#if i could pick a consistent way to draw the cat power-up that would be great

[angelxd-3303]

Hey! um... is it weird that I want to see more Mario and DK content now?

Not at all, I think I can speak for everyone when I say that I didn't expect the Kongs to be my favorite part of the movie, but here we are!

#traditional art #luigi #mario #donkey kong #mario movie #he gots them kitties #if i could pick a consistent way to draw the cat power-up that would be great #why are apes so hard to draw for meeee😭

[worldunbent]

well my volunteer shift for tonight got cancelled so i'm starting my natsuyuu reread with volume 1... it's been years since i read the early volumes (and it's my first time reading the official translations) so this is basically a brand new experience.

getting used to the rather plot-heavy past 40 or so chapters and then just jumping back to the beginning is a bit of a trip. the pacing of the series has evolved so smoothly and slowly that you don't notice it in process, but the difference becomes way more obvious once you travel back 120+ chapters. that's not a knock on the early chapters at all, because i think they're all fantastic standalone stories. they're just so different from the current series!

but despite all that, the themes are extremely consistent and i kept getting surprised at how many moments in these first four chapters can be connected with a straight line all the way to the present.

chapter 1

i'm going to restrain myself and not laugh at every early nyanko. his design had charm! it's just so different from his current look!

Sensei: I've spent such a long time in that ceramic cat that my body's gotten used to it. My true form is very graceful and elegant, you know. Natsume: Oh yeah?

it’s soooo cute that it takes approximately 2 minutes for natsume to start treating nyanko like an actual cat.

Sensei: Reiko couldn't get along with humans. So she started to pick on yokai. She bullied them into duels and crushed them. She was born with substantial mystical powers. She made them promise that the winner would get power over the loser, and then had them write their names down to ensure their obedience. This book is the collection of those names. Natsume: So... why do you want it, Nyanko sensei?

reiko’s methods of defeating youkai are very… prosaic lol. this could be because this is essentially a pilot chapter and midorikawa hadn’t fully developed the worldbuilding rules, but i also wonder if we can justify this with her “substantial mystical powers.” she can accomplish with a baseball bat or her foot what exorcists need elaborate rituals to do. or it could just be the terms of her duels! also, the “kick me” panel cracks me up.

HMM... i started to write something up on this but i think i need to return to it later.

Sensei: It's easy to do, but many yokai are vicious. You won't last long. I'd advise against it. Natsume: I'll be fine. I have you, sensei. Sensei: Say what?! Natsume: I didn't want to get involved... but I kind of owe it to [text is cut off]. If I end up dying partway through, the Book of Friends will be yours. Please, sensei. Will you help me out?

natsume is super quick to propose a partnership with nyanko and begin relying on him. again, this about economical pilot writing, but it’s still interesting when you compare it to the pacing of other relationships.

Sensei: ....Are you sure? I can have the Book when your life ends? Natsume: Yeah, I'm sure...

the shoujo bubbles showing up here are. so

“I bet she was waiting… for the yokai to come find her, to get their names back. As many as she could find. And the yokai felt lonely being no more than one of many…” this reminds me of hinoe in the most recent reiko-centric chapter, but more generally, complicated bonds of loyalty and servitude, reciprocal and nonreciprocal, seem to be some of midorikawa's favorite dynamics to draw on. putting a pin in this.

chapter 2

this touko is so cute. shigeru is a nonentity in the first volume.

you may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like

Sensei: Bad dream? Natsume: Because you were on me! Sensei: You must've left yourself vulnerable. Weakness lures demons. They take advantage of it. Be strong if you don't want to get eaten.

madara brings up survival of the fittest mentality for the first time, which is another consistent theme - the value of individual strength vs sharing your struggles with others. but the latter hasn’t really been addressed as an option yet! natsume kind of speedran thru part of this by enlisting nyanko as his bodyguard, but it will take him a lot longer to start learning to share burdens with other humans, or to allow the emotional vulnerability aspect to enter into it.

Natsume: I'll come to worship you. I can't promise to come every day, but I'll bring you offerings. Shrine god: You can't, Natsume. You're my friend.

this chapter hits very hard for me in general, but especially this exchange. the first volume of full of relationships with marked power dynamics, but now we finally get some friends. weh.

no specific screenshot for this, but i get a bit emotional reading midorikawa’s sidebar notes. i don’t know how old she was when she started writing natsuyuu, but it’s 20 years younger than she is now. i wonder if she still has the same editor she’s talking about in these notes!

WELL MAYBE. weh!!

chapter 3 natsume’s flashbacks to the various youkai he encountered as a child are way creepier than i remembered. screenshots not included due to image limit, but midorikawa has been good at conveying unease very quickly from the very beginning.

Natsume: Oh boy...

speaking of unease, panels like these are why i felt the need to use screenshots economically. tanuma bb you have come so far. i love the lighting in the center top panel.

another thing i love is midorikawa's assistants getting feature sidebar panels, which again i didn't screenshot because i was worried about running out of images for this post. but they're great.

Natsume: I'm sorry, can we do this later? Misuzu: Are you busy? Sensei: Exorcising humans. Natsume: Sensei! Misuzu: Oh? Then allow me, Misuzu, to help. It would be dull to never serve my master. And you saved one of my own servants earlier. Natsume: The frog... Sensei: No good deed goes unpunished. Natsume: You be quiet, Sensei.

misuzu’s introduction brings back the theme of servitude and mutual loyalty. i also completely forgot that misuzu’s introduction was tied to tanuma’s, something that will come back up like... 95 chapters from now. i am frequently surprised by basic narrative consistency.

natsume and tanuma are able to connect so quickly and again i wonder if midorikawa would have paced things differently if she’d known how long this series would last. but i’m not saying that as a criticism - the way they’re immediately drawn to each other is an important contrast to other dynamics that come up later.

chapter 4

Natsume (in narration): This might take a while... Natsume (speaking): Kitamoto, have you heard of Futaba village? Kitamoto: Hmm? My dad's from there. Natsume (in narration): What?! Kitamoto: Most of the people relocated around here. I've heard the name Taniozaki, so I'll ask my dad tonight.

another thing i forgot is that kitamoto and nishimura have always been here! for some reason i remembered them joining the cast later on, but they’ve been there from the start, even before they're named. kitamoto’s name does come up for what i think is the first time in this chapter, and i love how willing he is to help natsume, no questions asked.

i like this chapter a lot, but don't have much to say about it because it's such a standalone.

Youkai: We dance, drink, and gamble. There's a race where the prize is a yukata that allows the winner to take human form for one night. Natsume: What? Youkai: It's a whole night of carousing and frolicking. Natsume: What did you say?

the one thing i do want to point out is that's it's interesting that we have youkai getting agency over when they are seen! it's usually left up to the humans, regardless of whether the youkai would like to be seen or not.

#natsuyuu.txt #this is very stream of consciousness soz

[multifairyus]

Genuine question about the Legendborn series do you know how many books are set to be in the series ? Or is that it just those two that have come out ? Also if someone wanted to get into the series how would you persuade them to read it?

The Appeal of the Legendborn Cycle Series

According to Deon’s website, it was planned as a trilogy…the wording makes me hold out hope for more books, especially since it was announced in February that we’re getting a TV series

Onto how I’d persuade them to read it: whew boy do I have THOUGHTS

Tl; dr:

1. Magic system is enhanced by being grounded in reality; the book itself stays grounded by being easy to read while maintaining mystique and intrigue

2. Complex character interactions that arise naturally from strong characterizations and a dynamic plot allow for compelling love interests/a believable love triangle.

3. Themes of grief, identity, heritage, and agency are elevated by the unique perspective of a teenage black girl in the American south.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

• It’s a YA book, young adult. IDK how old you are or the people you wanna persuade. Most people stop reading before finishing high school and aren’t likely to pick up books that a) require a lot of background/genre knowledge to understand b) dense syntax and complicated plots. The Legendborn Cycle (TLC) being YA counters both of these issues. It’s audiobook is an excellent way to consume it, since ~500 pages is a big ask for people who aren’t readers all. Emotive with distinctive character voices.

• TLC subverts and/or reimagines major writing tropes in a way that is satisfying and compelling, not just as a “gotcha” to shock the audience. Getting into HOW exactly is major spoiler territory, but in general you could mention secret magical societies, lines of succession, love triangles, magic systems…you can’t build a story without tropes, but using them in interesting ways is how you circumvent it being cookie cutter.

• Very solid worldbuilding. It’s Urban Fantasy without forgetting the “Urban” part. While the plot doesn’t focus much on Onceborns, the fact that TLC touches on how a magical institution would last for centuries as a secret keeps things grounded without getting bogged down with worldbuilding details that don’t come into play later. Getting into Bloodmarked is spoiler territory…but you could mention how TLC has draws analogies between the consolidation, conservation, and enforcement of power within the Legendborn world and within real life society. That’s the focus in the first book. The second book sets up main characters to have even more dynamic character arcs as their worldview expands alongside the reader.

• Thus far, nothing feels like fluff or filler. All the worldbuilding, character dynamics/interactions, and plot threads are followed through, or set up for something later on. Callbacks and echos galore. Lots of rereading value.

• Bree, Nick, and Sel’s relationships are interesting BECAUSE of the plot, not the other way around. Their feelings for each other are informed by revelations in what they do *outside* of pining for each other. The “insta first love golden retriever” Nick and “secretly dedicated argumentative black cat” Sel have more depth than those tropes would imply. The same traits that manifest as romance to Bree, but look different to side characters—and especially to each other—while still being consistent overall. The fact that the two HAVE so much history with each other is entirely because of plot reasons, which means it will always carry weight in how they interact with each other and with Bree. You can argue that one romance is more compelling than the other (I am an unabashed Brelwyn/BreeSel endgame shipper) but you can’t argue that there is an actual dilemma for the main character, Bree—which is all that matters for a compelling love story, triangular or otherwise. AND it doesn’t subsume the whole plot—it’s adventure first and a romance second with plenty of room to fill in details yourself.

Okay I think that’s a good enough answer to your question without straight up ranting about how much I love this damn book series lol. Hope that was helpful!

#legendborn #the legendborn cycle #bloodmarked #askme #omg can you tell this is my first one #shiii got me blushin and everything you want MY opinion? #be careful what you ask for cuz I won’t shut up about this #book review

[sugar-petals]

sub!Yuzu | nsfw alphabet

🌹 NOTE ⇢ content for our fave figure skater, the legend himself. mr. yuzuru hanyu is 1000% dom candy and i’m here to honor it at length ⛸

— WORDS. 5k

tags + warnings. dom/sub dynamics, femdom!reader, role reversal hc, smut, kinks, cum play, spanking, sex toys, very freaky yuzu, kitten play, mdlb, crying kink, food play, prostate orgasms, bondage, some deeper stuff & angsty bits, asthma mention, aftercare

  A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Once the cat ears come off, who is Yuzuru Hanyu not to remain in character for a while. For the shits and giggles, and because it’s cozy. Once a catboy, always a catboy, it’s the law of the land. Curling up, kneading at you for the head pats and massages, you know the programme. 

Also: Yuzu is famously soft-spoken and always finds the right thing to say. So, stimulating conversation for the cooldown. This is literally so nice. He’s unafraid to reflect everything in detail, say what he preferred, what you could change up together, what he wants to try next. The afterglow is not just physical, as in you give him something to drink, it’s 70% verbal which is very important to him as a consistent habit.

Of course, not to forget: Always gotta have a Winnie Pooh plushie ready. He embraces it readily and, as we know him, does some roleplay right then and there. Yuzu, professional cutiepie he is, is the kinda sub who treats all plush and pillow stuff as alive and breathing. You as his domme are in on the play and also treat his things as holy as they are to him. That Yuzu lets you into that world is the biggest compliment you can possibly get. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Yuzu’s godly ass and thighs. Or the staggering waist and beautiful black hair that makes him a total bombshell in his classic comb-back styles. His face is soft and expressive and so damn unique, his legs muscular and long, his back and tummy chiseled, the list goes on and on. Jesus, he has so many great features. All body parts a masterpiece. That are all capable of god-tier contortionism on top of that, gotta mention it in passing. Just so you know if you haven’t seen him bend his every limb into directions you wouldn’t believe are humanly possible. 

Interestingly though. If he chooses, Yuzu picks his feet: They are his most important instrument and weak spot. His ankles are where the magic happens. So, you taking care of them a little would mean the world to him, imagine a candle light massage. Not to worry, no-gross-alert. Yuzu has perfect and cute feet. That’s gonna be a Victorian moment, oh my god I saw his ankles. For his partner, short and simple: He likes a shoulder to lean on. He loves being touchy in general, all body parts are amazing to him. Being in a profession that’s all about the physics, Yuzuru knows about the wonders of the body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Certified king of cumsluts, doesn’t even hesitate. The more, the merrier. If he’s not covered in sticky stuff, Yuzu would be underchallenged. It’s less about the taste, texture or any degradation, for him it’s the playing around with his tongue. Somebody wants his mouth preoccupied. Give the cat his milk. Feed him his own cum mixed with yours. He’s gonna lap at it and swallow.

Since Yuzu’s dream is a mommy domme baking him something, he just loves the smell of dough and hazelnuts and cinnamon and everything — you know what’s coming: Imagine the food play. Nuts indeed. Anything that even remotely looks like a creampie is something he wants to get his lips on. And Yuzu is not the type to be a foodie at all, let that sink in. Sexual-looking food is just too big a temptation, though. And you spoiling him that way... oh my. Surefire way to end up in bed right after. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a butt plug collection. Once almost went on the ice with one in. The more you know. Also— this guy is the kinda type fantasizing to get absolutely railed on a bed of plushies. He has troubles suggesting it to you because he doesn’t want them to get actually dirty. But the idea gets the two of you kind of horny. Sometimes, a thought is better as a fantasy than actually executing it. You can use it for riling up’s sake, whispering it to him during dirty talk. How you’ll bounce on him and ruin him and milk him while he’s splayed out so innocently on your bed. I smell corruption kink. 

Another secret Yuzu keeps is just how much he changed his mind about wanting his partner to control everything in bed. He grew up with a pre-defined ideal type of a cute, nice skater girl who’d let the reins very loosely around him, who he can speak Japanese to because he had problems with English, who is small and someone he will protect. It wasn’t something based on experience and trying things out: It was simply expected of him. People wanted the domineering Yuzuru on ice to be that way in private, and make use of his power, be a man, savior, boss. 

The reality being: He never felt truly as tough on the ice, nor was he gender-conforming in person. In fact, that is what he became famous for, and it reassured Yuzuru very often how people would accept and actually celebrate this side of him. Which is so refreshing, and a sight to see. The side that was dorky, clingy, childish, gorgeous, and cute has always been there, but now he embraces it more as his comfort place. He has to know what he’s doing in his skating programme and show competitive spirit to achieve his dreams, but that’s where it stops.

His former ideals are something people wanted to hear, it was an adaptation of the environment rather than thinking it through on his own. So, years later — oh boy have things changed. Yuzuru no longer defines his ideal type that way, saying whoever he likes is someone he’d be with. What was a fantasy template and filter is now gone and adapted to his newfound, own preferences. Yuzu is comfortably open-minded rather than being a copy to mainstream. He found fun in speaking English, opened up to the world at large, had more girls around him who he could befriend, grew more confident in his stature, and is well aware — turns out he’s the cute one. Who needs to be taken under a wing. He likes strong-minded girls and says if he had a wife, she’d dominate him. Yuzuru secretly wants her to be in charge entirely, she owns his body and soul. Not in daily life where things are just normal and everyone goes about their business. Sexually, where he surrenders instead, and is taken care of.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The tale of an introvert. What he knows — he hides it well. Has eyefucked a whole lot of people and is the type to lust like mad from a far distance, and nobody will ever know. Crushes harder than peppercorns in a mill. If he loves someone, it lingers in his mind every split second of the day, may god have mercy on him. And if you know him: Yuzu aims too high to keep it light and easy and clumsy. He hates being an amateur, he’s terrified of starting out something. He dreads not knowing what to do, how exactly to behave, talk, touch, breathe, respond, negotiate, prepare. That’s a hundred percent like hell to him.

Ironically, he has a natural feeling for it and he’s literally amazing in bed, has a sense for social interaction is all the way cute with something valuable to say. But what he believes is something way different. Yuzuru is a diehard, nervous perfectionist. He can only think of it as a rated performance since his mind usually has to work that way to skate well. His esteem is on a knife edge depending on how well he thinks he does. So, the inevitable: He will shy away from sex altogether. He draws immense skating passion from staying celibate, in fact it’s his success secret, but it still eats him up from the inside and makes him frustrated beyond measure. Not even for the pleasure, since he’s so ambitious that’s almost forgotten about, but for being told he did well. 

That’s how much he believes sex is a drill and capability test. And it’s sad that he thinks it’s like his skating career, racking up points for the impossible things judges want and being in a deadlock when it comes to showing his artistic side. He feels thrown into cold water if he doesn’t know everything beforehand. If he ever works up the courage, which probably won’t happen, he will pay an expert to learn from rather than let something all over the place happen with a random person or even someone he might like. 

Yes, you heard that right. He’d rather see a sex worker than ‘mess up’ his first time according to his sky-high standards. So, Yuzu’s experience remains limited since he’s so 100% do or die, and so anxious, and so torn about social interaction, he doesn’t get how his peers can be playboys and get married and flirt with someone they like and all that. He sort of has an easier time with guys, but girls... he can’t approach. To top it off, he also feels like he’d burden his first time one somebody or embarrasses himself, so he will reject and avoid suitors. Those are usually not the people he crushes so hard on to begin with. It’s bound to be one-sided and he knows, so he will abstain and focus on career and use the cheers of his fans as a substitute.

Truth is, he feels helpless and distant from sex sometimes, especially with his practice-heavy lifestyle and hyper-smart mind, Yuzuru has an intelligence that exceeds what most people can grasp. He’s alone on the ice and Brian as a coach is often the only reference person who truly gets him, and leads him well without being controlling. But that’s professional life. Sexually, Yuzuru is metaphorically: coachless. He surely observed it well when Javier (the #1 ladies man, his opposite) was still active and a social butterfly helping him fit in, but Yuzu would always be worried about his extreme fame and spotless image when introduced to someone fangirling over him. He’d rather prefer someone who comes across as a mentor and solid, loyal-to-death person to look up to. So he would do anything to have someone benevolent like that. Most girls would expect him to be the sex god and expert, but he knows that’s only half of the story and based on his characters on the ice. Yuzu crafts these to counterbalance how he really is — withdrawn and indirect. 

Yuzu is extremely calculating and selective, he scans suitors well, protects his reputation, and is mortified of failure. So, he’d rather learn it by the book and from someone he’s not emotionally attached to. In a one-night stand that might also be the case, but he doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s absolutely terrified of sudden sexual vulnerability. He himself often says he values his own struggle between feeling so weak and being strong again 

Besides: He’d have problems squeezing hookups into his schedule and lifestyle, he’d have to cut down on things and create a double life. Plus, Yuzu is famously inept with social interaction up close, he flees the noise and unpredictability. So, it’s better to have a long-term partner. If he doesn’t know something yet, he has it down in one day like the single axel. Definitely counts on his partner teaching him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

We know Yuzu’s signature move is the lean-back Ina Bauer. So, whatever position allows for an arch is the real deal (cough, taking the strap — oh my god his ass is made for it). But anyway, he can pull off anything with that stellar flexibility and core strength. 

If I think about it. Yuzu might like sitting on your lap very much. I know it’s not a sex position, I mean it can be once his inner lapdancer awakens or you use a strap-on, I rather mean... just for some sweet moments and making out. But yeah: Fathom Yuzu gyrating on your like that. Not in an outright lascivious manner or Chippendales style. The Hanyu way, with embellishments and all the grace. This is gonna be a huge turn-on and perfect foreplay position.  

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not much to elaborate here: Yep, Yuzu is true goofball indeed. Really flustered and clumsy when eye-to-eye in missionary, and yet: He’s ultra serious towards the end, there’s gonna be an aggressive staredown before cumming. The feeling gets pretty intense, his duality between silly and ‘yeah, give it to me’ is no joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Would probably die from inflammation if he shaved clean under those tight suits and did all these chafe-heavy skating routines. Doesn’t have a lot of body hair to begin with, but for pits and pubes, it’s alive, wild, and decently long. Out of all people, Yuzu cares particularly about aesthetics, but in this case pragmatism will prevail. He doesn’t care too much about it either as long as it doesn’t get in the way of something. Having sex with Yuzu tends to be well um well all about a hundred types of friction so any stubble would be a bad idea.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You haven’t seen a guy in love like that. It’s a figure skater thing for sure. Since he works to portray these sentiments on the ice daily, hardly anybody can play up feelings so delicately and palpably like Yuzuru. Emotion is what his entire career is built on. He knows how to express himself directly, appropriately, intimately. Couldn’t be any more romantic. Yuzu can’t go without it. 

Very passionate, ‘for your eyes only’ kind of atmosphere. Yes, he shows off on the ice, it’s his job (although of course, that word doesn’t really sum up what skating means to him). But private Yuzu is someone you can claim as yours. He will make it clear, he wants to belong to you, he’s yours, dedicated, devotion is the entire point. Less with a slant of what some subs like, very hands-on ownership of a mistress. It’s more emotional. He’s really attached and all smitten. Your private little haven is everything to him. 

Talking about little: Yuzu can be quite a pillow prince sometimes. At least when the initiative doesn’t go back and forth as it frequently does, you often alternate with suggestions and ways of tweaking an ongoing play session. You blindfold him or tie his wrists, He might be standard tired from practice or just fascinated to watch you work your magic on him. 

He also likes music to set the tone for intimacy, who’s surprised. Prepare: Yuzu likes dramatic classical music all the way. He’s probably one of the few people who can make it more than ‘classy’ and definitely more than cringe. He selects pieces very well. This is gonna be a practice template to cum together when the music reaches its peak. Makes the whole thing full of adrenaline.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lots of fun to him. Would beat it 24/7 if the ice wasn’t calling him. Drowns himself in lube. This guy’s me-time is so rated R, Cardi B would be inspired to remix WAP to wet ass penis as an anthem just for him. A dry dick is a ruined day for Yuzuru, as is a session without teasing his prostate in whatever way he currently fancies. Once he tried it, he never went back. The intensity knocking him out is something that Yuzu thinks about all the time. Strokes like a pro, does all these little moans, can do it forever, loves the feeling, chases the high. Adrenaline junkie on the ice? No different with his hand around his cock. 

Will masturbate everywhere in the house and has to really get his head in the game to make sure he won’t ruin any carpets. So, he always has at least two towels with him. In the kitchen, in front of the TV, in the shower, the bed. Watches his fair share of eclectic porn, he gets really desperate. Especially before you started dating, Yuzu would shut himself in until the lotion ran out. Can jack off to something romantic (he starts crying) or something extreme (he loves shocking himself and ). 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Very curious about sadomasochism. Googles a lot of things that make him hard during the day. Often jawdropped by his research, but once he tries things out with you, nothing can really shock him anymore. Absolutely wants to be collared, it’s his biggest fantasy. Another little secret he has, Yuzu is decked out in skating gloves, right. He wishes he could feel you wearing them, or he keeps them on for sex himself, the lacey transparent ones. Looks especially pretty when his wrists are tied so, major photograpy material. Oh yes, Yuzu likes the camera, he can work it. The guy is photogenic in any position and can strike any angle you want. Your phone background is a new Yuzu snapshot every week already, imagine your gallery, 5800 kinky pictures.  

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I’m gonna say it. The frozen lake out of town, late at night, condoms and lube with you. A quickie that will leave your genitals frozen. Yuzu might get stuck inside you because it’s -15 Celsius. Call that fantasy on ice. Jokes aside: Come on, Yuzu is the biggest ever hermit homebody. The couch will have a bunch of indents after your week-long fucking sessions after he comes home training. Also, at his desk while he does work for university. You ride him, Yuzu studies. Double the ambition. His dick is completely sore. The lake out of town thing might go down, but without sex. Just skating together under the stars, Yuzu doing amazing spins and spirals around you, very very romantic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yuzu is a crazed Sagittarius. Have you seen these men? They just want it all. Must be the influence of Jupiter. Zeus was definitely vibing that way. And yes, Yuzu has borderline unhealthy gold medal thinking in bed. He wants to be not just good but damn good with pleasing you. If you don’t have a good time and head home without an orgasm, he’ll consider himself a failure. Yuzu won’t cut himself any slack there. You’d have a hard time changing his ways into something more chill and moderate. Instead, you will see the benefits of rolling with it once you see how improvement fuels him and does make sex really mindblowing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Couldn’t do things like slapping you, spanking. Yuzu makes for a terrible daddy dom, it’d not suit him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Cum-dripping oral mess, Yuzu is the brave kind. Totally into it, and can’t resist a good blowjob. Will act different afterwards, there’s a lot of erotic tension. “This evening again?” is what those eyes are saying.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Outstanding kinesthetic intelligence. Every inch of his body follows his intent, and yours if you have him take on certain ways of kneeling. Yuzu can do it all, whatever you want. Tantalizing, moderato, overwhelmingly fast. He can take it, he can portray it. And knows the value of a pause like a true connoisseur. Not just when he wants to prevent cumming early, also just because the moment is right. That’s why cockwarming is a staple, as well as you having him wait patiently for kisses. To top it off: If you give him a blowjob, building up the tension by doing nothing is damn effective. The ruined orgasms you’re gonna give him... delicious.

Everything’s gonna have nice transitions as well, no awkward climbing and rolling and tangling limbs. If he gets something from another room that you need, no slouching. The university course as good as the extracurricular activities. Being inconsistent with any subsidiary details? Not in the Hanyu household, he’s keeping it classy. Yuzu feels like if he makes the bridges to new positions even remotely messy, the feeling is killed and it’s as if he’d break character mid-skate. Although he’ll have to practice and refine and test a lot of things because he’s not super experienced and adapting to your own movements is an individualized thing to do, he’s a masterclass of quality, period.

Even when things get fast and heated, nothing feels off. Having that kind of body smartness also means: Yuzu learns by touch, whatever you do. He knows by the way you pull his hair what comes next. How much saliva drips off your tongue when you suck at his neck, he knows how hard you’ll to ravage him in five minutes. This guy observes things you aren’t even conscious of because his physical understanding is just so fine-tuned.

The sense of rhythm, and every skating programme of him will showcase that, unbeatable. Unless his mood is really impacted by something severe, your guy feels it in every bone. He’s an artist, after all, he listens to music all the time. Dissecting rhythms to turn them into movement is what his line of work is all about. The pace will always fit the mood. Everything is precise, but never crude. Instead, the way he moves is dictated by an inherent flow. With little accents that match right with any thrust, like putting his hands on your sides when you’re on top of him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hit it Shakira: Whenever, wherever! He seemingly carries an entire condom factory with him. Or, to be more exact: At least three of them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This one’s a complicated case. Yuzu being reckless on the ice may or may not mirror in your private life. He might need some downtime, so bring out the soft domme stuff. No trial and error stuff, just going through a routine of things you love the most. On the other hand, he always gives it all. This guy’s endurance at your hands is amazing. Advanced kinds of BDSM he will not feel deterred from at all. Rough toys, anal hooks, sounding, whips, why not is Yuzu’s motto. But then again. He has such a confusing mix of innocence and feeling like he’s completely hardcore. You might end up experimenting a lot, but also not daring the leap sometimes because the mood is different. And then rather go for softer hours, where Yuzu will be all shy shy and more bursting with excitement than ever. A good, interesting mix is what I’m saying.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Yuzuru, once he gets a bit of practice to gauge the situation... Viagra on two legs, absolute unexpected powerhouse. You might end up pondering to work out a little and go for a run because this guy is in a consistently outstanding shape to say the least. Olympic athletes are literally hard to fuck with. And since Yuzu is starfishing sometimes (which is very adorable), or he’s in bondage for some time, that presents a further problem: For a second round, he’s full of energy, while you already spent energy. So, you alternate with who’s active, and the other leans back entirely. He has to remind himself since his body is programmed for it: This is no contest — the point is feeling good.

You might ride him reverse cowgirl all the way while you watch TV, and after the overstimulation fades he will eat you out ad nauseam, full course slobbering, sweeping the whole menu. That way, it’s less about keeping up with him, which would be hard for most people not doing sports at his galactic level. He understands, Yuzu knows he’s not normal in that regard, you don’t have to worry. Some exercise still doesn’t hurt, just to further increase the quality of sex anyway.

Then again: Why go jogging and do some laps wasting valuable together time when Yuzu’s lap is the best workout? And running doesn’t guarantee your stamina in bed is perfect even if it does help. You rather wanna manage how to draw out the arousal. It’s a self-control thing, with the goal of having you match up in every aspect as good as you can. In which case, you can count on him to pull it off: Have you seen Yuzu doing jumps side by side with a bunch of female skaters? Copy paste. This guy knows how to synchronize with the ladies.

Something that has to be mentioned beside that, though. Yuzu has asthma since 2 years old, and it’s often a mind thing to him still these days. He doesn’t let it stop him from sleeping with you because as always, he’s not letting anything get in his way. He has learned to live and thrive with it. But you both have to mind the possibility of an attack, he prevents it with inhalers, and the mood plays a crucial role. Yuzu being comfortable and confident is so important to his breathing, and keeping a good rhythm rather than being chaotic in bed. So, you will plan most of your sexual activities rather than improvising. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would stuff an entire sex shop into his every available orifice. Yuzu is a toy freak, he wants to try everything. Motto: a new one every day. Well, almost. But he can afford it. Buys stuff he uses solely on himself, things you use on him, things he uses solo and you use on him, and as the cherry on top, every possible high end vibrator on the market for you. Any size, too. This bitch will browse through the latest innovations, prepare to get off. He’s obsessed with seeing you use it on yourself. Yuzu owns a separate phone just for videos of you buzzing your clit, and him fingering you for minutes and minutes. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Extremely so. Loves to be a total brat only to get put into his place. He does it so you’ll pull the chin grab on him. He likes getting choked out as a punishment as well. Yuzu also tends to be very around the corner if you will when it comes to soft subbing, he lays over expecting cuddles but doesn’t say so. Buds his head against your chest, nuzzles, and so on. Lighter forms of teasing come to him very easily. Loves to prompt. Roughhousing, banter, favorite thing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Moderately loud because his voice is very very light, but unsurprisingly — he’s just beautiful. What a nice tone. Gorgeous whimpering sounds. And when you go hard on him, voice cracks! And really heavy breathing. What’s gonna be the most striking though is his expressiveness. We know it from the ice and interviews, and he can really amp it up even further. No need for screaming, that face will speak the volumes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You’ll be blessed with him if you have a huge crying kink. Yuzu definitely opens the waterworks every other week in bed. Happy tears, horny tears, relief tears, aftercare tears, orgasm tears, masochist tears, romantic tears, subspace tears, he has it all. He also begs for the type of pain that makes it stream down his face for minutes. He’s touchy-feely all the way and feels like he can really connect with you that way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His ass twitching is kind of a spectacle, but I don’t have to tell you, do I. Yuzu has muscles for the gods in there. So voluptuous, you can’t call it any other way. Big booty boyfriend, Jesus you can show him off, he loves it. Around the house, he will flaunt them big ole athlete buns in particular, acting like it’s unintended. Um, Yuzu, those are joggings. Smack it, he is sure to moan. 

And may I respectfully mention as well — this guy has some major big ass balls figuratively and literally. How else would someone be motivated to jump a triple axel like it’s nothing. Not kidding, they’re big and round and ugh. His love for tight pants doesn’t help. He knows what your eyes like and dresses just to flex the goods. Screams for more spanking and pinching if you ask me. Yuzu is definitely serving it. Well-endowed, you lucky girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mega horny, ready when you are. On a scale from zero to hundred? Breaching into the 90 percent right there. Yuzu’s hormones are literally insane. On paper he’s 26, but his dick wants the 18th birthday party. Jesus is he gonna be clingy when he’s in the mood. All wrapped around you in a backhug in the kitchen or when you iron a costume of his, and that’s sexy of him. He’s not gonna hide what’s filling out those sweatpants. He’ll desperately grind up against you like it’s Christmas.

Paired with his puppy eyes and little “Do you have some time... I’ll iron this tomorrow” — instant pounce. He’s admittedly a bit hard to keep up with sometimes, though. The reason: With that level of exercise, he has major pent-up energy. That machine is definitely running. Heavy sports changes your hormones, nervous system, and especially blood flow. Now take that to the scale of his performances and regimens? That equals a firework of horny. No wonder he masturbates all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Takes some time. He cools down, sweats it out, chugs water. However, don’t underestimate how tired Yuzu can already be. His daily routines and competitions have a toll on him. Ironically, he’s not a deep sleeper, however. Yuzu might toss and turn and have sudden energy bursts, or ideas, or gets hungry. So, he needs his plushies, he needs a weighted blanket, warm pajamas, a hot cup of his favorite warm drink, a light snack, and you by his side. Spooning him excessively and sometimes even humming to him. Yuzu looks like a certified angel on his pillow, his well-deserved rest from everything is so important, too.

NOTE - hope i could indulge you, thank you for reading!

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. depictions fictional.

#yuzuru hanyu #figure skating #yuzuru hanyu smut #yuzuru hanyu smut alphabet #yuzuru hanyu x reader #sub!yuzuru hanyu #sub!yuzu #dom!reader #fs #smut alphabet #smut abc #smut a-z

[maxwell-grant]

Any thoughts on Darkman, the Liam Neeson movie? I heard it was originally going to be a Shadow movie.

I love Darkman very much, but I've realized recently that this love comes with some pretty bittersweet feelings at the story behind it.

Michael Uslan: I was going to produce a Shadow feature film with Sam Raimi, but Sam got consumed by back-to-back movies and we ran out of time. We were headed in a good, period piece direction and managed to do so without relying on yet another bout with Shiwan Khan. I later had another major director passionate to do The Shadow, but a person at the company wanted to do a modern day TV series instead, which ultimately did not go... - comment saved from a post in The Shadow Knows Facebook group

For those of you who only now got into The Shadow or don't remember, for much of the early 00s, when The Shadow basically had no current projects and Conde Nast was taking down webpages and fan content left and right, the only things that kept this "fandom" alive were occasional fanfics (many of which are gone now), and the dim light in the horizon that was the rumors that Sam Raimi was finally going to make his Shadow film. Dig back on The Wayback Machine for Shadow web page and you're gonna see this as consistently the only thing they had to look forward to in regards to the character. These rumors floated around for over a decade, at one point Tarantino was even supposed to direct it, but he confirmed in 2013 that it wasn't going to happen. At least, not with him at the helm.

The project has been dead for a while now, and Conde Nast seems to be shuffling around plans for the character, and I deleted my Facebook months ago so I haven't kept up with any news, although it seems the James Patterson novel wasn't received too well, so I'm not sure what other plans they have in the pipeline.

Back in the 1970s, after the release of Richard Donner's Superman and in line with The Shadow's pop culture resurgence, thanks to the paperback reprints and the 70s DC run, there were plans to make a Shadow feature film, and there were quite a handful of scripts being tossed around for the following years (Will Murray states most of them were horrible), several names attached to the project at one point or another. The plans died down a bit following Gibson's death and only really picked up again after the 90s, and of course we all know that the 1994 movie came out with spectacularly bad timing. From what I recall, it seems Sam Raimi wanted to make his Shadow film in the 80s, was unable to secure the rights, and then just made his own version, which would go on to be his first major motion picture.

Even after making Darkman, Sam Raimi still wanted to make The Shadow. I guess that's ultimately the bittersweet part for me. I imagine the current state of Shadow media would be significantly better if Sam Raimi, who was a fan of the character and the pulp version (and even knows of The Shadow's connection to Houdini and stage magic), got to make his Shadow film, years before Blood & Judgment, years before Burton's Batman made it impossible for a Shadow film not to be compared to it, in a time period where it wouldn't have had to compete with The Lion King and The Mask for box office. And second, I have been drawing up my plans for Shadow projects for, what, 5 years now? And I have just barely got my foot off the door as a filmmaker. Sam Raimi had a decade-long career as a cult filmmaker before he got turned down, and decades later, after becoming a household name in charge of Marvel's biggest icon, the project still fell through. It doesn't exactly get my hopes up, y'know.

I love Darkman, it's the best Shadow film that doesn't technically star the real Shadow, and it works pretty well on it's own regardless of that association, but I do get pretty sad looking at it from the outside, because I just can't help but think on what it could have been.

In some aspects I do think the film benefits from not being about The Shadow proper, because it means Raimi got the freedom to do whatever the hell he wanted. The character of Darkman already existed separately from Sam Raimi's plans for a Shadow film, already carrying off the Phantom / Universal Monster influence, and what Raimi did was basically combine the two ideas together.

He took the basic iconography of The Shadow, a terrifying urban crimefighter in coat and slouch hat, and add in other Shadow traits like his mastery of disguise, his disfigurement, and that wonderful scene where he's invisibly running circles around a panicky triggerman while laughing maniacally, a moment which definitely feels like Raimi taking a second to indulge himself to do what you can call The Classic Shadow Scene with a character he's, for the most part, succesfully convinced us (and Conde Nast's lawyers, most importantly) isn't supposed to be The Shadow.

But then he filters these through his own influences and style to make him a new character, so instead of a mysterious mastermind with lots of resources and a enigmatic background, instead he's a disfigured and psychotic scientist with a vengeance against those who made him that way. He's like Night Raven, in the sense that he's built off traits that The Shadow has, but develops them differently to the point he stands on his own as a character. It's The Shadow combined with The Phantom of the Opera, filtered through a 1930s Universal Horror lens, played for greater tragedy and a dash of Evil Dead 2 wackyness.

He hides away in trashed up ruins and bickers with a cat, he has fits of rage that make him endanger innocents, he has a doomed love affair, and sometimes he gets so batshit he gives us hilarious moments like "TAKE THE FUCKING ELEPHANT" and "SEE THE DANCING FREAK! PAY - FIVE - BUCKS! TO SEE THE DANCING FREAK!". Moments that really show why he was such a good fit for Spider-Man despite the liberties he took with the source material.

I think the big thing that helps to make Darkman works as a property in it's own right is also that, ultimately, these influences are ultimately at the forefront of it, and the core of it works on it's own. Darkman is a believable, engaging character in his own right, one who tells a story that would be more at odds with The Shadow proper. 

In some aspects, Darkman tries to be The Shadow, he is forced to become The Shadow by literally picking the clothes off a dumpster after he escapes the hospital, and it's a miserable, wretched existence, in a way rather befitting his status as a legally safe knock-off. He is a creature of nightmare who lost his face and takes on a dozen others to fight crime by turning terror against them, except he is still just a man in the end, and no man was ever supposed to live like this.

Raimi was also inspired by the Universal horror films of the 1930s and 1940s because "they made me fear the hideous nature of the hero and at the same time drew me to him. I went back to that idea of the man who is noble and turns into a monster".

He originally wrote a 30-page short story, titled "The Darkman", and then developed into a 40-page treatment. At this point, according to Raimi, "it became the story of a man who had lost his face and had to take on other faces, a man who battled criminals using this power"

A non-superpowered man who, here, is a hideous thing who fights crime. As he became that hideous thing, it became more like The Phantom of the Opera, the creature who wants the girl but who was too much of a beast to have her

I decided to explore a man's soul. In the beginning, a sympathetic, sincere man. In the middle, a vengeful man committing heinous acts against his enemies. And in the end, a man full of self-hatred for what he's become, who must drift off into the night, into a world apart from everyone he knows and all the things he loves.

For the role, Raimi was looking for someone who could suggest "a monster with the soul of a man"

It's the fact that Darkman is ultimately played for vulnerability and tragedy that really sets him apart. While I wouldn't go far enough to say The Shadow is a man with the soul of a monster, still, the difference in presentation is still there when it comes to these two. The Shadow is The Other, Darkman is You. Darkman is the victim of extraordinary circumstance that affects his life, The Shadow is the extraordinary circumstance that affects the lives of others. People react to The Shadow, Darkman reacts to people (and rather poorly).

One is the man who takes off his skin (or yours, staring back at you) to reveal the weird creature of the night ready to prowl and pounce and cackle at those who think they hold power over it's domain, and the other is the monster who falls apart bit by bit until you are left staring at the broken man within who has no choice but to be something he was never supposed to be.

The Shadow is The Master of Darkness. Darkman weaponizes the dark, but in the end, he's still just a man, lost within it. Not everyone can be The Shadow, and you would most likely turn into Darkman if you tried.

#replies tag #darkman #sam raimi #the shadow #pulp heroes #universal monsters

[tedturneriscrazy]

🎶Knock, Knock, Knockin' On Hooty's Door🎵

I wonder if anything will happen in this episode.🙂

(I say as if I didn't watch the episode twice before going to bed and writing this post)

I don't think I'll ever not be amused by the way Hooty just...does things with his face

Seems like he found a thesaurus at some point

Okay so it's canonically spelled "Hootsifer," good to know

Also, this is really all we get of Lilith, huh?

His little hoot/coo at Lilith's letter❤❤❤

To borrow a meme format: If I had a nickel for every time Alex Hirsch was involved in a show where one of the characters was experiencing pubescent voice cracks, I'd have two nickels, which isn't very much but it's weird that it happened twice

Eda's face🤣

As much as this bit is played for laughs, Eda's clearly still shaken by what happened last episode

Jeez, Luz, priorities /j

Pictured: Hooty

The way King talks about being pelleted implies this is something Hooty does on the regular

Hooty's plan to help King is literally a Buzzfeed quiz? Okay then

Betcha never expected lore from Hooty, eh?

"DO NOT INTERRUPT"

Officially a "type of worm"

The dance being a grievous insult wasn't exactly from nowhere, but still funny nonetheless

WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THE FUCKING COCCOON

Tiny Nose playing Switch definitely seems to be drawing from Dana's real life experiences

Wait, Hooty and Tiny Nose are friends?

Well shit, turns out she could use magic this whole time. Guess her going Super Saiyan wasn't just the power glyph.

I am extremely skeptical of your medical credentials, TN

I have so many questions about the methodology they used for the blood test(s)

I think Hooty may have misinterpreted what King was looking for

I'm still amazed at how King has had, and continues to have, moments in the show with some of the greatest emotional weight

Ooh, sound powers!

"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A CRUMBLE!!!"

It just occurred to me that that segment consisted mostly of Alex Hirsch talking to himself

Hello not-at-all obvious setup

Today I learned that Hooty is the baker of the house. Maybe he'd critique Amity's fairy pie.

Aaaaand there's the sleep inducing

Oh shit

In hindsight the Owl Beast being part of a dream sequence is rather obvious

Wow, Eda, tell us how you really feel about the Owl Beast

Oh we're just gonna ride aboard the Trauma Express today, huh?

Oh, I guess Lilith did make an appearance, after all

Damn, Gwen, not even looking

Oh shit dad issues

Sandy Cohen?! (To anyone who gets that reference, hi. How are your 30s treating you?)

Well, I know who Peter Gallagher voices now, anyway

Oh dear...

(Also, bright flashing lights triggering the curse? There's an epilepsy allegory in here somwhere)

Blood and eye injury? Gotta stretch that Y7 rating

Now we have some context for that look on Eda's face when Lilith mentioned their dad: good old fashioned guilt!

I desparately want to make a "Dude, you're getting a Dell!" joke, but I'm better than that

New memory! Raine!

Oh no...

I get the feeling I'll hate this part, too

They were exes!😢 Guess the fandom called that one

The reasoning for them being exes is understandable, all too real, and goddamn heartbreaking

That said, the fact they never stopped loving each other🥺😢😭

I do hope we can see Raine again under less...traumatic circumstances. Maybe that wedding that was mentioned?

Oh shit, are we getting into the Owl Beast's memories?!?! What a tweest!

Bet nobody expected Cloaked Moonface to show up in the frickin Hooty episode

(Also, holy shit I briefly forgot this was the Hooty episode)

Who is this mysterious cloaked figure? And why are they so tall and long?

So the curse was a sealed beast this whole time. Damn.

And it was just picked up as beach junk to sell as a trinket. So much for it being connected to Belos. (Not that people will stop trying to do so)

Who had "experiencing sympathy for the Owl Beast" on their Bingo cards for this episode? Yeah, me neither.

And here we have the necessary Eda coming to terms with her curse segment. More accurately, Eda and the curse coming to terms with each other.

Goddamnit why does it have to be cute

"It's like sandpaper" IT'S LIKE A CAT I FUCKING CAN'T

Insert Steamed Hams reference here to kill the mood

New transformation!

Oh no she's hot!

No, Hooty, you made it surprisingly much, much better!

She might have a problem pushing people away and holding onto guilt, but Eda always knows that she looks damn good

Oh right, Luz having girl problems. Fuck, so much is happening in this episode!

"Cotton-candy-haired Goddess" LUZ! 🤣

Attuned to other people's emotions = being a fucking creeper

Oh Luz, what happened to you back home?

Also, 99.999% certain Amity would love your cheesiness

That's...rather morbid, Hooty

So much lore development, including the fact the Owl House has a basement

Classic inanimate object silhouette fakeout gag. Subversion in 3...2...1...

There it is!

I can't imagine being pelleted is a fun experience.

Honestly I have so many questions about how Hooty got Amity there in the first place, but I'm not so sure I actually want to know the answers to any of them...

Cue much panicking

Wow, I'm really getting some Into the Bunker flashbacks

Oh this is gonna be amazing isn't it

I commend Luz for not actually dropping dead of embarrassment

Seriously, how can Hooty set all this up so fast yet not hold a pen?!?!?!

Poor Luz, she thinks this is destroying her chances

Meanwhile Amity is just "Oh, Titan, is this actually happening?!"

The way she's fixing her hair!❤

Goddamnit Luz let this play out, she's so clearly into this!

"Again?!" Okay who do I have to kill?

Luz is luzing it

Nooooooo....

JUST TALK FOR FUCK'S SAKE (aka how like 95% of issues in literally any plot could be solved)

Noooo Amity's so heartbroken right now💔

This isn't what either of them wanted!

To be fair, Hooty, Luz had a part in this too. Not that she can be blamed entirely. Poor thing clearly had some awful experiences back home...

Now Hooty is McFucking losing it

Why did I think he was gonna say "Looks like I'm gonna have to JUMP!" I think I've watched too much Homestar Runner (jk there's no such thing)

Those pulsating organs are still gross

Eda swooping in to save her son (No, really, he actually is now)

I'll say things get weird when Hooty gets upset!

Yes, King! Save them with your voice powers!

Damn that is some romantic lighting, and Luz is enjoying the eye candy (cotton candy, if you will)

Luz's reaction to Harpy!Eda is the family-friendly summation of how the fandom has reacted.

Hooty really just tearing up the landscape in remorse

Mother-daughter moment about love life!

I appreciate not just Eda's encouragement but her actually asking Luz what she wanted

God, Eda is best mom

Also, OH FUCK IS THIS HAPPENING?!

OH SHIT

THESE ADORABLY AWKWARD NERDS❤💜💙

"I'm not as cool as you think" could be interpreted as self-deprecating, but here it seems...oddly reassuring?

The way Luz eloquently says how she wants Amity in her future...beautiful❤

Luz making some good faces

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

YOU CUTE DORKS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

THERE IT IS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

LOOK HOW HAPPY SHE IS

WE WERE LOSING OUR SHIT OVER A PECK ON THE CHEEK THREE WEEKS AGO AND NOW LOOK WHERE WE ARE HOLY FUCK

Awkwardness is still there, but that's to be expected

BET Y'ALL DIDN'T EXPECT THAT TRAILER SHOT TO BE IN THE HOOTY EPISODE HUH

THE WAY LUZ RUBS AMITY'S HAND😭😭😭😭😭

(And yeah, it's gonna still be scary, but only because it promises to be so wonderful)

Let's give it up for Hootsifer, goddamn!

Let'a also appreciate just how fucking funny it is that Lumity becomes official in the Hooty episode

Fus ro WEH!

Hooty actually saying "Luz's new GF" out loud...

In just about any other show the love interests getting together would be a climax/culmination of the entire plot. Here? It's actually used to advance the plot, and that is brilliant!

Dana Terrace and the crew really just knocking it out of the park again and again, huh

"They're adorable, and deserve all the happiness!" Well said, Hootsifer. Well said.

Probably for the best they had Hooty promise that. As much as what happened/progressed, there was a lot of property damage.

OH SHIT ONCE AGAIN

King's dad/relative! And he's voiced by Kevin Michael Richardson!

GODDAMNIT HOOTY

Wow. Just...wow. This episode.

King has voice powers! Harpy!Eda! Lumity are girlfriends for real!!!!

How do you pack so much into a single episode?! And so expertly?!

I had my suspicions before, but this confirms it: The Owl House is the greatest show of all time.

And we have two episodes left until the hiatus! And 11 episodes in the season after that! What are we in for?!?!?!

I, for one, can't wait to find out!

#the owl house #toh hooty #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #gwendolyn clawthorne #dell clawthorne #raine whispers #amity blight #lumity #toh s2 spoilers #the owl house s2 spoilers #the owl house season 2 spoilers #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Ok, so the little line about Marcus being sad that Nush didn’t wear his hoodie gave me thoughts...and thots.

This would definitely be further down the line, maybe they’ve already confessed their feelings to one another but they’re taking their relationship slow, so dates mostly consist of movie nights, dinners at casual places, etc. But one movie night, they fall asleep on Marcus’ couch and he wakes the next morning to Nush coming back from getting them pastries & coffee...in his hoodie. And boy does it do something to him. He’s never felt this way about someone wearing his clothes before; it makes him possessive and all he wants to do is see her in his hoodie and nothing else.

My brain goes two ways on this: heavy make out session where Marcus let’s her know just what seeing her in his clothes does (lots of dirty talk) OR full on dom!Marcus picking her up and putting her on his kitchen counter so he can get his mouth between her legs and telling her what seeing her in his clothes does to him. I can’t decide which I thot I like more!!

These two give me so many thoughts and thots...it might be a slight problem

Please note that this work is not suitable for those under 18. Themes of consensual sex and swearing.

Beta thanks to @yespolkadotkitty ❤️❤️❤️

You think you are possessing me but I’ve got my teeth in you.

Angela Carter 

What could be more coincidental than pouring rain greeting the pair of you as you leave the Prince Charles Cinema’s matinee of Singing in the Rain? The deluge that pours onto the street below invites a bloom of colourful umbrellas twisting and turning through the Soho streets- umbrellas that neither of you had thought to bring despite it being April in London. Enjoying the last few moments of relative warmth and dryness, your eyes flicker between a deep-in-thought Marcus, and the puddles outside those black rimmed glass doors that lie in wait for the pair of you. 

“You are thinking very loudly, Mr Pike,” you remark shaking your head as a wave of consternation washes across his face, “Don’t you dare think about where the nearest shop is to buy an umbrella. It’s barely a ten minute walk to Charing Cross from here.”

Marcus releases a small chuckle as he shuffles his feet embarrassedly, his eyes shifting sideways, “How did you know I was thinking that?”

“At work, when you are questioning people- you’re entirely closed off which you need to be in for our profession but as soon as you go into hometime Marcus, your thoughts and emotions are painted across your face as clear as words on a page.”

A shy boyish grin creeps across his face, “Ok, I am a bit of an open book but you have the ability to read me better than anyone else,” he reluctantly owns, “I kinda wish I was a better liar and could come up with something else on the spot.”

Grabbing his hand tightly, you give it a small squeeze and a tug to let him know that he never needs to lie to you- a gesture that Marcus returns with a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “Come on you, let’s go run between the raindrops and head back South of the river before anyone notices that we came without our passports.” Your eyes sparkle wickedly at him as you raise your finger to your lips pretending to drag him into the silly North/South London divide. 

“Still tickled by your version of the redneck, iced tea, Southern manners versus skyscrapers, yellow cabs and  cold winters”,” he shakes his head slightly.

“My love, there is a lot you don’t get in regards to Britishisms- you still giggle like a teenage boy whenever I mention the word knickers,” you kindly reprimand him, “You’ve not even been here two months yet, give yourself time to realise that our version of pancakes are better than yours!”

You hear a sharp gasp emanating from Marcus in mock hurt as you blaspheme over his favourite food group. Cocking your eyebrow at him, you pause for a moment as you step towards the double doors that lead into roads where the coloured lights bleed across their oily surfaces. Marcus reaches around you to open the door, “I got you. Not letting you walk into doors today.”

It seems as if the moment that the two of you step outside, the heavens truly decide to open upon you, drenching through every layer of clothing right to your bones. Running through the winding streets with your hands tightly wound together, you and Marcus dodge in and out of the sprawling crowds of tourists with their leisurely pace and humongous golf umbrellas. When you are faced with a particularly large group, you split apart with Marcus diving towards a shop but you go too close to the curb when a taxi drives through a massive puddle, sending an icy tsunami over your head. 

You stand there and gasp as the water constricts every blood vessel in your body, the shock coursing through your veins. Blinking the water from your eyelashes, you become aware of two hands bringing warmth back to your cheeks and two brown orbs gazing at you, “Hey, you ok?” Marcus scans your face, worriedly checking you over as he slides his worn leather jacket over your shoulders to try to bring some warmth back into your body.

Brimming with tears of mirth, your eyes crease into tiny crescents until the smile tugging at your lips forms the biggest grin as your whole body roars with laughter, “I don’t think there’s much point in trying to run between the raindrops anymore,” you gasp out between the giggles. 

When you notice that Marcus isn’t laughing, you pause to draw a deeper breath, searching his face for clues. Your heart beats faster and faster as you notice that his eyes are black holes, pulling you towards him until gravity and time cease to exist. Heat rises through the chill of your skin- from your stomach to your throat- as his lips call to yours. When the sensitive skin meets, there isn’t a moment of hesitation to drink each other in as the taste of Marcus silences all of your thoughts.

All of your kisses to this point had been the tentative kisses of a new relationship. The kisses of two broken hearts starting to mend and learning how to allow yourselves to love again. 

But this. This. This was different. 

Marcus withdraws his mouth slightly from you, resting his forehead against yours as his breath dances across your lips, “Wow.”

And then he’s back. Fingers tangled in your hair, lungs forgetting to breathe as without a moment’s hesitation he deepens the kiss, parting your lips and searching for the soft sweetness brought by your tongue. As the moment swiftly intensifies, your hands seek him out as the only solid thing in the swaying world around you. Your fingers seek out the warmth of his skin beneath his drenched Henley. You feel him. All of him presses against you so that you can inhale the woody scent of his aftershave, the citrus notes of his shampoo and that smell that is just so utterly Marcus. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your now swollen lips. His words ground you, placing a solid surface beneath your feet before he sweeps you away again. 

The kisses eventually slow, becoming infinitely more tender than the raw need that pulses between you both. You are breathless, dazed and needing so much more. Your body aches for more than the Soho streets can offer you, confident in the knowledge that Marcus feels the same as you feel his powerful body tremble like yours. All that exists in this moment is feeling, wanting and needing each other. 

A half growl, half moan comes from the back of Marcus’ throat as he finally breaks the kiss, “I have to get you home before I take you right here.”

Heart still racing, you just about manage to form words but your lust-filled brain mangles them making you feel drunk and slurred, “Whose home?”

“Mine. S’closer,” he murmurs into your mouth, “Don’t wanna be arrested for acts of indecency. Right now, everything I wanna do to you, falls into that category.”

It takes all you can muster, hearing that admission spill from his lips. All the willpower in the world, not to just find a darkened doorway and just take him there. 

His fingers find yours again, peeling your hands away from the soft skin under his t-shirt-  intertwining in undoable knots- but your bodies still press together as if you cannot bear to separate yet. You both take a moment to catch your breath, the rain still falling upon you in some heavenly benediction- mouths twitching into grins as your breathing relaxes and slows to a pace that allows for thoughts to re-enter your mind. 

Marcus is the one to break the bodily contact, turning to one side, dropping one of your hands to start walking towards the station. You catch a slightly confused look on his face, “Not sure where the station is, are you? Come on, I’ll let you take the lead when you know where you are a bit better,” you snigger with a saucy wink in his direction. 

As you go to walk away from him, he pulls you in closer and rumbles deeply in your ear, “You know I don’t have a problem with you taking the lead.”

The tone of his voice echoes through your skin, setting fireworks off through every synapse in your body and oh how it gladdens you to realise that he needs you as much as you want him. 

✪✪✪✪✪

The journey home has been one of not daring to look at or touch each other too much. Sitting next to him on the train, your thighs leaning into each other, you both desperately try to focus on messing around with your phones. Him showing you various forthcoming art exhibitions in town and you showing him silly TikToks sent by your nieces and nephews of dogs being dubbed with computerised voices, giving their thoughts on cats and other dog breeds. Anything to take your minds off what you’d actually like to do with each other.

As the train pulls into the station, you pull him up from his seat and head towards the exit. Tapping out at the ticket barrier, you turn towards Marcus, going up on tiptoes to place a small chaste kiss upon his lips, “I’m popping to Sainsburys to grab some wine as I think we finished that bottle on Wednesday, didn’t we? Do you need anything else while I’m there?”

“Sweetheart, I can’t let you do that,” Marcus tries pleading with you.

“I cannot get any wetter than I am at this moment in time,” you implore before pausing as Marcus raises his eyebrows at you, licking his lower lip, stepping closer to close the minutismal space between yourselves.

“Quit  making me stand in the rain, thinking impure thoughts,” he groans.

You push the heel of your hand into his chest, “Then go upstairs, run me a bath and find something dry for me to put on, then you can have your wicked way with me.”

Putting his hands on your hips and dipping his head to playfully nip at your neck, Marcus gives in as his lips mutter into your skin, “Ok, be quick. I’ll order some pizza and ice cream ready for you getting out of the bath.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you release a satisfied groan at the thought of a warm bath and pizza. Especially that beauty of a bath in Marcus’ apartment where you can actually stretch out and entirely submerge yourself beneath the hot soapy water. You remove Marcus’s hands from your sides and turn towards the small store with its bright fluorescent lights blaring out at you through the plate glass storefront. As you go to step inside, you turn your head and see that Marcus has turned at the same time with that look in his eyes again. With a small wave and a grin, you step inside to find snacks and wine, not entirely sure that they would be necessary this evening.

✪✪✪✪✪

Bottles clink and packets of Haribo rustle from within your bags as you walk up to Marcus’ front door. You give the bottom section of wood a small thud from your boot, to which it opens with a significantly dryer Marcus, who takes the bags from you before ushering you in. As the warmth of his flat encircles you, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“Strip,” his firm, familiar baritone commands, holding an arm out for your soaking clothes, “Your bath is run and I’ve left you some clothes on my bed. You’d left a pair of panties from the last time you stayed over- I’ve washed those so they’re in the pile too.”

Peeling back the layers of clothing that had been so utterly useless against the torrential rain and draping them over Marcus’ arms- tiny droplets dripping onto his hardwood flooring, you soon stand there completely naked. Tossing your clothes in the general direction of his washing machine, he gently guides you with his warm hand placed in the small of your back towards the bath, which true to his word, is full, bubbly and welcoming. 

As you step in, you look over towards Marcus inviting him in with your eyes. 

With a small shake of his head, Marcus turns to leave you to soak. The quietude envelops you, so much that you are barely able to hear Marcus padding softly around outside this sanctuary. You lie back allowing the water to cover your ears- a complete sensory deprivation when your eyes draw shut too. Images that swirl with the heavenly taste and scent of Marcus, his velvet touch and the sound of his voice dance behind your closed lids as you allow the water to wash away London pollution and puddle water. 

✪✪✪✪✪

Having reheated your body enough, the bath water turning tepid, you clamber out onto the deliciously soft bath mat that you know Andy picked out prior to Marcus’ arrival. Wrapping one of the towels Marcus has left out for you around your body and the other around your hair, you walk into his impeccably neat bedroom. Bed made, clothes ironed, folded and put away- the polar opposite of yours. Even the pile of clothes with your knickers on top, is neat. 

The morning after the night when Marcus had first stayed over at yours and needed an iron for his shirt, you’d barely been able to locate in your memory where you’d last seen it- pointing him in the direction of the cupboard of doom- the place where half-baked ideas and good intentions go to die.. Everything is generally haphazard and a little topsy-turvy about you but Marcus, his sense of order calms your busy brain and you are noticing it rub off on you. 

You hang your coat up on the hooks that you’d drilled in when you’d first bought your flat but never used until a month ago. You only now have one hanging chair, rather than utilising every surface available. You also attempt to only buy one bagged salad each week instead of pretending that you will eat more greens but then them definitely losing that green tone, fading into a brown slush before you remember their existence in that pathetic salad drawer. 

Pulling up your knickers and sitting, no- sinking into the glorious mattress of Marcus’ bed, you haul the t-shirt over your head and shrug your arms into the sleeves of the hoodie before zipping it up at the front. You smile at a flicker of a memory where Jasper had moaned at you for stretching out his hoodies with your woman boobs. You also find it very sweet that Marcus honestly thinks that his shorts will fit over your thighs and hips so you leave them on the bed, choosing to leave the room in just the hoodie, t-shirt and underwear- albeit just on your bottom half as your bra was utterly soaked too and was probably going through his washing machine. That poor underwire! Nevermind, perhaps it’s time for something a little less utilitarian and a little more sexy.

Softly padding out from his bedroom, you spy Marcus’ broad back twisting in the kitchen as he seeks out plates and glasses in the cupboards. Pizza boxes lie on the side, their contents sweating condensation on the table below.

“I’m finally decent,” you declare with a flourish as you bounce into the kitchen, almost bounding directly into his chest. 

Marcus spins at the sound of your voice, making sure to catch and steady you after your clumsy entrance, “No. You are very wrong there,” his breath hitching as he rumbles deeply into the shell of your ear, “No way. You could never be classified as decent, not looking like this.”

Another step and a slight twist of your body, and Marcus has your hips pinned against the cupboard. He places his hands either side of you, trapping you between the carpentry and the solid wall of him, his dark eyes flashing with lust as you feel him memorising every detail of you. 

“Talk to me, Marcus,” you ask of him, running your fingers through his dark curls, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You sure you wanna know?” he questions, stroking his fingers down the side of you, the sensation causing you to twitch under its tenderness. 

“I want you to tell me everything,” you demand unblinkingly. Desperate for Marcus to finally tell you what he wants rather than constantly looking to please and pleasure you.

“Ok,” You see Marcus nod, his bottom lip slightly trembling, “It takes a superhuman feat of strength not to call you into my office everyday and fucking rail you right there into my desk, in front of everyone.”

Holy fuck, Marcus. Let it go.

“Monday, when we were working late and you grabbed my jacket to throw over your shoulders? Seeing how the shoulders swamped yours, there was... There was just this moment when I wanted to run my hands up that skirt, rip your panties off, slide into you and bite your neck, leaving marks for everyone to know you’re mine. I just wanted to possess every part of you and all because of you wearing something that’s mine. 

“When we’re walking around galleries or sitting in cinemas together, it is all I can do to not find a cupboard to push you into or take advantage of the lowlights.I just want you to be mine all the time. I want to be surrounded by your scent- your hair, your perfume and your cunt -  they’re this drug that I can’t get enough of. When you wear my clothes, they smell of you - makes me want to possess every part of you. I need all of you to belong to me.” 

Your heart thuds in your chest as you allow Marcus’ primal growl to fill you with a searing heat that burns through the very depths of you.

“And now. Right now? Seeing you now in my hoodie and just your panties is so fucking tempting- so don’t you dare give me that comment that you are decent now.” 

His hands finally move from their position on the counter to your hips as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist unconsciously. The pizza unceremoniously gets dumped onto the floor as he settles you onto the cool work surface, pulling your hips slightly towards him. Unlocking your calves from around his waist, he pushes your thighs a little further apart, thumbs brushing upon the sensitive skin as he lowers his face so that you can feel his hot breath through the material of your knickers.

He withdraws slightly, pressing his lips in sweet kisses along the inside of your thighs whilst his teeth graze and nip at you, setting off a string of fireworks in your skin. 

“Right now, I want to inhale you. I need to have your scent filling my lungs.”

His nose nuzzles into your lightly clothed slit searching out your sweet heady scent, brushing the damp material back and forth over your sensitive clit making it throb in anticipation. The sensations brought from his nose causes your core to pool around him, the small nudges sending your pulse racing through the roof. 

Very few thoughts are able to exist in your mind other than the way you desperately want to wrap your legs back around him- this time around his head to lock him in place and keep his face glued to your pussy, stopping him from continuing this tantalising teasing. 

“Now? Now, I want to taste you. I want drink that sweet fucking nectar from right here.”

Dipping his head lower, he licks teasingly at the aperture of your cunt, stiffening his tongue slightly to press the material between your folds. Your breath catches in your throat wanting to scream at his slow pace. You hook your thumbs into the elastic of your knickers at your hips, trying to awkwardly shuffle them off. 

Abruptly, he stops. Pulling away from you, moving your hands away from trying to remove your underwear, “No,” he growls, “Leave them on.”

“Do you wanna know why I didn’t sneak those panties back to you at work or any of the other nights I’ve seen you this week?” He raises an eyebrow at you from his crouched position between your legs as you nod helplessly, your heart pounding in your throat, “I’ve been smelling them, thinking of your hot cunt as I rub my cock in the few moments we’re apart.”

Leaning forward, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your bottom and kissing you hard through your knickers, he exclaims joyously, “Ah, honey, I fucking love your smell and taste! Sometimes, I can still smell your juices on my fingers at work and it makes my cock fucking throb, knowing that you are only two steps away from me. Professionalism with you so close is impossible.”

Your pussy throbs and yearns for a consistent touch as he returns his face to between your legs. Resting his forehead against your pubic bone, he returns to burying his nose into the dampest point of the thin fabric. This time, as he drags it upwards, he pulls his tongue stiffly upwards until he reaches that sensitive nub of nerves, catching it between his teeth gently tugging it. 

You swear that every nerve in your body is on fire and nothing exists except you and Marcus. No one has made your body sing like this in its neediness. The rush of wild sensations sweeping across your body are equally thrilling and maddening you.

 Teasing the material to one side of your pussy lips, you watch a smile unfold across Marcus’ face as he gazes upon you. 

Never have you felt so wanted before. 

Then with the same joyous abandon he has shown in kissing your pussy, he throws your thighs over his shoulders before sinking his mouth onto the sweet, bare flesh. The way that his tongue flickers so gracefully across your clit leaves you gasping. That familiar knot of pleasure building deep inside your tummy as he edges ever lower, preparing to tongue fuck you. Licking deeper and deeper into your cunt, you can hear the pleasure spilling from within you onto his tongue and oh how he drinks like a man dying of thirst. 

You cry out in surprise as Marcus encircles his lips around your clit, sucking rhythmically and gently. The scruff of his beard tickling pleasingly the sensitive flesh as he works you towards your release. A guttural groan against your delicate skin is the point that sends you truly spinning over the precipice into pleasure, howling his name into the night air as your thighs tightly clasp him around his ears, his tongue still working you through that blissful high until your body drops every ounce of tension, relaxing into the afterglow. 

When he moves back into softly kissing your thighs, you tug his glistening face towards you with barely a moment of hesitation passing between the two of you. Your lips meet again with the tenderness of an artist’s brushstrokes, Marcus painting the taste of you into your mouth with exquisitely delicious kisses. 

He brings his forehead back to rest against yours again, with a total calmness drifting across his features. You shut your eyes and rest with him, safe. From his lust drenched words to the experienced motions of his tongue, you utterly resign yourself to the truth. 

You have always belonged with Marcus.

 You always will.

@yespolkadotkitty @astroboots @danniburgh @disgruntledspacedad @green-socks @zukoyonce @sirowsky @bison-writes @tardisfangurl @agirllovespancakes @leonieb @mrsparknuts @absurdthirst @pedropascalito @lunaserenade @mouthymandalorian @the-ginger-hedge-witch @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#the mentalist #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal edit #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #thanks for the ask! #send me asks

[c-c-cherry]

Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌

*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*

 *looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*

Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.

I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)

-Hear me out but KNITTING

-Let this man do some nice calm things please

-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.

-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it

-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports

-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(

-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—

-One thing they do have in common? Erina.

-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)

-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”

-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down

-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it

-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”

-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/

The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:

“Isn’t that meant for girls?”

“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”

“But its—”

“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”

“...”

“We can make it a race.”

And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?

-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.

-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing

-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.

-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)

-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”

-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)

-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his

-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail

Jonathan is very proud :)

Jotaro

-Animals. Is that even a question?

-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT

-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man

-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺

-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind

-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean

-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)

-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together

-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)

-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol

-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG

-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3

-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough

-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud

-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni

-He wears them as a good luck charm :3

Josuke

-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)

-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do

-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know

-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY

-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something

-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??

-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart

-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,

-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke

-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week

-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,

-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room

-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed

-Turns out he’s really good at quest games

-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game

-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”

.

-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar

-Hamon ^-^

-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow

-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon

-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity

-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance

-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers

-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3

-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)

Giorno

-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form

-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea

-Garden buddies!!!! :D

-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)

-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers

-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please

-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally

-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together

-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic

-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3

-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))

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I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(

Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao

#jjba #jjba headcanons #jonathan joestar #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #josuke higashikata #giorno giovanna #jojos's bizarre adventure #ask-c-c-cherry #headcanons #anime #erina joestar #family feels #long post

[shoutosteakettle]

⤷ pairing: shouto todoroki x reader

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ word count: 2786

⤷ a/n: i had a lot of fun writing this even if it took me three days, so i hope you guys have fun reading,, thank you @ererokii​ for beta-reading and making the header, love you bby

☆彡

“What do you mean we have the day off,” you asked your boyfriend, one foot already out the door, and you fully dressed and prepared to go kick ass as a pro hero.

“Look outside Y/n,” you shifted your attention from Shouto, focusing on the raging blizzard outside through the window of your apartment.

“You’re going to let a couple of snowflakes stop us from saving people,” you asked, not so silently judging the half and half man currently pouring himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen.

“The agency called for an off day. You can go to work, but no one’ll be there,” Shouto sighed, grabbing the milk carton from the fridge.

“Are you serious,” you pouted, stepping back inside and closing the door behind you.

“I know how much you love your job, but you work too hard. Maybe this is a sign that you should take a break,” Shou suggested, putting the cap back on the milk and placing it on the top shelf inside the fridge.

“I love that you worry for me, but I work so hard because I love my job. Seeing the smiles on people’s faces whenever I arrive at an incident and being able to help them is always the second-best part of my day,” you confessed, making your way back to your bedroom so you could change and get comfy.

Shouto watched you disappear into your shared bedroom as he took another spoonful of his cereal. He listened from the kitchen as you opened and closed draws, grumbling about how much this sucked. He would never admit it, but his feelings were a little hurt that you thought having to spend a day with him was that bad. After a couple of minutes, you reemerged from the bedroom wearing a pair of Shouto’s grey sweats that sat loosely on your hips, not that it mattered because the oversized pink hoodie you were wearing covered everything up perfectly.

You made your way over to your boyfriend, who was in the middle of reading the back of the cereal box. “Is there any more,” you asked Shou, prompting him to look up from the maze he was close to solving. You guys had been living together for three months and dating for twelve, but he couldn’t help but blush every time he saw you in his clothes.

“Uh, yeah,” Shou said, reaching over to hand you the cereal box. He watched as you mimicked the same steps he had taken earlier, taking a bowl out the cabinet, then moving to the fridge to get the milk, and he realized something that made him feel all fuzzy on the inside, it was always in moments like this where you looked the most mundane when you were the most beautiful to him.

“What are you staring at,” you teased, pulling out a chair across the table from your boyfriend.

“You,” he paused mid-scoop of his cereal, a bit taken aback by his own suddenness, but deciding to along with it, “Do I tell you often enough how beautiful? Because you are very, very beautiful.”

Now it was your turn to blush. You reached over to run your fingers against the softness of his cheek, peering into his eyes as you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to rise, “I don’t know how I ended up with someone as perfect as you.” You watched his lips curl up into a smile, and you noticed the way that his eyes lit up when you leaned over to steal a kiss before sitting back down in your seat.

“So what should we do today” you asked, completely blanking on anything you guys could do to have fun on what was probably going to be a pretty boring day.

He took less than a minute to ponder your question, before standing up from the table and gathering his dishes, “Do you remember the night you first stayed over? We popped-”

“Popped popcorn and made a fort and spent all night cuddled up together watching movies,” you recalled, remembering how nervous you were that day. By now, being all close and personal with Shou was something you had gotten used to, but in the earlier days of your relationship, it took you awhile to get used to how cold he was. He wasn’t someone who craved affection, which meant 90% of the time you were the one that had to initiate interactions with him, even the little things like hand-holding. But over time, he had gotten used to the random pecks on his cheek, and your hugs from behind, and every now and then he would call you by a name that wasn’t your own, or pull you in for an unsolicited smooch session. “Is that what you want to do today?”

“Unless you want to do something else. It’s up to you,” Shou answered, placing the bowls he had finished washing on the drying rack before shifting his attention towards the empty food bowls by the fridge.

“I think that sounds like a plan,” you smiled, standing up from the table to pass your boyfriend a can of cat food from the pantry. At the sound of the can opening, you watched the eyes of your black house cat open, and after a short stretching session, the pitter-patter of her little feet on the hardwood was heard throughout the living room. For a second or two, you watched to make sure that she paced herself while she was eating, worried that she might choke on the pellets.

“Y/n, Luna is going to be fine. I don’t know why you worry about her so much,” Shou sighed, picking up her water bowl and trailing over to the sink. You listened to the soft purrs of your cat as she ate from her white food bowl, decorated with black fish and crossbones patterned around the rim, before the sound of the tap running filled the silence of the kitchen. You had found Luna one day in the parking garage. You remember how scared she looked when your eyes met hers through the windshield of your car. She was half dead and starving and in no condition to be running the streets the way she was. The next month and a half consisted of you and Shouto taking her to vet appointments and learning how to function with the new addition to your family.

“Well, she is our practice kid, right? If I do a good job parenting her, then the skills should automatically transfer over when we have a real kid to take care of,” you said very matter of factly, watching the muscles in Shou’s forearm flex as he squatted to place the water bowl down where it had originally sat.

“So how about you pop the popcorn and I set up the movie, that way we can do the fort together,” you asked, already moving towards the living room. You heard a quick hum from Shouto followed by the sound of his slippers hitting the kitchen titles. You shuffled through Shouto’s Blu Ray collection, picking out some of his favorite movies along with your own.

Just as you were about to shift your attention towards trying to figure out how to work Shouto’s ancient DVD player, the lights in the living room went out, then the ones in the hallway. You turned your head to Shou, who was standing in the kitchen, pressing the buttons on the microwave in frustration, trying to get it to work again. You moved to pick up Luna, ignoring the painful sting of her nails scratching your skin before walking towards your confused boyfriend in the kitchen corner.

“Babe, I think the power is out,” you said, placing your hand on top of his, successfully grasping his attention. “I think we should call the landlord.”

ミ☆

While you listened to the conversation Shouto and the landlord were having on the phone, you checked in with your neighbor across the hall, asking her if she was having the same problems but most importantly, making sure she was okay. She told you that her power had gone out too and assured you that she and her family were doing perfectly fine. After you had texted her goodbye, you turned to Shou, who had just finished up his call. “It looks like the power for the whole city is out,” he sighed, and that was pretty sucky, but the sad look on his face bothered you even more.

“What’s wrong, Shou? Is having internet really that important to you,” you joked, trying your best to lift his spirits only to be met with a heavy sigh.

You felt the weight of the couch shift under you, and you watched as Shouto took your hands in his. The feeling of his warm, calloused palms against you, along with the intertwining of your fingers, was one of your favorites in the world. You looked up from your hands and into Shouto’s eyes only for him to already be looking right back at you. “It’s not about the wifi. It’s just that today was finally going to be a chance for us to spend some time together. We may work at the same agency, and sleep in the same bed, but recently I’ve just felt really… distant from you,” he confessed, and you had to admit it was a bit odd for him to be the one complaining about distance.

You felt more than a little guilty as all the times you turned down eating lunch with him in favor for a couple extra minutes of gym time, or the times you would come home after patrolling into the late hours of the night, only for Shouto to be fast asleep, came rushing back to you. You couldn’t stop the tear that had rolled down your cheek or the ones that followed after that as you stared back at the sad eyes piercing your soul. “I’m really sorry, Shou,” was all you could manage to choke out before you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug that spoke all the words you were unable to.

Confusion was evident on Shouto’s face, he didn’t expect his sudden outburst expressing his feelings to have the effect that it did on you. Uncertain on what to do with his hands, Shou settled on rubbing your back, trying his best to calm you down, “I didn’t mean for you to cry Y/n. I’m sorry if I said anything to offend you-”

“I’m sorry for being the worst girlfriend ever. I can’t believe I put my job before you,” you sobbed, feeling bad that he had to put up with you for the past couple of months, “Look our day isn’t completely ruined. We can still build the fort, and instead of watching movies, we can… catch up on some reading!” You watched the smile on Shouto’s face slowly grow into a big goofy grin before he nodded in agreement with your idea.

☆彡

Shouto had taken responsibility for the fort’s structure, making sure the blankets were secure in the way they draped over the back of your kitchen chairs and that there was enough room in the fort for the two of you plus Luna. You were on comfort detail, scouring the apartment for pillows and fluffy blankets, seeing as the heat had gone out it was up to you to make sure that the members of your household didn’t freeze to death. 

After what felt like hours, but was really just thirty minutes (something Shouto was sure to remind you of every time you complained), of hard work and bickering about the placement of certain pillows and where to lay the blankets, you and Shouto were able to take a step back and look at the masterpiece you and he had created. “It’s beautiful,” you said, feeling on top of the world and full of pride because you knew that you and your boyfriend had just built the most perfect fort that had ever had the pleasure of gracing the earth. The base of the pillow fort was decked out with your thickest and most comfortable blankets and fluffiest pillows, seeing as that would be where you would be relaxing, so of course, you would want it to be as comfy as possible. Surrounding the fort were four chairs, all an equal distance from each other, on top of those laid your thinnest blankets, Shou had decided that they were the least likely to weigh the fort’s structure down. The mix-matched colors and patterns of your fort happened to compliment each other in the best way, which only added to its beauty.

You got on your hands and knees to crawl inside, considering that the fort was nowhere tall enough for you to get inside any other way. You were waiting for Shou to join you, but instead, you were met with your pet cat’s soft purs. You heard Shouto’s footsteps descending back to the kitchen, and you waited a minute or two for him to join before you let your curiosity get the best of you, “Whatcha doing over there, Shou?”

“Just give me a minute, I’ll be right there love,” the sound of the nickname he didn’t use too often made your stomach once again fill to the brim with butterflies. You looked over to Luna and gave her an excited smile, and in return, she gave you a quick ‘meow’ before going back to licking in between her paws. 

To fill the time, you decided to start one of the books Shouto had picked out for you to read. It was called Broken Things and much to your surprise, the book was actually really interesting, the story followed this girl who was willing to give away everything for the happiness of others, regardless of the repercussions it had on her life. You were sure he was trying to send you a message because Shou saying you were too nice was a complaint you heard leave his lips way too often.

When Shouto finally came back, he had a mug in each hand, proving it to be rather difficult for him to get inside. You took the cups from his hands to help him watching as he got down on all fours like you had earlier and  inside to join you and Luna, the warmth of the cups was a nice difference from the cold air in the room. “Is this hot chocolate? The gas is out too, right? How did you make this,” you asked, your eyes wide with awe because he had remembered your favorite drink, something you had told him when you first started dating. Your eyes followed the small smile on your boyfriend’s lips as he took a seat to the left of you before reaching for his drink.

“This same way I can do this,” he said, pulling you in closer so you could feel the warmth of his quirk. You snuggled in close to the human radiator sitting next to you, setting your cup down in favor of picking up where you had left off in your book, Shou doing the same.

After what couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes, you broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, to ask Shouto a question that you had been bugging you all day, “The office didn’t call for an off day did they?”

“How did you know,” he asked, looking over at you like a kid that had been caught drawing on the walls.

“Agencies don’t call for off days dummy, they can’t have all the heroes on break when there’s still people out there to save. Plus, you’re terrible at lying, I could tell you weren’t telling the truth the moment after you said it,” you looked up from the page you were on and into the heterochromatic eyes that had been staring at you.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question too,” Shouto asked, receiving a hum from you in return, “You mentioned earlier you said work was your second favorite part of the day, what’s your first?”

Once again, you looked up from your book, completely abandoning this time it in favor of laying your head on Shou’s chest and closing your eyes before answering his question, “Waking up next to you.”

You couldn’t see him, but you already knew his usually pale cheeks were slowly turning to a shade of rosy pink, and you cursed yourself for missing out on seeing his reaction.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Shou.”

#shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #writing?

[avery-allyss]

I guess this could be worse.

The assignment was to create a design based off of one or more creation myths. I have little hints of several because copying something too closely seems redundant. Yes it a bit of a confusing jumble and you need to stretch a lil to pick up all the references, but I like it that way.

Egg shape is from several myths, mainly because my favorite myth is the Finnish creation myth, which is also the source of the duck. I'll get more into that further down in the reflective portion of this post.

The yin/yang base for the devision of the egg is from Asia. The concept is more into the description of the energies, the yang being masculine firey intenseness of light, and the yin being the quite coolness of darkness.

The volcano ang glacier are derived from Norse mythology, and I played with the idea of making some sort of root system in the line separating the two to represent the beginning of yggdrasil.

The reeds and cat are from the native American myth. Something about a Reed carrying the founders through worlds, and loosing a war to cat people? It stuck in my mind.

This is the second time I've ever done print making, the first was over ten years ago and stamping a smaller design on an extra large Tshirt I still use as pjs.

The entire process was a mess.

We had one linoleum panel to work with. We had to carve away each color we wanted to keep.

I started slow because the white and yellow layers were so complicated.

I miss measured the paper size so the back of all four copies are a mess.

I made four copies, and every one had a different mystake. The one showed was the only one that the cat showed up on.

I fucked up carving alot, I just got good at covering it up.

The duck has no bill. I tried to make up for it by giving them an intentional halo, it didn't quite work.

The reeds are too short. This actually gives off a slightly more organic vibe than I was going for. I'm not quite sure if I like it.

One of the sun swirls is broken up a bit because my hand sliped.

The blue layer was off and ended up giving the volcano some highlight. It pops a little until you realize it's out of place, so I don't like it.

Printed red through black in one day, my entire arm hates me still. I had my entire arm tensed to prevent slip ups. It's not so bad right now because my mom told me which med to take today, but I couldn't sleep on that side or my back very well last night. At least I didn't break skin when I stabed myself! I need to lay off crocheting, but that's how I decompress...

I will repost with individual pictures of each copy and the drawing on Monday, that's when the crit is anyway.

What I would do differently

Smaller egg, let the corners interact with each other a bit.

I would play with the idea of white clouds, or white with black highlights.

I would make the sun swirls part of the red gradient. I would also simplify their shape to make them easier to carve.

I would look at different ways to portray the cat. Maybe I would play with the idea of red eyes on the cat. Red claws to represent violence? Cause I'm not going to ever go all in on a horrific portrayal, hints have to do for kitty.

Multi colored and more consistent pebble bed. Maybe mossy rocks or sand with grasses growing in? Seeds? Arthropods to pull in yet another creation myth?

Duck would have a bill and a halo or some sort. There plenty of methods to imitate and explore.

I would play with the idea of defining individual rock structure on the volcano and the small waterfall.

Gemstones on the volcano?

Maybe not even do a volcano, and just make a black dragon on a mountain? Chinese style to keep up with the theme of creation?

Shade the reeds in gradients, maybe make thin red lines to imitate their texture?

Dragonflies by the reeds?

Green layer to add moss and lichen, as well as springtime pigments for the reeds as opposed to fall, can you even marble shades effectively in print making? Green detailing on the cat would start getting Erie.

Yggdrasil roots in the division, multi color highlights on yellow, tiny branch coming around to poke out by the sun?

Grey to black gradient instead of straight black for the outline?

Use a digital painting software instead of actualy carving it all. That's the only way I will play with this image again.

The Finnish Godess of Creaton

Luonnotar

Once the universe was comprised of three things.

There was nothingness, a vast unmeasurable abyss where not even a single star shone. The power of stillness was held in the dark expanse.

There was a river, a mysterious flow of swirling posability. The power and movement of the universe was held in the 'waters'.

And lastly, there was a girl. Luonntar was the daughter of the stillness of the abyss and the power of movement. She was alone, and there was nothing for her to do, no way to express herself, or to release energy, or even just simply enrich her life. She did not know companionship, so she did not know to be lonely. She did not sleep, nor did she truly live. She only felt emptiness. There was no pain to be felt, nor was there joy to be had.

Something changed. Something tightened in Luonntar's chest, as though her heart was hurting. Over another eternity she came to recognize the pain as desire. Into her emptiness had flowed a blind longing. She wanted something but she did not know what there even was to want. She wanted change, but because she never experienced anything but the same river and the same darkness, she had no idea what it was she wanted.

Slowly (as everything so far had), an idea budded in Luonntar's mind, the first idea ever in the universe. She jumped into the river and swam. She did not sink, but floated on the surface, looking back up to the darkness she had left from. This action permanently altered the universe, though seeing how took some more time (of corse). In the meantime the girl relaxed as she drifted through the river.

Then came a duck ((grapes are not involved in this myth stahp)) swimming up to Luonntar. A duck, in a universe where there had only ever been one being, now there were two! With Luonntar's change and wish, she changed the entire universe and a new world was created in which the duck could exist too.

The curious bird swam around the girl looking at the strange other being, the girl laying very still as she did the same. The duck climbed up onto Luonntar's warm knee and sat. Then something else happened, something so beautiful that Luonntar could not believe her eyes.

The duck layed three eggs there upon the goddess' knee because it was the only warm dry place in the entire universe, and the only place the future could hatch.

Luonntar kept so very still, anxious of the fragile life prched upon her knee. The duck warmed her clutch as they grew hotter and hotter as the future drew near.

Luonntar yearned for that future like she had never yearned before, bringing back the dull pain from before. She ignored it.

The eggs grew uncomfortably hot, the ducks featherstickled her, and the bebed feet left tiny scratches on her. She ignored it all.

Suddenly the duck shifted, her feathers tickling Luonntar and she couldn't help but to twitch reflexively. She did not mean to but it was enough. She watched horrified as the eggs tumbled into the river. She berated herself, fearing for the eggs. Would they sink forever out of sight? Would the future be lost?

Instead the eggs broke open. Marvels poured forth. The yolks joined into the sun and rose up into the abyss. The whites became a silver moon, rising as well. The tiny bits of the shells became the stars, scattered disjointed with the rest of the remains of the three eggs. In a world where only darkness had existed, light was born. It was magic.

Luonntar was changed by the magic, as she dove beneath the surface. Something was calling to her from the depths. It was the mud at the bottom. She grabbed handfuls and swam back to the surface. She molded a cone from the mud upon her belly and placed it on the surface of the river. It rose into the sky and became a mountain.

She dived again and again, returning to the surface to mold more new landscapes. She carved veins of rivers through the land, scooping out lakes. The stars watched in fascination. Inspired, they rearranged themselves into designs. The moon learned out to show its changing face to the earth.

As Luonntar built the land, life burst forth. Plants grew, creatures came to be. All life was the children of the new earth. When the goddess rested at long last and looked at the bright sky, the green foliage, and the lively children, she knew it was good.

((Adlibed from "Wild Girls" by Patricia Monaghan))

#crafts #art #myths

[theeverlastingshade]

Pitchfork Music Festival 2021 Recap

This year I finally attended the full 3 day Pitchfork Music Festival after years of deliberation. There's no way my enjoyment of the experience wasn't compounded due to live music having been on hiatus in the United States since March 2020, but I suspect that I would have enjoyed it all the same if that hiatus hadn't transpired. Pitchfork put on an impressive festival defined by  a superbly paced, and varied roster of some of the most exciting up and coming artists, legacy artists, and plenty in between. While not a perfect festival by any means, Pitchfork nonetheless showcased what was close to a small to mid-size festival ideal.

Each day was paced well, alternating between sets from acts on either the green or red stage juxtaposed with electronic or folk acts on the blue stage across the park. Friday alternated between the weirder, artier folk/pop acts and various electronic producers running the gamut from the headier, house strain of The Soft Pink Truth, to the skull rattling rush of techno from Yaeji. The pacing between sets worked pretty well, and the only substantial runoff was Yaeji's relentless low-end creeping into Big Thief's set (and again on Sunday with FlyLo's music bleeding into Cat Power's set). For the most part, nothing felt particularly overwrought or ill-considered from a booking or performance perspective, and the day consisted of the sort of purposeful curation that just isn't common at most music festivals at this point in time.

The heavier acts were generally relegated to earlier slots, (with the exception of Ty Segall Freedom Band on Saturday) while the bulk of legacy acts and zeitgeisty up and coming artists performed later in the day. It's hard to deny that many artists really brought it like Dogleg, but at this point in Pitchfork’s existence a melodic hardcore/emo band isn't going to be granted more than an earlier/mid-afternoon slot. The diversity of the artists was far more varied than could have reasonably been expected from a post-Conde Nast curated lineup, but the lack of metal, shoegaze, drone, or noise was still a bit of a letdown.

Dogleg were an exceptional early set that blew most of the following artists away. The bulk of their setlist came from their 2020 debut LP, Melee, and it all translated as well to a live setting as could have been expected from that kind of high-wire energy. They also seemed like one of, if not the closest band to exemplify aspiring rock stardom, and they delivered a raucous set filled with cartwheels and windmills, and other kinds of fun guitar antics that bands just don't seem interested (or capable) of executing. The vocals were a little rough around the edges in spots, but they played with remarkable dexterity and chemistry, making a strong case for the staying power of capital-B bands in an era where the solo artist still reigns supreme.

The first electronic act of the festival that completely blew me away was Drew Daniels, aka The Soft Pink Truth. Daniels drew the most from his latest and finest LP, Shall We Go On Sinning So That Grace May Increase, fleshing out the music with a more aggressive low-end that complemented the ambience of the songs beautifully while giving them a heightened edge. The songs continued to build to ecstatic heights without losing their shape, and each flowed superbly into the next without the stiches ever showing. Towards the end of his set Daniels began to draw more from his great 2014 black metal influenced record, Why Do the Heathen Rage? for some of the most chaotic, and eclectic mixing that transpired all weekend.

Even with the absence of founding member and guitarist Matt Kwasniewski-Kelvin, black midi were as great as they've ever sounded, this time rounding out their lineup with a keyboardist and a saxophone player, which is only to be expected given the more prog-leaning approach that they took on their latest LP, Cavalcade. Although a band like black midi is best suited for a seedy, beer stained club than any kind of outdoor festival the new material translated well to this specific context. The songs on Cavalcade are more sprawling, and lend themselves better to lengthier jamming than their earlier material. Throughout their set, black midi managed to breathe some fresh new life into these songs without ever quite extending anything past its welcome. They remain a satisfying anomaly at a festival like Pitchfork, and within the greater sphere of contemporary music as a whole.

The most unpredictable, and satisfying set of the night came from Animal Collective. They returned to Pitchfork with the full-band, four piece setup that was somewhat reminiscent of their dynamic while touring the material for their 2005 opus, Feels, with the exception of Deakin primarily playing keys and synths instead of guitar (except throughout highlights "The Purple Bottle and the "Grass" b-side, "Fickle Cycle", both from that aforementioned era). In proper fashion, they predominantly played new material, which took the form of lounge-flecked psychedelia that continues to make good on their path towards jam band ascension. Aside from the Feels era cuts they also performed Merriweather Post Pavilion cuts "In the Flowers" and "No More Runnin'", and “Unsolved Mysteries” from Strawberry Jam. It was thrilling to hear Panda Bear behind the kit bashing out tight floor tom/cymbal rolls, and Geologist occasionally abandoning his rig for some time with the Hurdy Gurdy. They capped off their set with "The Purple Bottle", and Avey was in top form singing and shrieking his way through the jubilance with tight precision. There are very few bands that continually change their setup, challenge audience expectations, and experiment with form even in the midst of live performances quite like Animal Collective, and on Friday it payed off remarkably.

There are also very few active bands that display the kind of immense inmate chemistry that Big Thief have, and it was palpable throughout their entire set. The band drew from all four of their albums, leaning heaviest on their exceptional pair of 2019 records, U.F.O.F. and Two Hands, with a few great new/previously unreleased songs thrown in. Their most stirring performance arrived with "Spun Infinity", a Lenker solo song that the band helped build into a rousing sing along. They've played it both times that I've seen them, and it's grown in potency each time that they played it (here's hoping it makes that next record). They delivered highlights from both spectrums of their sound, from the lush sway of "Cattails" to the searing eruption of "Not", with older favorites like "Shark Smile" and "Masterpiece" thrown in for good measure. They closed their set with a new song called "Dragon" that was even more intense than the songs from TH, cementing the notion that they're among the best bands active, and one that's still getting better with each record and show.

It wasn't surprising that Phoebe Bridgers headlined Friday given what a massive glow up in popularity that she experienced throughout last year, but her set couldn't help but underwhelm following right on the heels of Big Thief. Her performance was serviceable, with subdued highlights like "Scott Street" and "Garden Song" retaining the melodramatic arcs of the source material, but her set generally lacked the sense of risk, experimentation, or versatility that Big Thief and Animal Collective carried in spades. The lack of dynamics and variation doesn't necessarily hamper the cohesion of her records, but it left quite a bit to be desired from her headlining set. There’s no question that Phoebe’s a talented artist, and she’s already released a handful of good records in the brief span of time that she’s been professionally recording, but her music doesn’t necessarily lend itself to a particularly strong festival headlining performance yet.

On the whole, Saturday didn't quite match the highs of Friday, but there were still a handful of great performances. The lineup was arguably more sonically diverse than either Friday or Sunday, and it showcased the strongest balance between veterans and up-and-coming artists. Bartees Strange delivered a solid performance that exuded the soulful intensity of his recorded output, but it wasn’t quite as gripping as the searing performances early in the day that Dogleg and Special Interest delivered. Divino Nino sounded far more raw than they come off on record, delivering a solid performance only occasionally hampered by muddy basslines. Maxo Kream was charismatic, and engaging, but his performance lacked the intensity of his raps on record. Things didn't really pick up until Waxahatchee's set. Waxahatchee drew most predominantly from her terrific 2020 record, St. Cloud, with a few older highlights like "Silver" thrown in as well. Katie Crutchfield's voice sounds just as strong live, as it does on record, and what the band's performance somewhat lacked in SC's urgency she made up for in gorgeous melodic phrasing.

Aside from Kream, and a few particularly propulsive selections from Divino Nino, things generally remained in a low-key, blissed out temperament perfectly emblematic of the inoffensive chill malaise of mainstream indie up until Ty Segall and his Freedom Band took the stage, and then things took a complete 180. Ty Segall is inherently a throwback, to be sure, from the sonic parameters of his records, to the pacing of his output, to his career trajectory built on relentless touring with an indifference to the expectations of individual branding and fan engagement. All of which makes him an exciting prospect at any sort of festival; there's was some explicit potential for real spontaneity. And while the band mostly stuck to cuts from Segall's recently released, synth-heavy Harmonizer, they also performed a few of Segall's classic cuts like "The Only One" and "Love Fuzz". Everything was heavier, and more aggressive than it comes off on record, with The Freedom Band exuding an impressive level of chemistry that heightened everything that they performed. It would have been nice to hear some more range given just how disparate Segall's discography is (a cut from Sleeper or Goodbye Bread as a breather would have gone a long way towards helping smooth out the pacing), but they still delivered an exciting set with the kind of unrelenting intensity that the festival could have used a little more of.

One of the most intriguing acts going into the festival for me was the prospect of a solo set from Kim Gordon. She released a terrific record in 2019 called No Home Record, but that’s technically the only solo project to her name, and it was hard to say what else she might draw from, and how well the insular music from that record would translate to a festival setting. Gordon was backed by a standard guitar, bass, drum trio while she predominantly provided vocals, and some occasional guitar playing as well. They just played the entirety of NHR all the way through, and yet her set was still the most unorthodox and engaging of Saturday. The music was layered with the usual dissonance and distortion of all her work, but the slyly funky rhythms and jagged no wave guitars were interwoven into some new shapes that service her sparse vocal melodies well. The music translated much better to an outdoor festival space than I had anticipated, in no small part due to the versatility and straight up intensity of her drummer. It was hard to believe that Gordon was able to restrain herself from saying fuck the governor of Texas until the last 15 minutes of her set, but given everything that Gordon has ever stood for the sentiment couldn’t have possibly gone unsaid. It was a welcome reminder of her steadfast commitment to feminist ideals amidst an abrasive set that never quite buckled under the weight of her legacy.

The only mention of 9/11 that I remember was Angel Olsen claiming to have been inspired to write a new song the night prior to the anniversary only to jump into "Shut Up Kiss Me". The absurdity of the sentiment was only matched by a fan asking Olsen if they could throw broccoli on stage, and then actually delivering on the request after she gave it the thumbs up. For all the self-seriousness of her recorded output she certainly seemed to be enjoying herself far more than she generally lets on throughout her records. Her set predominantly featured songs from her last and best record, All Mirrors, with a few songs from My Woman and a handful of earlier cuts sprinkled in. Olsen's band consisted of two guitarists or two keyboardists depending on what she was playing, and was rounded out with drums, bass, synths, a violist, and a cellist. You probably wouldn't necessarily have guessed that was her first set in 2 years given how strong the band's chemistry was, particularly during the AM cuts. She carried herself with the theatricality of a natural performer completely in her element. For Olsen’s last song of the night Sharon Van Etten made a surprise appearance to join her for their collaborative single “Like I Used To”, delivering an immensely satisfying cap to just over a decade long creative and commercial ascension for both singular artists.

As expected, Jay Electronica pulled out of the festival last minute. He was replaced by RP Boo who took Jamila Woods' set time, and Woods took Jay's slot. Jamila performed a strong set, with the only misstep being her underwhelming cover of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit". She drew predominantly from her last and best record, LEGACY! LEGACY!, in addition to a few older cuts, and a promising new song. Her voice retained the understated grace, and effortless control of her recorded output, and the band behind her (particularly the drummer and keyboardist) elevated her songs with tight grooves and virtuosic keyboard vamps. Along with Waxahatchee, Jamila delivered some of the strongest melodies of all the acts on Saturday without missing a step. It was incredibly satisfying to see an artist from Chicago take a slot that late in the day, and absolutely crush it. If there’s any justice in the world she’ll be playing larger slots and festivals within the next several years to come.

Annie Clark, aka St. Vincent, is a reliably great performer, and despite the lackluster quality of her last two records her set was much tighter than they'd suggest. Aside from a corny bit where Annie pretended that her sister called her while dropping a P4K 6.8 joke, and seemingly drawing attention to the lukewarm reception of her last record, Daddy's Home (a far worse record than Pitchfork acknowledged in their review), in light of her headlining status, her set was immensely engaging. For the most part she thankfully eschewed that kind of performative exhaustion and eye-rolling by breathing some new life and renewed energy into her songs by way of tight chemistry, great harmonies, and occasionally just fucking ripping into guitar solos. Very few artists had guitarists that can play guitar like Annie, and only Dogleg, Ty Segall, and Yves Tumor seemed to match her aspiration of traditional rock stardom (and of those three, only Yves Tumor was on the same level of her stage presence). Naturally, some of the DH songs fell a little flat, while a few of the songs that predated Masseduction were transcendent. After seeing her twice now it seems pretty evident that no matter how disappointing her records become, she’s still going to deliver a pretty strong show.

Sunday was defined largely by hip-hop and r&b, but there was still some nice variation earlier on in the day. Special Interest kicked things on Sunday off with an urgent performance that retained their aggressive no wave meets four on the floor energy. Although their music is much better suited for a dank basement club, their serrated beats and overall bombast still translated fairly well to the dust-ridden grounds and dry Chicago heat. There were some minor vocal flubs, and some stiff pacing, but they brought some much needed teeth to the day's proceedings right out of the gates. Special Interest have only released two records to date, but their performance reaffirmed that they’re on to something truly singular.

Aside from Dogleg, oso oso were the only fifth wave emo ambassadors that played Pitchfork, and their set was unsurprisingly among the weekend's highlights. Still riding high from their sublime 2019 LP, Basking in the Glow, oso oso delivered a rousing performance imbued with the sugary, top notch vocal melodies that play a large role in shaping their records (oso oso frontman Jade Lilitri is still completely in a league of his own when it comes to writing vocal hooks). They played a few older songs, including Real Stories of True People Who Kind of Looked Like Monsters highlight "Where You’ve Been Hiding ", but the bulk of their set was split between songs from the aforementioned BitG, and their 2017 breakout second LP, The Yunahon Mixtape, capping it off with their great 2018 single “gb /ol h/nf”. The band backing Jade sounded tighter than any I've seen perform with him in the past, freeing him up to just deliver his infectious hooks and prance around the stage. While plenty of acts delivered great melodies throughout the weekend, no one matched the sheer immediacy of oso oso. Oso oso have been making some of the best guitar pop of the last few years, and their live show captured the spark of their records.

Choosing to see Sean Bowie, aka Yves Tumor, over Thundercat was easily the most difficult decision that I had to make that weekend. Thundercat is always great live, and the last two songs that I caught after Tumor's set ("Them Changes" and "Friend Zone" respectively) were tight performances, but Tumor has quickly become one of the defining artists of our time. Bowie’s set brought the smoldering psychedelic glam rock of 2020s Heaven to a Tortured Mind, and their recently released The Asympomtical World EP to life with finesse and ferocity. The four piece band behind them featured guitar, bass, drum, and assorted electronics freeing Bowie to freely prowl about the stage howling, crooning, and shrieking as the songs demanded. The set drew the most from those aforementioned releases (which compounded just how badly I fucked up by not traveling any distance necessary to catch them while touring their 2018 masterwork, Safe in the Hands of Love), but they still dove into "Licking an Orchid", “Lifetime”, and "Noid", showcasing how well the avant-pop of their breakthrough works within the context of their current phase. It was incredibly heartwarming to see dozens of people legitimately moshing to avant-garde music, in addition to Bowie reveling in the immense goodwill that their game changing records deserve. Most of the sets that I saw throughout the weekend were great, but Bowie’s set felt like a particularly transcendent star-making moment.

As anyone who's seen Danny Brown live can attest, it’s always a great time, but you don't exactly know how he's going to perform, and his set on Sunday was no exception. He started off strong with "Dope Song", and one for the heads with "Black Brad Pitt", but within short order Brown began to stumble through a few cuts. Brown stopped many of the songs he performed after just a verse or two since he couldn't remember the rest of the words which made for a disjointed experience, but it also meant he was able to draw from more of his catalog (if only for a minute or two per song) than he would have otherwise. His flows were as sharp and controlled as ever, and there's no denying his idiosyncratic stage presence, particularly during classic cuts like "I Will" and "Grown Up". After shouting out his Bruiser Bridge label Zelooperz and Bruiser Wolf joined his set for a few songs which gave the proceedings a nice Bruiser Thanksgiving spirit. He played only a few tracks from his latest record, uknowhatimsayin? with the bulk of his set drawing on classic cuts from XXX and the tried and true festival staples that make up the bulk of Old’s b-side. While certainly not the tightest performer of the weekend, Danny Brown was easily one of the most charismatic and engaging, and on a handful of songs, like “Attak” from Rustie’s 2014 LP, Green Language, he proved that he's still one of the best rappers alive.

Flying Lotus emerged on the red stage towards the end of Sunday evening with his mind-bending visuals and light show well-intact. He started off playing cuts from his recently released Yasuke OST from the anime of the same name before pivoting to some remixes of old classics, with “Zodiac Shit” in particular teased with its original, iconic Adult Swim visual. The mixing throughout was as remarkable as anyone who’s seen FlyLo live would come to expect, and nothing overstayed its welcome, seemed forced, or uninspired. At one point Thundercat leapt up from the side stage to deliver vocals during "Black and Gold", and the chemistry between them was almost overwhelming. At two different points during his set FlyLo descended from the decks donning his Captain Murphy alter ego which allowed for some nice variation between the dense electronic onslaughts. In a shocking, but sublime move FlyLo ended his set with "Do the Astral Plane", a highlight off of his opus, Cosmogramma, that he doesn't play often, but is nevertheless the perfect festival send off, and yet another reminder of just how far he's taken his singular beat making.

Erykah Badu was only 25 minutes late for her headlining set Sunday night, but her performance was well worth the wait. She performed alongside a 9 piece band, and delivered tight renditions of classics from Baduizm and Mama's Gun, as well as some cuts from her great 2015 mixtape But You Caint Use My Phone. Her singing sounded just as strong live as it does on record, imbuing the music with the same hazy warmth that helped shape her strongest material. Badu’s backing band retained the multi-faceted sweep of her music while subtly enlivening it, and Badu herself had a commanding stage presence that bellied the understated swagger of recorded output. Badu’s set was the perfect send-off for what was by all accounts an extremely well structured and executed festival. Within a landscape of music festivals with homogenized lineups that generally don’t even give the illusion of curation or any sense of personality, Pitchfork 2021 was a satisfying anomaly that will hopefully continue within this vein for years to come.

#animal collective #flying lotus #yves tumor #big thief #kim gordon #erykah badu #dogleg #ty segall #waxahatchee #oso oso #the soft pink truth #black midi #special interest #danny brown #jamila woods #angel olsen

[spamaohno]

when i was a teenager, i thought every day about killing myself. i tried sometimes, too; i always woke up the next morning and just continued on with my life, existing on autopilot, never completely following through with more aggressive methods, because i was scared. of being hurt, or going to hell, or just scared of going in the first place. but life was so painful. existing every day felt like i was dragging myself across the desert with a ten ton weight on my back, desperate for water.

i don’t know why i felt this way. i had friends, a family who loved me, and i had food in my belly. back then, i had more free time than i knew what to do with. i spent my days drawing, and watching anime, and memeing on skype with my buddies. i played video games when i stayed up late. i was a kid. but still, every moment that wasn’t consumed by constant stimulation, where i wasn’t being loved on or entertained, i thought about ending my life. the in between moments were like torture. i dreaded when my friends went to bed because it meant being alone with my thoughts. i just didn’t feel like i had all that much to look forward to. i always knew i wasn’t any of my best friend’s best friend. i never had a consistent partner because nobody ever got that close to me. i felt like my parents preferred my siblings over me. i thought if i ever got close to anyone, they’d walk out on me. i felt numb, empty, and of little importance. i couldn’t imagine a future for myself.

then i grew up. i got on medication, and i didn’t feel that way for a long time. i didn’t have any reason to. i started to feel happy that i hadn’t succeeded. i finally found a best friend, and eventually i married her. my relationship with my parents got better. i started traveling the world, and learned what i wanted out of life. i began to aspire to things. for a while, i felt whole. i felt like all those years of numbness and pain were worth it in the end. for the first time, i could imagine children with my face, and what i wanted my first apartment to look like or how i wanted my dream house built. i picked out future pet names. I formulated a bucket list in my mind. i wanted to be an archaeologist and an architect and a veterinarian and a nurse and an engineer and an artist and an animator and a computer-scientist-because-that-pays-pretty-well-i-guess. i wanted a flat in london with my wife and our two kids and our cat and dog. i still do. i dream about it. i want it.

but lately, its been creeping up on me again. i think a lot about killing myself. everything good seems so far away, and the momentary feelings of joy in between feel less powerful than they once did. the world is a fucked up place. maybe i shouldn’t bring a child into this. maybe my wife would be better off without me. why did i think i would be good with a computer? how did i think i’d ever be good enough at what i do or sharp enough to pack up my life and move to another country? i can imagine it, see it in my mind’s eye, it feels so close… but it’s not enough. i hold on because i think it will get better. but then each day, it doesn’t get better.

its not so much that i want to die. its more like, i want relief from living - i want not to exist, here, as i am. i want to float away for a while with no pressure. there’s no crushing weight of illness or responsibility or obligation- only me. but this is impossible. i will only be as i am right now. and it’s awful. i want to hold on, for the people i love, but i struggle. i want to be strong for them, but i can’t crawl through the desert for so long without water. i’m not strong enough. the world is the ten tons beating me down and i don’t know how to get back up. at this point, i’m so used to laying here that i don’t know how to get to my feet.

#tw suicide #shut #im okay I think #im just hurting

[skrltwtch]

Muse

Prompt 1: Just like some people sleep-walk, you tend to paint or draw while in your transformed state because it calms you down. And apparently, people really like your art.

Prompt 2: A is a popular artist, and B messages them without thinking one day. They didn’t expect to become friends, and they definitely didn’t expect to become more. Person B just felt that connection between the two of them.

Prompt 3: A/Werewolf has a tendency to curl like a dog in front of the fireplace a lot (usually in their werewolf form, but it’s not uncommon for them to do it as a human). (Sources in master list)

Word count: 3,721 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, supernatural

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I put up with the long commute to and fro between home and work for two reasons, and two reasons alone: the decent rent for a place with a picturesque view and that catered to my monthly needs, and the glut of time to catch up on my reading. And by ‘reading’, I meant ‘scrolling through the handful of social media feeds that survived my latest cull of shit that was taking up my time and storage space unnecessarily, and occasionally attempting (and failing) to pay attention to my Kindle’. Hey, at least I was aware I had a problem …?

Instagram was my first hit of the day. I flicked past images of makeup, friends in situations I wouldn’t be finding myself in anytime soon, and cute animals. The occasional meme and comic draw out an exhalation of air from my nostrils. I marvelled at artwork and photography, half wishing I were half as good as the people I followed and admired, half chiding myself for not practising either enough and losing interest quicker than I’d dropped money on new equipment in the name of my new endeavours. You could say one of my hobbies, the ones I’d been consistent about, was amassing gadgets obtained to indulge my whims and fancies.

My heart skipped a beat — or was it the pothole the bus went over? — when I came across a new post by George. I didn’t know him personally to refer to him by his first name like that, but hadn’t social media broken down boundaries between people, making them seem closer to each other than they really were? He was an illustrator whose work I chanced upon on Reddit a while back. His portfolio was a patchwork of subjects, often portraits, rendered mostly in traditional media like watercolour and oil paint. He sometimes shook things up with abstract, contemplative pieces. He had something for almost everyone. For me, it was his attractive, angular yet distinctive faces and statuesque figures, use of watercolour, and versatility: one piece could be superhero fanart, followed by a collection of moody, atmospheric paintings of the English landscape with some fantastical additions.

It also helped that he seemed to be a nice, chill person, and a handsome one at that, too, based on the smattering of pictures he had of himself on his feed. Please, let me imagine a world in which someone as ideal as him — or what I knew about him — wasn’t beholden to anyone for a moment.

His latest post was a drippy bust of a snarling wolf with full moons for eyes. The caption simply read: ‘Mood.’ I smirked as I hit the like button. Did I mention that he drew wolves a lot as well? Sometimes his wolves were feral; sometimes they were humanoid, but still wild. The latter featured heavily in his conceptual works, albeit as hazy, indistinct forms, like blurry photographs. In any case, I liked that he had a fondness for wolves and werewolves, as the constant presence of the full moon in art of the latter would suggest. Anyone who liked wolves was a-okay in my book. Anyone who liked werewolves was even more so. Because.

An interrupted connection between my brain and my reflexes led me to visit his profile. Instead of returning to my feed, my thumb gravitated toward the message button at the top of the screen. Not a single cell in my body resisted this turn of events despite the restored connection. Oh, what the hell. Why not? Like, what were the chances he’d read my message? He had tens of thousands of followers, a likely considerable chunk of them being bots aside. He must receive DMs every other minute. I’d be another sycophant in his sea of fans. Or he’d see my homely mug and locked profile, and he’d think I was driven to add to his never-ending count of unread messages simply out of misguided thirst.

The beauty of the Internet was that it made ‘out of sight, out of mind’ fairly easy to put into practice.

I got the following out of my system and into his inbox: ’Hi! Hope you’re doing well. I’ve been following your Instagram for a while, and your latest post just made me want to say your art is amazing. (I can totally identify with the sentiment behind it.) I especially love your more abstract pieces. There’s something so … raw about them. And I like that you seem to like wolves a lot, too. They’re beautiful animals, and your art really captures that about them. Anyway, keep up the great work! Take care.’

I exited Instagram, not caring about the rest of my feed anymore and not wanting to feel like I was stalking my notifications for something that’d never come. My phone buzzed with several notifications as I went down my Reddit homepage. I swiped away the banners with green icons that pelted the top of my screen. Those could wait. What couldn’t were the banners stating that I had a new message and a new follower request from —

‘Oh, my God!’ I said, loudly enough for me to hear my own voice above my music (the chorus of Walk the Moon’s ‘Shut Up and Dance’ at half of maximum volume, so … loud). Not one soul on this lightly populated bus acknowledged my exclamation — not even the woman sitting next to me. (Come on, lady, the front was mostly empty.) Thank God for technology making hermits of us all. Or my sudden outburst paled in comparison to the shit that could happen and had happened on public transport. When you took long journeys as I did every day, you’d see some real shit in due time, too.

I launched Instagram for the second time this morning (stop judging, Screen Time) and the first time ever with trembling hands. The notifications were real. I approved his request first. My mind raced to recollect anything on my profile that might make him regret his decision to let my piddling photos of food, myself, my cat, and random junk take up precious space on his feed. Nope, couldn’t think about that now, because I was now staring at an actual, honest-to-God message from George:

’Hey! Thanks for reaching out, and thank you for your kind comments. They mean a lot to me, especially what you said about my experimental stuff and wolves. They are stunning creatures, aren’t they? And yeah, I drew that last picture after a particularly rough night. You could call it a self-portrait of sorts, I suppose.’

I snorted. Change the fur colour and make the eyes normal, and it was a portrait of myself every full moon. Okay, not something I could tell someone I just met, let alone a popular artist on the Internet …

Before I could recover from the shock that my inbox held an actual, honest-to-God message from George Holden (that was his last name — the oxygen made it to my brain for me to remember that he had his last name on his profile), he sent another one: ’Anyway, how are you? I took a look at your profile, and it looks like we have quite a number of things in common.’

What, really? No way. Was it the lashings of sweet treats I subjected my stomach to every weekend? The horror and science fiction titles, celebrity memoirs, and comics, sometimes paired with an iced coffee at either a café I put down roots for the afternoon or the one-bedroom house in Waltham Forest I called home, I showcased to put forth some form of air of intellectualism? The cross-stitch projects featuring memes and popular culture icons? His profile was quite barren of anything that could provide insight into what else he enjoyed doing besides his art. Which, hey, was perfectly fine: no one was obligated to share their personal life online.

I replied, ’I’m fine, thank you. I’m on my way to work. Favourite part of my day, really. And really? Like what?’

Most of my notifications that day were from him.

✦✧✦✧

I was a bustling hub of activity in my seat: A sip of my drink. A shake of my knee. A lift of my phone. A turn of my neck. A shift of my weight from one butt cheek to the other. I was certain I was generating enough electricity to power a lightbulb in five-second intervals. I couldn’t help it. I was so, so excited — and so, so nervous. This was my and George’s first time meeting each other in person. There’d be no screen between us. Actually, what difference would that make? We’d been talking to each other for months, either through text or video calls, the latter more common in the weeks leading up to today. We’d seen each other even on our ‘I’ll put on a clean shirt, brush my hair, and hope for the best’ days. What could either one of us do in person that would irrevocably alter our friendship for the worse? Well …

The sound of someone entering the café stopped me from starting on a list of things that I could do to fuck things up. I looked up, probably the seventh time I did so in the last ten minutes. This was on me. I grossly overestimated the amount of time it’d take me to get somewhere as usual; a natural by-product of living far from the city. Seventh — probably — time was the charm: it was George — and right on the dot, too. His punctuality added to his attractiveness, which had already gone through the roof and was heading straight into the stratosphere. I bit my lip to suppress any unfortunate exclamations. He was a friend, Evelyn … just a friend, and I had no illusions otherwise.

I called out to him. He waved at me and joined me at the table I picked out for us. And the second our eyes met, devoid of any barrier between us, everything about him — and everything about us — clicked.

He was just like me.

And I was just like him.

And he was as astonished about it as I was, going by the long silence that passed between us, a first since we got to know each other.

‘Hi! Oh, my God, it’s so good to finally meet you!’ I said with a grin to break the tension. He broke out into a smile, his posture relaxing. Success. Should I go in for a handshake? No, that’d be too stuffy for a months-old friendship. A hug? No, that’d be too intimate for a months-old friendship, and an online one, too, no less. Was it obvious this was my first time meeting someone I met online?

‘It’s good to meet you, too,’ he said, his expression of cheer unabating. ‘I’m going to get myself a drink first, and then we can shoot the shit.’ His smile turned into a grin. ‘Do you want anything? My treat,’ he added as he spotted me reaching for my wallet.

‘I was thinking a red velvet muffin, please.’ I didn’t know why I didn’t get one earlier. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem. I’ll be right back.’

As he left, my nerves turned into happiness that I met another werewolf. It was rare to meet other werewolves just about anywhere. What were the odds that two werewolves, one of whom was Internet-famous, would become friends because the other one had a brain fart one morning to send a message to the Internet-famous one? You couldn’t make this shit up. In all the years I’d been a werewolf, George was the first one I knew. I didn’t even know the one that turned me. I got bitten one night, and that was my life changed forever. I figured everything out on my own — I had to. And my puny social network of werewolves made sense: this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing anyone would advertise about themselves.

Once George settled down and courtesies were out of the way, the first thing out of his mouth was ‘I never thought I’d meet another one like me’.

I moved my chair closer to him so that we could speak at length about what we were without the fear of being overheard. ‘Me neither.’ Then it hit me, and I quickly said, ‘It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, though.’ Personally, I was okay with what I was. No existential dread here, contrary to what one might expect of a werewolf. It happened. I learnt to manage it in a way that made it not have any kind of significant impact on my life. I refused to let it define me. And honestly, I lived for particularly bad days that coincided with full moons.

‘Are you kidding me?’ His face lit up with boyish glee. ‘I’ve been waiting for this day for so long! As in, us meeting up in person for the first time and me getting to know another werewolf. Two birds, one stone: the only kind of killing I endorse. And I’m so fucking chuffed it’s you. I always felt like I could talk to you about anything, and now that really, really means anything.’ It was his turn to be able to power a light bulb, but in twenty-second intervals this time.

‘Same. How were you turned?’

‘I was bitten during a camping trip with friends a couple of years back. You?’

‘Secondary school. I was walking home from the library.’

‘Shit, that was some time ago, huh?’

‘Almost half my life a werewolf.’

‘Do you know the werewolf that did it?’

‘Nope. How about you?’

He shook his head. ‘Nah. Kind of sucks, doesn’t it, that you’ll never get to know the person who’s changed your life so … deeply? They won’t remember either that they turned someone. If only having kids was like that, yeah? Absolutely no sense of responsibility whatsoever.’ He gave his teaspoon a lazy twirl, causing a faint plume of milk to rise and sink into the dark, bittersweet depths from whence it came. ‘I struggled with what I’d become the first couple of months. The transformations were one thing.’ Oh, yeah. ‘I felt … grotesque. God, the amount of self-pity, like, why was I the only one who had to go through this every month when there were four other guys ripe for the picking? So, I decided to start incorporating wolves in my art to get to know and reclaim that part of me. I didn’t want to see it as something ugly. I mean, you get to experience a kind of rebirth every month. That’s extraordinary if you think about it. And I told myself that like myself, the wolf didn’t ask to be born. Ha, ha. Millennial humour. Anyway. Then the most miraculous thing happened one full moon: I woke up next to a coherent painting that wasn’t there the night before.’

‘Oh, my God.’

‘Right? My more artsy stuff? The ones I hate coming up with captions for? Almost all done while I was transformed. I’d started some of my art — bet you can’t guess which one — on full moons, too, and I finished them after I changed back. It’s as if the wolf knew we were now cool with each other.’ He took a big chunk out of his apple crumble and jammed it into his mouth. ‘Sorry if that sounded like spiritual woo-woo. I’ve been wanting to tell someone about this forever.’ Crumbs fell out of his mouth as he spoke. ‘Shit, I’m such an’ — he shot me an impish look as he swallowed — ‘animal, aren’t I? Fuck, I can make stupid references like that now, and someone would get it!’

I laughed. He was such a dork. ‘It’s not “spiritual woo-woo”. It’s amazing. How is that even possible?’

‘I have no idea.’ He held out his hands in front of him. ‘So thankful we get to keep our hands and not have them turn into paws.’ He waggled his thumbs. ‘Fuck, yeah, opposable thumbs. And I want to say it’s like when artists get high and make stuff. I do know artists who do that, and hey, no judgment. To them, I do the same thing, too.’

‘And here I am, feeling accomplished whenever I make it through another full moon without waking up in a trashed place. Seriously, that’s amazing.’

‘I think that’s what’s keeping me from losing it while transformed. I was surprised people liked those pieces when I started posting them, considering they’re such far departures from what I usually post.’

‘That explains why they’re so … visceral.’

‘Yeah? I figure you’d appreciate them even more now.’ He smirked. ‘And you know, no one really talks about my wolf art, and especially my werewolf pieces. Maybe if I didn’t make them blurry and made them more explicit …’ Oh, he’d get a different breed of followers altogether. ‘But that’s fine. I don’t want my lycanthropy to define me and my work. It’s just a part of who I am.’

‘My turn to say something possibly corny: I like your wolf art because … they make me feel seen, because they’re drawn by you.’

He put a hand on his chest. ‘That’s not corny. I’m happy my art makes you feel that way. You know I don’t care about the likes or comments. It just so happens I like drawing things that make me get likes and comments.’ He pushed his plate toward me and motioned at me with his fork to try some of his apple crumble. I obliged him. ‘Did you ever suspect anything? Not that, you know, I purposely drew wolves and werewolves as a kind of signal for other werewolves to pick up on. That’d be giving me way too much credit.’

‘No, I just thought you like wolves a lot.’

‘Same here. What you said about wolves being beautiful creatures when you messaged me the first time … that made me feel something, too.’

‘Then I’m very glad we got to be friends,’ I said. Born from the same blip in brain activity that set us on this path, my hand found itself on top of his. His touch had a pleasant, almost familiar heat to it.

‘Me too.’ He turned his hand over and clasped mine.

‘I have an idea,’ I said, mostly to distract myself from how right this felt. ‘Do you want to meet on the next full moon?’

‘Sure. I can’t wait to see what kind of inspiration will strike with another werewolf around.’

‘Your place, then?’

He nodded. ‘Unless you’re cool with me possibly trashing your place with paint and stuff. That hasn’t happened before, but who knows? What if wolf-me doesn’t like change?’

I stared at him in disbelief.

‘I can’t help it. You have no idea what kind of beast this has unleashed. Oops.’

We sat and talked in the café the entire afternoon; we took turns treating each other to food and drinks to justify our occupancy. Our conversation moved on to other topics besides the one special, biggest thing we had in common. Just like we didn’t want it to define who we were as people, we made a promise to each other, and we did so over a strawberry custard tart, that we wouldn’t let it become the foundation of our friendship from this point on. It’d be unfair to the moments we shared before this. We were friends because we cared about each other, we brought out the best in each other, we could truly be ourselves around each other, and, honestly, I didn’t think anyone else would have the patience for his goofy in-jokes.

✦✧✦✧

I lay in front of the fireplace, rejoicing in the warmth it offered on this cool night, while George was working on his newest painting. Since getting to know each other in these forms, we’d been able to exercise better control. For me, that meant greater peace of mind; for him, that meant a more refined grasp of his artistic sensibilities. As with much about our condition, we didn’t question this. What could possibly be a drawback of us spending more time in each other’s company? I now understood why animals curled up by a fire was a common sight in media and real life, too. Wait, what if this, and not George’s presence, was what I’d been missing all my life?

My tail wagging like a fiend when I felt his breath on my skin begged to differ. I licked his face. He gently parted my lips and slid his tongue onto mine. Our tongues engaged each other in a playful scuffle; the fire crackling in the background could only dream of coming close to causing the rise in temperature in the pit of my stomach. The tussle between our tongues didn’t get to turn into something more: he’d had a long night. I nuzzled him to convey reassurance. He lay down beside me and wrapped his arms around me, his hold firm yet tender. We fell asleep like this, keeping each other warm long even after the fire had died out.

We wished each other a good morning with a kiss — no, two kisses, and we got ourselves ready for the day. As we were having breakfast, George piped up, ‘Do you want to see what I painted last night, love? I’m really proud of it, and I think you’d love it, too.’

I nodded excitedly, my mouth too full of scrambled egg to speak.

He returned as quickly as he’d left the table. His hands held on to a painting … of me curled up by the fire last night. The figure was the clearest, most detailed he’d ever done; the lighting was phenomenal. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I said, tearing up a little, frankly. ‘I love it. It’s going to look so good in our new place’, along with the recent paintings he’d made of a similar nature. He’d come so far from the gauzy forms that once populated his attempts at capturing his — our — condition on canvas.

‘Of course, when I have the most stunning model.’ He gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘I love you, my muse, my mate.’

#exophilia #terato #werewolf #monster love #monster romance #mine #fun fact #I wrote this story in early october last year #and it's kind of truth in television for me now

[amisssunbeam]

A Little Response to Rhavewellyarnbag's latest Review of The Terror's "Horrible from Supper" (the italics are me)

Being another look at The Terror, episode 01x07, “Horrible From Supper”. But first, the characters in The Terror to whom I own an apology for the things I said last night when I was drunk, in ascending order of how vile it was: Francis. Yes, what I said was true, but I should not have said it. Goodsir, on general principle, because he is a nice man, and doesn’t deserve to have the likes of me talking about him that way. Author’s note: Only daily do I apologize to Harry Goodsir (fictional) for the things I say about him, and to Harry Goodsir (nonfictional) for the things I say about a fictionalized version of him. I like to think that the former would forgive me, but I think that the latter might not. I painted him from the few photos made of him; he has a delightfully reproachful look. Resting bitch face, even.

In the 1845 photos, his eyebrows come together in a way which could be interpreted as judgmental.  But, when we think of the trials of sitting for a daguerreotype at that time (not nearly as jolly and pain-free as depicted in “The Ladder” –forgetting about the subsequent Tuunbaq attack) Goodsir’s reproachful look might merely result from the tedium of having his picture taken (or that fatal tooth was beginning to hurt). Tozer. Though, again, I meant it, and, like, look, I defy you tell me that he doesn’t look absolutely stunning when he’s afraid for his life in “Terror Camp Clear”. 

“The Terror” certainly broadens the parameters of handsome-ness.  Tozer, while listening to Morfin singing “The Silver Swan”, is more attractive than, than, than the Moon!  Or the Pyramids!  He’s supernatural.

The ship before it weighs anchor, before it, in some fundamental way, becomes a ship. Not yet having fulfilled its function, it is more like a theatrical set. The notion of limbo is a fitting one: the men descending the ladder, coming from the bright, noisy world above, could be entering the afterlife.

Who’s the cat who does the words about utter existentialism?  Rod Serling, was that his name?  Did everyone see his episode of “The Twilight Zone” about the toys in the Salvation Army barrel?  Yikes.

Nothing is working as it should, logic is suspended, and the topsy-turvy world of the carnival will become real.

The movie “Topsy-Turvy” is a great favorite of la famille Sunbeam.  Even so, there are useful parallels between that film and “The Terror”: class clashes, pretense and pageantry, and mainly ripping away the fine lace mask of the Victorian era.  The attitude of the servants in both shows is strikingly craven.

“Any tips, sir, for a first-timer?”

In the super-heated world of fandom, “any tips for a first-timer��� sounds like the sort of pick-up line EC would use on the true Cornelius.

Poor Morfin.

Morfin is “The Terror’s” equivalent of the Victorian Little Nell.  Headaches, bad teeth, song-forgetter, probably a once-in-a-lifetime sodomite but nevertheless flogged for it.  When he and Tozer go out on that exploratory mission, he falls flat down and Tozer says something like “Don’t volunteer if you don’t have the bottom for it.”  (More heat for the fandom).  And he gets to be the first to see the severed heads. (Who thought Tozer and Morfin would make a good team for this task? Did they draw names?)  “Gently with that one, please.” It’s a little bit insensitive of Goodsir to express concern for his luggage before he does, Morfin, after Morfin’s just collapsed from pain, only looking like the living dead. That trunk, though, is Jacko’s tomb.

Harvey, your theory about Goodsir’s, ah, class-related selfishness is confirmed here.

“Are these our choices, Cornelius, or are they being made for us?” Gibson seems to falter, which is interesting. His idea to separate from the larger group doesn’t seem to be his own, which suggests that Hickey understood that it couldn’t be seen to have come from him. Gibson looks like death warmed over, but Hickey is just as perky as ever.

Gibson seems to get on-and-off injections of great intelligence, but his death-warmed-over look is consistent through the series.

 Hickey is also under-dressed, not even wearing a hat.

This is perhaps a very English-major thing to say, but there is a suggestion of a climate change (or a massive change in consciousness) occurring after Carnivale, as if the trauma of the fire left living dead who can no longer feel the cold, or, having felt so much fire, the survivors have had the idea of cold burnt out of them.

He does sometimes dress more appropriately, as in “A Mercy” when he was helping Hartnell transport supplies for the carnival. Suggesting that, in this scene, Hickey means to maximize his attractions. The obvious beneficiary is Gibson, but I think Hickey sees some value in displaying himself for Tozer, the one Hickey is really after, and has been since at least “Punished As A Boy”.

A sexy thought; how much nudity the men would crave.  When Hickey is flogged, he is completely exposed to the men present, and I think the sexuality of his having his pants pulled down really hits the sailors hard.  Francis alone looks like he’s going to climb out of his skin with the ferocity of his feelings (I won’t say desire, but that’s what I mean). Was it you, Harvey, or someone else who discussed how strong the thirst for touch must be among the Franklin Expedition?  I imagine the thirst to see bodies is just as powerful.

Then, I was immediately resurrected by the peek at Collins’ suspenders. He is... built like a cement outdoor commode. There is a lot of Collins to love.

The suspenders become iconic.  Collins is one very alluring sailor, even in his bulky sea-diving outfit with that great furry head sticking out.  Yet his sexuality seems neutered, compared to the other significant sailors  (Still, if Hollywood decided to make a chubby “Wuthering Heights”, Collins would make the perfect pudgy Heathcliff.) Author’s note: I don’t think Francis thinks very much of Goodsir, and the feeling is mutual. Goodsir has to obey Francis, but it’s duty without devotion, without deference, Goodsir having seen very little that would indicate to him that Francis has reformed himself. Francis may have stopped drinking, but he’s up to his old tricks, dismissive unless he wants something, ingratiating when he does. This is the way that Francis behaved toward Hickey, which gives an interesting contrast between Goodsir and Hickey: once Goodsir understands Francis’ motives, he’s no longer taken in; Hickey must understand that Francis was only drunk and trying to get into Hickey’s pants, but Hickey continues to try to make Francis like him.

Francis might resent Goodsir’s place in society, so settled and unique, while Francis himself has to maneuver around Sir John and James and all the rest.  But Hickey he can control.  (In a way, it’s a shame that Irving, the stupid old king of coitus interruptus, has to bust in again.  It would be in vain, and yet interesting, to consider what might have happened if that seduction had been consummated.  Think of the bickering harem Crozier could assemble: Hickey and Jopson and Gibson and then Irving, etc etc. (But this speculation, that a captain would handpick a seraglio of sailors,  is ruined by the knowledge that, despite all the porn stories and movies, there is no one a teacher would want less to seduce than her students.)

James has to move his little pick ax from one hand to the other to reach out to Francis, suggesting that, emotion aside, he made a conscious decision (his bones not yet reduced to broken glass) to grab Francis’ jacket, right over his heart, no less, and jostle Francis in a friendly manner.

This moment is comparable, to those who might be interested, to Star Trek: The Original Series’s “Amok Time” when Spock grabs Kirk by the arms. Quite the pensee could be written comparing Kirk-Crozier (the fair-haired captains) and Spock-Fitzjames, the haughty eyebrow-waggling second.  The latter’s reserve is melted, melted utterly by his realization of how much he loves his Captain. 

Author’s note: I am into Edward, but conditionally: I like him in that coat that makes him look substantial. Matthew McNulty is lovely, but he’s far thinner than I thought he was, which came as a bit of a shock.

His shortness is also quite astonishing. I can’t imagine Levesconte being involved.

Levesconte is too busy lying on his little officer’s cot, reminiscing about the time he said “benjo” and everybody cheered.

“There was a fourth man.”

I know you are referring to the raid on Silna in “Punished as a Boy”, but these words put one in mind of T.S. Eliot’s notes to the “Fire Sermon” in his “Wasteland”: “it was related that the party of [Anarctic] explorers, at the extremity of their strength, had the constant delusion that there was one more member than could actually be counted”.  Ah, the hypnotic potency of the top of the world.

Did Edward just grab Irving’s knee? Judging by Irving’s expression, yes, I think he did. I think he leaves his hand there for the rest of the meeting. Actually, no, he does not, but he appears to again bring it down to the general vicinity of Irving’s lower body.

I have run this scene over again and again and again (like the Zapruder film), and I think Edward does make an aggressively intimate gesture: “left and to the back, left and to the back.”  Irving does not seem displeased.

Hickey begins to assume what he imagines as Tuunbaq’s character. Having already, it’s implied, eaten part of Heather’s brain . . .

It is more probable that Hickey was just tapping at Heather’s brain, mainly because a brain IS not like a pudding; a pudding can be nibbled on without anyone noticing.  But if someone nicks a part of a cathedral, which is a self-contained entity, it would be noticed by, at least, Nurse Tozer.  Still Hickey might have tasted the cerebrospinal fluid, just for the Hickey of it.

When first aboard Terror, Hickey appears to be sizing up his new environment, but he also looks relieved, hopeful. It’s implied that he had a lucky escape from England, which had gotten too hot for him, but I think that he really believed that he was making a fresh start. Taking another man’s name was practical, perhaps a necessary evil, but I think that E.C. just didn’t want to be E.C. anymore.

I admire the symmetry of Hickey throwing a Neptune-sized bag down by Hodgson, thus startling him far more than one think a tough lieutenant would be startled.

Author’s note: . . Silna doesn’t fall into Goodsir’s arms, because there’s no reason why she would; she might like him, but he’s merely the least untrustworthy of a group of untrustworthy men who, by the end of the series, have not just made her home almost uninhabitable, but killed her father and her friends. Her discovery of Goodsir's body, the state it’s left in, confirms it: if this is what the British do to each other, she was lucky to get away when she did.

Hear hear!

By the way, if one is in the mood, another pensee could also be written about the real daguerreotypes of the Franklin expedition.  I am particularly amused by Gore and Fairholme.  Gore hates Lady Jane and this stupid thing she’s making him do. just so Sir John can be further exalted.  Fairholme picks up the vibe and poses just like Gore, only he has to borrow the affable Fitzjames’ jacket.

I think we’ve all been there.

[jpat82]

Sketch

@mandywholock1980 requested 5 & 35 with Tony.

5.) I have never been so insulted in my life. - You don't listen much do you?

35.) Smile, it makes your butt tingle.

     You could hear the steady thumping coming from high above you, the rhythmic sounds of bass, the whine of blasters slowing down. Everything was dark, dust hung heavy in the air, as the heavy weight from the collapsed wall pinned you to your place. You had managed to prop yourself up just a bit, there was just enough room to move your upper body around the wrecked building. Voices somewhere outside, too distant and too muffled to understand but you recognized them.

“Help!” You managed to wheeze out meekly. It hurt to take a deep breath, your ribs where for sure bruised from the fall. You shifted slightly try to relieve the steady ebbing of electric like pain spiking in your hip.

More muffled talking, you heard the sound of repulsors being blasted. You heart flutter as you thought about the man in candy apple red and gold. You flopped back on the broken cinder clocks beneath you and winced, you looked up into inky void above you taking another deep breath.

“Help!” You shouted with more force, getting pissed at yourself for this happening. The mission was straight cut, in and out. This should never of happened, the bomb, the explosion, you being hurdled hundreds of feet like a rag doll through a wall.

You had scoffed at Tony’s insistence of wearing the red and gold wrist device to help you in case you had gotten separated from the rest of the team. You were new, wanted to impress them all, plus it’s not like you didn’t have your ear piece and were in consistent communication with everyone else. Yet here you were, trapped under a crumbled building ear piece god knows where.

You tried hard not to let the hopelessness of the situation get to you as laid there uncomfortably, attempting to see if you could still feel your toes. You were stupid and naive, that and Cap was going to lay into you good for this and give you his disappointed dad look. That thought didn’t hurt as much as the thought of Tony realizing that maybe you weren’t cut out for this. He was the one that brought you on and now you were worried that he would change his mind.

“Help!” You screamed, it was weak but just a bit louder then last time.

You felt around with your hands above you face, finding a flat surface just above you. You brought your fingers to your forehead, hoping that slick wet feeling was blood. Blindly you found the flat surface. You started to draw the best you could in the dark, keeping the image in your mind what you wanted. Every so often bringing your hand back to your forehead to replace the blood that had been wiped off on to the wall.

Once you had hoped you had drawn the item the best you could you slammed your first on the wall surface. With a thump the speaker fell on you ribs, pain searing it’s way through you again. You wheezed out as you frantically felt for the microphone. This was the reason you had been brought on.

Once you had been a street a beggar, and once you had pick pocket from a man. He chased you down one the many alleys you usually took. You had already had the door dawn out in the event you needed it. As you turned the corner, with only six or seven feet ahead of the man with rose tinted glass, you slammed your fist into the drawing. Suddenly a the drawing became real and you opened the door slamming it shut in the mans face only for it to seal shut back into a wall. Whatever you drew became real with a slam of your fist. Except money, that you could never master.

You felt around on the speaker till you found the on switch, the hum of the speaker coursed over you after you flipped the switch. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Help.” You spoke into the mic, the speaker amplifying your voice. All movement and voices around you stopped brief, replusors powering down for a moment. You brought your hand up to the mic and started to thump it lightly, creating a rhythm. A panic voice shouted as the sound of people hustled in your direction.

“Y/n?” You heard Tony’s muffled voice somewhere above you.

“Tony?” You called back, the sound of blasters and replusor, bricks being torn away. Everything moved quickly, light began to seep its way in and before you knew it you were staring into chestnut eyes. The eye crinkles soften as his eyes tracked across your face, the silver in his goatee caught the light around him. You had forgotten that he was handsome till this moment when he was full worry, his guard was down for a brief moment.

“Alright etch a sketch, next time, you wear the device.” He chided you.

“But it didn’t match my outfit.” You jested back as he continued to pull the bricks off of you.

“Those colors match everything, I’ve never been so insulted in my life.” He retorted, eyes flicking back up to your face.

“You don’t listen much, do you?” You joked back, he raised an eye brow for moment.

“Now why would do I that.” He snarked in response.

It didn’t take him long to pull the remaining bricks off of you, slowly you propped your body up and looked down. Your leg was covered in dust, dirt and blood. You couldn’t tell if anything was broken, but judging from the look on Tony’s face, Friday had already told him how bad the situation was. The pain was almost all consuming and you knew it was bad.

“Tony?” You said softly putting your hand on the metal arm of his suit.

“Yeah?” His eyes tore away from your leg, finally meeting your.

“Smile, it makes your butt tingle.” You told him catching him off guard. Slowly the corner of his mouth pulled back.

“Leave to you, sketch, to crack a joke at a bad time.” He stated, sliding his arms under your body, you bit down on your lip as pain flooded through again. “So, what did we learn?”

“Don’t listen to Bucky when he says it’s an easy mission?”

Permanent tag-

@kitkatkl

@octobermermaid @ajosieface @instantnoodlese @crystlblu @coffeebooksandfandom @thisismysecrethappyplace @the-wayward-robot @lokilvrr @shynara51 @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl @loislp @savedbyimagination @bubblycypres87 @ifyousayyouloveme @courtmr @blue-cat-1989 @saharzek @lokiodinsoninwriting @silverhart93 @rynabarnesrogers @devilbat

#tony stark x you #tony stark one shot #tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark fic #ironman

[bullseyegames]

"Jellicle OC Prompt"- Item: Glue, Color: Purple (can't wait to see what you come up with!)

Oh I’ve actually had an idea for this based off of an article I read! If thou does not enjoy angst directed at a kitten, then thou should not look further. >:3

Her name is Tootsie. She is a white Turkish Angora with small grey marks running down her back. She has pale green/grey eyes and is still very much a kitten.

She was born a stray, though some cats debate this fact. While her mother and father had no official owner, they did live in the kitchen of a local bakery with the owner’s knowledge. Tootsie wasn’t truly sure how her mother felt about the baker, but tootsie adored him as he would constantly bake small sweets for her and her 3 siblings. Tootsie quickly grew a powerful sweet tooth which was shown to all with her first name.

Her mother and father wanted their children to learn the ways of the world and would let them wander about to explore the city. On one of these journeys Tootsie met her destiny in the form of a red and black kitten pacing outside of a junkyard. When Electra met Tootsie, she quietly confided in her fellow kitten about feelings of lonliness. “Everyone in the tribe ignores me and tells me to stay out of the way whenever the ball draws near... I just wish someone would pay attention to me.”. Tootsie looked at the young queen and grabbed a few small treats she kept on her person at all times and offered them to the her with a sweet smile. Thus began the fateful friendship.

Tootsie went to see Electra as often as she could, bringing different sweets with her every time. They would happily run around outside of the yards boundaries and occasional scamper into nearby alleyways to play in the junk piled inside. Eventually Alonzo discovered the kittens, but at Electras pleading agreed not to tell her parents as long as they played inside the junkyard. So the kittens played near the fence, happily enjoying the company of someone not of their own family. Playing near the fence had advantages, there were bigger junk piles, more obstacles to climb, and easy access to the exit for Tootsie. There were some problems though: they couldn’t hang out with other kittens, Alonzo had to go off his normal route to check on them, and, something no cat considered, they could be watched from the outside. And watched they were...

A pair of eyes followed a small white kitten as she happily tromped through a small alleyway to see her friend. In her mouth she carried a small kerchief of peanut butter cookies for her waiting companion. She passed through the alley, carefully avoiding a glue trap laid out to catch unsuspecting rats. Just as she was about to turn the corner she felt a pair of clawed paws latch onto her. Immediately she screamed and fought, clawing at her attacker as her mother had always taught her. She actually managed to knock the large dark Tom in the eye, filling her with hope of escape. Then she felt another set of paws, then another, and then a sharp pain in her cheek as someone hit her in the jaw. She mewed in pain as her chin was lifted to stare into the yellow eyes of a wild orange cat. He smiled a twisted smile at her, “to think the jellicles would allow their offspring to play with such little rats. Well... I suppose it is my duty as a staple of the community to get rid of such pests.”.

With a flick of his claw he released the small kitten and signaled his three henchcats. At first Tootsie just lay limp in stunned silence, but that silence turned to screaming as she felt three sets of paws press her left side down against the glue trap. It burned, the extremely strong glue sticking her skin and fur together, pulling and burning more as she struggled. Eventually the henchcats stepped back, grimacing at their work for but a moment before scampering off after their leader. The small queen frantically cried for help as the glue slowly filled in every crack between her fur and skin. She laid still as she felt the burning in her side slowly growing. She quietly pleaded in a voice hourse from screaming “Electra... help me.”.

Electra was growing worried. Tootsie hadn’t shown up to play yesterday and despite Alonzo’s insistence that she was probably just busy, Electra knew something was wrong. Today she sat at the gate quietly buzzing with an unknown tension as she found herself staring off at the alleyways where her and her friend once played. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. She felt Alonzo’s paw touch her shoulder and a reassuring remark begin to leave his lips. The moment he touched her it was like a fire was lit, suddenly Electra found herself sprinting towards an alleyway with fear burning in her mind. She could hear Alonzo frantically calling and chasing after her but she didn’t care, something was wrong. She turned the corner into the alleyway and let out a terrified cry. As Alonzo turned the corner he saw a horrific sight. The small white kitten was laying on her side, mewing in pain, her small form stuck to the firm sheet of paper below her. Blood trickled down her jaw, and a small handkerchief of peanut butter cookies lay scattered on the ground.

Alonzo reacted quickly, examining the kitten and carefully picking her up as he avoided becoming stuck himself. The small queen mewed in pain and he felt his heart sink. Electra followed after him frantically as he raced the kitten back into the he center of the yard and shrunk under the looks of horror and confusion from the other jellicles. Jenny and Jelly quickly took the small queen away as Electra hastily began to explain everything that had happened to Munkustrap with Alonzos help. Electra was shaking and found herself sandwiched in a cuddle pile of several other kittens as they tried to console the mortified kitten.

Jenny and Jelly emerged about an hour later with news. While they had managed to remove the paper, the damage done to the young queens fur and skin required treatment they couldn’t provide. Nodding quietly, Munkustrap quickly retrieved a blanket walking into the overturned bathtub nursery and walked out with the small queen in his arms. The nurse queens hadn’t been lying. Tootsies fur along her left side, or at least the fur that was still there, was matted with dried glue. The skin beneath was red and irritated, unable to be bandaged due to the sticky consistency of the fur above. Electra quietly approached and bid her best friend a quiet goodbye and gave a prayer for luck as Munk raced out of the yard.

Munk spent a small amount of time scouting out potential homes for jellicles. He also had a few emergency houses he knew he could leave an injured cat at and they would be cared for. He ran to one of those houses now, one of a young couple who had recently gotten married. He placed the young queen on the doorstep with a guilty look on his face as he yowled loudly for attention. As he heard the humans approaching the door her quickly fled, turning back once with deep remorse before fleeing home.

The young couple quickly took the young queen to a vet, allowing her to be properly treated. Tootsie was confused and afraid, but she quickly grew dependent on the warmth that came from snuggling with her new humans. The human male was an avid knitter and, in order to protect Tootsie’s damaged skin, knitted her a handful of small sweater to cover her recovering body. Tootsie grew to love these sweaters, her favorite was a lovely purple one that brought out her eyes wonderfully. Tootsie was also quickly given a lovely white collar to signify her new home.

It was a few months before she could manage to leave the home. She gathered up a small parcel of treats before beginning her march. She had visited her family a few times already, the bakery not being very far from her new home, but she had never made the full trek back to where it all began. She adjusted the neck of her purple sweater befor she paused at the mouth of the fateful alley. She felt a shiver snake up her spine before she turned and placed her eyes on the yard. She snuck through the fence, slipped passed the junk piles, and found herself standing on the edge of the clearing. Assorted jellicles were moving about, but she was only interested in the one sitting with some of the elder queens quietly. The two made eye contact and for a moment there was silence, then tears, and then the soft thump of knitting needles and a parcel of cat treats hitting the ground. They ran to each other and quietly embraced, holding each other so tightly that it hurt Tootsies’ recovering skin.

But she didn’t care about that anymore. Because after so many months, she had her friend again. Thats all that really mattered.

#cats the musical #jellicle oc #jellicle oc challenge #Tootsie #angst #ANGST ALERT #Electra #Alonzo #Munkustrap #jennyanydots #jellylorum #Im not sorry #;-; #OC