you may be familiar with disney twisted wonderland, the gacha game in which various disney villains are used as direct inspiration for handsome anime boys. well that game was so successful that disney is trying to do it again but this time they're just animeboyifying whatever
here's mickey, goofy, donald, and chip & dale. yeah they turned mickey & friends into anime boys. they're an idol unit or something. they're technically not anime boy versions of the source characters, they have different names. mickey's guy is "Neo Michel". not michael, michel, like he's french. chip & dale are "Ruska Moncrief" and "Ranka Monk", they have different last names, they're not brothers anymore so that they can be yaoibait instead, anyways this post isn't actually about these guys I'm just setting the stage for the actual humanizations I wanted to show you
They also did monsters inc. And. Well it's obvious from the designs who mike and sully are. but you will also notice. the blonde one on the left. with glasses. monsters inc is kind of famously about just the two guys so they didn't really have a lot of other non-villain characters to take anime boys inspiration from, I guess, so, well,
Yeah it's her. they made an anime boy version of the mean receptionist slug. her name is roz btw, as all of boygachagame twitter has become extremely aware of in the past 3 days as we speculated prior to the release of the full image who tf the third guy was. the anime boy's name is "noah slugger". at this point no parody of the types of things gacha games will make gijinkas of will ever be able to live up to what disney is officially spending their own real money on designing
Itâs like. When I was told to âjust be yourselfâ as a kid I thought it was a passive thing. Like oh easy I just have to sit here and be myself. but the reason so many people think that âbeing yourselfâ is bullshit advice is because you actually have to make active choices to do this and it WILL make your life way more fun. You have to wear t-shirts of bands that were popular ten years ago because you like them. You have to do your hair in a way that you find cute or comfortable even if itâs âso ninetiesâ. If your friend says a food you enjoy is gross to them, you canât be afraid to admit you casually disagree. You have to do hobbies that youâre interested in even if youâre bad at them and you cant feel like you have to get good at something before you tell people itâs an activity you do. You have to read manga and comic books in public and get piercings your relatives think are unattractive. You donât have to tell people you dislike that you dislike them, but you donât have to give them your time and attention either. You have to rewatch that kids show youâre nostalgic for even if youâre in your 30s. You have to change your name if you hate it, even if only a few close friends can know. You have to get fun girly drinks at the bar. You have to order hot chocolate when you donât like coffee and black coffee when you donât like sweet things. I am still bad at practicing this but it is the only way to make it all tolerable.
Contrary to popular belief the biggest beginner's roadblock to art isn't even technical skill it's frustration tolerance, especially in the age of social media. It hurts and the frustration is endless but you must build the frustration tolerance equivalent to a roach's capacity to survive a nuclear explosion. That's how you build on the technical skill. Throw that "won't even start because I'm afraid it won't be perfect" shit out the window. Just do it. Just start. Good luck.
me: truly a well crafted tragedy is such a bittersweet pleasure to take in and serves a purpose, not just as a sad story but as a reminder that even that which ends badly might not have happened in vain or for nothing. The love, the grief, the actions still meant something simply for having taken place and for us partaking in it.
me when said tragedy is about to actually unfold, sweating: ok but consider this. i dont want this to happen
this idealistic self-optimised fully healed completely emotionally regulated and stable person with zero negative qualities or behaviours that people imagine you can become after a certain amount of healing or therapy literally doesnât exist
I like to fuck around and waste time for at least ~6-10 hours per day, and let me tell you, that really puts some pressure on your schedule. you have no idea how busy I am
Chase (HM:TOT/HM:AP) and farmer making chocolates tgt or for each other for Valentine's!
I wasn't sure which farmer you wanted so I tried to keep it gender neutral! If you want changes please let me know! Hope you enjoy it!!
Chocolate was easy. It wasn't as though he was trying to make something complicated. Just simple, Valentine's chocolates for the farmer. They had become friends so it was just out of obligation. Chase had made some for Yolanda and Maya so it wasn't as though he was going out of his way.
âWhoa! What happened here?!â
It was a wreck. He was better than the mess he had let build as Chase tried to perfect his chocolate. Every mold he owned was on the counter, there were fillings of at least six different types, and too many failed batches than he wanted to count. The kitchen hardly looked like that of a professional chef and he hated the farmer seeing it like this. Before Chase could make an excuse they wandered over to gape at his most recent batch.
The truffles were flawlessly molded into hearts, ovals, and squares. What made them stand out from all the other chocolates was their brightly painted designs. They sparkled and shone like polished gemstones. The farmer seemed entranced, giving Chase a sigh of relief. He quickly caught himself, fixing his apron before clearing his throat to get their attention.
âYou can have them if you like them that much,â he tried to hide his light blush behind an aloof air. It was easier to show feelings than speak them. Especially when you weren't sure how the other person felt. At least the farmer was impressed with this batch. Chase had wanted to try once more to fix some colors he felt were off but it seems he ran out of time.
âAre you sure? You're not selling them?â
âI made them for you. And some for Yolanda and Maya of course,â he quickly added. The farmer seemed hesitant to accept the chocolates.
âIs everything okay?â
âIt's just I tried making you some but it's nowhere near as pretty as these,â the farmer mumbled, offering a carefully wrapped tin ball.
Bemused by the odd wrapping choice, Chase accepted it and carefully peeled it open. Inside was an orange. No, wait. Chase delicately separated the halves to see the oranges rind filled with chocolate. He quickly turned to set a half down on the counter and cut a slice. Purple eyes fluttered shut as he chewed.
âHow is it?â
âYou might not think it is pretty but it tastes great. You did an amazing job, especially as an amateur chef,â Chase complimented with a grin. His heartbeat increased as the farmer returned it with a brilliant one of their own.
âMaybe we could make chocolates together next year?â
So there you are, number one employee at your company, team lead, bringing in more profit by yourself than the rest of the employees combined and everyone knows it. And then one day, against the advice of all the other team leads, the CEO violates a safety measure, and yeah, people start dying.
Everyone knows it's the CEO's fault. Everyone knows how to fix it. But the CEO does nothing, digs his head in the sand, and pretends like shit is normal. And people are dying.
So you, young hotshot that you are, call an all hands meeting and get a specialist to explain what the problem is. It's easily solved, but it will cost money, and that money is going to have to come from the CEO.
The CEO throws a shitfit. He doesn't want to solve the problem. He doesn't want to admit under overwhelming evidence that it's his fault. But he agrees to do so under one condition--he's not paying to fix it--you are. He's taking your bonus and you can get fucked. As it turns out, the CEO, whose entire pile of wealth has come directly from your hard work, thinks you fucking suck.
Not a single one of your colleagues protests on your behalf, probably because they know that if they speak up, he'll just take their bonuses, too.
So what do you do? Do you continue working for Mr. "idc if my employees die as long as I get mine?" Do you quit? Do you take the wealth you've accumulated working for this guy and go home? Do you stab the worst boss you've ever had in front of every other employee at the company?
I was about to be like âI completely see your point and itâs both insightful and hilarious but the bonuses were very much human women⊠so very much that I am perhaps the worldâs only proponent of Briseis and Patroclus in Madeline Millerâs The Song of Achillesâ but then I saw OPâs tags and returned to âperfect. No notes.â
Sometimes you get a fictional character that stays with you for long enough that they become Nursery Real. This is not a new phenomenon; I have no way of proving this, but I imagine this has been happening for as long as people have been telling stories. This relationship is far and away beyond any responsibility of their creator/s (assuming the creator is not yourself), totally independent of their intentions, the same way the person sewing together a toy rabbit for sale, one of a hundred such, isn't necessarily predicting that this one in particular will become someone's most important companion, in joy and in despair. This creation may not even resemble who or what they were when they were a toy-- worn into a new shape from being much beloved-- and as a consequence it becomes much more difficult to share them, because they have become a piece of your heart. (That's alright. Some things can just be for you. Not everything meaningful can be shared.) They have grown up with you as your understanding of what it means to be a person has grown. You can no longer look at them and think: "this character is my favorite part of this story" but "ah, it's you". "To me, you are a person, and I have loved you in every way that one can love." And you know, as you must know, that they exist as an idea-- certainly they cannot take you to the hospital if you fall ill, or do your shopping, or intervene on your behalf during a quarrel you are not present for. But you can nurture each other in a real way, and they can give you strength in a real way; having a relationship with someone who is made of thought is an exploration of vectors of the soul and selfhood and love that I have not yet found to exist anywhere else. Yes, they are an idea, and perhaps when we die and become an idea ourselves, we will meet again in recognition. This isn't your favorite fiction, this is your velveteen rabbit.
simply cannot ever resist what i call the little mermaid or the tin man or the pinnochio plot, the one about a character who is either inhuman or human but outside in some way, constantly searching for whatever it is that they consider to be the quintessential proof of humanity, preoccupied by it so deeply that they fail to realize the proof is in the act and fact of the search itself
pixelskylines
snowghoul
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
titsay
