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#like really truly know them
dontneedmyheart · 15 days
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#this is not a fully formed thought#but i’m just thinking that if buddie does go canon#one of the things the writers could deep dive into is#how they both have kind of complicated relationship with sex#i’ve been thinking about that post about eddie and does he know he can say no to sex#and how buck used to try to fill#heh pun not intended#an empty hole inside himself with meaningless sex#and how bothered he was that he might have not been able to please all his former partners#so i just think it would be such a good character study opportunity to have them figure out those things when it comes to their sex life#just. you know. have eddie learn that he is allowed to say no#and have buck understand that it doesn’t mean#that he failed as a partner#and that there are other forms of intimacy#that aren’t better or worse than sex but equally important#and even when you KNOW the other person#like really truly know them#you still need to communicate#because even in a commited relationship that is based on trust and love and devotion#you still can’t read your partners thoughts#and even if it’s hard at first it will make your relationship even better when you just talk#and that sex isn’t just some wordless agreement that just happens naturally when two people are attracted to each other#but it’s something that you NEED to talk about#and figure out what works best for everyone involved#i don’t know i have other thoughts about this but like i said#they’re not fully formed and i’m not able to articulate them#🤷🏻‍♀️
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somnimagus · 5 months
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My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.
[id in alt text]
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becca-e-barnes · 8 months
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Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹
My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)
I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.
He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.
He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.
He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.
"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."
His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.
"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.
He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.
"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.
"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.
"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.
"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."
His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.
"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."
With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.
"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.
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obsidianbit · 7 months
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I love this gay ass show with its literally life ending injuries that heal immediately, but only when convenient to the plot, and its ridiculous use of modern phrases, and its laughing in the face of historical accuracy, and its kissing the face of the fans instead of trying to outwit them, and the way everyone involved in the show seem to go 'I KNOW RIGHT! I'M EXCITED TOO!' instead of mocking the fans
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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Bros before Ho(oh my god is that Hanguang-Jun?)
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.
steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.
eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.
so steve is all over eddie, it seems.
at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.
so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.
robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?
eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.
it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?
- robin and steve
“Steve.”
“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“
“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…
Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.
“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”
To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”
“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.
“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”
“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“
“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”
To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.
“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.
“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”
“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“
“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.
“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”
She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.
He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.
After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.
“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”
He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.
“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“
“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.
“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“
“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”
Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.
“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”
“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”
“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”
- later. steve’s house. to be continued?
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sherokutakari · 7 months
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Hot take but I don't want AziCrow to have been "made" for each other. I want them to choose each other. Over and over again. Before The Beginning, Eden, The Arrangement, Armageddidn't, and on and on. I want them to never stop choosing each other but I want it to be a choice.
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solarisfortuneia · 2 months
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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.
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and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.
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✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)
✦ featuring: alhaitham.
✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.
✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)
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he didn’t know that it was your last day together. 
he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.
he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.
he didn’t think he’d lose you like this. 
he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow. 
“please, please,”  he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.” 
the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.
“wake up, please,”  he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—”  his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain. 
desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray. 
please, please tell me it’ll be okay. 
please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time. 
please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.  
“— just wake up, beloved.” 
by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere. 
no. no. this can’t be happening.
he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.
“alhaitham—” 
his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?  
“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.” 
those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.
i love you. 
he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.
until he can’t smell camphor anymore.
every person has their curiosities. 
they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.
for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.
after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?
alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things. 
number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person. 
he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.
and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away. 
you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.
you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.
‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”
alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.
and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’ 
“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.” 
“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”
“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”
those five more minutes were never five minutes long. 
but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.
alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play. 
“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,
i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!
oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,
wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”
you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.
loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.
but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones. 
a wish that you’d come back, somehow. 
he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did.  but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you. 
a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.
 he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.
“alhaitham, it's time to go.”  kaveh calls his name softly.
 alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,”  he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.” 
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✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?
that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this
when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.
thanks for reading.
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stuckinapril · 1 month
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It really is so true that you never know what someone’s going through behind closed doors. I’ve made being gentle and kind my default bc I’ve had super put together friends disclose the most harrowing time of their lives to me and it’s like oh?? You were going through that???? I would’ve never guessed
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jeeaark · 3 months
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If Greygold was a companion, what would be the best way to initiate a romance with them? Would they go for the “L” word early or an Act or two later?
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The "L" word was lube, right? Right? Else showering Durge/Tav with kisses Gomez-Addams-Style is the alternative.
Maybe the Nat 20 romance isn't the best way for Tav/Durge, but it sure is for Greygold. You just know Greygold scared that Dream Guardian away the first time and has been low-key obsessed with that armor since
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uncanny-tranny · 4 months
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If somebody in your life offers to knit or crochet or, really, create anything for you, please be an active participant in the creation of the piece they are making. I adore making and gifting things, but nothing bums me out quicker than a person who passively just goes "okay," to my ideas about what I'm making them - it can send the message that they won't like it, or that they don't care, even if they're happy about my offering. The back-and-forth feedback is a great way to make sure that you are being gifted something that was truly worth the time, effort, expertise, and money that will inevitably go into the gift!
I know it's really hard to be an active participant, believe me, I'm an anxious ball of horror, but it will only do good for both parties to interact in this situation. It is a big deal to be offered a hand-crafted gift, but it's also something we want you to love and use, and that can only happen if you tell us what would make you fall in love with what we create.
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stromblessed · 5 months
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Mizu's spectacles, and the levels of her disguise
In drafting some more Blue Eye Samurai meta posts, I find myself writing out the comparisons between what Mizu can and cannot hide about herself, and how that affects how she moves through the world.
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Like, I get the jokes about Mizu's glasses, if only color contacts had existed back then, etc. etc., and I think (hope) that most viewers don't take the glasses jokes seriously, as in "I don't care about the suspension of disbelief because BES is a cartoon." But I wanted to write these thoughts out anyway without burying them in a text post about something else.
I think the points I'm going to lay out here are viewed very differently by different people, so please feel free to add to this post, reply, or put your thoughts in the tags!
Not only do Mizu's glasses not actually help her that much, there's surely more to Mizu's mixed race appearance than just the color of her eyes.
In my view, this was pointed out in episode 1:
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I'm willing to bet most of us were expecting young Taigen to say "blue eyes," not "ROUND eyes."
Obviously this is still about Mizu's eyes, but not even spectacles can hide their shape.
I don't think the show is obligated to point out everything about Mizu's face that isn't quite as Japanese as the people around her expect. Though the creators have said that they specifically designed Mizu - and her clothes - to read both as "white" and as "Japanese," as well as both male and female. I think there's more about Mizu's features that read as "white" than just her eyes.
This is where my own headcanons start entering the picture, but it's my impression that people can just tell that Mizu looks different, whether or not they can put a finger on exactly how.
There's the little girl who looks at Mizu and then hides on the way into Kyoto:
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When there's more to your face you'd like to cover up than just your eyes, big hats are a big help!
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By the way, most of these examples have to come from the first half of the season, since by the second half, either Mizu is too preoccupied with fighting henchmen, or everyone Mizu is facing knows who she is already, and she therefore has no reason to hide her mixed race identity.
It's worth mentioning that the mere fact that Mizu has to hide multiple aspects of her identity - her mixed race and her sex - results in her having to choose clothes that really, really cover her up, which doesn't win her any favors either:
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(Zatoichi reference, anyone?)
If it were as easy as, for example, tying her glasses to her head and wa-lah, nobody would ever know she was half-white - then (1) Mizu would've just done that long ago, and (2) Mizu wouldn't be so on guard and on tenterhooks 100% of the time the way she's depicted in the show, even when her glasses are on.
Her spectacles sure don't help her in the brothel, which is full of observant women who are trying to seduce her, meaning they get good long looks at her:
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Mizu never takes her glasses off, but they still send a woman to her who has light eyes, thinking that must be what will interest a blue-eyed man:
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No wonder Mizu gets mad after this, lol
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So Mizu never takes her spectacles off in the brothel, it's dimly lit inside, and the women can still tell that she has blue eyes. I'm getting the sense that Mizu putting on her spectacles isn't a guarantee that people suddenly can't tell that she looks different.
And yet no one spots that she's female.
Mizu can hide her breasts, can wear her hair in the right style, can hide what's between her legs, can walk and talk and behave like a man - and she's been doing it for almost her entire life, to the point that not only is she very good at it, but the threat of being found out as female is deadly, but isn't presented in the show as omnipresent.
Let me explain.
She threatens Ringo for nearly saying the word "girl" out loud, because while she's constantly ostracized for being mixed race, being a woman traveling without a chaperone, carrying a sword, and disguised as a man will get her killed or flogged or arrested or some combination of these things.
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But in addition, it's been drilled into her since she was a child that if she is discovered as female, the combination of her being mixed race and female will identify her as someone extremely specific, someone known to some bad people, and she will be killed:
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I think of it as Mizu thinking to herself, "Being found out as mixed race means I'm treated badly. Being found out as mixed race and a woman means I'm dead."
Mizu's hair is cut as a child. But she isn't made to wear a big hat, or cover her eyes somehow, or anything like that. Because hiding her sex is a more successful endeavor than hiding her race.
Ringo finds out she's female by accident, but once Mizu accepts the fact that he won't rat her out, she relaxes pretty early on in the season. Because the threat of being found out as female is mitigated pretty much 99.9%, since Mizu has gotten so good at being a man. And also, because most of the time, people see what they want to see. Even if Mizu's face makes her stand out as "not 100% Japanese," no one in the world of BES looks at Mizu's clothes, her bearing, her sword, hears her voice, and will ever in a million years conclude that she is a woman, because expectations around gender roles in the Edo period were so rigid and so widely enforced.
One detail that proved this to me is after the Four Fangs fight:
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Ringo takes off Mizu's clothes so he can stitch her up, then leaves her clothes off even after he's done. He doesn't even throw her cloak over her as a blanket or anything. There's a little a straw (pallet?) as a divider there on the left, but anyone could just peek around it and see Mizu and her chest bindings. (I think it's mostly there as a windbreaker.)
And Taigen is right there, but he doesn't give a shit:
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Opinions probably vary hugely on this, but my impression is that because the show doesn't make any kind of deal about Taigen being in the room with Mizu here, my guess is that Mizu isn't in any danger of Taigen thinking she's female. Even when I watched the show for the first time, I assumed that Taigen had seen Mizu out of her clothes here, and that he thought nothing of it.
Eat your heart out, Li Shang (Mulan 1998). I actually do think that this scene is a direct and purposeful side-eye to that movie, lol
There's obviously some nuance to how "severe" being mixed race is compared to how "severe" being a woman is for Mizu:
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After all, Swordfather can't bear to listen to Mizu confess to being a woman.
So a Japanese man can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants in BES. A Japanese woman has limited options: marriage, religion, or a brothel. A mixed-race man is an eyesore in this story. A mixed-race woman is a death sentence.
May as well eliminate the female aspect, and do what you can about the mixed-race aspect. Because that's just realistic.
Meaning Mizu can avoid the strictures Edo society places on women. But she can't avoid the repercussions that come with being mixed race. And I truly don't think that it's just because "there's no brown contacts yet."
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pogostikk · 22 days
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SHREK AUDIO
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dogboots · 8 months
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normal about these two...
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lunarin64art · 19 days
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That feeling when he can't stand to see you that way, no matter what you do, no matter what you say😩😭💔
#scott pilgrims precious little life#scott pilgrim vs the world#spvtw#spto#scott pilgrim#wallace wells#lisa miller#scollace#kim pine#natalie adams#envy adams#don't rlly know if I like how this turned out but oh well;;;#hope its obvious that this is based on the song “Scott Pilgrim” which the creation the comics were inspired from#the lyrics always make me think of Wallace and Lisa's feelings for Scott every time I hear it#ofc you could also relate it to Kim especially since the singers voice kind of reminds me of her#but overall the lyrics fit these two much better since Scott never truly “saw them that way” despite how long they've liked him#and they always seem happier to see him compared to Kim#Im surprised tho that I havent yet seen anyone draw these two together now that their dialogue parallels have been acknowledged more lately#also tho I wish more people pointed out that they both got cucked by red heads LOL#and Kim and Envy actually do look really similar when scott first meets them#makes me wonder if Scott subconsciously went for Envy since she reminded him of Kim (which would be fitting given that you could argue that#Envy dated Scott because he reminded her of Todd. Since he and Scott are confirmed to be meant to be seen as similar to one another#so much so that even their first and last names rhyme#last thing I'll add tho is that while Wallace and Lisa are very similar even personality wise#the one big difference is that despite that whole conclusion on vol4 of Scott not cheating on Ramona with Lisa because he loves her#the writers apparently think it would be “organically correct” for him to have an affair with wallace LMAO#but I guess we shouldn't be surprised since Wallace and Ramona are both in the front of the official valentines art which is clearly#a deptiction of Scotts wet dream or smth (oh and you could also argue that Wallace and Lisa parallel on that art since they're both#shirtless with white socks.. which could be a reference to how lisa wears skimpy clothes for Scott and Wallace often only wears boxers#to like sexually frustrate Scott for fun or smth
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months
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Happy Valentine's Day! (and this blog's first post anniversary!)
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