#the amount of effort and passion and just the sheer love for the art of animation from this movie is fucking insane
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finally, here is my bit to you, sixth guns.
(typed format under the cut, just in case)
I want to offer you a few words. That is the only talent I feel I have—using words—yet, I lost them all for a while.
If I were to describe Reita and my love for him, I would be duplicating everything that has already been said, by the rest of the band and the rest of you. Besides, you all know him in your hearts, and those words don't exist either way.
So, I want to speak to you, sixth gun, because you will hear me. Your despair is only as true and large as your love was. Don't let anyone take that from you. What you had was real; the love existed and it was a pillar of something far greater than music. The sacred exchange of emotion through art is the very foundation of every human soul. The GazettE, Reita, have put an immeasurable amount of effort, heart, passion and energy into it—for 22 years of his life. Rest assured, he never regretted it.
And still, to us, to them, it is more than music itself. It is lifelong kinship and family; the majority of you have met your friends, partners, and found family among fellow sixth guns. Many of you have had the course of your life impacted by them, whether to seek a foreign country and foreign language or pursue music. Artists and writers, you have found inspiration every day in Reita. And that is not in vain. The love is real.
Reita uplifted the spirit of his bandmates and his fans and I am pretty certain that he would be sad if nobody picked up this mission of his.
In Ruki's words: stand by my side. We quote him: you have my word.
The sheer solidity of the GazettE and sixth guns for being able to come to each other's aid at this moment is a testament to the bond that is being tested in a way we never wanted to experience. But we do stand firm because we’ve had great mentors to teach us this resilience. This connection is no thin thread but a rope; the GazettE's devotion is made of stone that Reita had helped build—so please, rest on it.
Believe me that one day, you will think of him with joy and without tears. But not today. Today, we sit in darkness. Don't keep your heart from shedding whatever number of tears it is holding. Don't be afraid of your grief because our foundation can take much, much more than that, for it is a foundation that came to be under Reita's hands, too. Let this gaping hole empty so that every corner can be filled with love.
Then, tomorrow, come back to the light.
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why do you think Gamers have the politics they do
interesting question, I feel like this might be an appearance rather than a reality. a lot of people play video games to the degree that they might reasonably be called a "gamer," but not necessarily everyone who plays a moderate to high amount of video games will identify as such.
there could be something about like personal self-identification specifically through the lens of a commodity, and a consumer product that is largely regarded as "low art", that fosters resentment and inferiority complexes which in turn gets directed at removing or responding to "threats" to the subculture. we've seen the same thing in a similarly lame way in punk rock subculture. gamers getting outraged at someone criticizing their hobby is a long-standing habit: flipping out over Roger Ebert's dismissiveness of games as an artistic medium, the vitriol for Jack Thompson and other "moral majority" types who believed games caused or promoted violence/sexual degradation. I personally agree that both of them are wrong in pretty obvious ways, but the sheer anger that came out of this was pretty astonishing.
from there it's somewhat easy to see how self-identified gamers could be primed to take "games should probably have non-racist depictions of black and Muslim people" and "not every female character needs to be a sexy lamp in a crop top" as attacks from outsiders, especially if they are white men and already have a culturally informed predisposition to get their hackles up over criticisms like that.
"nerd ressentiment" is also not a gaming-specific thing, near as I can tell. hence "ComicsGate," hence anime weirdos who concoct conspiracies that Western translators are inserting gender ideology into their subs, etc. but nerd ressentiment is both financially lucrative AND politically useful for right-wing movements: GamerGate, for example, struck at a time when reactionaries were getting loud about "politics(/'forced' diversity) in media" around a bunch of different mediums, not just games.
so it seems likely to me that this is like, a deliberate (or at least self-deceiving) fabrication on the part of right-leaning ecosystems. like the sheer loudness of GamerGate could lead one to believe that maybe they are the "true representative" of the subculture, and in fact this was their explicit message. its biggest individual targets were Anita Sarkeesian and Zoe Quinn, both of whom could be constructed as outsiders to gaming (from my understanding this was "true" of Sarkeesian, insofar as such a silly claim can be true, and obviously not true of Quinn). Quinn making a game that was explicitly about disempowerment, bucked against prevailing trends, and then getting praise for it from gaming websites allowed for the construction of a narrative where there are malevolent elites uplifting "(post-)modern" cultural trash in order to subvert something the true fans love, which ties in with right-wing narratives about degenerate art.
social media and algorithm shit also likely contributed to this. right-wing news ecosystems picked up on this basically uninteresting story about gamers having a depraved fit and fed into it, so if you're a resentment driven young man with a limited political education, a lot of time on 4Chan and YouTube, and a passion for gaming, who's been watching Sargon of Akkad "owning" Feminist Frequency, you might start getting Paul Joseph Watson and Infowars videos about it in your recommendations, then you get Peterson videos, &c. the fact that this all got perpetuated through YouTube, 4Chan, Twitter, etc. is also indicative to me of how much this was engineered by both deliberate radicalization efforts and the systemic issues with online platforms contributing to political fanaticism.
when you break it down, this "silent majority" rhetoric is obviously untrue, as it usually is with conspiratorially minded and reactionary groups. there are a lot of people who play video games who are not white men, and there are a lot of people with large audiences who play, write about, critique, and care about video games who skew liberal or socialist. it's a kind of Manichean strategy where if you make it clear enough that people who aren't politically conservative (or right-libertarian) white men aren't welcome in gaming spaces, large swaths of those "othered" by this will eventually self-select out of those spaces. meanwhile, being some kind of supervillainous arch-reactionary looks more and more like a prerequisite to being in gaming spaces.
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Re: this post about AI and creators...
---
See, here's the thing: it's not about my (paid, regular) job. That doesn't exhaust me--not like other jobs I've had. That's not what I'm talking about when I say "work."
I mean effort. I mean that kind of work. What I really mean is
Not everyone is creative and everyone needs to get okay with that.
A lot of people in fandom/internet culture are creative--sometimes extremely creative. But there's a lot of us out here who just aren't.
I thought I wanted to be a novelist when I was in my teens and 20s, so I took creative writing classes and I hated every assignment. It was like pulling teeth: it was painful, it was difficult, and it took for-fucking-ever to get done.
Same thing with the studio art 101 class I took in college: every assignment I just wanted it done. The process fucking sucked and absolutely exhausted me. (I did a lot of tracing before that, which was also tedious but at least I knew I'd get a decent result at the end.)
It was agonizing. It was tedious. It was all, quite frankly, completely fucking boring.
It just takes so much effort and patience to Make Things and I just don't have either. The sheer amount of effort required to make one short story (let's say) does not equal whatever results I might get. The ROI is terrible.
I don't have "novel ideas" or "creative approaches" to things. I don't have the love or passion or drive some people have that can push them over the wall of required effort to make something. Hell, I don't even have the strength or patience to consume things. 20 minutes into a movie and I'm just like "This is so tedious. How much longer is this thing?"
The tedium that comes with trying to write or draw or whatever is just unbearable. I don't get interesting ideas and I don't have the drive to see them realized anyway. I can kind of do photography because that's just a matter of finding a subject lol.
So when it comes to AI, sometimes I'll just saunter up to Midjourney and be like "Hey, computer. Spit out something interesting to look at real quick." And then it produces an image that's an amalgamation of whatever it's been taught and sometimes it's a nonsense image, sometimes it's a surreal image, sometimes it's a dreamlike image--but it's always something I could never think of, so it's novel, so it interests me. No tedium, no agony, no exhaustion. The ROI is ideal.
Yeah, idk, this whole glorification of THE WORK and THE EFFORT and THE ACT OF CREATION seems like a lot of "creative types" are just closet masochists.
#i was put here without my consent#i'm stuck here without my consent#i'm just fucking around until it's finally my turn to die#unpopular opinion#i know i know
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Types of People: Cunty edition
Cunty// “Sexy, iconic, never been done before, serving” (Urban Dictionary)
Cuntiness to me is not about how you look, but the energy you give. The sheer amount of lack of fucks someone gives is what makes them cunty. This post is for people who don’t care about others opinions, or don’t want to care about others opinions. I wanted to add different aspects of each type because I’d like for there to be more nuance to my content and I’d love to make written and visual aesthetics for these different types or base my own characters off of them. Let me know which ones you are!
Cunty- Expensive: Elektra Abundance, Miranda Priestly, Dracula, Cookie Lyons
- Having a signature “look” or aesthetic, wear a signature perfumed substance, more down to Earth compared to Lilith type, but they still appreciate opulence and a healthy dose of attitude
- They demand respect in one way or another (whether it be reading someone so hard that they piss themselves in public, trying to kill your ex boyfriend, or making a girl’s hair fallout). They know their worth and they demand that their needs be met.
- They care less about looking sexy and more looking polished. They want to people to think they look expensive and high end, even if that’s not the case
- These are the people that have a surprising amount of tenacity, they have the willpower to get what they want, whatever the cost. People are surprised by their passion and ambition
- These people dress for themselves and they refuse to look anything less than perfection. They put a lot of effort into their appearance and they like to be praised for it
- Care more about success and status than the other types and can have a hard time hearing about what they are doing wrong and can’t really take criticism.
- They are the ones that hype themselves up every time they walk out the door. They really like having an image (ie. being a bad bitch).
- They are willing to burn the whole world down to get what they want and they will look good doing it too.
Cunty- Indifferent yet Impassioned: Luna Lovegood, Amiee Gibbs, Amelie
- Might wear a very specific style of clothes that is tailored to their interests and views on life, is passionate about their friends and can be taken advantage of easily because of their kindness or willingness to see the best in people
- Very creative, love all art forms and really like to express themselves through their clothing. It’s often more colorful or abnormal that sets them visually apart from others.
- The older they get, the more they learn to appreciate their autonomy and they will fight anyone who tries to take it from them.
- They don’t get upset easily and often are very understanding and forgiving. Are visibly strange to other people, whether it be their clothes, disposition, voice, eye movements, or just lack of understanding or context in the given situation
- Really likes to go on self dates and wants to learn more about themselves as people, they want to grow as people outside of those they care about, and are likely to find interests in more nature based activities
- Appreciates all people and have an easy time seeing all sides of the same coin, seldom do they discredit something someone said unless they are incredibly angered- when they get angry they tend to be bursting at the seams with their frustration and ire- especially because they don’t feel it very often, it builds inside of them and bursts at inopportune moments
- Could be laughed at or talked about for their apparent strangeness, purely because they live differently than others and experience things differently. They try their best to soldier on, but it does make them sad to know that not everyone is able to appreciate others as they can.
- They are very flamboyant in their approach to life, very animated and aren't able to contain their excitement for things. Because of this they are very easy to read. Don’t ask for much from people and really just want to be happy- they deserve the world.
Cunty- Intense: Toph Beifong, Imperator Furiosa, Sevika, Maeve Wiley
- These are the people that are more scary to others, the ones that put others off for whatever reason. It could be that they wear more avant garde or subculture-based clothes, their general attitude towards others, or just their willingness to whoop ass on any given day
- These are the people that get out of bed and chain themselves to a building in protest, the ones that are willing to stage a coup and take down a totalitarian government
- They walk around with “I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me” vibes, and nobody wants to mess with them, because they can and will annihilate people
- Willing to do the dirty work in order to achieve their goals, passionate as hell and willing to die for their cause
- Effortlessly terrifying, big RBFs on these bitches, and it’s amazing. So many people admire them because of their energy, they just ooze the willingness to get into difficult conversations in order to get the job done
- They are alluring, though, they make a statement just by being in the room
- My loves that are a part of this group are aggressively supportive and willing to fight anyone who dares mess with their people. Are the ones that will slap you to get you to understand your own stupidity.
- Unwaveringly aware of their worth and value, understand that they can bring a lot to the table if people would just let them
- Part of the reason why they care so much is because a lot of them have been through a lot on their own and had to cope in more unsavory ways for one reason or another. There is no reason for these people not to get infinite smooches from me.
- Isn’t able to understand compliance and absolutely hates being seen as weak or being weak, because to them once someone gets to that point they lose their competency. They are afraid to cry, afraid to be emotional, and have a hard time being open about their emotions to others. They aren't able to accept that people may care about them and that they are loved. Just because someone sees their value doesn’t mean they feel valued.
- Most definitely Queer.
Cunty- The Full On Lilith Moment: Kat Hernandez, Maddie Perez, Prudence Night
- These are the ones that love to look seductive, bold, and sexy. They may or may not be wanting attention from others- you’ll never know
- But they always capture gazes from anyone that looks at them, this is because their energy fills the room, and they seldom aren’t looking to intimidate people in some way.
- Very loyal to the people they care about, but can quickly become disillusioned if the people they feel close to disappoint them in some way (rational or not), if they aren’t feeling appreciated, or are betrayed in one way or another.
- Goes for opulence and luxury always, they want good quality in all aspects of their life (partners, clothes, shoes, decor, friends, education, living situations, etc.)
- Can easily fall into the trap of wanting things they can’t have, or dressing for others so they can get validation. But, you’ll find that they always get to a point in their life where they dress how they want and aren’t going to suffer fools anymore
- Sarcasm on point, dry sense of humor, often sits on the sidelines and laughs at the bullshit in front of them. However once it gets too much they will go into the ring themselves so that they can wring someone’s neck.
- May have a hard time understanding their value outside of their looks or body. And, they really like to indulge in themselves. On the outside they may seem to be very shallow, but they really care about people and how they feel. They are very empathetic people who can easily be taken for granted due to how much of themselves they put into their relationships- romantic or otherwise.
- They know that life isn’t worth living if you don’t feel good in the clothes you’re wearing. These people may spend a lot of time on self maintenance and grooming because they just like to feel pampered
- They spend a lot of time with their loved ones and spend a lot of money/time on/with them, they are fiercely protective of their people and causes they care about
- Extremely open to different types of beauty and completely understands the lack of diversity in the beauty industry, they are very active when it comes to working towards a common goal, and are willing to shank a bitch if it gets the point across
- Will protest and show support for many different movements- especially underserved peoples and will stab a bitch with their heels if they dare to utter a slur in their presence
- Will absolutely punch nazis
Cunty- Casual and Tired- but still serving: Tiana, Sarah Bailey, Molly Abrams, Piper Halliwell, Blanca Evangelista, Bonnie Bennet
- This archetype is my favorite, because it references underserved or underappreciated characters in media. The ones that no one appreciates or respects. But, they are all survivors. If something is wrong, they are the ones to get that shit done.
- They may look more normal than the rest, they may not always turn heads. But, they have hearts of lions and spirits to match.
- People can sense that. Their willingness to fight, their willingness to do what needs to be done. To throw caution to the wind for their loved ones.
- The loyalty of these people is ridiculous, they will stand by their people through thick and thin, always the silent protector.
- All I want for these guys is for them to get the appreciation they deserve because they are allowed to be taken care of too. There is so much love to go around and they need to start accepting some for themselves
- I implore that my loves that fall in this category turn love inwards and stop helping people who do not appreciate your sacrifice, who are not able to see the value you bring to their life
- I ask that they focus on their health, to eat food that they like, get enough sunshine, read a good book, watch their favorite movie, see their friends at least once a week, break up the monotony, stand up for themselves at work, set better boundaries with people, unlearn any codependency they may have learned or allowed, give up the toxic things in their life (whether they drink too heavily, smoking a lot to escape their pain, gamble to feel some semblance of excitement, have sex because they feel the need to punish themselves, restrict their eating because they don’t feel like they are enough for people, spend time on social platforms that make them stressed or angry, etc.)
- This archetype may be the most outwardly ordinary, but the cuntiest thing about them is their resolution and willingness to get the job done.
- Their independence and self accountability shines in the way they treat people. Their vibes are more down to earth but by far the most powerful because they have been through so much, and just spending a little bit of time with them it is easy to see how much they do for the people around them and the amount that they sacrifice.
- The love I have for these people is insurmountable, keep on truckin’ all of you. You are loved and respected in this space as long as you give that same love and respect back.
All right, my loves. Have a wonderful day, drink enough water and eat good food! And, always stay safe.
#arcane#sevika#luna lovegood#harry potter#charmed#piper halliwell#tiana#sarah bailey#the craft#nancy downs#rochelle zimmerman#neve campbell#type of people: cunty edition#I am gay can you tell#Captain hook#blanca evangelista#pose#elektra abundance#bonnie bennet#tvd#the vampire diaries#kat hernandez#euphoria#rue bennet#maddie perez#prudence night#the chilling adventures of sabrina#sabrina#prudence#toph beifong
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despite the best efforts of tumblr's advertising team, i watched a bit of the new one piece show w my brother, and. holy fuck i love it. i never got into the manga or anime bc it was too much for me to get into - the manga and anime were so long and involved. i love detective conan even though its so long bc its broken up into way more manageable chunks through the 4ish-chapter murder mystery format, but one piece is a much longer continuous story.
i also just. didn't love the art style?? i'm not a huge fan of oda's style of character design (to each their own!). i dont love the fairy tail art style for much the same reasons, including how cookie cutter sexy so many of the women are and the sort of transphobia and/or fatphobia underlying a couple specific character designs. this is obv a critique made with very little knowledge of either source material, but it was enough of an irk going in for me that it prevented me from getting into either show.
the live action one piece, though, is a much better entry point for the series for me, because i don't feel overwhelmed with the sheer amount of content. it also solved my personal issues with the aesthetics of the show by grounding all the character designs in reality a little more. im a huge fan of the casting in this show, especially because it seems to me like they're taking deliberate steps to rework those iffy character decisions. there are a couple other bts things i noticed, like a large amount of physical set pieces, that are only unique to me bc im used to the marvel movie "everything is a soundstage" mentality but makes the whole world more real to me in a way i think i needed for this show.
i don't watch a lot of live action shows, especially anime adaptations, but this one is clearly made with a ton of passion and it's a great introduction to this longrunning and clearly beloved series for anyone who may never have otherwise given one piece a chance. i really hope it gets another season (or two, or three-) and i really recommend it!
#one piece#one piece live action#these are just my thoughts after watching most of the season! i think after this ill go through the tag or smth#and see what other people think :) i dont have the context that manga/anime fans have for this show so i wanna read some analysis.#btw. i think it is so so funny to describe myself as a live action-only one piece fan
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I only come off lurk mode for serious business. The queen ask-eth and she shall receive...eth.
Not on anon, BUT the obvious answer is clearly anything and everything you write because being able to take part and read the way your passion for writing increases, your skill expands with every fic, and the love, effort, and care you put into every series/fics is frankly astounding. You're an automatic weapon with the sheer amount of content you provide and so deadly accurate with the quality too. I think my favorite thing about your work is honestly being able to see the joy it brings to you. Plus you're always so available to requests and open for discussion, it's just such a lovely thing to see when someone as skilled as you is still so willing to interact and create with your readers!
But gushing about you personally aside, you asked for fav fics!
So OBVS choice is TBABTO bc uhhh I'm contractually obligated as the president of ghost face fan club, but also I just LOVE the series and it being the first fic that brought us together has a real special place in my heart!
Then there's your magnum opus tmomd, like the filth, the skill, and the eloquently plotted descent into Freddy is grotesque in ALLLLL the right ways. You're converting people left and right with this baby.
And of course I love anything house of wax. You know my preferences. Your Vinny and Bo hit so well, no surprise there.
But I think, you might be surprised that my fav fic of yours is actually a Buddy Swanson one. "Dear jealousy" in particular. Partially, bc it's the first fic of him I read, so it being my catalyst of hungry eyes 👀. And here's the thing, I've still to this day never even seen his movies. I plan to at some point, and eventually will, but you know me, epitome of distraction. But does that stop me from read everything you put out about him? Nope. I feel like I have such a clear picture of his character just from your fics alone that I'm not missing out by not seeing the films. Would they add more context? Sure. Would they increase my love for the character and make me start another WIP. Probably. But understand his character? Nah, you covered that inside and out. You have such a way of capturing a character and their essence that it's an art form. Which makes your fics so genuinely within the universe of possibility. Overwhelming talent.
TLDR; Bexxx is the best at writing and everyone else concedes. Love you, xoxo 💋😘💅🏼
HARLEY!
I AM CRYING, SCREAMING, THROWING UP-
This is amazing, TBABTO is so important to me for a million reasons I have talked about before but for how it brought us together is a MASSIVE ONE!
Also hearing how much you love my Bo and Vin stuff when you write like the best of the best is like whaaaaaaaaaaat-
Also NO SHIT!
THAT IS YOUR FAVE?! I love that fic! I love Buddy too and you love him just from my writing?! Fuck me uppp Harley! If you ever wanna watch Stage Fright with Tina and I, since she introduced me to that movie and thus Buddy, please lemme know! We are overdue for another movie night!
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Do you think there will ever be a trilogy like LotR again? Where the amount of energy that went into building sets to force perspective, sets that were identical except scaled up or down to make it look comfy for a hobbit but too small for Gandalf, where the cart that Frodo and Gandalf ride in is built so that it looks like they’re side by side but actually are sitting far apart and the camera angle tricks you, where it just wins awards after awards, where the cast comes together the way they did, the story they told about good and evil and hope at the end of all things even in the darkest times, where the sheer number of people came together, when you think about the Rohirrim basically being the amount of New Zealanders who saw the casting call of “hey are you a man of this age who can ride a horse? Congrats we want you in the movie” like this movie truly was something else it was love and art and I have yet to even WATCH the hobbit films because the trilogy aspect pushed me away frankly but the original lotr trilogy changed me and is one of the movies I have seen dozens of times and I just wonder will we ever see a movie trilogy again like that, especially with CGI now, will we see physical sets and real actors, it’s like Jurassic park, where the dinosaurs are seen only for about 15 minutes and the cgi was like 9, they had animatronics for the dinosaurs that they built including that giant T. rex and like, my favorite story about that is that the T. rex animatronic couldn’t get wet or it would break but the movie takes place in a monsoon and so people would have to slap this animatronic to try and dry it off and sometimes it would require repairs and people would crawl into that things mouth and sometimes mouth would just … close as it started working and they’d just kinda curl up and go oh shit but still they did it and like, nowadays people would say not worth it and CGI it up and I have hated the Jurassic park movies since they started making the new films, because it all looks fake and empty. I want filmmakers to say let’s put the money into making this real let’s connect ourselves to it because I think there is absolutely going to be more love and passion and effort poured into a project that isn’t just generated by technology but built by hand, made from real things, and it’s not a slam at CGI at all, because look at what the CGI did in Jurassic Park or Gollum from LotR, but it seems like we’ve lost so much to quick cheap media and idk. I just really love the depth and passion that went into lord of the rings and want that back and I was listening to the soundtrack earlier and got on an emotional tangent anyways love y’all bye
#LETS NOT EVEN BRING UP FOUR SEPARATE COMMENTARIES FOR LOTR#they didn’t just do the actors they said LETS HEAR EVERYTHING ABOUT THE MAKING OF THIS MOVIE
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Shit, now I’m thinking again about the structure of Star Wars fandom versus Star Wars source material creators and I feel like there’s a fascinating discussion to be about how there’s a blurring line between “fan” versus “author/artist/creative” with the way LF is hiring so many popular fans to create source material content for them.
And part of that discussion is that there’s no real easy way to tell where the creator ends and the fan begins, especially when LF has been spending increasing amounts of effort to make people act as if liking Star Wars is now part of your personality, that it defines who you are as a person.
I look at popular YouTubers being asked to host segments during Celebration or I look at popular fans on Twitter getting to draw official art for LF or the accounts of writers of the SW books, and it’s impossible to tell where the fan begins and the creator ends.
Which I don’t think strikes a lot of people as a problem, the sheer number of people who work for LF are all like, “I’m also a Star Wars fan!” and that’s not inherently bad, I think being fan can really, really help them love what they do and have passion for it and you can tell they care about what they put out, even when they’re working for a giant megacorporation. Nor do I think “just doing your job” is an inherently great way to produce SW material, either.
And maybe part of my problem is the separation of creator and fan made it more navigable when interacting with someone, like, let’s say I don’t like a SW book, because they signed a contract to write a book for Lucasfilm, there’s a level of agreeing to people reacting to your work. They are a professional writer, they can put their big kids’ undies on and deal with it.
But I can’t and shouldn’t do the same for a fanfic that someone wrote, because they’re another fan, they don’t have the same influence or reach, nor did they sign a contract to be part of that kind of thing.
So, are they fan or creator? This weird mix of both--and I haven’t even touched on how I’m starting to wonder when LF will be hiring more based on popularity than talent--on the surface feels like it’s trying to be a big, cozy family, but it’s not, it’s a business and a product.
And that part is bad, too, but also I’m thinking about how fandom etiquette has certain rules, that you shouldn’t be a dick to other fans (and there’s this whole big other conversation about fandom treating someone who likes something they don’t as the same as being actively horrible as a person, how there are behaviors in fandom that are genuinely worth talking about/examining and then there’s people who hate me just because I like Character A and not Character B or whatever, that this is a difficult morass that we all need to work harder on) but if they’re both fans and creators, then how the hell are you supposed to interact with them? Are they a professional or a fan? Because half the time I don’t even know anymore.
That distinction is important because, even if you should keep scale in mind, when you criticize an author on something, you’re criticizing up. They’re still a human being, but they’re also a professional. When you criticize a fellow fan, you’re criticizing someone parallel to you. Yes, their amount of being popular on the internet can be a factor and being a fan doesn’t get you immunity from criticism, but they are still just a fan and should be treated as such.
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Worthy pt.2
Rewritten
Thor Odinson x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 1635 words
Warnings: none
Summary: Reader can lift Mjölnir and Thor is more than impressed
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Your head was throbbing.
It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, not that you should have been surprised. Last night, you finished every last bit of Asgardian liquor that Thor had offered you.
It was just too much.
Needless to say, you woke up with one hell of a hangover. It felt like every cell in your body was giving up, and you could hardly keep your eyes open as you leaned over the toilet.
“M’lady, do you know what this means?” Thor wondered, unaware that you could hardly focus on a word coming out of his mouth as your body purged every bit of the interstellar poison.
As best you could tell, he had said that exact same thing four times already but you just didn’t have it in you to ask him what it meant. Frankly, you had no idea what he was even talking about.
“What are you talking about?” you sighed eventually, the blonde’s sheer presence near you right now causing a serious disturbance. You didn’t want to give what he was talking about too much attention, your head in your hands.
However, Thor didn’t seem bothered at all by how much you were having a hard time. The idea of a hangover was still pretty lost on him, even now.
“You’re worthy”
It took a moment or two for you to process what he was saying, blinking a few times in an attempt to look at him. You had no clue what that was supposed to mean, because what you assumed couldn’t have been correct.
That was the phrase he traditionally used when referring to his hammer, but there was no way that was possible.
“I can’t pick up Mjölnir, only you can do that” you scoffed, genuinely questioning whether or not he knew what he was talking about. He told you that alcohol didn’t have an effect on him, but you were doubting that.
Maybe you weren’t the only one who’d had too much to drink last night.
Though, that didn’t seem to be the case. All he did was shake his head, “I was under that impression, but that clearly isn’t the case” he shrugged, thinking about last night.
You didn’t have much memory of the event but that didn’t make it any less real.
“Thor, I swear to whatever God, It’s too early for Asgard talk” You mumbled, getting yourself cleaned up as best you could before plopping down back in bed.
Normally, this wasn’t the sort of thing you would have ever done but last night had just gotten the best of you. It had been a hard few months and you just wanted to be able to relax.
Not that you felt that way right now. All you had was a throbbing headache and a God at your bedside.
...A God that clearly wasn’t going to be going anywhere anytime soon.
It was clear to you that Thor was waiting for something from you, and wasn’t going to leave you be until he got it. “Come with me, and I can prove it to you” he suggested, practically grabbing you and pulling you down the hall before you can argue.
You didn’t feel well, of course, but the sheer desire Thor had for your compliance was enough for you to leave your complaints at the door. You had gotten to know Thor well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go.
He didn’t stop until you were in his room, your head spinning by the time you did. Now you knew for sure that the Mighty Thor had never had a hangover.
“I had my suspicions, as you’re built like an Asgardian, but I could have never imagined this” he grinned, setting Mjölnir down on the table in front of you.
You still had no idea what he wanted from you, though, you didn’t have to wonder much more when Thor smiled at you.
“Pick it up”
You sighed heavily, looking between the hammer on the table and the blonde at your side. It didn’t make any sense, as you knew that you couldn’t lift it.
Though, Thor didn’t seem to believe that.
“If I do this, will you let me go back to bed?” you asked and the man nods slowly, waiting for you to attempt it. He knew much better than you did what this meant, but nothing could proceed until you proved it to yourself.
All you did was roll your eyes, grasping at the handle of his mighty hammer, and pulled.
You gave it everything you had, fully expecting the hammer to stay in its place. However, much to your surprise, it gave way and sent you back on your butt, the hammer in your lap.
Immediately, Thor burst into jovial laughter, taking the hammer from you before offering you a hand. “I told you that you were worthy” he grinned, lifting you with little effort.
“How did I just do that?” you stammered, hangover long gone by this point. As it would turn out, lifting a celestial relic was no match for a little bit of alcohol.
You couldn’t believe this was happening.
“You appear to be one of the few mortals who are perfectly worthy” he muttered, his voice drifting more and more until he seemed to realize something.
The whole thing was strange, and if you had been in your right mind, maybe you would have noticed. However, you were still in such a shock over what you had just done that you didn’t hardly pay him any mind.
...Until Thor bent down slightly to look directly in your eyes.
“Y/N, I think that you and I may now be engaged,” he informed, once again killing the cloud of amazement you had been living in, pushing that all away from you.
You had no idea how he’d come to that conclusion. Still, there was a lot about Asgard that you didn’t understand and this seemed like it was going that way.
All you could do was stare at him for a moment, blinking slow as you tried to process what he was suggesting.
~
“It’s an old legend I was told as a child, there would be a mortal women who was meant to be the Queen of Asgard”
All you could do was stare as Thor explained his epiphany. After the initial shock of being able to lift Mjölnir, you decided that you needed to get something in your stomach before anything else could continue.
You needed something to eat.
Still, even after several coffees and some scrambled eggs, you had no idea where this came from. Last night, you had gone to a party, but this morning, you were talking about Asgardian legends that frankly, had nothing to do with you.
...Or, at least, you didn’t think so.
Thor, on the other hand, seemed to feel differently.
“And you and I are engaged, why again?” you asked, doing your very best to understand. You had just yet to connect the dots, no matter how hard you wanted to.
Luckily, Thor was very understanding of how strange this was and had no problem telling you every story he could about this legend. It was something he didn’t believe as a kid, but it had to be the truth.
You were sitting in front of him now, and that was proof enough for him.
“So, because I can lift Mjölnir, I am supposed to be the Queen? You think that’s me?” you questioned, earning nothing more than a hearty nod from the man in return.
It just didn’t seem real.
After all, you cared about Thor but you weren’t Queen material. You weren’t even Asgardian, so you had no idea how the people of Asgard would react to the news.
For all you knew, they wouldn’t want you there.
However, Thor didn’t seem to be bothered. In fact, throughout the entire conversation, he’d had the biggest smile on his face. “You and I have only been dating for like twelve minutes mortal time” You joked, taking a sip of coffee with a giggle.
You didn’t even know if the two of you were ready for that.
“Would you be my queen, Lady Y/N?” he asked and you, a seasoned shield operative with training in torture, multiple weapons and lethal amounts of martial arts, passed out.
You weren’t ready.
“Y/N? Are you okay? I was so worried” Thor wondered, his booming voice waking you from your dream. Between his close proximity and his yelling, you found yourself up and about.
Though, you were a bit out of it. After all, you passed out flat on the floor and after the day you’d had, he couldn’t blame you.
“I had this weird dream,” you started, your voice lulled as you sat up from where you were, laying back. You were a bit spacey, doing your best to explain what you could recall.
“You asked me to marry you”
It was strange to you, something that you hadn’t seen coming, but Thor was quick to stop you. “I did, and I intend to make you my bride, if you will have me” he hummed a gasp falling from your lips at the implication.
You really hadn’t seen this coming, and you were admittedly still in shock over the events of the day but that didn’t mean you didn’t know what you wanted to do.
So, when Thor asked again, you knew just what to say.
“Will you have me?” He asks, and all you could do was nod, a tear in your normally dry eye. “I guess Queen Y/N of Asgard, has a nice ring to it” You giggle kissing the love of your life passionately. Thank the Gods for that damn Asgardian liquor.
#thor#thor odinson#avengers#marvel#thor x reader#thor x ps reader#thor x plus size reader#thor imagine#thor odinson x reader#thor odinson x ps reader#thor odinson x plus size reader#thor odinson imagine#avengers x reader#avengers x ps reader#avengers x plus size reader#avengers imagine#marvel x reader#marvel x ps reader#marvel x plus size reader#marvel imagine
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Re-reading Yu-Gi-Oh (part 1)
So... I bitch a lot about Yu-Gi-Oh. When I don’t complain about it online and accuse it of scamming kid me, I ridicule the story and the many holes in the game rules.
But I actually used to love this manga with a burning passion. I bought it because I was fixated with the cards, but instead I got traumatized. In an awesome way.
So I decided to re-read the manga about the possibly best known TCG game in the world and see how it started, how it evolved, and if the story still holds up.
So, I’m reading chapter 1, and we have to talk about the art.
The art style at the beginning was chunky and sometimes downright awkward. But it was still very enjoyable. The characters were very expressive and the tone of the style could swing quickly from wacky and rubberhose like to eerie and brooding depending on the situation. It makes you forgive odd-looking legs and hands that becomes massive. It is clear that it is someone’s first project.
So, this is Yugi. Possibly the cutest and meekest punk kid who ever lived. Yugi is not an outdoor person, so he spends most of his recesses inside the classroom. He brings a ton of games to school, hoping that someone might wanna play with him, but all of his classmates prefer to go outside and do stuff like basketball. And being a short teenager who practically looks like a little boy means he is not a desirable team mate in any ball game.
This is totally just a theory, but I think Yugi’s signature punk hairstyle is his way of trying to look a bit more edgy to try do something about his cute appearance.
... Yeah, it’s not working. He still looks like a fricking Gummibear.
As Yugi is minding his own business, we meet two familiar faces.
... their names are actually Jounouchi and and Honda, but most people know them by their American names, so I will just refer to them as Joey and Tristan.
It’s so odd to see their old designs. Especially Joey since his hair is not as big and square like as it is today. And what the fuck is up with Tristan’s face?!
Anyways, while Yugi decides to play with the most valuable game in his collection, Joey and Tristan decides to mess with him. They make an interesting bully duo where Tristan is more loud and is clearly having more fun bothering Yugi who is too short to put up a fight while Joey seems more stoic and is almost annoyed by Yugi for being a pushover. He even tells Yugi to be a man about it and at least try and take the game back from him by force. So while Tristian just enjoys picking on Yugi for the heck of it, Joey seems to sincerely dislike Yugi.
Luckily, Yugi doesn’t have trouble with bullies as such since he is friends with Tea who is so tough that she actually intimidate Joey and Tristan with sheer attitude. That’s actually impressive.
... A shame she is most of the time just the damsel in distress.
Tea is the only person in class who hangs out with Yugi since they have been friends since kindergarten. And she doesn’t mind staying inside at all since a ton of the guys are jerks who only wanna play basketball with the girls since it gives them an opportunity to look up their skirts.
Yeah, there is a lot of that in this manga. Most of the males in this series are kinda horny. the humor often relies on it, which downright creepy at times.
Even Yugi finds basketball more appealing now that he knows about the skirt-looking.
Lewd panty-shot aside, I think it is a nice detail that Yugi is as pathetic as the rest of the dudes in school, he probably just doesn’t have the courage to try get a look. It makes him less of a pure hero.
Altight, let’s stop talking about Yugi being a closet creep:/
Yugi shows Tea what his greatest treasure is: A LITTERAL treasure.
Yep, this is the famous Millennium Puzzle, practically the mascot of the series. It’s an ancient puzzle found in an pyramid that Yugi got from his grandfather who runs a game store. The puzzle is extremely valuable, both because it is from ancient Egypt and it is made of gold.
... And Yugi brings it to school where Tristan and Joey pushes him around...
Yugi has been struggling with the puzzle for eight years despite being a game nerd. Even though it is a blow to his not that big ego, he keeps trying to solve it since the box says that if he will be granted a wish if he manage to solve the puzzle.
Meanwhile, Joey and Tristan makes the fatal mistake of talking about picking on Yugi while Ushio is close enough to hear it. He is the school’s hall monitor and rumor has it that he is downright psychotic and is feared by most of the students. Heck, some of the teachers are uncomfortable being near him.
And this guy has decided to become Yugi’s bodyguard, something poor Yugi doesn’t take serious when Ushio tells him that.
Joey and Tristan are unaware how screwed they are as they keep having their fun bothering Yugi without our hero knowing it. Joey managed to steal a piece from the puzzle box before Tea interrupted, and Joey decides to throw the piece in the school’s swimming pool so that the puzzle becomes worthless as it can no longer be solved. I gotta say, that is pretty twisted and surprisingly sneaky of a teen bully. It’s downright creepy.
Speaking of creepy...
This is Yugi’s grandfather Sugoroku. He runs the game shop that Yugi lives in and is a living encyclopedia when it comes to games of all sorts.
And he can’t just tell Tea that she has grown. He HAS to mention her breasts as well. Da fuck is up with all the sex talk and panty shots in this series?! Does Kazuki Takahashi(the author) have some sort of issues?!
Yugi’s grandfather notices that Yugi is STILL trying to solve the ancient puzzle and warns Yugi that the puzzle is supposedly cursed. That the archeologist and his team died mysteriously shortly after finding the puzzle and the last one to kick the bucket said something about a “shadow game” with his dying breath.
That however makes Yugi even more determent to solve the puzzle. If it really is magical then chances are that he will be granted a wish by completing the puzzle.
Personally, I would call the nearest museum and sell the dang thing before it could kill me with it’s insane cursed magic.
Speaking of insane, Yugi realizes that he should have taken Ushio serious when he said he would be his bodyguard.
Yep, the SOB has dragged Joey and Tristan behind the school building and kicked their asses through and through. Tristan is in so much pain that he is barely conscious and Joey is so pummeled that all he can do is watch as Yugi shows how surprisingly brave he is as he demands that Ushio leaves them alone, even refer to them as his friends and that they were just trying to make him a man.
Yeah, picking on someone because they are too timid and demanding that they fight you despite knowing that they hat violence is the right way to make someone a man. Hip hooray for toxic masculinity!
Yugi defending Joey and Tristan results in him getting a beating as well.
One of the interesting things about early Yu-Gi-Oh is the raw and ugly violence. We talking dirty violence where people get kneed in the chest and kicked while they lie down. Not just off-screen, we witness our heroes be pummeled, making the series a bit more gritty and frightening. And this series is not for those with a weak stomach.
Joey is stunned, partly because Yugi defends him, but way more of the short spiky-haired kid’s courage. But Yugi is anything but afraid. After all, he refused to fight Joey, but he still tried to get the puzzle back(not successfully, but he made an effort instead of just squirming).
After Ushio finished kicking poor Yugi’s ass, he tells him to bring him money as “payment” for his “bodyguard service.” And we talking 200000 yen, that’s a lot of dough.
Ushio even pulls a god damn knife(!), just to show how fucking crazy he is!
Yugi goes home to see if he has money enough to pay Ushio, but he only has 1656 yen. In frustration, Yugi decides to solve his unsolvable puzzle, just to think of something else than the brute with a knife who is waiting for him at school.
But what do you know? Yugi finally get the hang of it. He sees that some of the pieces just needs to be rotated differently and he finish it in a couple of minutes.
... Or he WOULD have. He finally sees that one of the pieces are missing, breaking his heart and making his awful day even worse.
But Grandpa has the last piece. He tells Yugi that one of his friends from school had found it and asked him to give it to Yugi. And that he was soaked despite it not raining.
As Yugi is happy about being able to finish the puzzle and returns to his room, his grandpa thinks about that the boy was Joey and that he asked him not to tell Yugi it was him that came with the puzzle piece. Joey also told him about Ushio blackmailing Yugi, so Grandpa secretly puts money in Yugi’s schoolbag so he won’t get in trouble.
And this is where it get’s freaky.
Yep, here it is. the iconic moment Yugi gets blessed by the puzzle so that he can turn into the split personality we refer to as Yami which is Japanese for “Dark”.
Yugi then calls Ushio and tells him to meet him outside school at midnight.
Ushio is surprised as he sees that Yugi is wearing some sort of costume and that he looks way more cocky than before.
Yugi tells Ushio that he has the money he demands, but he has twice the amount. Fricking 400000 yen!
But Yugi only “owes” 200000 to Ushio, so he suggest that they play about them in a dark and twisted game.
Yugi and Ushio take turns stabbing the stack of money placed on their hand. They have to stab hard enough to take more than one single bill. The winner is the guy with most yen bills.
As they play, Ushio seems to be winning... but when it is his turn, he can feel that his hand is way too eager to stab.
This is not just a weird-ass game. This is a “shadow game”, a game that shows your true nature. Ushio’s greed is now collected in his hand, and he so desperately want to win the game that he can’t control it. He realizes that if he stabs, he won’t be able to control his strength and he will penetrate his own hand. Ushio has to either A) give up and keep his hand or B) win the game with one hand less.
Ushio picks C.
Ushio tries to kill Yugi, but that was a mistake. The puzzle has made him super human and he leaps from the ground, evading the knife.
And cheating in a shadow game is a big no-go as the host of the game has authority to punish you.
Yami Yugi curses Ushio with “Illusion of Greed”, meaning he will be doomed to live in an imaginary world where he sees nothing but money everywhere.
Next morning, he is still outside the schoolyard like a drooling idiot who yells about all of his imaginary money.
Yugi has no memory of what happened but is glad he no longer has to be worried of Ushio who is a harmless nutcase. Not only that, he has finally finished his puzzle... and Joey offers him his friendship.
And that was the start of the horror manga turned card game commercial. It has a lot of charm, is very eerie and I think I prefer Yami Yugi’s first look that is more child like. making him look downright creepy.
This retrospective will continue ASAP.
Till then, I’m Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.
#Yu-Gi-Oh#yugioh#yugi moto#joey wheeler#katsuya jonouchi#honda hitomi#anzu mazaki#tea gardner#tristan taylor#yami yugi#atem#manga
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(in response to your tags) That's something else that really bothers me too, Thomas is already so robbed by the story, taking so much from him and never letting him express anything about it. it feels so wrong to watch all of his interests and hobbies and passions get reduced to nothing
There's more to poc representation than just having a character of color (who gets white washed all the fucking time but) there's also culture, and language, and struggle and just a general sense of identity that none of the characters have. When Cordelia was introduced she was introduced as someone who was proud of her culture and seemed to love it but there are no signs of that anywhere, no references to food or fashion or art or anything. The only expressed connection she has to her cultural roots are with language, and while her and Alastair do speak Persian together occasionally, the biggest thing in the book regarding the language was that James learned it and it was some big "oh my god what a saint what an angel" moment but other than that there's no ties between Cordelia and her heritage, and it's honestly really sad because Cordelia's entire storyline and existence is already to serve and benefit James
And then there's Lucie who took one look at Cordelia feeling sad and lonely and disconnected and went, I'm going to write her a whole book and learn her native tongue and swear to be her closest friend when she's never had one
And to me that's a really big thing for someone to do, but there's a line in chain of iron that went something like "oh the beautiful cordelia isn't a real book it's just something lucie wrote to amuse me" (and yeah that scene ended up being about James too) but it's honestly so sad to me because Lucies still working on the book, and lucie really cares about the characters and the olot, and it is a real book to lucie
But yeah no as long as James gets to be a saint I guess it doesn't matter, might as well lay every other character down on some train tracks and drive right over them
THIS THIS ALL OF THIS
as someone who grew up not really seeing their culture represented in media i kinda get it and this shit is causing me physical pain, it’s never NEVER enough to just SAY someone is part of a culture when it involves immigration, the sheer lack of care for cordelia is killing me. her language is sprinkled in, her cultures food is name dropped and that is IT. the culture youre raised with is something that seeps into every part of your life and yet here’s little ms. london. i know damn well cordelia curses differently, has different idioms and words and phrasings and vocal tones and dress and way of life and view of the world and WE SEE NONE OF IT DESPITE HER BEING THE TITLE CHARACTER AND SUPPOSEDLY SECURE AND PROUD, and ESPECIALLY with her being a POC, an experience that’s so painfully underrepresented or plain badly represented this is a disgrace
her culture is just used for brownie points and to further james’s god act at this point, like don’t get me wrong i love the boy to death and its so sweet that he’s learning the language but if this excitement is about learning the language for a loved one where is this hype for thomas or lucie. once again its all just to further james being the perfect boy, not for cordelia to have someone who cares for every part of her. and WHAT happened to lucie learning it maybe i forgot but i can’t remember it being mentioned in this series, and thomas was reading that book once that’s literally it, where’s cordelia’s relationships outside of james, if learning the language is such a romantic insane thing where is the mention with thomastair its just JAMES
same for the book, it seems like anything unimportant to james becomes unimportant to everyone else, the book barely involves him so WHOOP let’s brush it off that way no effort has to go it like WHAT
everything about this series is just a travesty maybe it’s just the sheer amount of characters and plot but so much is being brushed to the side and its killing me
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The Empress - Day 4
Day 4: Femdom
Kayama Nemuri x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Kinks: Femdom, Collaring, Strap on Penetration, Dom/Sub
Notes: The banner was edited by me, photo can be found here. If you would like to be tagged in future fics of mine and writing events, comment with the url tag you would like me to use on this post!
Tags: @redbeanteax, @cherrycolabomb, @dabilove27, @aly-insanity, @khemz1312, @violeteyesandpurplehair, @mattiekins, @bnhaxxassociates, @winterpersimmons, @xkatiex, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @katsontherun, @smutbardpeach
✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵
Nemuri had some of the most breath taking eyes that you had ever seen. Expressive, vivid and crystalline blue, they were always enrapturing, hypnotic and could reel you in with little effort from her at all. But as she appraised you on your hands and knees, collar clasped around your neck attached to a leash clutched in her hand, you shuddered with desire. Dark purple-black hair fell gracefully down her back, framing her face, ruby red lips curled into a devious smile. In one easy motion, she crossed her legs, thigh high leather boots creaking with the movement. A soft chuckle bubbled in her throat before she gave a playful tug on your leash.
“Come to your mistress, gorgeous.”
Obediently you crawled forward, shuddering as she eyed you hungrily, full lower lip catching between her teeth. Sleek and powerful legs slid apart, revealing a large, azure blue strap on waiting for you. The cold steel clasp clinked against the hook on the front of your collar as Nemuri guided you between her legs. A soft hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face upwards and slowly urging you up so you were perched on your knees. A wet, pink tongue darted out to briefly lick at her lips, drinking in the sight of you eagerly.
“What a good girl.” She purred, tracing the curve of your mouth with her thumb, “So obedient for me-” her hand pulled your face forward until you were right in front of her strap on, “Go ahead and suck it.”
Obediently you closed your mouth around the tip, cool silicone rubber meeting your tongue. Knowing that your mistress was watching you closely, you started with little kitten licks, moistening the surface with your own saliva. Gradually you worked your way up, dragging your tongue along the underside, looking up at Nemuri as you did so. Vivid blue eyes burned brightly back at you, greedily drinking the sight of your obedient submission in. Warm fingers ghosted along your jawline, a quiet whisper of physical touch to encourage you further. Her silent praise pushed you to hollow out your cheeks, sucking and bobbing like she wanted.
“I bet you’re already soaked for me. You’re ready to have this thick strap on inside of you aren’t you?”
The way she murmured those words down to you sounded like velvet, pleasantly filling your ears as you continued to service her strap on. It pulled a low moan from your throat, muffled by the toy stuffed in your mouth. Nemuri chuckled before pulling you back, carefully controlled and guided by the leash. Eyes glinting, she sealed a kiss to your mouth, eagerly swallowing up your pleased moan and pressing her tongue past your parted lips. Ruby red lipstick smeared along your skin and mouth as she devoured you, her kiss rapidly growing more feral and ravenous. She moved with such passion and intensity against you, she robbed you of your breath, a fluttering thing that became trapped behind her teeth. When Nemuri finally pulled away, the two of you were panting.
“Now get on the bed, beautiful.” There was a sharp but playful tug on your leash, “I’m ready to fuck you with this big. Thick. Strap on. Until you’re screaming.”
God whenever she talked like that it was so damn hot. On wobbly legs, you made your way onto the bed, flopping onto your back, ready for her. Nemuri followed you immediately, slipping between your legs with a grin. She squeezed a generous amount of lubricant into her hand and coated it around the strap on. You clenched in anticipation. The pro hero winked at you and lined up the toy with your weeping entrance. Then with a smirk and one smooth motion, she thrust it into you. A hiss passed your lips before quickly melting into a groan, your muscles clenching tightly around the cool silicone. She begun her steady pace, dragging the strap on along your fluttering walls. All of your desire for her swelled, guiding your hands to tangle into her dark tresses. Beneath the pull of your arms, probing lips met yours, swallowing up your crescendoing cries.
Nemuri’s pace was rough and steady, her hips delivering powerful strokes to pull the maximum amount of pleasure with every movement. Warmth pooled in you, gathering rapidly beneath your skin until it swelled to near bursting. You shuddered and moaned, your juices leaking out to dampen the sheets, streaking along your skin. Then abruptly she slowed her pace, dragging the strap on tortuously along your walls.
“Ah, ah—” Nemuri pressed your hands into the mattress when you tugged on her hair, “—have some patience. Trust me, I’m going to make you feel amazing, gorgeous.”
You swallowed you desperate whine but nodded obediently. Your lover reached a hand between you and pressed a button on the side of the strap on. The toy rumbled to life with intense vibration, rocketing pleasure straight to your core. A howl tore past your lips, back arching off the bed in ecstasy as Nemuri reached all the right spots in you. She was very experienced when it came to the art of sex and she had the act of making love to you down to a damned art form.
“Come on!” she urged, “Louder for me! I want to hear you scream.”
A hand braced against the headboard while fingers buried themselves into your hair and pulled. The sting was pleasant and pleasurable, tantalizing your senses deliciously. You obeyed her command, moaning louder, as she railed into you. Nemuri freed her hand from your hair to slip down between the two of you. Startling precision led her fingers to your clit where she pinched the sensitive nub firmly. Heat lanced through you, white hot and blinding, banishing all cognitive thought. Your hips rocked, seeking the relief you craved so desperately. Brilliant blue pools bore down into you, tracking every flicker of feeling on your face so she could react accordingly.
“Oh god! Please, please I’m so close!” you keened and bucked and writhed, “Mistress pleaasssseeee!”
Nemuri moaned, “That’s a good girl. Cum for me. Cum for me sweetheart.”
The toy rumbled and shook while she continued to deliver powerful strokes deep into you. One well placed thrust summoned bursts of white stars behind your eyes and a howl tore from your throat. Your orgasm swallowed you, a crushing wave of desire as your vision swam. Fluids gushed from your pussy, drenching the strap on and smearing across Nemuri’s strong thighs as she fucked you through your climax. When she was done, the strap on was pulled out of you before she collapsed next to you, chest rising and falling quickly. A quiet but pleased hum escaped you as you snuggled in closer to her, bathed in a warm after glow.
“No round two then?” she laughed softly.
“Gimme a bit. I just want to be close to you…”
Nemuri happily wrapped her arms around you, “Of course. You did so good, gorgeous. And I’m sure you woke up the neighbors too!”
The sheer joy in her voice had you scoffing. She would be delighted by that thought, but you wouldn’t have her any other way.
#BNHA#BNHA Kinktober#Nemuri x Reader#Kayama Nemuri#BNHA reader insert#Kayama Nemuri x reader#my writing
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I've discovered that even if I don't like aspects of DreamSMP, the source content, the characters, or even story beats, the fandom always has my back.
The art? Always beautiful. Stunning. The amount of passion makes me blush.
The fanfiction? I've paid for books that brought me less joy than I get reading whatever wild AUs y'all have come up with
The cosplay?? I don't even enjoy cosplay that much but to see people having fun with it?! Yeah!!! You go!
I just adore this bubble of love and effort so much I can't help but gush
In fact, the only downside to the content. . . is the content. I get overwhelmed at times with the sheer enormity of the fanbase, but I have control over that to. I can close my phone or my computer and digest all these wonderful ideas. I can pace it however I wish; there's VODs and clip channels and Tumblrs dedicated to keeping everyone in the loop
I've never experienced anything like this before and I think it's remarkable
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Sol Film Festival Winner Time
And the winners are...
@sometimes-its-family for best art piece
@gregnas-the-grouch for best written piece
Congrats to the both of you! Please reach out to me to receive your prizes.
Everyone will be getting their write ups over the next few days. Thank you all again for entering. I had to make some painful choices regarding who won. At the end of each write up I will include 3 film recommendations.
sometimes-its-family
This won due to the sheer amount of effort. I mean fuck, you went and made an animatic for something that I never pressured anyone to do. I asked for a donut and you got me a baker’s dozen. That is a factor for why it had to win in my book.
As for my thoughts on the film, I never got the appeal of Treasure Planet. I know in the broader Disney canon it was not a critically acclaimed film and actually caused Disney in a rough financial bind after its release. Still it has this cult following I do but do not get. I just found most of it unmemorable in my book and the aesthetic of the setting kind of clashed hard with the pirate type story and aesthetics to an extent.
I do not deny the film is visually gorgeous with a bunch of small things; like the intro with the protag’s dad leave, the catlady captain and Captain Silver’s characterization do lead to things I can respect about the film.
Despite that, I could tell this submission was a labor of love like how this film was the director’s passion project that took a decade before it was allowed to be created. Mirroring how this project means a lot to you, which is something I respect. I can relate to having a father figure that you have complex feelings over. It brought to mind the stuff with my own dad and how he shaped me for good and for ill.
I admit I do not know you very well at all, but you made a hell of a first impression. So congrats you earned it.
Also for three films to recommend you I would like to suggest the following
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Bound
Tokyo Godfathers
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gregnas-the-grouch
I knew the moment you expressed interest in the competition I had a strong feeling you were going to pick this movie. From when we talk on film you have always mentioned this film as a point of favor. Which given your blog with its balance of horror and humor it fits like a glove.
My thoughts on the film is I like Army of Darkness. I saw it as my oldest cousin got me down the rabbit hole of cult horror films. Because of him I found out about stuff such as the Evil Dead trilogy, Mystery Science Theater, Dead Alive/Braindead and Clerks/the View Askew Universe. These films, despite being a mixed bag, were informative in my late teen years and was a key part in expanding my pallet and my sense of humor.
One thing I really liked about your submission is that it kind of encompasses your blog from when I followed you back at early college: sisyphean cosmic/spectral horror with a mix of humor.
One thing I still really look up to you for was when you wanted to hear out some criticisms I had of some of the humor stuff with Whisper. Bunnish served to be a the glue that bound us together so to speak and you actually took it to heart and it put me on your radar which was nuts for me since you were one of the blogs that got me into the scene.
It gave me the fiz seeing Gregnas back in action, even if in a non-canon sense. So congrats you could have chosen to not participate. But you are the king in your own way.
For your three films I recommend
Dead Alive/Braindead
The Ruling Class
In The Mouth’s of Madness
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the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark
theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]
The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!
[ masterpost for all chapters ]
CHAPTER 8 OF 22
And how impossible it still is: to train the heart to sit.
- "The Kindest Thing She Almost Did", Blythe Baird
--
The College of Arts’ student council has rotating schedules on who gets to organize the university-famous Halloween party. This year, it was the Literature Department and the Film Department that paired up to choose a theme, decorate, and make sure the party is getting smoothly—and the very specific, not-required but entirely funny, theme this year was “Film or Book that you’d love to be turned spooky, but isn’t exactly spooky.”
This is why she thought of coming in as characters from the Night Circus. The black and white stripes matched with red really gives off a very Halloween vibe to begin with, but all the circus-y magic that goes on in the book itself also makes it very viable for the spooky vibes.
She’s now standing in front of the College of Arts’ event hall, where the event is set to happen. She tugs at the locks of hair dangling at the side of her face, the ones she couldn't get to obey her planned updo, even with all the bobby pins.
There's something about scavenging a costume on your own that is so nerve-wracking. There's something more when you're portraying a character from a book someone introduced to you. It feels like it's a duty to get it right. She couldn’t find any entirely matching dresses in the thrift stores she went to, so this was the best she could do: some sort of modern but 1890s-inspired fortune teller mash-up of a costume. The dress was fashioned out of this dizzying deep blue-black velvet fabric, with little speckles of silver glitter like stars across it; she wore a striped black and white petticoat underneath it to give it some volume since the dress ended around the knees. She’d re-sewn the sleeves and the neckline to be similar to that of the era, revealing a nice V along her back and a nice, wide boat collar. Then, she’s put on a small, decorative hat with some red flowers on the corner of her head, and then draped a sheer black scarf with little rosy red designs on the ends over her shoulders. Then she put on some knee-high lace-up boots to add a little grunge to the entire attire. Lastly, she had a few Rider-Waite tarot cards in her pocket (The Chariot and Temperance) just for the vibe of it.
(All this costume preparation was really to wind herself down after submitting her initial requirements to the scholarship selection committee earlier that week.)
Just as she begins to spiral in her thoughts, “Sorry I’m late,” she hears Theo’s familiar voice call out, and she looks up from staring at her shoes and gasps out loud.
Theo’s wearing his hair a little curlier than usual, a lightly-tinted pair of green contacts on his eyes and—as he’s promised—a well-tailored suit, in black and white and red, to suit the general aesthetic of the circus itself. She figured he would come in a suit, but—she wasn’t expecting him to take the extra effort with the hair and the eyes, either. She could even see the little silhouette of a journal peeking from underneath his jacket—he’s obviously prepared even to the smallest details! Maybe, maybe he does look like the Marco in her head. Just a little. Maybe if his hair was darker. She finds herself staring at him for a ridiculous amount of time, so much so that he has to cough to get her attention again.
"The green eyes look lovely on you," she comments softly, hand curling up to gently press his finger at his cheekbone near instinctively, allowing her to observe his eyes better. Theo feels himself flinch in surprise, but he does not pull back.
"Thank you, grey-green was a very specific color."
She nods. "I do prefer your usual blue though." Her hand falls back to her side. "Too bad I can't magic it back?"
"You see it blue all the time. Stop complaining when this was your idea," Theo says, but he offers his arm anyway.
"So sour," she pouts. "How unbecoming of you, Mister Alisdair," she says, as she slides her arm into his.
Theo only snorts; he does not hide the half-smirk. "Only to match you, Miss Martin."
--
The event hall is lavishly decorated in some sort of spooky, old vampire mansion vibes, with all the matching spiders and fake candles. It is a little silly to see the DJ on the far end of the hall, with his set-up on top of what seemed like a desk older from three centuries ago. The caterers set up the food on a buffet table—also beautifully decorated, how many fine arts majors did the production team get to bully into helping them out?—to get it ready before dinner at six.
But the bar—the bar is open.
“Do you drink?” she asks casually, already one foot towards the bar.
He takes a nervous gulp she pretends not to notice. “Not a lot,” he answers.
“Then a glass will be alright. I told Arthur we’d meet at the bar. Come on!”
Because her college stupidly attempts to seem puritan, official drink menus are not allowed to actually say out loud that they contain hard liquor, so instead have really creative names. This time, they are references to different, random books and films, with fine-print descriptions of what it is. She orders a glass of Pride and Prejudice and Theo gets a serving of Kafka on the Shore. Both of them had just received their drinks when her phone begins to ring, and with a short excuse me she heads to a quieter part of the room and answers the call.
“Dazai?”
“Hello, Toshiko-san. I’m waiting outside the hall, but you’ve entirely forgotten that I haven’t actually met who I’m bringing in.”
Oh! “Well, I told him to wait on a stone bench there… Dark blue-ish hair, blue eyes, a mole on the side of his lip? He responds to ‘Arthur’.”
“‘Responds?’ Are your bookstore friends all a bunch of dogs?”
“Well, this drools at the sight of meat,” you say, unapologetically. “I didn’t see him there yet when I was still out, but—”
She hears a shuffle from the other side of the line, and Arthur’s familiar voice through the phone, a small “Hello, could you be Dazai?” and her friend’s very, very meaningful pause—she can almost see Dazai looking Arthur up and down—before he answers, “Yes, and you must be Arthur.”
The phone call ends and she grins for only a half a moment before realizing what she’d done.
She walks ever so slowly back to the bar, letting it sink in. But once she’s got her glass in her hand, she downs it in one go, surprising both the bartender and Theo. She shakes her head and then sits back down on the stool, half-laughing.
“Something happen?” Theo asks.
She groans. “I may have made a mistake with Arthur.”
Theo takes a sip of his drink, just the littlest bit smug. “Everything is a mistake if Arthur is involved.”
“I didn’t think he’d—”
“Hello, lovebirds,” says the devil, Arthur coming up behind them with—
With Dazai glued to his hip.
She’s known Dazai for a few years at this point, and because they’ve known each other for so long, there are little things she knows Dazai does that may not seem obvious to the onlooker.
First: Dazai is not fond of touching, but he is rather great at tolerating it. It usually takes a few months before Dazai is fine with being touched by someone. Even she took around half a year before Dazai would allow her to hug him freely. When he’s being touched by someone he does not particularly like, he clenches his hands and fits them into his pockets, so it’s not as noticeable.
Observer’s note: Arthur’s got his hand around Dazai’s waist. Dazai’s hands are wide open, resting at his hip.
Second: Dazai is also good at having his practiced smile. He says he practices it in the mirror, did it every day for a year until it became natural to him; it looks genuine and otherwise believable, that is, if you haven’t seen his actual smile. And even if you have, sometimes it’s still hard to tell. His actual, genuine smile, that goes up to his eyes, crinkling the sides of it, and he flushes sometimes too; it’s so wide it reveals the little dimple on his cheek.
Observer’s note: Dazai’s dimple is very, very visible right now.
Third: Dazai has this thing where the longer he considers a person, the less he becomes attracted to them, for some reason, even if the extended thinking time only makes him feel like they’re a better match by the second. Dazai is only genuinely, passionately, instantly attracted to people he knows will pose him some sort of danger and excitement.
Observer’s note: Dazai met Arthur today.
She bites back the groan that’s bubbling out her throat and grins. “Hello, Arthur, Dazai. Having fun?”
“Where’d you been hiding this cutie all this time?” Arthur teases, squeezing Dazai closer to him. “Much fun now that he’s here. I see you’ve started drinking ahead of us.”
“Just a little,” she says. “Shall we find a table?”
The four of them choose a table in the middle of the chaos—Arthur’s suggestion—somewhere midway the bar and buffet. The tables are for six, and the number makes her remember.
“I couldn’t get Isaac to come.”
Dazai shakes his head. “I told you he said he wasn’t interested. Must be working overtime like he usually does.” He nods towards her direction. “Good attempt, though.”
She frowns. “He should really let loose sometimes… I know he’s good at what he does, but a little, one-night-a-year party isn’t going to hurt him is it?”
“Ohoho, what’s this, have another cute friend I have to know?” Arthur interrupts.
Dazai taps Arthur’s nose gently and she wants to vomit. What has she done. “Isaac Newton, a Ph.D. student from the physics department. Too serious for his own good.”
Surprise fills Arthur’s face. “My, isn’t that Newt? Teaches classes sometimes?” She and Dazai nod. “Small world!”
“Next year we’re really finding a way to drag him in,” she says.
To which Dazai laughs, “you won’t be here next year, Toshiko-san.”
There’s a small sliver of silence that settles in between them, just long enough to be felt but not for the conversation to come to an abrupt halt. It makes Theo flinch a little.
“Then it’s up to you guys, isn’t it?” she takes her second glass of literary cocktail—she doesn’t even know what’s in this one, just pointed at the menu, it was titled Wolf Totem—and downs half of it in one go.
“Maybe if a girl came around to bring him, he’d be more persuadable,” Arthur teases, “Look at my chap Theo over here.”
“So you’re Theo, huh?” Dazai purrs. She throws a glare at him that goes ignored. “Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Theo only nods as a response and she takes the chance to get the conversation back in a direction that makes her a little safer from their teasing. “But no, really, Isaac? Coming for a girl? You don’t know him at all, Arthur.”
“Oh, even the toughest guys fall back to romance, don’t they, Theo?”
Theo throws a glare towards Arthur; it is shrugged off as the newly-formed suddenly-a-couple laughs in unison.
--
Despite the ruckus, the four of them still have some good fun at the party. Arthur Arthur’s non-stop insisting that they play the party games has them rewarded with many things: a stupid award here or there, minuscule amounts of cash that could be used in the future for dine-outs, and even a nice bottle of high-end “water”—it was definitely vodka, the organizers just couldn’t announce it out loud. She and Dazai had to stand up a couple of times to go meet their college-mates in their department, but the four of them stayed mostly together until past dinner—that is until the dance music started to rev up, getting ready for the long night ahead.
“Excuse the two of us, we’re going to do some actual dancing, like people do at parties to have fun,” Arthur says, but his face is already littered in glitter from the poppers and his face is dusted pink from all the alcohol. Obviously, dancing isn’t required to have fun at all. Taking Dazai’s hand like a gentleman, sliding his arm around the other man’s waist, Arthur makes a comical bow to which she makes a face. The two disappear into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, and the sight of them so obsessed with each other makes her lean back on her chair to take a sip on her—fifth? Sixth? Ah, who is counting?—nth glass of alcohol.
Wary of being the killjoy, Theo gently asks, “Don’t you want to dance?”
“I mean… you don’t want to, do you?” she asks, facing him properly, glass still in hand. “I just felt like it’d be great to hang out with you here and if you’re not up for dancing…”
“If you want to we should go.”
“I’m not going if you’re forcing yourself to.”
“No, I’m not, so—”
“Theo, sit down!” she says, laughing. The alcohol’s given her skin a beautiful pink flush, and her smiles have turned wider, more relaxed. “It’s okay, I promise. Just sit here and drink your—drink. It’s just nice to have company.”
He nods as she turns back to watching the crowd. A smile still settles on her face as she watches the mass of people dancing and shouting to the music. Theo asks, “Do you always go here with someone?”
She shrugs, taking another sip from her glass. “I came alone the first time, and then the next I went with Dazai. He’s pretty popular—when he’s alone, without anyone slung on him, you know? Lots of people dance with him.”
“And you?”
“Me?” she asks, forehead wrinkling. “I’m normal. I sit and drink until my liver begs me to stop. And then dance until my legs beg me to stop when I’m drunk enough.”
He scoffs, but only in that friendly way of defeated acceptance. “Sounds like fun.”
“So much more fun with you around though,” she asserts, tilting her glass to him. “Cheers?”
“For what?”
And she’s quiet for a moment, before she raises her glass again, saying, “To friendship and literature, of course.”
Theo thinks that’s good enough. They clink their glasses gently and then drink.
For the slightest of moments, Theo considers asking the one question that had been on his mind since she invited him to the party. Preparing the clothes to wear to the event only made his curiosity even stronger, but at the same time, he didn’t feel like he had the right to ask. Theo feels content sitting in his uncertainty, the mystery of it hanging in the air.
But the alcohol has made him a little more courageous.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot!”
“Why didn’t you go as Celia?”
It’s common for a pair of people to attend a costume party in matching outfits with characters that are paired as well. Celia is Marco’s natural pair in the book. Isobel is not. Why didn’t she go as Celia? Theo would not have minded if she did. Celia was fiery and romantic and could see through Marco’s every disguise.
And Isobel longed and longed and never got what she wanted.
“I kind of felt for Isobel, you know?” she answers, in that hesitant way that makes the asker wonder if it’s because of the embarrassment or because of the half-lie. “She was running away, after all. Didn’t you say that was what I was so fixated on?”
And Isobel is only the circus because she was the way for Marco to get to who he loved. Even before he knew who he loved.
“Wouldn’t have expected that from you,” Theo remarks, taking out his little Marco-journal to dust it away idly. “You seem like the type who always feels extensively for the protagonists.”
It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but then, suddenly, her eyes widen brightly. She puts down her glass and quickly swipes the journal Theo kept with him before pulling him up by the wrist. “C’mon, let’s do the photo booth?”
“What?” Theo staggers up. Why so suddenly? “Who’ll watch over the table?”
She places her little hat on the table. “That’ll save it, let’s go.”
Theo can feel his pulse thrumming under his wrist where she’s holding on to him. Theo does not have the will to argue as she drags him to the makeshift studio on the far end of the hall. Instead, he focuses on her—the way her hair’s held up in an intricate braided bun on her head, the fall of her dress over her shoulders, the feeling of his hand around his arm.
She’s such a weird girl, he thinks.
When they get to the end of the line—a short one, bless the universe—she takes out the two tarot cards in her pocket and hands them to him.
“Switch props for the photo,” she explains.
When they get to the photo booth, they opt for two photos; one for her to keep, and another for Theo. They don't even bother with the poses, both half-drunk, holding up their character props as the cameraman fixes the shot. She settles, standing by his side, arms twined, head leaning toward him as the camera flashes once. And Theo can’t help himself when he turns to face her because of that, and before he knows it—the camera flashes once more.
She’s too far into her drinks to have time to think why Theo’s so concerned about seeing the photos first and choosing which one he wants to keep for himself.
--
It is just a little past midnight when she, Theo, Arthur, and Dazai hop out of the hall. She insisted that it would be better to wait until the end of the night before leaving—making most of the ticket, or something—and the most that they had gotten out of that was a free coupon to a fast-food chain.
That, and this:
She’s half-slung over Theo when she yells at Arthur and Dazai, who are very obviously becoming a little too comfortable with each other, handsy as they huddle together. She shouts: “Jesus, guys, get off each other!”
“Hmm? Right now? Sure, we’d love to, if you don’t mind—”
“NO! NO NOT LIKE THAT!” she yells, pushing away from Theo to nudge Arthur away from Dazai. The new lovebirds just laugh mildly at each other as she huffs and frowns, falling back into step next to Theo. “Oh god, I’ve made the worst mistake of my life.”
“Best mistake of my life,” Dazai says with a slurred laugh, leaning against Arthur. She makes a gagging motion, to which Theo snorts.
Relative to everyone else’s lodging in the university, the van Goghs’ apartment is the one closest to the hall, so the four of them make their way to it, drunk feet stumbling on uneven pavements all the way there. Arthur and Dazai are walking ahead of them—Theo doesn’t know how Arthur knows where he lives, not when he’s never brought him there; that’s a question for a more sober time—and she and Theo walk side-by-side a few feet behind.
She’s not entirely drunk, no, but she’s a little closer to drunk than tipsy, and it shows when she speaks. “Did you have fun today, Theo?” she asks, ignoring the little misstep her conversation has cost her.
Theo has his hands in his pockets, but they’re only seconds away from grabbing her by the arm to steady her. Any minute now. “It was okay.”
She grins. “Great! That’s all I want.” She looks back up in front of them, and Arthur throws one glance upon hearing their conversation, but then quickly looks away. “It’s kinda, uuuuh,” she squints, the words lost. “Different, to hang out with you with ‘thur and ‘zai around.”
See, this is exactly why Theo capped himself off at three drinks. Look—he’s long accepted his less than average tolerance, but to have to babysit a group of drunk college kids… “Bad different?”
“Nuh-uh,” she says. “Jus’ different. Used to only us. ‘t’s nice being alone with ya.”
I don’t want to take care of a drunk you on my own, she hears in her head, and she isn’t quite sure if Theo had actually said it or if it was just a figment of her imagination.
Soon enough, the four of them stumble onto the van Gogh’s front porch, Theo just not-drunk enough to get the key in through the hole. With a click, the four of them are greeted by the bright light of the living room. Arthur must have been the one that hissed. They stagger in, Dazai slamming onto the sofa, Arthur right after him, and she, heading to the refrigerator for some water.
Theo disappears for a moment to check on Vincent in the studio and to tell him that he’s brought his unfortunate group of friends to sober up, and it’s a good thing the drunkards aren’t around with him because the brightness of Vincent’s smile would have knocked them right out.
“I’ll go take a shower,” Theo announces to no one in particular, shouting down the hall as he disappears into his shared bedroom with Vincent. She tries not to think of what that would look like, blaming her wandering thoughts on the alcohol. She’s about on her second glass of water when she spots Vincent headed to the kitchen.
She beams. “Vin-ny~” she reaches out to him and Vincent catches her before she falls.
“Did you have fun at the party?” Vincent asks, half-laughing, as he helps her to sit on the counter—which was what she was trying to do. “How much did you drink?”
She raises her hands up to her face and tries to count, fully knowing she stopped counting after the second glass. “Enough to make me happy,” she answers instead, smiling dumbly at the older van Gogh. “Theo was so grumpy.”
“He was so excited to go, though,” Vincent says, standing next to her. Of course he has no qualms ratting on his younger brother like that. “You should have seen him, preparing for his costume. Did he look just as you imagined?”
“…And better,” she admits, before taking a sip of the water again to sober up a little more. The ice in the glass is helping her brain to chill. “I’m not sure if he had fun, though. I feel kind of bad.”
Vincent hums. “He looks like he had fun. He wouldn’t have brought you guys here otherwise.”
“You think so?” she asks, eyes wide. The blond man laughs.
“I know so.”
By the time Theo comes out of the shower, he’s a little more dressed down, in jeans and a button-up shirt. He looks at Arthur and Dazai, both already long out like a light on the couch, and sighs.
“I suppose you’re sleeping here too,” he asks, looking toward her. She shoots him an awkward grin.
“She can sleep on my bed,” Vincent offers, but Theo shakes his head.
“She can sleep on mine. You sleep on your bed tonight, Vincent. I can sleep in the studio. I’ll just pass by the drugstore a few blocks down for some…” he frowns at Arthur and Dazai, “…Ibuprofen, for tomorrow.”
“Take care on your way out,” Vincent answers, taking a scan at Theo up and down to see if he’s sober enough to go out. Theo really didn’t drink a lot—purposefully, he knew this was going to happen—so he’s standing pretty straight. He nods and makes his way out, the door closing with a gentle click.
After that, she slouches next to Vincent, like she was just holding herself up to seem a little put together for Theo. Vincent pats her on the head gently, like a little child.
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
She sniffles a little, looking down at her shoes. “I was just thinking h’much I’ll miss this.”
“Are you going away?”
“Maybe,” she says, idly. “I want to. Don’t want to. Want to.”
Vincent smiles, the kind of disappointed-but-not-surprised, non-judgmental, gentle smile of an older brother one would give to a younger sibling. Carefully, he hooks her arm around his shoulders, saying, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” as he leads her to his shared room with Theo. She is pliant in his arms, legs wobbling but still planted with a balance onto the floor.
The costume she’s in doesn’t look entirely too comfortable to sleep in, so he offers her a loose shirt and some sweatpants to change into. It takes her two minutes too long to fumble into them, but right before he begins to get worried that she’s gotten stuck in the fabric, she knocks at the door to tell Vincent she’s done. He walks in with a glass of water.
“One last before you sleep,” he says, assisting her in drinking. “I hope you don’t have a headache tomorrow.”
But she’s intoxicated, and her brain doesn’t follow along with Vincent, so as she’s drinking the water her eyes are wandering the walls, where various canvases are hung. All of them are Vincent’s, and most of them are unframed, and perhaps have never been seen by anyone besides Vincent and Theo. Once the glass is empty, she turns to Vincent with a glazed look in her eye.
“Do you think there’s going to be something greater for us outside of this place?”
He blinks, taken off guard. She has officially transitioned from clingy, whiny drunk, to having an existential crisis, philosophical drunk. He only laughs lightly, placing the glass on the bedside table as he coaxes her into bed, tucking her under the blanket.
“I sure do hope so.”
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New Years 2020 Positivity!
@xauramoon - I’m still trying to gather my words after earlier, but let me just say I was really really excited to see you on the dash again. Back on my old blog I remembered you being a really positive influence and someone with a lot of integrity and kindness. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you would still remember me or even want to interact but your words really showed why I thought so highly of you and still do. Every thing you said about me, I could say about you - you’re always someone who’s quick to uplift and encourage others and truly a positive force in the RPC and just yet another reminder of why I love roleplaying so much and the Tumblr RPC as a whole. Because I get to meet amazing people like you.
@princess2x4 - I’ve always loved just the sheer amount of effort that has gone into your blog, like how much thought and detail you’ve put into her, the art for her! Ashura has always been a muse I’ve been very much interested in and I feel like our threads are always exciting because every time I get to learn a little bit more about her and about the world she inhabits. As a mun, you’re also extremely nice and pleasant to talk to and someone I have a lot of genuine admiration for. I wish you only good things for 2021!
@regledesflorale - I was honestly really glad to hear from you again, it’s always good to hear from muns or even old friends you haven’t interacted with in a while! I hope everything has been going well for you and the new year will be very good to you! Here’s hoping we get a chance to write together!
@eris-the-phantom-thief - I think it’s really cool how dedicated you are to Hana, how much fanart you do of her! It’s honestly good to see your passion for her remains as strong as ever! Thanks for supporting and sticking up for both of us!
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