#they give him FUN TIES

[snarkylinda]

Spencer Reid had such an awful posture because he was carrying the men's fashion on his back.

[speakofcompersion]

Key 'Tongue Tied' MV Teaser

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's the 6 month anniversary of this blog! Check out these cool bugs I found.

(EDIT: Check out this amazing fanart by thecornermushroom!)

Part 2 - Part 3

[fairsweetlonging]

accidentally read the entirety of book one and half of book two of scum villains self saving system because i didn't expect i'd enjoy it so much, who was gonna tell me svsss would be so much fun!!!! i mean the miscommunication trope is dialed up to 10000 here bc these boys can't get their stuff right and just say what they're thinking instead of sprinting straight past each other, but i like it.

also i can't be the only one whose stomach does flips when shen qianqiu does something nice or gentle for blackened!luo binghe and the system comes in with [character satisfaction points +100, congratulations!]

[flowerakatsuka]

couldn't get that lobotomy after work so i just drew some very self-indulgent kurokara to cope instead.

[starry-bi-sky]

Out of Context Danny Phantom Memes for a fic i haven't posted (yet)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Great Boopathon

Twilight

It had honestly been an accident, a truly sincere miscalculation. Sky tried to remember that Wolfie was Twilight. But sometimes, when the fluffy animal trotted into town, panting from exertion or cheer, Sky just immediately knelt in front of him with a sweet greeting and a gentle boop on the nose.

He didn't think it was possible for an animal to look so offended, but somehow Twilight managed it.

Sky

This was war.

Twilight huffed as he watched Sky sleep. The teenager was out cold, as per usual, curled into himself and covered in blankets. It was a little more unusual than his usual sleep position, in which literally anything was possible because he could fall asleep literally anywhere, but the boy's head cold had him shivering.

That didn't stop Twilight, though. He still remembered the boop. The completely humiliating and degrading gesture, the cute noise Sky made with it as he bapped Twilight's wolf nose gently with a smile on his face and a flush to his cheeks.

Sky moaned miserably, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Twilight swallowed, grabbing his resolve. He walked forward stealthily before laying on the ground, his canine nose stretching forward until it met Sky's own congested one. Then his tail swished back and forth, dusting leaves off the earth.

Sky scrunched his nose in response, tickled by the wetness of it, before he opened his eyes to see a snout. He yelped, trapped in his blankets, and Twilight pounced on him, bapping him with a paw and pinning him in place as he laughed and tried to fight.

Abel

"There's no way you can do it!"

Link glared defiantly in response. He would do this, and there was no stopping him. He would always rise to a challenge. He couldn't afford to fail, he couldn't afford to lose the faith of those who believed in him.

He was stealthier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He could pass for a Sheikah, he was certain. His heart pounded in his chest, anxiety trying but failing to whittle away at his resolve. His naysayer watched with bated breath.

The greatest challenge, of course, were the floorboards. There were some that creaked. It would be absolutely catastrophic if his foe heard his approach. Carefully, Link tried to remember which boards creaked the most, settling his bare feet with such care to distribute his weight properly.

When he finally reached the bed, he nearly failed in his mission. His enemy stirred, almost awakening, but he managed to avoid disaster. Finally, his objective in sight, the Hero of Hyrule leapt, landing on his prey with a mighty hyah.

Abel nearly jumped out of his skin as he was startled awake before getting slammed in the face with a pillow.

"I told you I could do it!" Link yelled at the stairway where his sister, Lyra, was hiding.

Daruk

The leader of the Gorons had many precious memories to make him smile when he was more contemplative in the evenings. Perhaps his favorite, though, was when the Champions met his child, who had been so delighted to meet them that he'd rolled over Revali's toes and crashed into Link's knees, knocking the Hylian over. It had been a fun day in general, but the little boop his boy had given him when he picked him up had been the most delightful part.

It was usually what Daruk would do for the child before bedtime; to have such a simple gesture reciprocated brought him more joy than he could ever articulate.

Shadow Link

He had nearly succeeded in getting away from the damn gloom hands, but his stamina had run out. When they'd caught up to him, he could practically sense the displeasure radiating off them, and his insides froze at the sight of them.

Then one of the hands leaned over and booped him on the nose, making him yelp, before the others grabbed him and teleported him through the gloom back to Ganondorf's location.

"Was that really necessary?" Link grumbled, holding his nose as if it had been burned.

"Yes," the demon king replied without hesitation as he snatched him by his tunic and plopped him beside him. "Now rest."

Mystery Link

Link wasn't sure how it happened, but being completely smothered by his dog was not how he wanted to start his mornings. Nevertheless, it was how Friend decided to be his new morning alarm, slapping his face with a paw as a warning before laying her whole head over him and asphyxiating him.

By the fifth morning, he started wrestling her in response, and she always got so excited about it that she would spend the next few minutes zooming all over the forest, tail tucked and legs flailing in all directions.

Wind

Twilight was acting weird.

Wind was a little worried. After all, he'd only just recovered from his injury recently. Although the sailor had the utmost faith in the elder Hero's abilities, he couldn't help but watch him and see what was up. This was a matter of great importance, and only Wind could truly understand as the others seemed completely oblivious.

He made several observations while the others were pointlessly distracted. Twilight's eyes were wary, looking everywhere as if he were expecting an attack. Wind knew for certain that the rancher hadn't been patrolling because Time and Wild wouldn't allow for it quite yet. But no one else was on edge. It was possible Twilight just felt inadequate or useless, as he was typically the one who tried to shoulder a great deal of responsibility.

Wind moved closer to his dear friend, curious. He was going to ask him outright if he kept this behavior up, but--

Twilight gasped, grabbing Wind around the ribs and holding him like a shield in front of his body, and Wind yelped as Sky poked his nose.

"Hey!" Sky snapped. "No cheating!"

"There are no rules in this war!" Twilight huffed back. Then he gave Wind a squeeze against his torso as a compensatory hug. "Sorry about that, little pirate."

"Ha! Sorry? Let me go, I'll avenge you!" Wind happily offered, already wiggling out of his grip as Sky fled.

Time

"This is getting out of hand," Time said severely, hands on his hips. "And is unbefitting of a Hero."

Twilight looked extremely schooled. If he were in his wolf form, he probably would have his tail between his legs, ears peeled back. Time did not feel guilty in the slightest about it. The camp was in utter disarray, supplies strewn everywhere as Twi's wolf form had utterly destroyed the place and barreled over most of the heroes while he'd tried to escape Sky's little winged mechanical booping machine and Wind's exuberant screams.

Unlike Twilight, Sky looked nearly indifferent, but somehow he managed to convert his expression to apologetic when Time glared at him. Wind, however, was unrepentant.

And giggling.

Time was going to lecture him further when the reason for Wind's laughter dropped out of the nearest tree, landing on Time's shoulders and booping him on the nose.

Sky and Wind cheered as Wild scrambled off Time and fled into the forest, giggling all the way.

[trickstarbrave]

VIVI!

i love him. his story is so sad and so sweet and bghrebghgb i can't be normal about him i'm sorry. he's so cute and i love him

vivi is from @mulberrycafe and he has my heart. so here's vivi with some lotuses dreaming away peacefully...

(if he looks like vivec that's because he's vivec's kinda sorta reincarnation)

he was a lot of fun to draw! minus the. lotuses and water and everything. but HE turned out good so that's all that matters

[veveisveryuncool]

get in losers we're going brush shopping in patch land

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Hold on something's just hit me.

If everyone in the Plex were to believe that Gregory dropped Cassie at the end of Ruin to keep himself from being found, whether he did it or not, wouldn't that make Roxy to one most able to understand him?

As Mimic's guard dog, surely she would know the lengths you have to go through to keep that fucker trapped. A whole team of Raceway construction workers went straight to their deaths down there. Roxy won't let the Raceway be repaired and re-opened in order to keep people safe. She's probably been able to see Mimic and its victims through the floor this entire time, she knows what it can do and what it's done, even if she doesn't know the full extent of it.

She's willing to sacrifice her Raceway and Salon to keep people from finding Mimic. Her pride and joys, basically her whole reason for being built in the first place. They're not worth the risk to her.

Whether Gregory sacrificed Cassie to keep Mimic trapped or not, surely Roxy would realise some sort of similarity. She may think doing that to Cassie was too far, she may think he's a monster for even considering it and she may feel as though nothing could justify what he did... But there's a part of her that gets it. The absolute terror that comes at the slightest possibility that Mimic could escape. She gets that sacrifices have to made, fuck she's made those sacrifices herself. She would never have sacrificed someone for this, that's why she ran headfirst at Mimic instead of just sealing the exits again, but there could be that tiny little part of her that feels the need to constantly to remind her that Gregory was trying to do the same thing she was.

The key difference here, is that if Gregory had done it, it would fall in line with almost everything else we've seen him do. The sacrifices he makes, are of other people, and not himself. He sacrificed Roxy, Chica and Monty to upgrade Freddy for his safety and possibly the safety of Vanessa. If he also dropped Cassie, then he's once again sacrificing someone else for the sake of his own safety. Not like he has that much else to lose, but I'm drawing comparisons here.

Roxy on the other hand, sacrifices herself. She sacrificed her Raceway and her Salon for the benefit of both herself and others. Unlike Gregory finding himself in a hopeless situation and hurting others to get out of it, Roxy was given this job (probably) and chose to give up what little she has in the world to keep the situation from happening. Even when Cassie deactivates her and ends up face to face with Mimic, Roxy jumps straight at it to buy her time to escape which could have easily killed her.

So now you have Roxy, who unfortunately does understand Gregory's choice to drop Cassie (if she believes he did it which yeah she probably does) but has absolutely no sympathy for him. She couldn't care less about him. There's potentially a fearful little voice in her head that she's the same as Gregory that fuels her anger towards him even more. She hasn't ever sacrificed someone else to keep the Mimic at bay and she's been doing it for fuck knows how long, what gives Gregory a free pass? Maybe if he hadn't stolen her fucking eyes she would have been able to stop the whole thing from getting that far anyway!

I'm not saying this to frame Gregory as a villain or anything. I don't think he dropped Cassie and I still think it was entirely Freddy's fault for what happened to the others in SB. I just think this is interesting from a character stand point. The one person that could understand the choices they've made to keep Mimic from escaping is each other, but they're both too hateful of each other for it to affect anything... If they were ever to settle their differences, I think it would have to start here. The only common ground they share, is the one thing no one else does.

But Gregory didn't even fucking do it so I bet that goes well lmao

[pigtailedgirl]

Due South and a Canadian White Girl North-ish

I'm so nervous. Addition: Perhaps some trigger warning for abuse and illness talk?

So I read this great Due South fanfic.

BLESSED

I think it's going in my top ten. And I have a bunch I like that deal in the same theme. In Fraser's fit of himself in the city versus northern Canada and how he finds something in the contrasts.

Still this fanfic, though it does a neat re-examine overall, and others, have an image I guess that is put out by Fraser, by the narrative, of Canada that just does not work for me.

EXAMPLE

***

"Think about being somewhere else," Cleve told him as the strings began to vibrate again. "Anywhere but here."

And he did. Where did he want to be? Anywhere but here. Yes, Cleve had indeed answered the question for him.

The MacKenzie River, strong and swift, slicing through the spruce and pine, cutting a path between the snowcapped mountains.

The frozen, inhospitable Beaufort Sea, where a man could see his own breath turn to ice on the air and blow back to his face, clinging crystals of ice on his skin and lashes.

The mighty forests of tamarack and poplar that covered the western slope of the coastal mountain ranges. The warm, gentle breezes of heady lodgepole pine scent. The soft hiss and crackle of campfire, mellowed by a handful of cedar bark.

"There you go," Cleve decided at last in a quiet, satisfied voice.

Ben smiled until his face hurt, not quiet ready to open his eyes and let go his vision just yet. The strings felt good, like the strips of cedar bark he had imagined for the fire, the neck of the guitar a more than adequate rendering of the canoe paddle the MacKenzie demanded. The smooth, time worn wood of the box pressed into his belly, a body that complemented his, perfect in its unyieldingness, yet matching his every bend and twist.

Stella the True.

Ben would have given her another name.

His eyes opened then, noticing first how the world seemed to have blurred in more ways than one, and that the smile had faded away as the memories had faded in upon him. The world was only blurry for a few seconds more, until he realized that once he blinked the beginnings of tears from his eyes, the world became amazingly clear. So much became amazingly clear.

"Don't give up on yourself, son," Cleve Abernathy's voice came from somewhere very, very far away. Fraser gave his saturated eyes to the man who had spoken.

***

"Where I come from, people help one another. If one goes without, then all go without equally, so that everyone has a chance. You don't let your neighbor's coal run out in January. You don't let their stomachs go empty when your kill is plenty. When their children don't return from the trail, you go looking for them. That's just the way it is."

***

It's beautifully written, but feels wrong to me. Feels like lies to my lived experiences. Being from a small place like Fraser, this is a beautiful sentiment, and not at all true to it's realities.

When Fraser, Due South's narrative and comedy, and fandom view the otherness of the wilderness or northern Canada, make big deals to study it, never mind just mark Canada different in broad... It feels othering. Othering in a way I think is really important to how Fraser doesn't fit in if he's got this perspective too.

I've grown with stories about people and family who lived the same kind of lives as the Fraser family. In modern ways my home here still is like this. I even lived some like this and I'm baby in comparison.

Remote and isolated. Lots of nature to be in. Law, education and medicine as tiers in the community that are mostly outsiders to the community either brought in short-term or recurring.

Even those who live here permanently now, have founded themselves career wise, and have to, going away to do it or having been born and raised elsewhere. Christ, we have to basically leave after high-school more than 1000km away. HAVE TO.

And there is a definite disconnect between this group who are outsiders and the what I would call settled persons in the emotional connection to the place and town and the ability to fit in.

If it's a truism to me, this idea of grand north, natural beauty or isolation in a small town, with the people, to get in touch with an emotional growth is the biggest lie I have ever witnessed done by people to themselves. And this is an idealism of outsiders. You don't come out into isolation or live it to get NEW emotional needs met. You don't grow yourself thinking this is something special or the true way or will fix you.

Those that say living like this is a personal spiritual ride are:

1. High on their own supply as it were, aka, either tapping what they had dormant before or pretending.

2. Doing so off the backs of those who just don't think too much about it and are where and what they are.

If I had a dollar for every doctor or therapist I met who came here and were enamored by the place, the seas and freedoms and kind people and opportunities in solitude, expected it to change the people here and them, and then ran wild because they were always dumbasses, or took advantage, or after a year of seeing it day to day still wouldn't or didn't understand how to live with it and ran or got burnt out...RICH.

Because the truth is that small communities and remoteness don't make special or perfect people or places. We aren't magic, we aren't even that different, we just face a different or smaller reality.

I'm struck by the story One Good Man paints of Fraser's grandmother, who faced early trauma, and to me tells a reality you maybe don't want to embrace fully but should reflect on before concluding the nature of life here. A young woman who saw her town burn, who saved some of the children in it, but watched the others and adults die and was also horribly physically and probably emotionally scarred by it. Who only had an idea, and with it, bravery in the face of that moment, and after the strength to hang on as her backbone tip of surviving. Any wonder then, the tough it attitude and gift of wisdom was maybe her main survival and emotional mantra. That what tied her there to keep trying to give knowledge to people and how she pushed that above emotion on her grandson was this.

I think canon does a good job of highlighting an undercurrent of why Fraser and family still didn't fit in and why Fraser and Due South is a story of growth as a person and finding his home/community is going outside. His emotional needs weren't here. That's alright to find elsewhere when you need it.

@juniperpomegranate made a really great point of difference of Fraser's north, so often idealized in show or fic, and how it isn't actually like a town. It's not imagined or filled or understood in the reality of a community. Which is hella important. Because your community and relationships is how you really fit in a place like that or in my home.

And that's people. People to connect to. People who aren't wildly different. Experiences only seem wild to outsiders. Perfection or an image of better peeps is only lauded to cover in my opinion.

We face hardships and issues. We don't face them mythically. Nature is pretty and it requires work and understanding of it, learned only from experience and listening or knowing others who have, to survive and thrive in.

The reason we have outsider law or medicine or education come in is...

Well it can be real fun when the town is faced with say influenza and has no resources, or knowledge about it. Where you have to be cajoled to get immunized by your sister dressing up in the nurse's coat and leaving, to trick you into coming out of hiding. Where Dad tells stories of my great-grandma who plastered everyone with coal oil for cures as the rock of the town. Or where, when you have criminal stuff or domestic violence or mental illness and you can't treat or stop. A woman who hurt her family for decades because she was sadly untreated and unknown Schizophrenic. When another woman my dad's age wrote of her harrowing experience of childhood, of her mom dying from cancer and her father putting her to work as a teenage girl to care for the siblings and home, and then not providing any of his income or the support people gave him for them, until she and her siblings were literally found starving. Cause he fucked off to the neighbors. Cause the whole town knew it was happening, but there was no alternative, this was just their monetary and work survival versus that family and that family's lack of social capital paired with no place to go. Where solution was when law finally came in an forcefully moved the minor kids to different fosters in villages 100s of kilometers away, this was just a daily continuation of life though for most here.

See law, as external resource, can't even do much beyond come in twice a year and judge people. Punishment for crimes is more social than moral and depends on taking a person out of the community most times. Bob Fraser, Mounties and cops who ship around to different spots, if they are good get then respect sure, but they were and always have to stay detached to not bias too. It's a hard one. It's you can have impact and respect, for example the priest use to come a couple times a year and get the good dishes out for him, but you don't build the emotional connection of say staying for the weddings after-parties of music and dancing all night. Of people crossing islands to visit each other at the end of weeks' work.

In this vein I'm not surprised Bob had a great reputation and a lot of "friends" he didn't know.

And education. Where it's people come to knowledge at you, or knowledge from you. Where it's students come to study you like you are a tropical native of the 18th century. Write their papers and go back and take your history and skills to sell and forget the here left behind. Or come dodging the drafts of the States. All our stories or archives are in a "local" museum we can't even get to without a plane ticket yo. Or again those who come to give wisdom like they are the holders and we are heathen plebs. With maybe a one in ten being someone or something honest or decent. Though I'm a little bias here. My mom was a teacher who came here in the 70s and spent her whole life teaching grade school. Literal one room school house start. Who met and married and stayed with my Dad here. Some people do catch. Some, I think like maybe the example of Fraser's grandma, which I have soft feeling for probably because of this, just really want to impart shared knowledge and get happiness from seeing it grow and having that personal shot to help it. In a small community that seed growing outwards, to see it, is freaking awesome. But key is shared. You got to learn from too.

Finally, small isolated communities need and foster their connection through the people. Who you know. How you are all related. The meme of does everybody know everyone in Canada hits lol. But that's got the inverse too. There is no privacy. Loners be seen and judged. Again, social fit and capital being supreme.

That's why the nature loner or lover is myth too. Drop you off on a pretty snow covered lake. Pretty yes, magical and just for you, no. You still need the community knowledge to know where the fish, which direction is inland or sea, where is best shelter, where is Indians in the country to help you trap, when does the supplies boats and airdrops come. Nothing is done alone okay, trust me on this. You go out to snowshoe alone on a clear day, and weather strikes and you die.

I guess my point I keep trying to rope back into is maybe the experience or place or people sound different, or magic, but it's superficial. It's no different than how stories of history or cities sound to some. Emotionally I think we run the same. I think the true beauty is in seeing that reality. That you can't be the best stuck in an unreality or hiding from finding your fit. And again the true charm of Due South and Fraser, is his going south grows himself to see it. The show gets us to play and have fun seeing it.

And that the best of people or place, Canada or States, small town or city, outsider or no...is accepting and acknowledging that difference and sameness is the way to grow. Is the best beauty.

It's how my community did grow out of most of it's struggles imo, and hopes to go further I tell ya.

So here are my recs on the wonder of difference and sameness in Due South. Again like the fic above, can't rec enough.

Here are a small sampler of finding yourself near and away.

Stars, I Have Seen Them Fall (squidge.org)

Smaller Gods - arrow (esteefee) - due South [Archive of Our Own]

Our Dancing Days - sdwolfpup - due South [Archive of Our Own]

Also, does anyone have a link to an old ds flashfic of Fraser wandering Chicago in a power outage? I loved that one.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Vegetta heard that some members of the server are scared of him and he was like "Why? I'm not even a tryhard, I was the last person to get slime armor" and I'm like... Vegetta people are already scared of you, WHY would you respond to that with "But this isn't even 1% of my true power''

[sun-marie]

i keep seeing ppl say stuff like "finally a DA game I won't have to mod just to get good hair" and I feel like a werido bc i will def still be trying to mod their hairstyles bc modding is fun 😶

[villainsidestep]

oh fawn we are really in it now

[todayisafridaynight]

Religiously i think about one of my twitter mutuals pointing out how aoki's design is subtly asymmetrical while ichiban is more symmetrical

when i think of it, masato's design is fairly symmetrical as well isnt it.....

[scoliosisgoblin]

Peter and Jay doodles feat. T.K. and Lucy (headcanons for what I think they'd look like as humans.. gonna change their designs though)