the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.
capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.
now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.
and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.
and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.
and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".
it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"
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*dusts off account* *coughs*
My tumblr is pretty much defunct but I'm crossposting this one per request~
Art for part #6 of my absolute favorite StaticRadio fic series, 666: Live On Air! written by the amazing @prince-liest
Every new installment keeps destroying AND energizing me, but the hurt/comfort of this latest update fed me ESPECIALLY well😩💞
If you aren't doing it yet and you love the ship, GO READ 666!! It's droolworthy! It's emotional! It's kinky! It'll make you laugh one sec, rip your heart out the next! No excuses, you must give it a try at least!!
PS: If you're interested in more StaticRadio (or StaticDust) (or StaticRadioDust, perchance? >:3) art & threads from me, find me on twitter here!♥ (adults only)
PPS: This one is not a 666 fanart but I might as well plug it: I actually had the same galaxy brain idea as Prince and drew Vox manually keeping Al's heart beating post-Adam😈 (The way I gasped when this happened in 666 too!😩👏) Mild gore cw, but if you're curious, it's here.
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man laios and toshiro's/shuro's dynamic is incredibly compelling to me on multiple levels
when you look at them, you can see the cultural and personal barriers that drive almost every single aspect of their relationship, both positively and negatively. laios is incredibly outspoken and driven by his passions, which he expresses freely even in the face of annoyance and/or criticism- he's allowed to be as authentically himself as he pleases, and it's this drive that allows him and the others to survive as long as they have, especially due to the fact that these passions and interests are intertwined with his skills as a dungeon diver. toshiro, in contrast, is incredibly reserved, not only due to his eastern upbringing but also his status as nobility- a combo of cultures that both demand that one save face, to avoid conflict at any cost, even at the expense of one's own feelings and individuality. this, in turn, has made toshiro the perfect samurai, as he's politely-spoken, agreeable, and an honorable, skilled man. both are also incredibly devoted to falin on different levels, having come to accomplish the same mission of her rescue despite drifting apart from the party.
on the flipside, it's these same strengths that cause them to clash- laios is outspoken but unable to truly decipher the emotions of others, leading to a lot of false assumptions and frustration from those who interact with him. toshiro is stoic but to the point of complacency, leading to a aggressively neutral disposition that's ushered by the needs and wants of others, rather than himself. neither man truly knows where they stand with the people important to them in their lives, and hold the ones that they do know how they feel with a fierce admiration expressed in ways that aren't always traditional.
in the end, they both share a growing feeling of isolation from other people that comes to a head when they meet again in the depths of the dungeon, and they both have different ways of coping with the frustrations that arise, seeing the other as only the things they have seen face to face.
it's laios' ability to express himself emotionally without consequence that sparks jealousy in toshiro, leading to a physical fight born out of miscommunication and envy. while toshiro is a driving force in the conflict, it should be noted that the actual fight is started by laios, breaking the dam of indirect communication through force. nothing is more direct than a slap to the face, and it's only after they start hitting each other that toshiro's true feelings come to light.
however, at the end of it all, toshiro is the one who stops torturing himself, listening to laios and giving him the bell, allowing laios and his party entrance into his homeland should they need it, and ultimately giving him support in his mission to defeat the dungeon mage, albeit in his own way. despite it all, they're still good friends with a conflict that boiled over, but came out the other end with a slightly better understanding of each other. the fight was painful for both of them, but it was a necessity for their dynamic to improve, and for them to be made aware of their faults and improve as individuals as well.
but also, if you think about it, their dynamic is literally just this
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29. putting ear over their heart, for steddie 💕
please enjoy some domestic fluff w the barest sprinkling of angst (like a tiny smidgen, barely a paragraph)
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The apartment was quiet when Steve got in, back from lunch with Robin down at the cafe by her university.
It wasn't the kind of quiet Steve was used to, the kind that lurked in empty hallways. A dreadful, empty sort of quiet that sunk into your bones like water in the lungs of someone drowning.
This was a new sort of quiet: radio playing on the kitchen windowsill, the window by the couch left open with Eddie's ashtray tucked next to the cord for the blinds. Music and voices and engines from the street wafted in on the breeze, immediately dampened when Steve reached up and pulled the window back down with a thud.
It was a lived in sort of quiet. An Eddie's-either-not-home-or-he's-asleep-somewhere quiet.
Considering the window had been left open, Steve was betting on the asleep somewhere option.
Trying to stay quiet, Steve headed down the short hallway and pushed open their bedroom door. The blinds were open, and the bed was half made, the pillows left piled to one side with their cases folded on top like Eddie'd gotten distracted halfway through.
Steve snorted, fond, and stepped back into the hallway.
Their apartment wasn't big- two small bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen/living room combination with enough space for a dining table in between - so it wouldn't be hard to track his boyfriend down.
And it wasn't, Steve found him in the second-bedroom-turned-"office", stretched out in a sunbeam, like one of the stray cats he insisted on feeding.
He had one arm sorta stretched above his head, the other resting on his tummy as he snored into his armpit, guitar and notebook discarded to the side. The vacuum was in there too, and Steve had to step over it to get inside the room.
Apparently, Eddie had made a valiant attempt at cleaning while he'd been gone.
The thing is, when Eddie cleaned, he had to make a whole thing of it- turn it into one of his roleplaying games, with outfits and silly voices, or else he'd never actually get it done.
His usual version of a cleaning costume was to just keep his hair out of his face with a headband made out of a bandanna, folded into the cliched little triangle and all, and a long sleeved shirt so he could dramatically roll up his sleeves.
Today, he'd gone as far as to put on an old apron he'd accidentally stolen from a past job working at a deli. The duster he'd shoved in the front pocket was dangerously close to slipping out, only kept in place by the angle of Eddie's hip.
The thing is- Eddie was, like, a really deep sleeper. And he didn't tend to move much. And he was sort of just lying there, bandanna wrapped around the top of his head, hair splayed out under him, head tilted just enough to show off the long-healed scars in his cheek. And Steve was, much to his own dismay, a worrier.
And it had been a good 3 years since the spring of '86, and he could literally see Eddie's stomach rising and falling with each breath but-
But.
Feeling ridiculous, but knowing he'd just get more and more anxious until it became an actual problem, Steve sighed and carefully lowered himself into a crouch. He reached out, intending to shake Eddie awake, just to make sure he would, but paused as his fingers brushed fabric.
If he'd fallen asleep in the middle of the day, on the floor no less, then he probably needed it.
So, sticking his tongue out in a habit he'd definitely gotten from the man sleeping on the floor right now, Steve carefully moved the duster and the arm laying over Eddie's tummy and threw a leg over his hips.
He knee-walked backwards until he was hovering over his thighs instead, and then carefully laid down on top of him, turning his head so his ear was pressed against Eddie's sternum.
It took a second to settle, for the sound of shifting fabric to stop and then-
thu-thump. thu-thump. thu-thump.
He laid there for a little longer, just listening, just checking, until sun-warmed arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Steve didn't know if Eddie was fully awake, but he didn't say anything about waking up to Steve on top of him.
Instead he let out a long, pleased sigh. Dug his fingers into Steve's hair and gently scratched his scalp, movements slow and sleepy.
In a few minutes, Steve would sit up and ask Eddie what he was doing napping on the floor and Eddie will explain that he'd been cleaning, and then he'd gotten an idea for a song and he didn't want to forget it.
Then they'd get up, Steve hauling his boyfriend off the floor with dramatic grunts and groans like men twice their age, and finish cleaning the apartment together.
But for now, Steve just settled in a little more comfortably, listening to Eddie's heart beat.
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