILL VENMO YOU $20.” 

“This could be hell. This is very Satre-esque.”

“YOU ARE NOT GOD. THE MACHINE IS GOD.”

“Can you tell us why you’d do this to us?”

“I won’t be made a fool”

“I do feel like I’m in a nightmare”

“I’m the only one OUT of the loop it seems”

“Everybody do the wenis! The wenis is a dance! Everybody is a genius! Who knows it in advance!” 

"DANCE IS A SIN!"

"You think I'm gonna fucking roll over?!"

"It'll be a COLD DAY IN HELL when I go out like a fucking chump!"

"I don't care about winning, I just don't wanna lose"

[wannaeatramyeon]

Fem!reader Isekai in Lookism ?

Anon, so sorry I'm answering this exactly 3 months later. You're my last request from May and I was soooo close to deleting it because I have had exactly zero ideas. Then I got partly inspired by @honeyhotteok fic here and now I'm running on less than 3hrs sleep in work and it's your fault. Oh yeah, and I've completely twisted the ask as well. It's not even close. So all that wait was for nothing 🙇🏻‍♀️

Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse

G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 2

There's something wrong with people your age these days.

Everyone seems to be either in a gang or up to some shady shit. Seriously what is going on. Is this all a big joke that only you aren't in on?

Just the other day you swear you saw a group of guys in boiler suits punch through some walls across the street. Like what the fuck? What did the wall ever do to you? And then someone apparently called Tabasco starts chanting something about Burn Knuckles and oh my fucking god it's 11pm please shut up.

Oh course you never said that, you still have some sense of self preservation.

And how does anyone even have the time for all this. Between school and this part time job, you barely have enough hours to sleep.

You miss Daniel, the coworker who you haven't seen for a good year but used to gossip into the early morning with. He always seemed a bit nervous and fidgety when you voiced your concerns and observations, but you just assumed he was a nervous and fidgety kinda guy.

There would have been some fun stories to share. Instead now you work the graveyard shift on your own.

.

.

Case in point, the guy standing in front of you looks like one bad conversation away from a mental breakdown.

And really you're not in the habit of checking out customers but he cuts a striking figure. Every exposed inch of skin besides his face inked, and (you silently ask for his forgiveness for the objectification) the biggest chest you have ever seen. What even is this guy eating? What is this guy injecting? Lifting?

The question is almost out of your mouth but then you see the look in his eyes and slam your lips shut.

Nevermind. You ring his purchases through and tell him to have a good night.

.

.

You're restocking the shelves when you notice a guy with a scar across his lip and nose, dripping blood from god knows where all over your freshly mopped floor.

Which is alarming in itself but come on man. Look at the floors. You're making it so fucking gross.

He notices you watching him, gives you an apologetic look and says he'll take care of it.

He makes a quick call and in comes 26 guys, one after the other and they line up in front of him.

You know it's exactly 26 because you counted all 26. And you've also watched all 26 pairs of dirty shoes trample over your previously nice clean floor.

The blood drippy guy asks politely for the mop and bucket and you think this must be some sort of prank because why the hell is this even necessary. 26 guys to share your one solitary mop and bucket and to clean a goddamn floor that you managed in 10 minutes.

"Get out." He blinks at you, taken aback by your tone. "Or I'm calling the police."

.

.

"You can bring your pups in!" You call out to the emo teen lurking outside.

Health and safety be damned because look how fucking cute these dogs are!

He hesitates but then the rain grows heavier and all three rush in.

You miss the suspicious glance he gives you, too fixated on how adorable the dogs are. You don't even mind their wet fur or muddy paws because look at these little babies!

And huh, this guy must really love them too with his, you squint, God? Dog? hoodie on. D'aww that's so stinking sweet.

.

.

Damnit, you knew these two would be trouble the moment they stepped foot into your store.

The tall blonde just gives off a distinct creepy vibe and the shorter one has his entire eyebrows shaved off.

Shaved. Off.

You couldn't help but stare when you put their purchases through and noticed some regrowth and stubble. Is this a trend you missed out on? Either way you're glad because there's no way you're shaving off your own eyebrows.

They converse in Japanese, not even saying a word to you. No thanks or anything, which is fine you suppose. But then they pay you in fucking yen.

They're out the door by the time you see the cash and fuck. Your boss is going to go apeshit when he finds out.

.

.

"What do you think, sweetheart?"

A new blonde guy addresses you tonight and for crying out loud, you just want a quiet shift.

What do you think of his white suit? With the garish LV logos? That it's tacky as fuck. That anyone with any sort of taste would never ever wear that. You keep your actual thoughts to yourself and instead just say it's fine.

That does nothing to subdue the blonde. He does stop talking to you though, and just mutters bitterly under his breath. You catch the words blind and tasteless.

His partner smirks at your response.

And isn't that a whole other kettle of fish because it's currently 2am and you're indoors and who the hell wears sunglasses right now. You think he's a douche of the highest calibre.

The smirk is wiped from his face when he asks for cigarettes and you ask for ID. He doesn't have it on him.

"No can do. No ID, no sale."

He leans aggressively into your space, and reveals his eyes peering over his sunglasses.

My god, what is up with this duo? One with the tacky suit, and this one with the ugly black contact lenses.

You don't budge and the guy is dragged out by the blonde cackling.

Ugh. That laugh gives you a headache for the rest of your shift.

.

.

You really wish customers would stop involving you in their conversation.

This one, who looks exactly like how you would imagine a SoundCloud rapper that has their mother following them and no one else, asks you to listen to his music.

He insists that he's good as the blonde girl rolls her eyes.

You listen to about 10 seconds and make up your mind.

He's wrong. He's very wrong. You want to suggest he gets checked out at the doctor because clearly his ears aren't working properly.

Instead, you mention you like Duke Pyeon, he's more your taste. Has he heard of him? It's the wrong thing to say though because this guy looks angrier than you've ever seen anyone.

"Don't start Vin, I've seen you listening to his music." The girl scoffs.

'Vin' shouts in indignation and storms off with his friend trailing closely behind.

.

.

"Can I help?" You ask with your customer service voice and customer service smile.

He has been standing in front of the hair dyes for a good ten minutes as his friend looks increasingly bored and you can't blame him.

"No thanks, I'm just browsing," he responds and you tell him you'll be just over there if he needs anything.

You kill some time playing on your phone, look up, and both of them are still in the exact same spot.

The one with the H on his neck looks about ready to tear his hair out.

"Come on bro, just pick one!"

"No Warren, this is important. I need it to suit my new aesthetics."

You shrug and return back to your kitty kat restaurant game.

.

.

"Cool glasses," you tell the guy walking around the store and he looks affronted at first before realising you're being sincere and gives you a small smile instead.

You wonder if you can pull off orange tinted glasses too or whether you'd just look like an idiot. It's probably the latter you decide when you ring up his energy drinks.

"I'm a boxer," he offers, as if you're judging the amount of caffeine he's going to slam down.

"Ok?"

"I need it for my training."

"Sure."

You've seen weirder purchases and weirder combinations. The people coming in looking frantic and buying a single plunger or pack of toilet paper never fails to make you chuckle.

To be honest the amount he's buying is a bit nuts, and you wonder if he's going to drink it all in one go. You probably wouldn't sleep for a year if it was you.

"Enjoy your training," you say, heaving and handing over the bag of 19 cans.

.

.

A mute blonde gestures at you

You try to use some sign language, but he looks at you as if you're crazy. At least you think he does but you can't see his eyes.

Somehow you're able to decipher he's lost his dogs. Four. Golden retrievers. And he asks if you have seen them.

(Huh. Do you have telepathy? Do you have the gift?)

You tell him no and he sprints out.

You spend the rest of your shift trying to move things with your newly discovered psychic powers.

Spoiler: you have zero powers. Zilch.

.

.

You think you might be having a stroke.

Because on what planet did this K-pop idol think the disguise would work. Cap and mask on but tufts of pink hair poking out and dressed completely in white.

It's like he's asking for attention and for people to ooh and aah over who that could be.

As he leaves, you shout that you can't wait for his next album. He turns around in complete shock that you recognised him, as if you solved the world's hardest puzzle.

It's a good job that DG has such a pretty face because what an idiot.

.

.

You hear two voices mention the words Daniel Park and your ears perk up, wondering if it's about your old colleague.

Nah. You're just being silly. It's not an uncommon name at all and too much of a coincidence.

"I haven't seen Daniel in ages! Have you heard from him, Zoe?"

"No," you see her friend shake her head from the corner of your eye.

The brown haired girl tilts her head in thought, "I wonder how Zack is doing too. I haven't seen him in so long."

"Ohhh~ you miss him!"

"O-of course I do! He's a friend!" She blushes bright red and you chuckle to yourself.

'Friend', sure.

For the rest of the shift, you reminisce about how you used to tiptoe around your feelings with your boyfriend, Taehoon, too.

[noneorother]

There's a *puppet* show going on in the magic shop, and it looks awfully familiar...

(Insert unhealthy number of rewatches here) The magic shop in S2 is a real jewel box. There's so much symbolism and so many easter eggs, it starts to make your head spin. But I found something really weird going on with the puppets (or should I say angels) in the background...

Here's 1941 : you can see on the left what looks like closed red curtains, and a coatrack with puppets behind Crowley here.

Where am I going with this? Well, don't those puppets look familiar?

For my money, they really look like silly versions of Crowley and Aziraphale, with a few other familiar puppets hiding on the other side of the rack.

Now here's that exact same shot in the present. The red curtain falls away to reveal: An extremely symmetrical arrangement of truly weird puppets. The puppet in the glass case near the back is the same.*

It probably just looks like a creepy display, with our familiar Aziraphale and Crowley puppets, until I do this:

To me at least, this arrangement really looks like a depiction of a synaxis of the hosts of bodiless powers (i.e. angels) before Jesus. If you study European art history, you can't escape medieval religious iconography. It's kind of a big deal. I've put this example of Mary flanked by the nine ranks of Angels from a Cathedral in Exeter above, but you can find 100 examples of this kind of eerily symmetrical and hierarchical ranking of angels with god, Jesus, Mary etc... Before I break it down, you have to know that in the medieval period, and especially in religious art and iconography, the relative size and position of figures is WAY more important than realism or accuracy.

Obviously the costumes don't match one to one, but you get enough of a vibe that once you start seeing it you can't UNSEE it. The relationships of position and size here are fascinating to me. For one, what the hell are two Crowleys doing in a host arrangement in present day? He's not even an angel. In the second row we have archangels Gabriel, the flopsy twins Uriel and Michael, and a slightly larger Saraqael head in the center. Is Saraqael actually more important here? Technically Jim is still an archangel, so he gets the mirror of the Gabriel position, but as a sad clown wearing a tartan blanket. We also have two tiny dolls (not puppets) with star name tags, one keeled over wearing brown, and one sitting up and smiling, wearing blue. I've named them tentatively Adam & Jesus for now, because that's the vibe I'm getting, but who knows. Here's the usual position of the Jesus in a synaxis for comparison.

In the lowest row, we bizarrely have arguably the most powerful angel, The Metatron (shown here with a dark floppy overcoat hiding the fact the doll has no body) and what I can only imagine is Maggie with blonde hair and blue eyes? What? Now, the doll I'm calling God in the middle for the large size, and the fact their head is always cut off above the framing in the shot. God is clearly looming large over the rest of the host, but is in a lower hierarchy (with Muriel, Crowley & Aziraphale being fairly low ranking at this point in the show) and also has NO HANDS, a clown face and BLOOD SMEARS on their overalls. Yikes. If you take a look at the top-down shot of the dolls, you can see how they had to completely redo the god-doll's hair. This is a specific vintage English doll called "Bimbo the clown". You can see the original hair always has a fringe, and the yarn locks are usually much bigger. Compare with the new hair in the top view of the present-day shop.

Hey. Does that hair style look familiar to anyone?

Look. I don't want to go claiming something THIS insane from one doll's hairstyle in a background shot. I'm not trying to convince you this is irrefutable proof that there's some sort of storyline where Nina is actually God. But it's interesting they took the trouble to re-make the doll's hair (and costume) to look like Nina's, even when it is almost never seen, much less noticed. The fact that the god-doll is also a clown got me thinking of the Gabriel and Jim dolls, and that maybe there's another doll in the shop that should double with Bimbo? *Here's the only other doll with a name card in the magic shop in either time, the one in the glass case :

Even though we barely see it, we can tell it's wearing the same outfit as the 1941 magician. Why? If this one is the equivalent of the real god, and not the sad clown version, and if it's locked up in a box somewhere, unable to free themselves, is that why we haven't heard from them in season 2....? So many questions. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thanks to @kimberleyjean and @embracing-the-ineffable for additional pictures.

[esamastation]

Part thirty-six of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five

-

What do you get when you take the random encounters of a turn-based RPG and add a hefty dose of action RPG, and then turn that into a semi-realistic world? You get absolute shitton of critters.

There's so many. Not just types, of which there admittedly aren't that many. There are lizards called Tail Vaults that try to headgrab you, there are huge beetles called, weirdly, Bizarre Bugs that either try to body slam you or poison you, depending on whether they feel like flying or not, there are birds that try to electrocute you, which are, disappointingly, called Thunderbirds - disappointing, because they're barely the size of falcons and something called Thunderbird should honestly be bigger…

Sephiroth is really starting to feel at home here! While the monsters of Final Fantasy VII so far aren't exactly impressing him with their variety or imaginativeness, they're just about on par with PIDW with how fucking annoying they are.

Because they never fucking stop coming!

"You know, I was really enjoying this," Sephiroth comments after another random encounter with half a dozen or so mixed mobs. "I was having such a good day. But these things just don't stop coming, do they?"

"Welcome to Wutai, it's all bugs and angry grasses from here to the bitter end," Angeal agrees. "Just be glad there aren't any Adamantaimai here."

"What's that?" 

"Big turtle with a bunch of shield magic that throws all your attacks back at you."

"Ooh, I want to see one!" Sephiroth says excitedly.

"Sephiroth, no," Angeal says firmly.

"But -"

"Firstly, they live in the northern end of Wutai, so it would be a week's trek there, and for two we have our hands full here," Angeal says. "We're not going to see Adamantaimai."

Sephiroth sighs. "Fine," he mutters and looks ahead. "Oh, look, more bugs."

"Back to it, then," Angeal agrees, adjusting his gloves.

Though they can't seem to take more than twenty steps before running into more monsters, the fights themselves aren't hard. It's actually really cool, to just mow them down in single swings like he can! The Liu-shidi vibes are incredible, just, ten out of ten. And the more Sephiroth fights, the more comfortable with his body he becomes. He can almost feel his meridians unwinding!

It's really quite something to be in a body that feels so at ease, swinging a sword around. Though he could've done without the whole villain alien hybrid who will one day try to destroy us all thing, there's something really nice about fighting now. Like Shen Qingqiu felt at ease reading or painting or playing music, Sephiroth's feels most comfortable swinging a sword.

It's really becoming more and more apparent by the moment that Sephiroth's body is best suited for physical cultivation. He can just feel his stress levels coming down!

Ah, but he would really like a little break to take in the rest of what Wutai wildlife has to offer too! The forest around them isn't just a backdrop in a battle screen, there's all kinds of interesting plants, and he's pretty sure he's seen some familiar trees, and Sephiroth would really like to take a closer look!

"Can we take a break?" he asks, trying not to sound too plaintive after the umpteenth fight against endlessly spawning mobs.

"Are you getting tired?" Angela asks, alarmed.

Honestly he doesn't even feel like he's been exercising. Sephiroth has a fucking golden body, it's ridiculous. "No. I just want a break."

"Yeah, sure - we'll take a break," Angeal says and deals away with the rest of their most recent patch of enemies. "What's going on - are you alright?"

"I'm fine - I just want to take a look at that tree over there," Sephiroth says, nodding. There's a really huge tree a little ways from them, big enough that it's visible at a distance and past the other trees. 

"Huh? I mean, sure?" Angeal says and looks. "I guess it's pretty impressive - is there something wrong with it?"

No, it just looks like a ginkgo tree. Sephiroth shrugs and, after making sure they're not about to be stormed by another swarm of low-level mobs, walks over to the tree.

It is a ginkgo tree, a really old one - old enough that if it was in PIDW, the locals would've already started giving it tributes in expectation of its awakening. It's so big it's starting to push out other trees around it, outcompeting them for space and sunlight, and so creating a clearing around itself.

It really… looks like a stray piece of home. Though there weren't that many ginkgo trees on Cang Qiong Mountain, there were some - including one really impressive one on the Beast Peak, which they were expecting to awaken any year now. The disciples used to hang charms from its branches.

Sephiroth puts his sword away as he approaches the tree. Feeling a bit silly but also not wanting to be rude, he bows to the tree before going closer. Gently, he rests his hand against the tree trunk. It takes some effort… but he can feel the Qi flowing in the tree trunk. There's a lot of it, too.

The tree is not awakening - but at the same time is not… not awakened already? 

Probably something to do with the cyclic nature of souls in this world. Everything is sort of reincarnation of everything else - so the Qi in the tree is thousands of years old, thousands of lives lived.

"... Sephiroth?" Angeal asks quietly. "What are you, um…?"

"This tree is old. Very old," Sephiroth says - then bites his tongue on the natural conclusion of that statement in old as balls. Trying not to lose his composure, he looks up. "No trees like these near Midgar."

"... No, there aren't," Angeal agrees, eyeing him. "Can you… feel something from the tree?"

Sephiroth looks down at him. "You mean the Lifestream coursing through it?"

Angeal looks a bit startled at that before shrugging, uncomfortable. "I know they all say that Lifestream is just a bunch of nonsense - but it's like you said," he says. "No trees like this around Midgar."

"Mn," Sephiroth hums.

"You know, sometimes I wonder what might've happened if they built a reactor in the Mideel Islands," Angeal says, considering the tree. "They say the ground is too unstable and there's too many earthquakes, but… if they had…"

Mideel is this world's version of the Pacific islands, right? "All your weird apple trees would've died, probably," Sephiroth muses.

"How dare you call our apples weird, sir," Angeal says, mock offended. "I would have you know, Banora Whites are my hometown's main export!"

"Don't you call them stupid apples or something?"

"Dumb apples," Angeal says with a huff.

"I rest my case," Sephiroth snorts and looks up at the Ginkgo tree. Sunlight is screening through the leaves, like dancing sparkles of gold, and if he was Shen Qingqiu, he'd try his hand at a poem for it just about now. Maybe he could do a bit of meditation here…

And of course that's when there's a sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling somewhere behind them as something large and probably angry comes their way. Damn.

"I guess break time is over," Sephiroth mutters and grabs his sword. "I know there's an Enemy Lure materia - is there an Enemy Repellant one?"

"If I ever find one, I'll let you know," Angeal says, putting his fists up.

And they're back into the fray.

[teecupangel]

Hi teecup, I hope ur having a great day/noon/night!

Forgive me if the things i'm about to say don't make much sense. It's been a vey, very, very, difficult time for me and my countrymen here, and my ability to make coherent sentences have declined drastically. So, yeah... BUT! That doesn't matter haha.

Anyways, I had a thought. And i'm not even sure how or why i got it but.... hear me out now...

Our boy, Desmond, gets thrown back in time as usual, same old same old, right? Exept, this time he doesn't end up in the Big Three™'s time-line. He ends up in Al-Mualim's time. *insert mind-blown emoji here cuz i can't find it rn*

And ik that i'm not a certified AC Expert like u and many others, and i haven't really finished any of the AC games yet (i've only seen bits of AC III and have only started AC 2, I also haven't finished AC 1)

But I do know that he wasn't really that creepy and evil in his youth/ b4 he became The Old Man of the Moutain, so i was thinking maybe Desmond ends up in that era of Al Mualim or is it Rashid al-Din Sinan? I know that he's based on a real historical figure but i'm not so sure if he's called that in-game?

And knowing Desmond, he'd probably get the urge to kill Rashid (i hope i'm using the name correctly) the time he figures shit out and connect that dots. But he would end up not doing that, cuz u know, it might fuck up the time-line and Altaïr might end up not being born, creating a domino-effect.

I want Desmond to meet Rashid before he starts to becom the Al Mualim we know today, so that Desmond can see how he was b4 the evants of AC 1.

Maybe Rashid's an arrogant ass, or a nerdy loser, or a popular assassin- who knows! The possibilites are endless!! (or maybe he's an obsessive bastard who gets obsessed with Desmond cuz he's just full of mysteries and wonders :Dc )

And blah blah blah, plot here, plot there, Isu-bullshit this, time shenanigans that, and BOOM they meet.

And romance ensues? :3 (romace wil absolutely ensue :}}} )

NOW, BEFORE- BEFORE YOU TIE ME TO A STAKE AND BURN ME ALIVE FOR THIS- i think it'd be a cute idea, and who knows? maybe Rashid was hot in his prime *insert lenny face cuz even after all these years i still don't know how to type it and is too lazy to cop paste it* and maybe he liked to solve mysteries and had a thing for the unexplainable. And Desmond is the most unexplainable, most bizarre thing to have graced the earth :33333.

Now that i've got this idea out of my system i'm gonna go pray for the down fall of my coutry's shit for brain, good for nothing military government/hj.

bye! *evaporates*

I hope you’re doing alright and I’m sorry that it took two months before I could answer your ask TTATT

As far as I know, he was only called Al Mualim because of legal reasons but Rashid ad-Din Sinan was the leader of the Assassins in Masyaf during 1191 so it’s safe to assume Al Mualim is AC’s version of Rashid (historically he died in 1193, not 1191.

.

Okay. We can make this work.

We put Desmond at around the same time he’s the recruit and we make it hard for him to realize he’s Al Mualim until it’s too late by doing one simple thing:

Desmond doesn’t know Al Mualim’s real name.

He always knew it as Al Mualim. As far as he knew, Al Mualim was his actual name.

Then he remembered that Al Mualim can mean mentor and bangs his head on the nearest flat surface.

His mission has been clear from the start.

Become an Assassin, take out Al Mualim before he does shit, find Umar and adopt him then play matchmaker so Altaïr would be born.

And no.

Desmond wasn’t going to think about the whole “can you truly be sure that the person who will be born will be Altaïr if you change the circumstances of his conception?”

Yeah.

His head hurts just thinking about it so he won’t.

For now, he’ll focus on his training while keeping a look out for anyone who gives of Al Mualim vibes.

What’s the Al Mualim vibes?

Manipulative old man vibes.

The problem is…

Rashid is one of the recruits in the same batch as Desmond and he becomes Desmond’s closest friend.

And there was no way Desmond would ever be friends with a future power hungry asshole like Al Mualim.

No way.

.

The way their relationship becomes romantic really depends on the kind of personality young Rashid would have.

A nerdy loser who starts making a name for himself because of his intelligence and tactical mind would start off as the kid Desmond sorta looks after. When he starts to show that his strength lies in making plans and quick judgments, he becomes the man whispering on Desmond’s ear. Providing plans and suggestions while giving Desmond a heads up on the less savory words people say about him. Desmond would never think this Rashid is Al Mualim because he’s nice and truly do want to help Desmond. This is also how Rashid would show his love for Desmond and, really, Desmond would think they’re bros and when he realizes that Rashid actually loves him, he’d think “oh, I am Ezio’s descendant”

An arrogant ass Rashid would butt heads with Desmond but Desmond would find himself fond of the man because he reminds him of AC1 Altaïr. This is the Rashid who would definitely be counted as a tsundere and their relationship would start when Rashid just flatout tells Desmond that he wants to do unspeakable things to him while they’re arguing. Desmond is offended because “tugging on my pigtails doesn’t work in real life, dumbass!” and Rashid is just “???” because what the fuck are pigtails??? Lots of awkwardness until Desmond realize that butting heads with Rashid is really how they flirt.

Now. Popular Assassin Rashid is more on the side of polite but is absolutely Desmond’s rival. Whatever it is, the two of them are always competing. Unlike the arrogant ass version, this Rashid is always nice to Desmond. The whole “no hard feelings” and pure competitiveness are what drives their relationship. This is the one where the two of them spar privately one time and things happen. They would try to distant themselves from one another for a bit until they finally talk it out. Rashid honestly didn’t think he loved Desmond until the whole ‘after-sparring’ thing.

Whichever you pick as Rashid’s background, he will become obsessed with Desmond but it’s more on the side of “I will do everything to make Desmond happy” which is good for Desmond but not really good for anyone against him.

.

Desmond is the one who adopts Umar in this one and Umar imprints on him like a baby duckling to a mama duckling. Everyone actually assumed Umar is his bastard son. Desmond ignores it even though he’s only like… a decade and a half older than Umar.

Rashid definitely treats him like Desmond’s son. He’s Umar’s favorite of all of Desmond’s friends.

And really, Desmond should have seen that as a hint of Rashid’s ‘future’.

Speaking of the future.

He’s been looking for Al Mualim this entire time and he has his suspects (Rashid, however, is not on the list) but honestly?

He’s just waiting for the person who would be picked as the one to lead the expansion to Masyaf since that would be Al Mualim.

Desmond has, unfortunately, fucked up the timeline so badly that the person chosen to lead the expansion?

It was Desmond.

.

Sidebar: Faheem would be that cute younger brother who turns grumpy when he grows up. Desmond will forever grieve the lost of little cute Faheem. Faheem is always embarrassed when Desmond talked about his ‘past’.

[coldgoldlazarus]

Every so often I come across someone making derisive comments about something, using Bionicle as a point of comparison in a context clearly meant to be unfavorable to both of them. "Oh ew, that character design looks like a Bionicle lol" or "These are bizarre names, why would you do this, it's like Bionicles", that sort of thing.

Sometimes it's more of a lighthearted jab with no real malice behind it, but far more often there's a certain vibe to it that really puts me off. Usually in the latter case, it's an immediate signal to me that that person's takes are not to be trusted at face value. I'm not going to try to prescribe a higher political/moral dimension to it or anything, but I do think there is still something more to it than just "how dare you be mean to this thing I like!" too.

I can understand a joke about how weird Bionicle is, because let's be honest here: Bionicle is weird. Its aesthetic is weird and unusual, its universe is pretty far removed from a modern human frame of reference, and it asks you to care about and take at face value stuff the average joe normie probably won't. As kinda unfortunate in hindsight as the "Bionicle boy" marketing stereotype Lego was aiming for with it is, I think it's not unfair to say that the vast majority of the series' dedicated fans are some flavor of neurodivergent, and it has a specific appeal to us that has an equal and opposite non-appeal to the casual market.

But I think what gets me so much about those derisive comments and comparisons, is it goes beyond just not understanding something weird. It is saying that something is weird, with the heavily implicit collorary that 'weird' is bad. And that in turn tells me something about the worldview of the person making those comments.

[do-you-know-this-baby]

About the blog:

Here's a blog for people who play games, watch shows, read books and go "awww it's a baby" everytime a baby is on screen. For people with baby fever. For cute design enjoyers. We shall create a collage of fictional babies. I am ready for the realization that i'm the only one who finds this funny. I run the blog @do-you-ship-it-polls as well.

NO PEDOS!!!!!! otherwise Monaca and her gang are going to obliterate you. Please also DNI if you enjoy nsfw of lolis/shotas etc.

Submissions rules:

Here's a graph to determine if they are a baby:

But you can submit whoever you like if they have the right vibes.

Submit either through the form below, or my ask box.

Only fictional characters

Any form of media is ok, like anime/games/tv-shows/books etc.

Harry Potter, Hazbin hotel and Helluva boss are currently banned.

You can include information/propaganda with your submission if you'd like to add extra information. It can be as serious or goofy as you want. Just be nice.

That is probably all. Go submit!

and here is a queue, doesn't look great but fulfills the purpose anyway, right? if you see one you want to add extra info to, you can. btw me skipping over them at first doesn't mean they won't be added.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

hello hello! Are you still doing fluffy prompts? If so may I please ask for cuddling in a bathtub or something?

I'm not annoning I have no shame or dignity left

so your idea spurred another idea. it is tangential, but i hope it still delivers on the Soft Vibes. thank u for prompting 🫂

don't take too much (off of me)

📝 1.3k words 💟 lestappen 🟢 rated G 🔗 also on ao3

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not.”

Charles twirls the scissors between two fingers, hoping that his posture is authoritative enough that Max will quit squirming in his chair. They are in the middle of lockdown and neither is sure when their tentative friendship turned into this – at first it was innocuous knocks on the door to play FIFA, then it was to borrow a jar of pesto here and there. Then, trampling into each other’s apartments. Max knowing to wipe his shoes on the carpet, Charles helping pick up cat food on his regular run to the grocery store (in line with lockdown mandates, they’re only allowed to go to the store twice a week.)

And now they are here. Max sitting on a dining room chair, leaning back, a makeshift cowl around his shoulders that Charles had stolen from his maman’s salon. Max tries not to twitch or move, knowing that the process of hair cutting is a delicate process. Sure, he has sat for a haircut many times before, but never under the hands of this erratic ball of energy that is Charles Leclerc, who is currently brandishing a blade like a child would a spork.

“Do you trust me, or not?” Charles says. Indignant.

“I’m here, am I not?”

“Unhappily, it seems.”

“Kerel. You have wavy hair. You look like a Disney prince. Me? One wrong move of the scissors and there will be memes in my name.”

“But it’s kind of fun when they are making the memes about you. No?”

Max glowers. “It is when they’re nice ones.”

Charles makes a noise between a snort and a guffaw. Charles perched on a stool behind him, so he can’t see the other man’s expression. But when Max looks to the corner of his living room, Max can see Charles’s face in the reflection there. Just a sliver of his face, in profile. Max expects to find Charles’s eyes crinkled, maybe teasing. Max is used to it, after all. Being the an easy target, a convenient villain. Because a lion never roars back. Not outside of the track, anyway. Even if he sometimes hides in his apartment with his cats and licks his wounds instead.

Max’s shoulders tense, hackles up. But Charles’s eyes are very soft. The punchline never comes.

“Well. I think you very handsome, Maximilian.” Charles says.

Oh. Max’s throat bobs. He doesn’t really know what to say. He’s been called many things in the past. Handsome isn’t necessarily one of them. And somehow it has a greater weight, a different bearing, when it comes from Charles. Because Charles is someone he’s begun to acknowledge that he cares about, perhaps a great deal.

“And now! We are doing the short at the sides and long at the top, oui?” Charles says. Snapping straighter in his makeshift hairdresser’s stool, energy whipping through him like lightning. Changing the topic as if he hadn’t just confessed to Max the very same thing that Max has been thinking about Charles for weeks – or if he’s honest – years, now.

“Whatever you do, make sure it’s tidy, yeah?”

“Come on mate. I am always careful.”

“Like you were when you drove into the Copse wall.”

“That was an isolated incident. Due to a combination of unexpected mechanical factors.”

“Pfft. Okay. Save that response for Sky.”

“You’re nearly as annoying as them, sometimes.” Charles says, frown gentle before he lifts the scissors again. 

Comfortably back in their banter-y element, the chatter continues. Charles is careful about his work, the blades moving slowly and carefully. And what Charles lacks in finesse he makes up for in social skills, clearly inheriting this from his parents. Talking and filling the silence comfortably, wandering from topics as diverse as sailing on the Monaco coastline, to David Guetta’s recent bizarre fundraiser video, to the latest model of automatic cat feeder that has become available on the market. Charles’s fingers brush his jaw occasionally to adjust the angle, scissors glinting in the afternoon sun. Max deliberately avoids eye contact, only glimpsing at him occasionally to share a laugh. 

At the end, Charles uses a towel to brush the loose hair off Max’s neck. They both get up to stand at Max’s living room mirror, surveying Charles’s handiwork. Their reflections loom large, shoulder to shoulder at the same height. Besides, Max isn’t really looking at himself, and neither is Charles, either.

“It’s good, yes?” Charles says. Low, conspiratorial.

Max’s grip tightens on the towel that he’s holding. His pulse etches up. The whole afternoon has been gentle touch, contact that aches because the pandemic has made him even more pathetically wanting than usual. Contact that he’s been trying very hard not to think about or keep for more nefarious purposes later. 

The other man's gaze is warm in the mirror. Max thinks of fresh cut grass at Imola, his favourite corner in Silverstone.

“Yes.” Max says. It’s good. The haircut, him, them. This strange rhythm they’ve found together. The quiet space of each other’s apartment, each other’s company, temporarily safe from the world. The trust offered to one another: enough to let them run you into gravel and trust that it was worth the fight. Enough to hold a blade in your hand and only let one other person in the world come near you with it. Risk, and promise.

Then he’s turning towards Charles. Charles mirroring him. The light is bright and the sky blue in the window, but all Max can see for a moment is Charles’s face, his half open mouth ripe like a plum. The scent, this close, of Charles’s carrefour laundry softener and woody aftershave.

And they’re leaning towards each other, a boundary they might finally cross, let the cards fall where they fucking may, when—

A yowl. A screech. A mighty crash. 

“Sassy!” Max says, practically jumping out of his skin.

Both men whip around at the source of the noise. Sassy’s frozen on a shelf, a beige mass with yellow eyes. Paw half up, looking guilty – if a cat could look guilty– at a trophy that he has just knocked off a counter. Jimmy, on the other hand, is absolutely nowhere to be seen, already having escaped the scene of the crime.

Max groans into his hands. But then Charles is laughing, an asthmatic penguin noise that Max has really come to like. It melts the fire in Max a little, amusement tempering his frustration. (The trophy is not the source of Max’s current frustration, but Charles does not need to know that.) 

“I shall get the broom.” Charles says.

“Thanks.”

So the moment passes. They clean up. On their hands and knees, near, but not touching. The broken trophy is the one he got for his overtake on Nasr in his first year in F1, and offers a chance for them to reminisce about their races. For Max to joke a little about whether Charles will get his first WDC when the pandemic is over, both of them excited about the future, a future with both of them in it, still trying, still racing each other to the brink. It’s much easier to do this, than to talk about the almost-kiss, or break the seal on this moment that they know won’t last forever.

Debris cleared, and the cats shooed into the study, Charles mentions that he should go return his equipment to his mother. They stand at the doorway for a moment that stretches too long.

Max doesn’t know how long they have. Of this, of each other. Of being left alone, of the world not encroaching with cameras or demands for explanations or labels for what they are. Of getting to know each other not as competitors, but on their own terms, in their own time.

But for a long time, Max will always remember this moment. The two of them, a dining chair. His crazy cats, Charles’s toothy smile. Their partial reflections in the mirror, an afternoon unfolding with potential.

A warm hand on his back to let him know he’s cared for, and looked after.

[tossawary]

I'm letting the 1984 "Dune" film play in the background and there's a LOT to say about this beautifully campy ridiculousness, but the part that's really getting me is the "inner voices". The audience at times hears the internal thoughts of various characters, presumably taken largely from the book, in a whispery voice. And it's not even just from Paul! It's from his mother and father and other characters as well, each making various observations and sometimes delivering exposition via their thoughts shared in voiceover narration.

Character A: "Greetings, Character B."

Character B: "A pleasure, Character A."

Character A: (inner voice) "That special outfit indicates that this person is secretly working for our enemies."

I made this exchange up, but that's the vibe here and it's wild. It's shockingly frequent too! Directly sharing character thoughts like this is something I'm used to seeing only in older novels, comics, and anime, due to the strengths and limits of their mediums. Like, the last thing that I was watching with any "tell, don't show" device similar to this was probably "Jojo's Bizarre Adventure"! It's striking (not a compliment) when other live action film (including the most recent "Dune" films) tends to prefer using actors' expressions and body language to communicate certain "unspoken" ideas like suspicion or affection or awe, and to let other sweeping visuals and musical cues speak for themselves as well.

You can also just have the lights go out, zoom in on a character's face, and have them whisper aloud, "Sabotage!" if you need to be that blunt about it, rather than have us hear the character's thoughts directly. You can insert a conversation of "as you know" technobabble between characters if you really have to do hasty exposition.

I don't want to call this film style "bad" exactly, inherently. But it's more than a little confusing when some characters are a little telepathic(?) and lighting is dim, so I'm briefly unsure which characters actually heard certain lines.

And I do personally think this kind of heavy-handed bluntness generally undermines what can be achieved with acting, sound design, music, set design, prop design, costume design, and so on. And I also think that a degree of uncertainty for the audience can be good for tension anyway. These inner thoughts being shared in this film are generally not ideas that couldn't be communicated through acting, visuals, or direct dialogue between characters, so this choice by the film often feels redundant and clumsy to me. Let the actors do what they're good at! Good actors can often communicate their emotions and thoughts to us without words! Or they can at least stand there while a majestic musical score communicates to us the depths of the character's grief and determination.

Like, not every use of voiceover narration in film is a bad thing. It's a choice. Sometimes it works really well and sometimes it doesn't. Voiceover narration often gets used at the beginning of films because it's an efficient way to quickly convey a lot of exposition and set the tone of the story!

But this film seems like it has a bad case of "science fiction is obviously too confusing for movie audiences to follow just by watching the characters move through the world and interact with each other, so we had better hold their hand every step of the way via voiceover narration constantly overshadowing the acting and musical score". It's not really helping the story, in my opinion. It's not letting the film breathe. Though "showing" in storytelling is often preferable, "telling" in a story is not always bad, but damn, this is a LOT of "telling" for an audio-visual medium.

[bonefall]

GOD THE ERIN'S THING WITH BIO PARENTS I'm rereading the series and I just got to Hollyleaf's death in The Last Hope and it makes me so mad how Leafpool is the only one who comforts her. Jayfeather only gets to shake and Squirrelflight is just fucking vibing in the background in a battle patrol. Fallen Leaves is more upset than her. SO mad so mad so mad

MAN LIKE... Please understand that I'm saying this with Leafpool love in my Leafpool heart. But it frustrates me immensely that the books went in the direction they did with the parentage of the three. There's SO much wrong here

The plot seems to believe, just post-reveal, that Squilf has to pretend like she doesn't love them so that Ashfur won't kill them (the fuck??)

As if Firestar would just ALLOW an attempted fucking murderer to hang out in his Clan???

Like, go back and read it, she says, "Go ahead Ashfur, kill them, you won't hurt me if you do. They are not my kits." LIKE??

Ashfur: "Wow I totally believe you! I just tried to murder 3 people including a medcat in cold fucking blood and all of you are witnesses now, but rats! I've been foiled! Fire scene cancelled!"

I remember reading this as a kid and being like "This scene sucks. Ashfur would never. Squilf loves her children. 1000000000 lionblazes kill this man now" and little Bones was SO correct

Brambleclaw ABANDONING HIS CHILDREN is just never properly addressed. He was willing to cover up murder earlier in the book for Holly but the minute he finds out they didn't come out of Squilf he's like "nevermind"

He throws a tantrum for all of OotS and then, only at the end, when Squilf calls out that he's throwing his whole family away because he's mad at her, does he reconsider any of his actions.

I think he's entitled to being upset and having his negative emotions, but NOT in how he ended up treating all these people who have been nothing but adoring and apologetic towards him. But nope, no deeper reckoning with that, Squilf does a Cosgrove ass "Hey! Cut it out!" and that's it.

And Leafpool gets put through this too. Leafpool is now completely and fully considered their mom, comforting them as their parent post-reveal. She didn't raise them and yet it's just considered normal that she's the one with a bunch of emotionally soothing scenes with her biokits

Like... I love the idea of her finally being able to acknowledge something she's hidden for so long. But, these cats never saw her as a mother. She was their aunt and their whole life has been rearranged, the emotions they're facing towards this reveal are nothing but negative. Their "father" has also disowned them, treating their mother like shit, and Squilf is keeping her distance believing this is all her own fault.

The feelings here should be SUPER complicated, and that's really JUICY!! We were ROBBED of something waaaay more emotional because of this bizarre commitment to treating bioparents as always better than adopted ones.

OotS kills meee mannn

OH and don't even get me started on how they needed to make Squilf pregnant with Bramblestar's kits in the end because they don't believe adopted kids are equal to bio ones, but also couldn't commit to making their precious Bramble into a bad person who remained adamant about cutting off all his old "family." Alder and Spark should have been Jessy kits and I'll die on this hill

(and also jessy should have cat divorced him after. and also commit to bramble being a toxic parent.)

[alt-wannabe]

MCSR D&D

Couriway time!

Order of Scribes Wizard 15

I'm havin a little trouble with fulham's sheet so if anyone has any thoughts or suggestions about that lmk! Either way ill try to have his character sheet posted tomorrow!

More under the cut like always :) thanks for showing interest yall!!!

Wizard is lowk my favorite class in the game so I was super excited to make one! I ended up making couri an aarakocra in order to give him a fly speed but in my mind he's just a human lookin guy w/ wings and not like a full bird-person.

Here's his spell list! I was a lot less focused on picking minecraft related spells here and focused a lot more on general versatility (IE making a wizard without shield or mage armor would be very bizarre, especially once you clock that couri's AC is ELEVEN). Some of the things I did specifically pick out with couri in mind include scrying/locate creature (scrying is sorta like finding the stronghold and locate creature acts as finding spawners) and tiny hut (this was just me thinking about his house on HBGSMP).

Here are the items I gave him! The spell focus I picked was an orb cause it reminded me of an eye of ender. He also has 16 pearls and 5 rods (even though they're definitely not created with the minecraft counterparts in mind lmao). I'm gonna be real I gave him the eyes of charming almost entirely because they look like a pair of big round glasses. Similar logic behind the circlet of blasting- it's a crown. The boots are pretty much just a speedrunning reference and I hope staff of WITHERing is also fairly obvious lol. The robe of eyes is a little more interesting. It's basically what it says on the tin- a robe covered in eyes that allows you to see in every direction at all times. This seemed fitting for couri based on just the sheet number of seeds he runs, being aware of your environment at all times holds extra importance when you run than many different worlds.

This book is why I ended up going with order of scribes as his subclass. You cannot tell me that this thing isn't his chat. It's a little sentient book that follows him around!

Finally these are his feats! TBH basically the entirety of my reasoning behind picking telepathic is I needed a +1 boost to intelligence to get him to 20 for that stat lmao. Skill expert also seemed fitting in like a "practice makes perfect" type of manner again because of the sheer amount of no reset speedrunning he does.

This character sheet had a lot more of choices based on vibes alone than either fruit or fein's did, but I hope yall still see the vision lol. Fulham's sheet coming sometime tomorrow! (if I remember to post it)

[theamityelf]

Since I'm never going to take the time to actually write an SDR2 musical, I'm just going to post all my Danganronpa 2 musical brainstorms that I dumped on some acquaintances on Discord. Just as documentation.

First of all (and this is genuinely just copy-pasted in the order I said it.), Akane would have an upbeat song like Violet's in the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory musical. And maybe Nekomaru would keep trying to interrupt with a more basic melody, but then she keeps interrupting him back. Gundham’s song would be similar to H-llfire from Hunchback.

Akane's stuff could have shades of Dead Girl Walking (Reprise) from Heathers, if that makes sense. Just a vibe thing.

Plot-wise, I think the Twilight Syndrome Murder case can be dropped to just the envelope of photos, but I'd like to include the Funhouse if possible. (I specified this because I know the stageplay dropped the Funhouse, and precedent makes me stubborn.)

Chapter One:

First scene is just Hajime being confused and meeting people. Maybe we meet everyone through song, where everyone gets a verse to say their talent and their general deal.

Then we have Usami overpowered by Monokuma and Monokuma establishing the killing game. I'm thinking no song for that.

Impostor gets a song where he becomes the leader and encourages everyone.

First murder happens. A song for the trial, where Teruteru gets kind of Patter Song vibes to convey how no one could understand him at the end of that trial in the game. He's constantly interrupted by Nagito and the others.

After the trial, Nagito gets a short song about his bizarre ideology. It's going to get a few reprises later. That's why it's short. (Also, Nagito's song gets cut short by Kaz and Nekomaru abducting him.)

Chapter Two:

Instead of initially not knowing where Nagito is, the group is told the next morning that Kaz and Neko tied him up in the old building, and instead of having Mahiru bring him breakfast just once, it's a thing she does every day. She also still helps Hiyoko with her kimono

There's a song about exploring the new island, basically goes over all of what's there, in accordance with who Hajime spoke to in those places in the game (so, Fuyuhiko gets a verse in the diner, Sonia in the library, etc.) Fuyuhiko is the only character who doesn't sing (yet); he hasn't sung at all, this whole time. Not in a meta way, where he's acknowledging that everyone else is singing; he just doesn't do it.

Akane's song happens here, because it's where she first starts training with Nekomaru. Fast-paced duet where he keeps trying to slow her down.

Monokuma's motive is simplified from a video game to just an envelope of photos.

Mahiru asks Hajime to feed Nagito for her one day because she has another thing to do. He does, and Nagito sings part of a reprise for his song from earlier, but Hajime walks out on it.

Kazuichi brings Hajime in on his plan to crash the girls' beach trip, they find the body. When they find the mask, Sonia gets a song that is superficially her explaining Sparkling Justice and really her getting to be open about her interest in serial killers; there's a lot of creepy lyrical dissonance and I'm picturing it to be like (extremely deep cut incoming) the song "Silver and Gold" from the musical 1619: When Destinies Collide, as far as the general sound and the casually grim lyrics.

Investigation happens, Nagito pops in (and depending on the tone of the musical, his first line when he shows up can be something like, "Hey guys, good news! I've been in everybody's cabin tracing the shape of their shoes!"). The trial happens. They sing through presenting the evidence, except Fuyuhiko still only talks. The reveals happen the same as in the game, and Fuyuhiko's first sung word is just a long cry of Peko's name. From Chapter 3 on, he's a singing character.

Okay, that's as far as I got. Might add more later.