#i did not think the full effect thru

[lover-of-mine]

Another day, the walls are built to keep me safe, I can't escape, it's too late...

#911 #911edit #evanbuckleyedit #evan buckley #911 abc #911 fox #911 on fox #my edit #911hiatus2023 #911sos #soooooooooooooooooooooooo #is this the worst thing i ever did? probably not #but im in pain and i made it #so #sorry? #aoksoaksoaksoaksasokas #i did not think the full effect thru #and then i put it here and was like #well fuck #anyway #have this thing thats been in my brain for a while #usercam #911verse

[phoward89]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4:

In the time that Coryo's been taking care of you, which has been nearly 2 weeks now, you've discovered that he's an enigma. You just can't figure him out. On one hand he can be a right condescending bastard, but on the other hand he can also be very caring and attentive.

Some of his remarks cut deep. They even make you feel frustrated or useless sometimes. You hate feeling like that; you hate that his smug attitude has that effect on you.

But then he has his gentle moments, moments that make you feel cared for. The way he gently runs his calloused fingers down your back when checking its healing progress sends sparks up and down your spine. How he has you lay on top of his chest every night, to keep pressure off of the lashes on your back, while wrapping his arms around you has you swooning. His kisses can be soft and sweet or hungry and feral full of neediness and want, but every kiss you share makes you feel desired.

Yes, he's quite the enigma indeed.

“You think you're healed enough to go to the market with me?” Coryo asks, walking thru the door.

He went back to his peacekeeper duties a few days ago, but that hasn't stopped him from living with you. In fact, he sets an alarm to go off about an hour before wakeup call in order to sneak back into the barracks before dawn. Coryo always presses a kiss to your hair and tells you to go back to sleep before he goes.

You always groan and bury your nose in his pillow.

“Yes, I can go, but why didn't you just do it before coming here?” You reply, finding it a bit odd that he just didn't buy some groceries before returning home- like he usually did.

“Sejanus says that you need to get out and about; that fresh air and walks will be good for your healing.”

“Oh.”

“How bout you take a shower and I'll help you get dressed when you're done, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, rising from the table and heading to the bathroom.

At least Coryo's letting you shower by yourself now. For a while he was bathing you, afraid that you'd hurt your back if you were left to your own devices.

As Coriolanus rooted thru your clothes basket to find you something suitable to wear in the harsh winter weather, his encounter with Sejanus earlier played in his mind like an old movie rerun.

“How's your girl doing, Coryo?” Sejanus asked his friend as they patrolled the streets of the factory sector of the district.

“She's doing better. Her back’s healing, but she still can't put any pressure on it.” Coriolanus explained your condition to his friend. “I've started cutting down her doses of morphling; been giving it to her during the night and leaving her a bottle of aspirin for the day.”

“Has she been out and about yet?”

“No, Sejanus. She hasn't left our apartment.” He told the dark-haired peacekeeper, who in return shook his head at Coriolanus. “What?” Shot out of Coriolanus' mouth faster than a shooting star. “She's been hurt; she lost her coat during the whipping incident, plus I had to start patrol work again. Why would she be out and about?”

“You can't keep her locked up in her apartment, Coryo. She needs fresh air and some exercise to help her healing.” Sejanus explained, hoping that the platinum blonde would see reason.

But, of course, he didn't see reason.

“She knows how to open the window, if she wants fresh air that bad. And she's been walking around the apartment, it's not like I'm a monster that's got her tied up to the bedpost or something.”

“Did you forget that I've been inside of her apartment? She doesn't have a bedpost, her mattress is on the floor with a tiny wooden table next to it.”

“Stop calling it her apartment, I live there too.” Barked out Coriolanus. Pointing at Sejanus, he added in, “And don't worry about our bed. That's my bed with my darling rose, you hear me?”

“Yea, I hear you.” Sejanus heavily sighed. “Look, if she needs a coat and ya’ll are struggling to buy one I can always have Ma send Y/N one in the mail.” The kind hearted peacekeeper offered, hoping that a new coat would help with you being able to leave your apartment. An apartment that Coriolanus insisted was his now too. “As a Christmas present.” Sejanus quickly added in, reminding Coryo that the winter holiday was in a week.

“Yea, Ma can send my girl a coat for Yule.” Coriolanus nodded.

Sejanus smiled, happy that his friend was letting him do something nice for you. If only he could convince Coryo to let you off of your house arrest…

“Coryo, Y/N needs to spend some time with you outside of your apartment. Even just a few minutes will be good for her healing.”

“The last time she went out she got whipped so badly that I had to stitch up half of her back. So, excuse me, Sej, for just wanting to keep her safe; away from people gawking at her because of what happened.”

“She can't stay locked up in that apartment, spending her days in nightgowns waiting for you to come home every night all because you're scared of her getting hurt again; of not being able to protect her- again.” Sejanus told his best friend, trying to get it into the platinum blonde’s thick skull that you needed to see more than the inside of the same 4 walls day after day. “What happened shouldn't have, but it did, Coryo. It did and you've been caring for her better than a nurse could; now it's time to aid in her healing by letting her walk around town for a bit.”

Coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head. Sejanus has a point, but he doesn't want to admit it. The district born boy's right, what happened to you shouldn't have happened, but it did because Coryo turned you in. Turned you in without the apple as evidence.

He truly didn't know how harsh your punishment was going to be. He thought a quick flogging, maybe no more then 2 or 3 lashes. But he didn't know that you'd be stripped naked in the snow and whipped repeatedly until you fell down from the pain. God, you had about a dozen lashes on your back and half of them were so deep that you'll have scars. Honestly, Coriolanus felt guilty when he watched you get whipped; felt remorseful and regretted his actions.

But he'd never let himself admit it. No, he keeps rationalizing his actions as the right thing. That you stole, that I'd you didn't steal then he wouldn't have turned you in. That he needed to look good in his superiors eyes, that turning you in got him one step closer to the Capitol.

To home.

But now his plans have slightly altered. Now he has you and he's bringing you home with him.

“Coryo, if you really want to protect her, then maybe you should sign up to take that elite officer's exam. Nobody messes with an officer's girl.” Sejanus told the tall blonde, pulling him out of his mental musings.

“Elite Officer's exam?” Coriolanus parroted, sounding stunned.

“Yea.” Sejanus nodded. “I thought you knew about it.” Apparently nobody told Coriolanus about the exam, but considering he's been trading work days with people to be able to spend so much time tending to you, it's not hard to figure out why nobody told him.

“There's a test in a week or so for an Elite Officer's commission. It's for Naval and Air Force tho, so you'll be shipped out of 8.”

“Thank you for telling me. I'll have to sign up before going home.” Coriolanus gratefully told Sejanus.

Yes, since he's in a good mood he'll take you to the market once he gets off work. You should have a sweater to wear; if not then you can borrow his. God knows he's moved his shit into your place; has the bag nestled right next to your wicker basket at the foot of your bed.

And while on your walk to the market he'll tell you the great news about the Elite Officer's exam he's signing up for.

Once you were finished with your shower, you stepped out of the bathroom and into the main room of your apartment wrapped in a towel. You saw that Coryo had laid out your blue floral dress and orange-russet sweater. He was sitting on the edge of your bed, clutching some kind of orange material in his hand.

Hearing your feet pitter patter across the one-room apartment, he looked up at you and asked, “Do you need any help getting dressed, baby?”

Coryo still asks you that, every time you bathe and need to change, even tho you're able to dress yourself now. You guess he just likes to feel needed; offers to help cause of it.

“No, I'm fine, Coryo.” You told him, coming to a stop at the bed. “But thank you for your offer.” You added in, picking up the cotton panties he laid out for you.

Coryo waggled his brows and lowly whistled, “Can't wait til your back’s fully healed so I can fuck you, baby.”, as you took off your towel and pulled on your panties.

Yea…

You knew he'd want to do that as soon as you got better.

There's just one catch tho.

“I've never been with anyone before, Coryo. You’ll prolly be disappointed with my lack of experience.” You told him, grabbing your dress and pulling it on.

Before you could reach for your sweater, Coryo took your hand in his and tugged you until you fell onto his lap. “Darling, don't say that.” He cooed. “I’m proud to be the only man to ever touch you; your innocence will never disappoint me.” He assured you with a soft smile. “Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know.”

To Coriolanus, you being innocent when it came to sex fueled his ego. Made him feel powerful. Yes, he enjoyed having power over you. Sex was another way to wield that power. Plus thought of being the only man to have you makes him feral with primal, possessive instincts.

You're his, all his!

Pecking you on the lips, he says, “Put your sweater on, little dove. I have something to give you that'll go perfect with it.”

You wondered what he had to give you. Silently, you nod and reach over to grab your sweater. You put it on while still sitting on Coryo's lap.

“This was my mother's; I'd like you to have it, Y/N.” Coryo told you, smiling brightly while handing you the orange bunch of silky material.

“Oh Coryo…” You gasped, taking the offered token from him. Inspecting the bright orange material, you quickly figured out that it was a large scarf or a shawl. “It's so pretty.” You mused, still in disbelief about receiving a gift of such fine quality. “Are you sure you want me to have it?. It belonged to your mom.” You ask, feeling a bit guilty about accepting the scarf. It belonged to his mom and from the look in his eyes, well, you know that she's gone.

“My mom would've loved you, baby. Please, accept my gift as a token of my affection, darling.” Coriolanus said, taking the scarf from your hands and wrapping it around your neck.

“Okay.” You relented.

Guiding you off of his lap and onto the bed, he told you, “Put on your knee highs; I'll get your boots.”

He picked your stockings up from the bed and handed them to you before going over to where your boots were at. As you pulled on your stockings, he brought you over the boots. Taking them from him, you slid them on.

Once you’re ready, Coryo gives you a closed lip smile and leads you out the door. He’s happy to be going to the market with you. You on the other hand…Well…You're nervous about people seeing you with a peacekeeper.

You and Coryo are walking along the urban streets of District 8, the cold winds chilling the both of you right down to the bone. You’re glued to his side with his arm wrapped protectively around your back. His large hand resting gently on it.

If he wasn't a peacekeeper from the Capitol, people might think that you make a cute couple. But, since he's a peacekeeper and you're a transfer, well…the residents of 8 turn their noses up at you in disgust. Coryo didn't seem to notice tho.

No, he was too caught up in his own upturn of luck to care what the locals thought of him with you. Their opinions didn't matter. They're just dirty dogs, scumbags, and rat bastards in his opinion. And soon Coriolanus will be an Elite Officer in either the Naval or the Air Force division of the Peacekeepers; he'll be getting the two of you out of the shithole you're stuck in and around civilized people.

“Y/N, I got some good news for you.” Coryo announces with excitement in his baritone, grinning from ear to ear; looking a bit like a homicidal maniac from Dateline.

“What is it?” You curiously ask. You two live in a wintery wasteland that's a smog and sweatshop hell. You're also a very unconventional couple, so you can't imagine what his good news is. Seriously, does anything good actually happen in 8?

“I signed up to take an Elite Officer's exam; when I pass we'll be able to leave 8; go to a nicer district or even the Capitol.” Coryo announced, his icy blue eyes gleaming, as his tone was filled with pride.

Hearing that the platinum blonde peacekeeper could possibly get you out of District 8 by becoming an Elite Officer gave you hope that maybe your luck wasn't shitty after all. You'd love to be able to go to a nicer district, like 1 or 2. And the possibility of going to the Capitol.

You…

Wow, it sounded wonderful. Perhaps too good to be true. But one things for certain, you wondered, “What's the difference between an Elite Officer and an Officer, Coryo?”

“An Elite Officer serves in one of the specialty forces- Naval or Air Force, while an Officer serves boots on the ground.” Coriolanus explained as the entrance to the marketplace came into view.

Looking up at him, you ask, “So you really think you can pass your exam; get us out of here?’

“My darling, I know that I'll pass and get us out.” Coryo confidently told you as the two of you walked into the marketplace. “Don't worry, I'll take care of you.” He pressed a kiss to your head.

As Coryo led you over to a produce cart, you could feel stares burning a hole into your back. You know that they're judging you because you're with a peacekeeper. Especially after what happened a couple of weeks back.

You're most likely a pariah now because you're with Coryo. But it’s not like you got into a relationship with him because you wanted to. You had to, because of your back injury. But that doesn't matter because to the citizens of District 8 you’re Peacekeeper's kept woman.

At least you won't be here much longer, since Coryo's slated to take his exam next week and he's positive that he'll pass. That he'll become an Elite Officer and be able to get the both of you out of the textile district of Panem.

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#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow fanfiction #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #thg fanfiction #thg x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coryo x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus imagine

[rosewaterandivy]

9. part-time soulmate, full-time problem

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), we think we’re ~prank Sinatra~ to disastrous effect i.e. a fake elopement, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: hey girl, u up? lemme come thru 💦💦💦 🥵🥵🥵 *slaps roof of fic* You can fit so much reverence and smut in this bad boy. Here’s 5.1K of pure filth and debauchery, holy water can’t help me now! Poetry excerpt from Sue Zhao. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Steve's playlist for Trouble: trouble will find me

previous || next

Now, Spring Break, Joshua Tree, CA ➡️ Las Vegas, NV 

“You did what?”

And it’s not a question, not by a long shot. 

If Nancy Wheeler wasn’t some 1,800 miles from you, you’d be seeing the patented snarl right now. The one that says ‘you’ll be dead by my hand and my hand alone.’

There’s a very real possibility that you’ve overplayed your hand this time. What started as a prank, a harmless lark, had devolved into one screeching phone call from Steve’s mother for him and a blistering series rapid-fire of texts for you, followed by a phone call during which Nancy was going to rip you a new asshole.

She didn’t appreciate your texts as you’d hoped.

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: so BDE is not *just* an energy with Steve. got it, good to know.

Natty light 💯: She lives! We haven’t heard from you in days. Wtf did you idiots do?

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: nothing to be concerned about! on an unrelated note, before you check insta remember that i am your BESTIE and you would miss me terribly(!!!) if i died, even if it was at your own hand

Natty light 💯: … I’m going to kill you, and resurrect your dessicated corpse so I can strangle you … slowly and painfully

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: pls mother, no, i’m scared

But hey, it’s not like you woke up and decided to potentially fuck up your life today.

So, yeah. Definitely went too far with it this time, but in your defense, it’s not like anyone was there to reign you in. Steve was just as liable to go on with your half-cocked schemes, even more so now that you could sit back on your heels, all pretty smiles and wide, sweet eyes as your hands unbuckle his belt, still supplicated with chin on his knee, “You said anything...”

Folded like a house of cards the second you got your mouth on him. Shudders when you begin with your tongue first before eager lips stretch to fit him, guiding until he’s nestled in your mouth. And then you move, deliberately measured, building a lazy pace, sluicing him up with spit.

“Ah, shit…” Steve’s words are already betraying him. You smile as his cock pops out of your mouth.

“How’s that? Still wanna make that dinner reservation?” Thick lashes framing glittering doe-eyes peer up at him. Purposely coy. “Or do you want to stay here?”

He returns to himself. Dazed, he blinks at the bright lights and the glossy tiled floor. The marble countertop of the sink where he grips like a lifeline.

The restroom down the hall of the restaurant. Turn a corner and twenty people are sitting at tables, drinking cocktails and cajoling. Your mouth back on him wipes the thoughts from his brain.

Squelching when you push him back past your molars, crushing your tongue.

You slide him out, voice hoarse and breathy and it chills him to the bone the way you whisper, “C’mon baby, let’s have some fun.”

The second day in California runs a lot more smoothly, and the third day is as easy as a breeze. Granted, it’s a hot, humid, sticky type of desert breeze as you wipe a hand across your forehead in the heat of the day.

Steve hums a patient tune, leans back on both palms and you watch the sunlight drape his bare chest in a warm flare. Glowing gold and bronze as if it’s transmuted from the hue in his very eyes.

He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been months and the first man you touch is more like something carved by a master sculptor of Renaissance than any other man. It should be illegal for someone to look this good.

Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.

“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This–” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already…”

A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.

“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of muscles.

And you’re abruptly startled awake by the sound your own moans. It’s past four in the morning when you rouse from sleep, frustrated to leave behind the pleasant escape the dream provided.

Damn it all to hell.

A creak of the wood door alerts you to his arrival. Steve is quiet when he sits on your bed, one knee pulled up to his chest while the other leg slinks down by your side, thigh brushing yours where your legs kicked off the covers. A sigh rolls through him at the early hour.

There is discomfort. His body retreats with the shift of your atmosphere. Always too itchy in your own skin. Afraid of being seen, noticed, thought about. He’s good at hearing your silence. Good at reading your language.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

He glistens like a god come to drown you in the sweetest of dreams. It makes your heart plummet to its death at the thought of his departure when you shake your head.

“Me neither.”

He lays back on your bed with a tired sigh, close enough to touch. Your own personal wonder.

“C’mere then,” you tug him to your side. Steve presses his lips to your neck, smiles into the wispy hair at the nape, nuzzles your locks aside to reveal more shoulder. Breathing soft and slow with his face against your neck, chest to your chest. He’s folded and tucked against you, all his strength and gravity nestled to your side.

“Honey—” Steve murmurs, more purposefully now, rasps your name, so soft and reverent you almost don’t hear it.

A confused noise, a second of readjustment to a new position, to his touch, and then you stir and purr.

“Hey, you.” Voice like warm fire, even with disrupted sleep from past few days.

A heavy silence falls between you.

Tell me what you’re thinking. If it was a mistake, tell me. If it wasn’t, tell me. You’ve been avoiding me and look—I want your goddamn babies, but c’mon. You gotta throw me a bone, I’m shit at reading signs.

He wants to take you to pieces, eyes roving your sleep-drowsy form, shorts rucked up on your thighs, shirt askew. Would devour you whole if you’d let him, savor your cries and moans at his capable hands. Make a ruin you only to build you right back up, unable to think of anyone else save him.

Steve arches, brushing the tip of his nose against your chin, up to your own nose, mouth hovering but not quite touching, just feeling each other’s atmosphere. You cross the distance and kiss him, grip tighter now like he could collapse right into you and god, you wish he could. Let you keep every last bit of him forever.

“Can we—”

You savor his lips, caressing the line of his cupid’s bow with your own, tongue flicking over the corners of his mouth, punctuating it chastely like a ritual. He moans, hand on the plane of your back moving, fingers scrambling at your spine before he palms your thigh and slots you flush against his torso with one leg hooked around his waist.

“God yes. Lemme just—”

He tugs at the waistband of your sleeping shorts before he changes his mind and his hands slip into the leg opening of the silk instead, keeping you right where you are. He rucks his own sweats down, just enough to spring himself free, shushing your whines, never letting you get too far, slipping upward, finding your heat.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

“Okay, Steve—ah—”

Right. So this is happening. Like, right the fuck now. 

Oh god.

You’re both surprised and terrified, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too. A beatific grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and slowly glide yourself down his considerable size, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.

Steve stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”

You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.

A half-hearted cluck of your tongue gives way to a low moan and you shuffle, flush against his chest, bare bodies warm and growing hotter now. Your palm rubs down his chest, savoring the rougher feel of his hairs there, contrasting your own skin, grasping his jutting hipbones, the strong plane of his abdomen.

Eager fingers slip between flesh. Velvet and surprisingly slick and wrapping around his digits like syrupy flower petals. “Baby girl,” Steve hums at the way you sigh. “Pretty girl.”

Shudders. You’re weak and boneless, slack and supple, pliant to his fingers and words. Little sweet-talker, you never knew he had such a clever tongue until he first slid it against yours in that fevered kiss in December. Now he’ll know all your weaknesses, know every lock and how to pick them until you’re all the way opened up for him.

It’s hard to focus when he’s like this. Perfectly warm. Perfectly adoring. Perfectly fitted. So, so bright with the faintest pink bursting over his cheeks.

You whimper with his every stroke. Every plunge. His other hand runs itself up the nape of your neck, fingertips in your scalp and you arch like a cat for more. 

“So good,” Steve praises, “Nice and tight, squeezin’ around me. All wet for me, aren’t you?” 

“Uh— mhm.” Inarticulate noises. Woozy and wrapped in his affection.

His eyes– pupils blown wide, half-hooded with lust and love– immobilize you, memorizing every inch of your face. He smiles. Christ, a smile that could launch a thousand ships. That could blind the whole world.

You curse quietly, blood pounding in your ears, your chest, your throat where he latches on with his perfect mouth, marking you up with his spit quickly followed by his teeth.

“Keep going—oh, don’t stop–“

“You want it like this, honey?” He sucks on your collar, on your shoulder, taking every whimper and cry as a command to continue.

They flower all over your chest. Red and purple and swollen bright for everyone to see—just like him. And the very thought of him, of you, lost to it takes you over the edge, calling his name like you’re at an altar in supplication.

“That’s it, honey. Be a good girl and come for me.”

With a tremble that vibrates all the way to into Steve’s soul, you obey. Onto his hips and abdomen, gushing a little, and with some embarrassment that it happened all so quickly. 

Your lids flutter open and you see as Steve hitches himself deeper, grinding his hips, gripping your thighs, and fills you all the way up until the stars behind your eyes whites out your vision, making you stutter and keen as you continue to fall apart.

Then he stills, pulling you even closer, body slick with dew in the early morning light. The two of you lie in perfect symmetry, trembling in each other’s arms.

And because you’re a sap with too much poetry rattling around your brain, all that pops into your head is:

In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been?’ I say, ‘I’ve been lost but I’m here now. You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.’

You allow yourself to sink into the feeling, expecting the tight fit of something new but finding that not to be the case at all. But rather brushing against something well-worn, as if it had been waiting for you all this time. 

“God, Steve—” you rasp. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Steve laughs low, kisses the blooming bruises up and down your neck, makes you whine again, sensitive and aching. His clever tongue wonders sweetly, “How’s staying in bed all day sound?”

You laugh. He’ll learn everything you like. Know all your weaknesses. How can you say no to something like that?

It’s different, almost tender in the afternoon. 

His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Steve begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s powerless against you.

“S-slow—hold on—“

“Let me do it, Stevie.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Steve holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet, you just started back up again after a late breakfast, having slept soundly through the morning, and he might already blow his whole fucking load.

“Okay—just—will you give me a second–”

Using the position you’re already in, he pushes you up against the mattress and guides you back down, hitching your thighs around his hips, sinking a bit at a time until you’re landing on him with a gasp. He eases into you with what he hopes is restraint, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.

“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Eddie?”

He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a series of hook ups. A few times over the years—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.

“I can give it to you better.”

Because Steve wants to. He really does.

He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking down below him, tipping back into the pillows, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.

“Baby, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Steve promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”

You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck. 

It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.

And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Steve could die happy seeing your face like this every day.

Two weeks prior…

“Eddie…tell me the truth,” You ask slowly, folding clothes (well, that’s a generous term— it’s more haphazardly tossing and bundling laundry into your open suitcase). “It’s good, isn’t it? Shawty, tell me what that thang do!” 

You waggle your brows, make a V-shape with your fingers, and lewdly run your tongue up and down between them. Steve thinks he sees you looking at him, but he feels himself flushing at your comment and pretends like he’s enthralled with the most recent episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Half-keeping an eye on you to make sure you actually pack actual pajamas and pants for this trip. 

“Dude. Stop it.” Eddie groans, knowing you’re all too familiar with his endowments and prowess from previous experience.

Whomever currently was getting the Eddie Munson midnight special was having a helluva time. 

You lob a pair of leggings toward your suitcase, “Kobe!”

You miss.

Eddie cackles, “How’re you gonna disrespect a legend like that, and miss?!”

“Okay!” Steve yells, pushing you off the couch in the living room, “That’s enough of that. I’m going for a run.”

Landing on your shoulder with a grunt, you brush away the rough sting of the carpet and catch the last second of his shadow before he’s gone from the room.

“What?” You call, projecting your voice and hoping he hears, “What’d I do? Steve!”

The scrape of the chair legs signals Eddie standing up, too. A shake of his head and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You know,” he starts, “For all your insight, you’re pretty dense.”

There’s nothing in your head but sawdust and thoughts about his… activities under the sheets his flavor of the month. You shake it out of your brain before it lingers too long. Eddie points sharply down the hall to where Steve’s shadow has slipped out of view and hearing-distance.  

“You know he likes you, right?”

Uh? Your brain is the mac loading wheel, just spinning. “Of course he does? We’re buddies?”

Eddie cuffs you in the back of the head, “Get it together. Like is putting it lightly, too. Love is closer to the truth.”  

“Now,” Eddie leans over you, menacing you with his height. “How about you go listen to the record he gave you and think about what you’ve done, hmm?”

Then, he saunters off, shaking his head all the while, leaving you to gape down the hall like a fish. Steve? In love? With you?  

Flashes explode in your brain like fireworks. His jacket over your shoulders—not the first time. Sitting underneath your legs— nearly tradition. Morning errand runs even though he hates them. The banter—him, scolding your motor-mouth, you— never stopping. Circles he rubs on your knees— the laughter—damn it, so much laughter.

Steve? In love? With you? It’s more likely than you think.

Back in your bedroom and chastened, you wait until the front door closes signaling Steve’s exit. Turning to the wall dedicated to your impassioned analytical skills, you eye the various colors of yarn showing the various connections that could be drawn from the song choice and order in which they were placed. 

Printed out pages of lyrics have been annotated to death, some phrases scrawled more largely than others for importance. You stare at the wall for the better part of an hour, long enough to come to the end of the playlist. Sufjan Stevens rhapsodizes on the mystery of love and fades into Matt Berninger singing how he needs his girl.

A gasp. A choke and a wail somewhere deep inside your chest as you slowly, methodically begin removing the pins and pages from your wall. Realization settling on you heavy with mood. 

Clearly, this was not some bush-league bullshit.  

Hesitant, but growing in the knowledge that Steve, your best friend whom you annoy to no end, is irrefutably and undeniably in love with you. You’d have seen it sooner if you weren’t such a dumbass, all the signs had been there just lying in wait. The front door opens once more, his voice calling out to Robin in the kitchen about dinner. 

“Steve.” You light out of your room, tearing down the hallway. “Stevie! Steve! I’m sorry! Steve oh my god! I’m a fuckup!”  

You trip on the corner of the floor runner, as he turns, slightly confused, one hand reaching out to catch you as you careen into his chest with a thunk.

You must look a wreck, hair in disarray and panting hard, him sweat-slick, bearing your weight as he sets you right on your feet.  

Steve raises an eyebrow, blinks at the way the front of your shirt slides from your shoulder and takes his ear buds out, looking at you like you’re a first-rate idiot.

And well ... he’s not wrong.

The flight to Vegas is painless, though you are put out at having to leave the love nest that bloomed like a night flower in the Californian desert. A lazy, slow start to the day. Sticky and sweet like biting into a ripe peach, juices flowing down against sun-warmed skin. 

His hand pulling at yours, guiding you through the crowds of the airport, looking back to you frequently, as if he can’t bring himself not to. One hour later and viva, Las Vegas!

As it turns out, it’s fairly easy to fake a Vegas elopement. Just a matter of subterfuge and a wedding chapel, which are a plenty in Clark County. Steve in a suit (“You weren’t even wearing a tie, Steven! Who gets married looking like that!?”), rotating the signet of his ring out of sight, the ‘H’ resiting against the underside of his ring finger so just the band was visible. 

You in a dress, something white and off the rack from Neiman’s, your ring, courtesy of Steve, moved from your right hand to your left. Sapphire earrings as your something blue, Manolo Blahnik pumps in your favorite color, a gift from Steve, as your something new.

A well-timed call to Jonathan, he was in town for a shoot and just so happened to have a few hours to kill. An appointment at the Graceland Wedding Chapel and 250 dollars later, you have yourself a believable elopement, no marriage certificate required. 

Even drove out to the Red Rock Mojave desert outside of town for a photoshoot courtesy of one Jonathan Byers, professional photographer. By the time you’d made it back to your room at the Wynn that night, he’d already done a rough edit of a few photos for you to post to the ‘gram. Piece of cake, really.

It was all well and good. Steve even let you tag him and posted his favorite images himself, miracle of miracles. The man does jack shit with social media, claims he only has the account for the groupchats and memes. Captioned it something like ‘married AF’ because he’s a dork; first photo in the carousel was a shot of your hands, showing off the new bling with the wedding chapel sign in the background.

You opted for the more truthful, ‘ew, boy. you’re, like, obsessed with me’ and selected a photo where your legs wrapped around Steve’s hips after he’d told you to ‘time to giddy-up, yeah?’ with a wink and caught you in his arms before kissing you stupid. You were quite pleased with yourself until the phones began to ring.

“Jus’ ignore it, honey.” His teeth pull against your bottom lip, bringing your attention back to him. You screw your eyes shut, hand falling to cup the nape of his neck as his lips continue their mapping of your skin. Purposefully, he plays with a lock of your hair, tucks it behind your ear, and lets his finger ghost over your neck. “Gonna kiss you now,” you murmurs, “Doin’ some of my best work here and you’re missing it.”

He pouts.

Your throat clenches, bobbing with a thick swallow and Steve thinks if this wasn’t so tender and sweet, he’d be latching onto that pulse instead. “Okay…” Your mouth parts expectantly, eyes fluttering closed, hand coming up to caress his jaw.

It’s sublime. It’s perfect. It’s the biggest relief he’s ever felt when you return his touch—parting your lips to receive the tip of his tongue against yours. Thirst. Desperation. Enthusiastic limbs scrambling to feel more of him. A bucking of your hips against his thigh and he’s soaring up into heaven with the sensation.

Except the damn phone won’t stop ringing. 

“Steve,” you pant, hand reaching up to fist his hair and pull him from your the sensitive spot he’s located behind your ear. As you tangle your fingers in his mane of hair, securing your grip with a tug, he breaks contact with your slick skin with a strangled moan.

Oh.

You file that particular reaction away for further investigation and direct his attention to the loudly ringing phone on the nightstand. He rolls off of you with an exasperated noise and answers the call in a sulk. “Hi, Ma.”

His expression changes so quickly you nearly have whiplash; lazy and pouty one moment to shocked silent in the next while his mother lectures him, a mile a minute. Eyes cutting to you, he grabs your phone from the same table and holds it in font of you to unlock it via Face ID. You roll your eyes and bat him away, taking a slug of water from the glass on your bedside table.

“Shit,” Steve mutters, putting himself on mute and his mom on speaker as he scrolls through your phone. “Holy fucking shit, nonono.”

You lean over and take a peek. He’s thumbing through Facebook, pupils blown wide in shock at the sheer number of notifications on his accidental post. Because yes, Steve accidentally cross-posted the photos from Instagram to Facebook as an update, like genius. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

He drops your phone on the bed when it starts to ring, like it’s a venomous thing that could take him down in one strike. 

Sheepishly, he looks to you and mouths ‘I’m so sorry’ as he returns to his mother’s raging diatribe. 

After checking the caller ID, you answer, voice flat. “Hello.”

“You little scamp,” Eddie tuts, “Stole my idea of eloping in Vegas and everything, I hate you.”

In spite of yourself, you crack a smile. “It’s a prank, babe.” A sigh as you pull your hair up and off of your shoulders. “Not legally binding at all. Having Byers on deck really sold the idea though.”

“You are the absolute worst, Trouble.” You warm at his soft laughter, “What’d you do to get Steve to agree? Drop to you knees all nice and pretty?”

A swell of pride accompanies the rush of heat at the thought of your earlier rendezvous. “Y’know Eds, I did exactly that. How perceptive of you.”

He cackles. “It’s tried and true for a reason, babe.” Steve is nodding furiously at whatever his mother is yammering on about, bare back toward you as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

A push and a slide across the rumpled sheets and you’ve wrapped around him like a vine. His thumb rubs at your ankle, pulling your leg to envelop his hip. Opposite arm dangling across his chest as you press your face into his neck, revelling in his scent—cypress, vetiver, and something slight musky tinged with salt. All warm and pliable.

“Nance may have called in some reinforcements.” Eddie says carefully. “I told her to fuck off, but she’s beyond reason at this point.”

“Whaddya mean?”

He sighs, “Just be on the lookout for an angry lesbian, alright?”

You snort, drawing Steve’s attention. He twists in your hold, phone discarded on the table finally, fingers trailing tantalizingly up and down your sides. Pushes you back against the bed, chin resting on your sternum as you talk with Eddie, head tilted as he listens.

Begging off the phone call, you say your goodbyes. “Hey,” Eddie says before you go, voice soft and warm, “You happy babe? You sound it.”

“Yeah,” you turn your head and grin at the ridiculousness of your life. Steve follows your lips, his own blazing a trail across your chest and up to meet your shoulder. “I’m really happy, Eds.”

Steve plucks the phone from your hand, “Bye Munson!” He sings before ending the call and unceremoniously dropping your phone on the floor.

And Steve never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.

It’s the fifth time, and Steve’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the door frightens the both of you into your clothes.

Robin swings it open and Steve is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.

“It smells like ass in here!” She hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”

“Shut up, Rob!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a shirt, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Steve is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.

“Oh my god,” Robin whispers again, “Oh… my god.” She sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.

“You freaky little—” she hisses, before screaming, “Oh fuck no! I’m here picking your asses up. Got on a flight at ass o'clock from Indy— you're butt-ass-naked in here—” She stands ram-rod straight, hands on her hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on you.”

“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Rob!”

“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m exhausted! And well— you're exhausted too, huh?”

“I hate you.”

She snickers, high-fiving herself before crossing her arms, “Now get your freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Harrington’s dick.”

You pat her on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”

Robin dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”

A few minutes later, Steve closes the door to the now-silent hotel room, damp with sweat and the lingering aroma of musk. Robin trots on ahead, leading the pair of you through the lobby and out into the dry desert heat.

His hand pulls at yours, reassuring and warm. A small smile blooms across your face and you allow yourself to revel in it for a moment: heading home with Steve, can't even bring yourself to be all that mad at Robin's antics.

Not when he turns back to check on you, all tan skin and that devastating smile. Tugs you closer as Robin flags down the Uber, lays his lips against yours, and kisses you with a sweetness only he could bring.

Oh yeah, you think tangling your free hand in his shirt. This'll do just fine.

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #reader insert #teacher!steve #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

[prostock56]

I think I've found what seems for me to be the perfect combination to get long lasting loud abdominal noises along with fantastic movements inside my bowels. I swallowed nearly a quarter pound of ham ground to the consistency of mashed potatoes followed by a stomach full of air massaged past my pyloric sphincter undigested directly into my intestines and then followed by 3 gulps of air every 15 minutes for an hour then more ham and air repeat 3 times the food is thick enough to cause temporary bowel obstructions in different areas as it occasionally breaks free and moves deeper into my intestines when it forms an obstruction the air slowly working thru it makes incredible noises and the intestinal contractions get harder and harder getting tighter trying to move the blockage until finally with a hard mildly painful cramping it will break free and surge deeper with a force that shakes my intestines hard enough to be felt through my skin by my wife and I feel it internally like something alive is slowly crawling deeper and deeper down inside of me as the food continues to create temporary obstructions that move deeper until the food digests enough it moves more freely and depending on the cositancy and quantity of the food and air the effect can be tailored to last from 6 hours to nearby 24 hours. I just have to be a little careful about the thickness I over did a session with the consistency of peanut butter and the mixture was thick enough it caused an obstruction that lasted around 48 hours it just wouldn't budge I had some pretty painful moments of cramping off and on for many hours before it finally broke loose but I still had intermittent obstructions with mildly painful cramps for hours

#tummy kink #stomach growling #stomach noises #belly noises #stomach kink #tummy rumbling

[rukia-writes]

Hades x (fem)! Goddess!Reader

Plot: Flu season has come to Valhalla and it seems gods and goddess of health are busier than ever; a familiar god needs sleep. ☁️

Warnings: 18+, no minors 🔞, sexy nurse outfit, a bit of a smut.

Busy. Busy.

Flu season had arrived in Valhalla making the gods and goddess of health busier than ever before. It seemed as though the Greek pantheon had it the worst, Asclepius was busier than ever.

Good thing he could count on a helping hand.

“I thought I was going to die for sure.”

Ares, sick with the flu was in Hades as he rested on the bed with his brother Hercules laying beside him in a bed of his own sneezing into a tissue with his eyes red. Writing a few notes, Hades with a bored expression noted that the two gods weren’t quite ready to go home now.

“Hades, may I come in? I have Hercules and Ares medicine here.”

Like magic the sick gods perked up hearing (Name)’s voice, (Name) was one of the nurses helping everyone out. Once Hades gave the okay to do so, the three gods saw (Name) effortlessly walk in with a huge cart with ample food. As is (Name)’s power, a master chef which has a healing effect, Hercules and Ares were a challenge as they were bigger and stronger than regular gods therefore requiring more food.

Hades watched as the two gods were practically “babies”when it came to the beautiful nurse. A pattern most of the other doctors noticed, and of course (Name) didn’t seem to mind too much as she would pat their heads and feed them if they asked.

“(Name), they are others who need help too. Don’t stay too long.”

“Don’t worry, I have it all under control-“

“This is amazing!”

Both gods, Hercules and Ares, said at the same time with happiness in the soul at how amazing (Name)’s cooking was. Thus, making only making (Name) smile at their compliment and turning rather bashful. Rolling his eyes while leaving, Hades didn’t want to see anymore.

Apparently, neither did his brother Poseidon.

Poseidon didn’t want to be there at all as he only came out of his office to let patients know they could go home, Also Zeus had a hand in him being there as well. As time went on, Zeus was now sick with the flu.

Hades didn’t think Zeus could even get sick.

“Zeus is sick too?”

“Unfortunately, and he’s been extra whiny lately.”

Hades and (Name) had a list full of patients as they looked over all the patients they had to see for the day on a piece of paper Asclepius made for them. Hades thought to himself he had no idea how Asclepius did this everyday.

“Well, I’ll get to cooking-“

“What happened to the old nurse uniform?”

“…What uniform?”

“This.”

Hades showed (Name) his phone to see a relatively sexy nurse outfit, chuckling nervously and then clearing her throat.

“No one wears that anymore, Hera deemed it too revealing. Zeus cried about it for a month remember?”

“Vaguely, would you wear one?”

Hades asked with a smirk on his lips as (Name) could feel her heart beating fast as she laughed nervously while leaving telling Hades, “Not in a million years.” While tripping over a trash can and rushing out the door.

Hades knew.

Hades knew (Name) would wear one, at least he would love to see her in one. Thinking to himself, it would be amazing if (Name) could wear the sexy nurse outfit. Lustful thoughts ran thru Hades mind as he envisioned (Name) bending over his desk while taking his thick cock from behind all the while massaging her breasts with the top part of outfit exposed.

Just the thought of it made Hades excited.

A thought that came to an end as Hades was awakened from his sleep by Hermes.

Yes, Hades god of the underworld had been dreaming the whole time. Poseidon and Zeus looked at Hades with confusion all to Hades embarrassment. Hermes informed Hades that everyone was taking about flu season and that Asclepius had made a list for everyone to follow this year.

“What were you dreaming about Hades? We heard-“

Poseidon gave Zeus a look of “don’t say another word.” And even though Zeus wasn’t scared he didn’t say anything. Hades cleared his throat and assured his brothers that it was nothing and that he was just tired.

“If you are that tired, Lord Hades. (Name) is here and she’s made everyone dinner.”

“No, she’s made me dinner. I’m the one who needs energy, Hermes.”

Zeus scolded Hermes only to have the messenger of the gods shrug his shoulders. However, by the end of the day Hades did sneak in the kitchen to have a talk with (Name).

Hades needed his energy too.

🎀Rukia-Writes🎀

#hades x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #I had vision for this..I think i did it right #snv x reader #record of ragnarok x reader

[bloogers-boogers]

Kyle Brofloski/Eric Cartman (SP fic)

('What's up with the fatass?')

/Devious melancholy/ part 2

'Wait? You think I'm gay because I'm from south park?'

'Well duh, everyone from south park is gay'

Slight warning ⚠️ just warning yah that's all, these two deranged characters will get together somehow but they will trust me, they will.

~~~~

Cartman inspected the apartment his mother rented, it wasn't bad, not as spacious though, but it'll do for now.

He was grasping the place, the town.. everything seem so lame, he couldn't expect any less from North Park but he'll suck it up for money.

Once they have enough money saved he'll make his mother moved them back to South Park. That was his plan; receive the money, get rich and stop being poor finally living the luxury he deserves, and ofcourse, brag his success to Kyle.

He beamed as he looked at the window contemplating everything he needed to do, to get the plan going. He made sure his mom woke up early because he wasn't risking her to make herself look like a incompetent employee on her first day of work, because he knew she had taken some crack last night before getting out from South park the effects of it just hit harder before going to bed, he fucking hates it so much, he was damn lucky she didn't crash the moving van on the way there. Luckily she wasn't required to do any drug test or both would've been screwed.

He never understood why teens his age were into that crap neither did he understood the adults, or Kenny. He just knew they made everyone stupid afterwards, well, more stupid then they already were.

After pushing his mom outside, practically just shoving her outside before slamming the door and setting his game up on the tv.

He played for like an hour before he reluctantly decided to go outside and see what he'll have to handle for a couple of months.

Everthing seemed so— rich? South Park's biggest accomplishment was having a whole's food in town while North Park had state winning champions working at some McDonald's drive-thru.

In less words, everything looked so 'posh', one of the disadvantages there was its weather; it wasn't cold or atleast to a temperature he was already use to, it was the opposite. For what he had searched it was stated to be one of the hottest places in Colorado, it would only snow just at the end of the year, which is insane. He can't imagine not walking to a almost daily snowy white path, stomping hard on the areas that seem to be deeper in depth cause he just liked the feeling of being sunk in like some wormhole, or making snowmen with his friends.

So there he was, complaining as he walked in the heated weather, it was insupportable he felt himself dragged his feet as his sweat poured down like rivers up his face; like melting snow on a sidewalk, the irony.

Unnoticeable passing by some neighborhood as he craved for water, panting duo the excess warmth in his body and the heavy breathing he was making, maybe he should take off his winter coat? He grasped some air as he took it off sighing as he felt a pin of weight let loose, feeling dizzy he leaned himself against some bench near the crosswalk trying to avoid fainting, now sitting down while holding on to his chest.

Seconds later he was tapped in the forehead with a water bottle, he looked up to curse who ever did that but his mouth went straight flat.

It was a North Parker but seemingly his age, so far he's only encountered old folks, but this one, he was wrinkle free, full of youth and had that innocent looking spirit somewhat spread around him. He was blonde with green eyes, kinda handsome for a dude but looked like a total geek.

"You're not from around here aren't you?," He asked, gesturing his bottle for he to grab it.

He reluctantly grabbed it, crisscrossing he wasn't about to be mugged or something, but shrugging it off immediately as he began drinking it. Stranger danger his ass.

"I'm from South Park, I just moved here, nerd," he commented in his usual banter.

The boy wince seemingly annoyed by the name hesitated in just walking away or indulge further in the conversation.

"You're from south park?," he repeated with a cringed expression as he asked, "no wonder I didn't recognize such a fat piece of crap in our town," he retorted with a similar tone he had use when he mocked him.

"Aye! Who do you think you are!? gaywad pussy licker!," he screeched out, gripping on to the bottle he was holding.

"Everything alright, Jackson?," another boy chimed in as some other boy walked beside him.

"I just found ourselves a South Parker," he stated mockingly.

"No way," the jock looking kid said bewildered, "you come from that crappie ass town?," he laughed dryly.

Cartman frowned, "shut the fuck up you mother fuckin' no good pussy lickin' hippies!," he cursed out loud, pointing out the reggae lover looking dude.

"See? This is why Shart park always stays behind, so stuck up in that common bigotry of yours it doesn't let you guys evolve," the jock stated casually, with a smugly smirk. His group of friends laughing beside him.

"Apparently he just moved here," geek boy informed the jock cunt.

"Wooow," the boy said in a sarcastic way, "that'll mean you'll finally be able to evolve from a shit stain to a fart."

The group laughed as he finally got up and pointed accusing to them.

"This is why you're all prestigious little douches in our category!," he exclaimed before storming off forgetting he had left his coat in the bench.

He heard from behind a 'good thing we aren't looking to be categorized from undeveloped pigs,' and with that he went off home, regretting going outside.

It had become dark, now resting in his couch as he layyed in a bored exaggerated manner. He really wanted to play video games with Kenny but he knew that poor piece of crap was still working a shift at those hours and he knew Butters wouldn't be able to do so either as he remembered two days ago he had commented he was grounded for a week. He sighed heavily contemplating to call either Stan or Kyle bothering them to make himself laugh.

But he turned over to look at the door as there was some banging coming from it.

He groaned annoyed as he walked to open it, "what?," he immediately spat dryly half way opening the door.

And his gaze landed to those familiar green marbled eyes he had previously seen that afternoon.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Did you follow me you creeping stalker!?," unironically being a stalker himself, he questioned offended.

The boy frowned shoving his coat to his chest harshly, startling him.

"Just being a good civilian here, lardass," he commented before huffing, as he took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up.

"You smoke!?," he asked baffled, he's never seen a nerd smoke before.

"Yeah, so?," the blonde asked incredulously.

"Didn't know geek boys could smoke," He smugly teased.

The boy just huffed as he roll his eyes, mumbling 'South Parkers,' before eyeing him up and down.

"So are you going to study in North park middle-school?," he asked more curious, puffing his cigarette some more, purposely blowing the smoke on his face making the other cough.

"Kinda," Cartman shrugged in response, wincing by the smell emitted.

"I'm Jackson btw, just for you to remember who targeted you first," He remarked as he stomped on his cigarette putting it out, dragging his hands inside his pockets, "what's yours, fatboy?."

"Aye! I ain't fat you piece of shit!," he blurted out, feeling quite some familiarity in the whole ordeal, "Eric, I'm Eric Cartman."

°°°°

After that 'splendid' encounter with geek boy, his day went to an end, beginning the next day as he was preparing himself to be dropped off at his new school, he stopped in the new bus point he was given and waited to be picked up. He sighed contemplating the new possibilities, new faces, friends, teachers. It's gonna be hard to adapt. But he was Eric T. Cartman, nothing is impossible for him.

He spot the bus half way, heavily breathing he gripped on his backpack.

Entering, the students there just glanced at him indifferent and judgmental, as if he were some weird bug. He sat in some empty seat in the back and heard a couple of students gasped and whispering.

'What was all that about?'

He took out his phone, carelessly about the constant glances at him, texting Kenny about joining on a server that night to play some game.

"Hey, faggot, da fuck are you doing in our seat?."

('Fag' sp canon definition n. 1. An extremely annoying, inconsiderate person most commonly associated with Harley riders. 2. A person who owns or frequently rides a Harley.)

He glanced up from his screen and visualize the jock kid and his stupid hippie group.

"Oh? This seat yours?," he said in a mocking tone, "don't see your name on it whore cummers," he blurted out as he now rubbed his ass all over 'their' seat taunting.

"Tsk, this dimwit," the red head mumbled to his friends.

He then sat next to him intentionally pushing him against the window both other boys tagged in apparently trying to trap him and suffocate him as they squished him forward the window.

"Goddammit!," he winced out trying to loosen there grip. The group of friends just howled in laughter.

"Admit you suck and piss off, southie," the jock kid stated as he leaned his body on him more.

"Over my dead fucking body, dick head!," he screamed slamming his fist up his nuts.

"¡OWW!," he squirmed in pain, reddened face by the embarrassment and ofcourse the agony pain that raised in his nutcrackers, "we got ourselves a fierce one," he stated still holding on to his balls as he winced his eyes shut.

Both boys tried gripping on him but he moved forward scooping himself over to the front seat shoving off some other students as he was chased around the bus from both geek boy and hippie shit. Jackson grabbed him from the leg as he failed attempting to get out from a window gripping on his body against his.

"Got him," He said grinning, as he swooped his body left and right attempting to make him seem like he were dancing even though it was clearly forced. Like a puppeteer and his puppet.

"Let me go, asshat!," He whined trying to lessen his grip, but couldn't. His strength reminded him so much of Kyle's, looking like he wouldn't bat your shit but was totally the opposite when provoked.

"Hmm," He hummed in a fake contempt, nuzzling his perky nose against his neck causing him to shiver by the touch, "what do you think, Stewart?," the boy asked the jock.

As he was finally recovering himself, passing through the walkway up to him, he punched him hard in the stomach receiving a 'hmph!' In return.

"That he isn't as bad as we thought he'd be for some southie," he smugly stated making the trapped boy arched a brow confused.

°°°°

"This is Hershey," Stewart gesture the hippie, who just waved casually, "my best friend Jackson," he continued presenting themselves before stepping inside school grounds. The blonde geek acting like he hasn't already presented himself before.

"What's yours, south bitch?," Hershey now chimed in expectantly.

"I'm Eric," he responded unbothered, as he glance at the huge building. If you were to compare this school to South Park's you wouldn't even see his town as a school.

"We can show you around," Jackson suggested with his hands inside his pockets.

"And when he says 'we' he means 'him' I have to go see Gigy at cheerleader practice, peace," Stewart casually waved off as he joined a couple of other douchbags who were also heading to the gymnasium or field, he wasn't sure exactly.

"Me too, I have to meet up with Jeannie for cleaning the courtyard before class starts," Hershey waved off heading another direction, "don't get lost, dog park," he lastly said before running off in a mischievous manner.

"Aye!," he grumbled out, but was left unheard.

Well, Jackson still was awkwardly standing next to him averting his eyes to a building, then to some students walking by and then the ground.

"So— fatass, what's there to know about you?," he asked, continuously walking to the entrance.

He followed along him, "Aye! I ain't fat you stupid queermo!," he screamed out.

"How 'revolutionary'," he stated sarcastic, before glancing at him, "I'm the debate club leader, I like swimming and have two siblings."

Cartman contemplated his answer before nodding as he pouted out his own, "I was the team captain of the football team and was among the popular kids," he beamed out confidently.

"Haha sure you were," Jackson said taunting, immediately pointed out his bluff, "we know who you are, fatboy."

Cartman halted now looking at him attentively.

"You're the fat, narcissistic psychopath from town that feed his half brother his parents," he explained unfazed, "we know all about the shit that happens to your town on a daily it always becomes a huge fuss for all of us when it comes to you assholes," he shrugged, gesturing a locker.

"That's your locker, E-10 right?."

He nodded in response, uncertain if he'd be able to make friends after being so easily revealed, but why was he talking to him so casually if he already knew who he was and what he's capable of?

Neither brought that topic again as Jackson showed him around campus, it was quite big, the tour had to be cut in short until school ended. For his dismay the class he was assigned to didn't include either of the assholes he just met until third period being seemingly the class he shared Spanish with Stewart, beside him he either would had to wait until seventh period which he shared Biology with Hershey.

It's not like he gave a fuck but he wasn't familiar on being a 'new kid', not only that, but Jackson warned him about how people here weren't to found of people who came from South Park noneless people who were born there he called him a 'TP' at first he thought he called him toilet paper but apparently it was a slang of theirs to call South park visitors 'target parker'; which meant they'll trash them until they leave their town. He found it quite dramatic but then again, their own town has shooed city people away before cause they couldn't tolerate their kind.

It also made sense why the group of boys began trashing him when he first mentioned being from South Park, then reluctantly just acting normally once knowing he actually moved here. That still didn't give him a pass but they had gotten a liking to him very quickly for some reason he still can't grasp upon.

And as such he was targeted for being a complete 'southie' even the teacher bashed on him as he was the one to blurt him out to the class for coming from South park. The only friend he managed to make was in his second period, his name was Jamie Hutson; a seemingly naive freckled boy, brown hair with braces who was from New York. He was pretty chill with the fact he was a 'tp' actually he seem to have 'pity' of him for coming out from a town like that. But when he meant 'seemingly' it's because he looked like that, but was a complete jerk to everyone displaying a false attitude infront of teachers being a A+ student but immediately flipping switches bullying some classmates there like an bigoted.

He actually felt grateful that it seem he had been taken lightly being called slurs and some bigotry comments compared to a red head kid that hanged in some wall hanger by his underwear.

"So, what's your socials, shart-fart?," Jamie approached, resting his elbows in his desk as he beamed innocently.

He huffed, "call me shartfart again, asshole, I dare you!," he threatened almost falsely, cause he really didn't want to bother on doing anything.

"Oh? You're gonna do something to me?," He smugly stated, chuckling, "so?," he extend his phone twoards him expecting for he to write his number.

He reluctantly typed his number down before huffing as he heard the bell rang and dashed off.

Maybe it'd be convenient to befriend the bully of their school?

He bumped in to geek boy again, who had cuss him out for not watching his way as he had dropped his books, he didn't bother helping out cause that's just how he is.

"Thanks for shit, asswipe," he spat bitter, as he tried organizing them in his arms.

"You're welcome, dearest," he teasingly said eying him, batting his eyelashes in a innocent manner.

He won't deny he was very appealing for the eye, he like how he shot back instantly every time he taunt back, those fierce eyes hooked him up like a fisherman's fish hook and his sly smirk was dazzling, smug, knowingly. He clearly has that competitive attitude, he seem smart, hot-headed and calculated, he seemed rival material.

Before he could even speak back he stopped him with his palm, "what religion do you follow?," he asked now intriguingly curious.

Jackson arched a brow skeptical, "why do you want to know, fatass!?," he questioned knowingly, a deep annoyed voice.

Cartman couldn't help but to smirk by that, oh, he's perfect.

"Y'know just?," he shrugged smugly, "it doesn't matter I'll figure it out," he winked as he began walking to his next class leaving the boy speechless.

That day he stalked his new 'friends', and found everthing he needed to know about them. He also figured out Jackson Hu was a no good, annoyingly boring cult member of a jehovah witness.

He smirked as he watched a picture of the boy on his laptop, resting his chin on his hand now contemplating all the new insults coming his way.

His third day in North park seemed to be flowing well, now hanging out with the three boys he first met really helped the attention fade away from him. But ofcourse, being part of the gang had requirements.

"I looked up your medias, fatboy and I'm quite disappointed," Stewart shaked his head in disapproval.

"What do you mean?," He asked as he munched on some chips indifferent, he loved his profile it had everything he liked, his personalized feed and pictures of his annoying friends.

"Well, it's.. too— your 'kind'," he stated thoughtful, cringing lightly.

"Yeah, if you want to be one of us, you have to start from zero," Hershey nagged, as he snapped his phone from his jacket opening his medias.

"Aye! What do you think you're doing, hippie!?," he protested, trying to grab his phone but was stopped by Jackson who only extended his arm blocking him from going any further.

"We have an image to keep clean, fatass. If anyone knew we let a stinky south parker in our group no one will take us seriously anymore," he explained.

"Might aswell clean you up from that stank your douche town left you," Stewart added as he crossed his arms now looking at his phone along with Hershey.

"But the whole school knows I'm from South Park!."

"Yeah, but we figured if we take all that stank away we could cure you from your disease," Stewart explained disinterested.

"I ain't sick you motherfucker!," he blurted out angry as he watched how the ginger typed rapidly on his phone.

"Here," Hershey gave back his phone, "now just add your details and will add you back. No south parkers, man," he pointed out seriously.

"Not even Kenny!?," he screamed baffled.

The group looked confused unknowingly and shrugged indifferent of his protests.

"I changed your password and email from your previous so you can't get in, just security majors," the ginger added before taking out his phone, "done, added."

His other friends did the exact same thing adding him back.

He sighed as he looked at his now boring empty profile, all his years worth of work being drained back down, his followers, his posts his reels. This sucked ass.

The sacrifices he has to do for keeping up a few months in this hell of a shit town.

°°°°

A week in, and he's been blending well in the north park group. He was actually enjoying his stay and was ACTUALLY learning new things.

A requirement also to be seen as part of Stewart's group was to have atleast a average 8.5 grading in each class he took! So he forcefully had to pay attention and STUDY, another was to be atleast in a club and practicing a sport. 'Why not kick me in ball while you're at it, dickwad!,' is what he blurted out as he was told, 'Shut the fuck up, lardbutt! Those are the rules. You either follow or leave your pick!,' is what he had told him.

He thought it'd be impossible but he actually managed after three deadly dreaded days. Jackson even offered to help him out studying, which he found nicely convenient, alway offering himself to go study at his place or at lunch. He was okay with it cause he figured out the boy was loaded and had the best of snacks.

'That's not how the ginger gene works, fatass!' He remembered his previous arguments, 'It so is, you dumb jehovah witness! I know, trust me I'm an expert,' he defended his theories.

Kyle was ginger, Scott and his dad we're ginger, even, and as much as he hates to admit it, he was half ginger. So he knows damn well his people, unfortunately.

It was pretty much heated like that with Jackson, he liked it though. It turned a spark in him.

"So— is that Kenny dude your boyfriend or something?," Jackson asked outta the blue as they headed to his place.

"What? Kenny!?," he said bewildered, "why would you think he'd be my boyfriend!? I ain't gay!."

"You aren't?," he asked looking now incredulous.

"No!?," 'why the fuck would he think that!?' He thought offended.

"Well, you are from South park," he shrugged in a answer.

Did they really see them as some gay faggots?

"Wait? you think I'm gay cause I'm from South Park?," he asked baffled, eyeing him up and down.

'And they called 'us' stupid.'

"Well duh, everyone from south park is gay."

"I'm not gay, asswipe."

Jackson halted, shaking his head in disappointment, "you don't have to feel embarrassed to be yourself, fatass. We are all very accepting and very opened minded," he rested his hand on his shoulder, ignoring his claims.

"That's bullshit, you guys are hypocrites, since I got here I've just been ridiculed for being born in South park," he explained somewhat not continuously contradicting his 'suspicions.'

Jackson slide his arms on his, gripping him lightly, "look, being gay is highly different than being a tp." He added, now caressing his left arm, "I always thought you were cute," he said playfully in a sultry voice.

He was left bewildered, his brain short-cirquited for brief seconds that felt like hours. Did he call him 'cute'?

Prev — Next

#south park #eric cartman #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #kyman #sp kyman #'What's up with the fatass?' fic #Cartman's 'first' little gay crush

[wifegideonnav]

2/6 ketamine infusions down!

today i had about twice as much as yesterday, which is considered a full therapeutic dose now. it was definitely way more intense lol. i was seeing things for sure, but they weren’t fully distinct. i saw a lot of roads, but it was more like the abstract idea of a road and i could tell what it was partly visually and partly thru just knowing that it was a road, kinda like how you just know some things in dreams.

i connected with that mother figure again. yesterday it felt like she was standing just behind me, and today it felt like she was all around me, not tangible but still kinda enveloping me. it was incredibly comforting and i just felt this overwhelming sense of love from her. as opposed to yesterday when i was more or less thinking in words, today it was more just feeling. there is actually only one phrase from the trip that i can remember concretely. it was more just like i was being shown how to be loved, and learning that i am loved in a cosmic sense, which also translates to being lovable on earth, a theme that carried over from yesterday. i also feel like i was taught a lesson about just “being” in the present moment without having to worry about either the past or the future.

it was actually pretty interesting, i came out of it faster today than i did yesterday, despite the higher dose. as i started coming back i remember wanting to go faster, wanting to be back in the real world. after they disconnected my iv and helped me shuffle to the bathroom, i just sat with my stepmom holding her hand and closing our eyes in silence, it was so lovely. i was definitely more out of it for longer tho, and pretty quickly i came to bed for a massive nap lol, even longer than yesterday. my brain is definitely doing a lot of work. so yeah, excited for day three tomorrow and definitely grateful for the break over the weekend before i go in for days 4-6 next week. they told me day 3 is when people start noticeably turning a corner, so im really excited to see what changes i notice in myself, while also still continuously reminding myself not to anticipate or hope for too much, just to let it happen how it happens because there’s no way to tell how and how much any individual will react. im very curious to see how much of the placidity ive been feeling will last.

anyway, in case it isn’t obvious lol, im loving this treatment. tripping balls in order to feel cosmically loved and get those dopamine pathways to work better? and i get anti emetics and headache medicine up front so i don’t have any side effects? hell yeah. alright that’s pretty much what i got for today, ill check in tomorrow like this again ✌️

#personal #kat journey

[ccrisntok]

I wanna knowbmore about your thoughts on the lil sad meow meow Ace

(this isn't a super in depth character analysis or anything, just the way I think about Ace. It's also kinda stupidly long and very scattered. There's a reason I'm an artist and not Weeby Newz 😔)

Ace as a character fav is a huge outlier for me. I have never liked characters like him before. Like I usually despise characters that are assholes, or annoying, or loud. Like, everything Ace is at surface level.

But, and this is crazy, he's not one dimensional!! Woah!!! (Cannon Danganronpa I'm looking at you.)

And that's why I like him so much. Like, the way he acts makes sense to a degree. Hes full of anxiety, and genuine fear for his life, on top of existing anger issues and and ED, and it all collimates in him acting the way he does. He isn't just act like that for absolutely no reason, or plainly to be a dick. I mean, still, he goes way to far sometimes, and is plain annoying at others, but there's reasons he acts like he does and it makes me unable to actually dislike him. (Ngl. Still pissed off about how he basically got Nico outed publicly, even if he didn't know what Nico's secret meant. And just harassing the shit out of them. He respected their pronouns even after they tried to kill him though so I think it evens out a bit lmao)

Something I've always loved about drdt in general is how human the characters feel most of the time. All of them have subtle (or not so subtle) things that effect the way they act. Rose's sleepiness isn't just for comedic effect, it's her actively trying not to be conscious, so she doesn't have to retain so much information all the time. Hu isn't only motherly by nature, she feels like being motherly is what gives her purpose, and is the only way she can help everyone. Like everyone has layers and I love them all so much :((

But Ace specifically is just. Goin thru it. Like when he loses his trust in Levi, even though it's played for laughs, it's basically him realizing no one can, or will, protect him, and in turn, he starts being even more of an asshole! (which did not end well for the whole self-preservation bit.)

And the redesign he went through between chapters, which actually has a reason instead of just being a plain redesign??? His hair getting dimmer bc his hair dye is fading and his hair has gone grey with stress??? Him developing eyebags bc of his health getting worse?? (Not good things obviously but yk what I mean I hope 😭). Like I'm such a sucker for smart character designs and ofc drdtdev ate with Ace. And every other drdt character. I love their art sm like actually.

Honestly I just need more of his backstory, and a redemption arch. Or like. A trying to be a little nicer arch at least?

I'm not very good at organizing my thoughts but I hope this gave you some insight on my obsession with this fella. Thanks for the ask! (I also love Hajime btw, my second fav SDRA2 character ✨✨)

#drdt spoilers #rant #ace markey #sobs cries and throws up if this man dies i will NOT be okay #tw ed #just a vauge mention but still #might delete this at some point honestly my brain isnt at full capacity rn ahsvsbak

[happycricketbox]

Just finished a replay of my favorite game series, Mother!! I'm glad i did because my first time playing it my opinion was a bit unbalanced and influenced by my play order i feel, now i have newfound appreciation for all three of them!

more thoughts under da cut

First time i played in order of 3>2>1 and this time i went the other way around!

My opinion on Mother 1 has not changed much i think. I love the story the most, it is a simple unique contained tale with a sweet message. It is undoubtedly very dated and janky and also admittedly exhausting to play, lol. It's the combination of the monotonous visual, blaring song and just a big barren dangerous world to explore! I still love it so much though i would not recommend it as someone's first game in the installment in this series. Need to ease your way in from other installment(s) first.

Mother 2, i remember not liking it so much when i played it first time. Mainly because it was so different from Mother 3, lol. And the quirkiness takes precedence over everything else, at least that's what i thought back then. After replaying it i like it a lot more now!

It is similar to M1 in visual/ux though with *many* improvements that makes it an easier experience. I still don't appreciate how hard it is to navigate your way thru status conditions and healing them. Though i do feel that being able to heal everything via hot springs is a tad too convenient... so iunno! I like the world exploration aspect and i think homesickness is such a cute status effect, haha.

Mother 3 was my BIG favorite back then! I still love it now obviously though the flaws are a bit more apparent now that i play in the supposed order. M1 and M2 was like, cosmic horror for kids. And now in M3 that aspect is just gone? and it's more of a tragic family tale. It's great, but admittedly it doesn't hit me as hard as the first time. Maybe mainly because i think the first few chapters were a draaaaag. They're more intended for story progression instead of gameplay experience, and the game doesn't properly kick off until i have my full team (chapter 5). Also i don't really care about the lore dump since they just did it right before the end.

That was a big complaint but M3 also has plethora of positives. I like the cast the most (mainly for emotional reasons rather than gameplay efficiency but STILL), sound battle is a blast, fantastic music and animation. The world is less open and more of a linear path but they circumvent it by giving you the ability to run. Also it has the sweetest ending!!!

Final verdict? Mother series good. Play all of them

thank you for reading till the end!

#cricket reviews

[fleouriarts]

who are your biggest artistic influences my furry friend? we had art classes together for years but i still feel like i don’t know 😭

😭😭😭 honestly thats probably cus a lot of my artistic influences are specifically internet artists that ive been following for several years and not things i couldve brought up in art class. you know that lame ass mr smith wouldve hated me if i said 'yeah i draw like this cus of some bts fanart girlie on twitter'. thankfully i have the Archivist's Temperament and save like literally everything thats had an effect on my style... so below is a journey thru my artistic influences (and various insp folders on my computer) as far as i can remember

of course the most basal Dorian Influence is disney movies. you are my brother in arms in the lion king fandom so you know this. whenever i am feeling extremely artistically bankrupt i try to revitalize myself by rewatching the lion king, atlantis, and treasure planet. and also the prince of egypt but thats dreamworks LOL

in 2016 i found the first "online" artists i distinctly remember wanting to imitate, which were sara kipin and celia lowenthal because i was obsessed with how they used color to block out their illustrations. ive also been following dimetrodone(/dimetrodrawn/deinocheirus) on here since 2016 and love all the shapes and colors in her work

in 2017 i started doing more detailed shading because i saw bts fanart by the artist tyu_naxx on twitter and loved how they did it (below is like THE piece that made me change my whole shit up)

around then is also when i started trending towards using limited palettes and that was mostly inspired by various national parks promo artworks that would only have like 5 colors in them. wish i remembered who made these but heres ancient scans of some postcards i got at sequoia national park that changed me

in early 2019 i started wanting my style to be more cartoony so i would constantly peruse the backlogs of kiwi, officialspec, skunkes and mimiadraws to get whatever inspiration i could from them

in late 2019 i completely pivoted for some reason and started doing lineless rendered semirealistic stuff instead. i think that was mostly cus i hated doing lineart. one of my biggest inspirations in that era was atissi

in 2020 i remember i went crazy stupid on using glow effects and chromatic aberration on stuff and i genuinely think all of it can be traced to this ONE piece of bts fanart by lordizxy on twitter like i was fully obsessed (putting it below also in case it gets deleted somehow)

mid 2021 was when i got tired of semirealism and thought it was too amorphous and restricting so i went back to cartoony shit. i was still looking at the artists i listed for early 2019 but i also added artists like iplidl, catmunches, and chunkysoup22 to the mix

2022 was an inspirationless nightmare i have no clue what i was doing for that entire year. the artblock was BAD. i mostly just looked at art from all the artists i mentioned before while artistically wandering in circles. a lot of this was me trying and failing to figure out whether i wanted to do more dynamic yet less rendered art or... the opposite of that

thankfully in 2023 i finally FIGURED THAT SHIT OUT. i would say the current dorian art era started with this silly drawing of graydon and riley hivemind as a dogboy and a catboy ⬇️

you can kinda see the influences of all the cartoonists i listed above but a lot of the way i draw now is just. me trying to not make myself hate doing art. ive always hated redoing a line 30000000 times for clean lineart so now its sketchy. rendering my art was making my drawings feel super stiff so now thats all messy too. etc etc

i think Right Now the artists i go to for inspiration the most are still kiwi and skunkes, but i also found the artist robottoast recently who makes RIDICULOUSLY good furry art, its so full of life and personality and i definitely need to commission them someday. the most recent singular piece thats changed my whole shit up is this scott pilgrim fanart by benadieshekiel (also below) because i really liked how the clothes were fully rendered while the skin and hair are less detailed with clear lineart. so sometimes i do that too

ok i think that is as full of a chronicle of Dorian Influences that i can give you rn. i was not lying when i said i wanted to yap. hope you enjoy <3

#ask #saintsdead #also obviously have influences for the themes in my original work but i do not feel like going into all that tbh #how my art Looks is MUCH easier to trace

[pk-freezer-burnt]

Epic Yume Nikki - Dream Diary - Review

Five years ago a reboot of the cult classique video game Yume Nikki was released into the world at the tender age of zero. I have recently completed the game in its entirety, and today....... I share my thoughts.

I remember shatting myself when this game got announced on Steam. I got it on release day! However.... my laptop back then was not strong enough to run it - like I couldn't even move Madotsuki at all and my laptop was torching up. So, super duper sadly, I had to refund it......

And then.... I felt even more disappointed when the initial reviews came rolling in for the game on Steam and they were "Mixed" - and if you are familiar with Steam game reviews, if a game manages to have a mixed reception, it's p much synonymous to shit. I was shocked bro. So since then I was under the impression it was a failed reboot that didn't get the same feel as the original game, or just too new to be seen as Yume Nikki.

Fast forward to recently, when I figured I'd pick the game up again (and now able to play it since I've gotten a new laptop within the past 5 years) and.... I SERIOUSLY wish I didn't listen to those reviews, because now I get that they were probably the crowd that gets too repulsed by reboots/remakes that are too different from the original (Pokemon fans know what Im talking about). Like cmon guys it was made under the supervision of the dude who made the original Yume Nikki themselves

Anyways. HOLY shmoley. I'm serious. This game was SO GOOD!! The art... it was just BEAUTIFUL! In the reboot, you actually get to see Madotsuki's diary (which is full of sketches and concept art as you progress thru the game) and I went ahead and collected ALL the drawings because I love them so much.

I do remember being a little sad that there were less doors (I think?) compared to the original. Number World in the og was my favorite place because somehow seeing a really really long number on the floor was somewhat unsettling. Sadly it wasn't there, but the way the worlds were intertwined and different areas were referenced were SO genius.

Shout out to le new creature made by the original creator, thanks for throwing up blood everywhere when I played hot cross buns on my recorder I mean flute

Ok so I figured out his name is Wrapi :]

Likewise with the worlds, there were only a few effects present in the game instead of 20+. Although I do like the Eye with Hand effect being remade into a Hamsa ^___^ I don't usually see that amulet in media which is awesomesauce. And it's fitting.

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Fisherman, cup boy at the mall filled with blood or juice who tripped and spilled everywhere, AND.....

Also, ironically, the scariest part of the game for me was after you make Mado stab the monster on the highway. and she wakes up. And your controls stop working and she stares at you. Yeah I shat myself bro not even gonna sugarcoat it.

Second scariest part was when the last achievement I had to get was to score 5000 POINTS ON SUPER NASU ARRGHH!! (i did it tho).

Ok so now IT'S ENDGAME TIME.

The game actually has two endings and neither of them are the same as the original. And I think I like that. The main ending... it gave Madotsuki more hope, i think - Like escaping those nightmares and getting back to living life happily. Even though the majority of the game is in the dreamworld, the further you progress, the messier Mado's room got and the more she woke up upset. Seeing the main ending made me happy for her :] I also liked the secret ending (had to look up how to do that one), I think this one implied more of an escapism ending. So not as much closure but yeah.

Overall, I really liked this game. It was a great homage to the original, had engaging puzzles, beautiful arts, and lovely OST remixes.

IN CONCLUSION:

#yume nikki #yume nikki dream diary #the ice cubes speak #my epic game reviews

[lu-kario]

today my dear followers who did not ask for this,

A Very Honest Slenderman(2018) Review!!!

by a creepypasta fanatic and someone who needs to think about smth else to not k- moving onto the "review". (it's not a real review i'm just gonna shit on it obviously)

It's just gonna be a list of things I noticed that bothered me throughout the whole film and made it physically difficult to watch. That was the second movie that took me two days to watch not because I was scared, but because it hurt my brain to finish it. ((((also yes. i am very . VERY . late to the party. i know. don't worry)))

Starting off, the characters are not likeable at all. None of them. They don't behave like actual teenagers. Someone from that directing team was observing high school students for a week with a notepad and was done after thinking they did a good job. I may or may not be autistic and not behave like that either but I've been in high school and have seen stuff. Obviously.

Second of all who just watches adult vids and calls it a night with friends wtf-

Not important . Maybe someone does?? Also these teenagers are created to be so edgy for absolutely no reason ((pointing out that line from ginger girlie saying that the cat should've exploded at the end i'm so fkn glad she was gone first)).

Another thing. Let's get to the star of the mfing show,,, Slenderman .

What they made of him was some kind of a,,, dryad?? Like there's legit some Slenderman Tree in the woods that he walks out of to collect kids and bear them with his big ol' self. Don't get me wrong that concept would be cool on it's own if not the thing that. It doesn't suit him at all. And the Slenderman Summoning Video as well- wth was that . You're telling me some bells (something added for the sake of the movie I suppose bcuz i never heard of that) with added five stock images of what'd you get if you typed 'illuminati' giving you a high speed seizure attack are gonna summon this big boy? The reactions are so hilarious to me as well WHY WERE THESE GIRLS PANTING AS IF THE DAMN SLENDERMAN WAS THERE WITH THEM give me a break. That would hint at least Slendy is some kind of . illuminati-ish experiment left off in the local woods grabbing kids to expand the tree for decades? i suppose.

Mostly what they did with him is giving marble hornets series but make it a on-budget parody that relies for it's damn life on shock value- flashing images constantly, having those ominous shots to make you feel something and lemme tell you i did feel something(nauseous). Also having the original contest images in the film was fucking hilarious so uh +1 for that but that's the only thing i actually liked.

Yet another thing! Nothing in this movie felt genuinely connected to each other,, if it was an artistic interpretation or smth idk i think i wouldn't mind as much but don't be calling this a damn full fleshed out movie.

The Slendy in this movie felt like a totally different being than the original it was sad to watch.

the effects were ,,,alright? like nothing to hate but nothing specific about it to like . it was just alright at best.

very last thing unless i've decided i remembered smth else-

THE LIGHT WORK IN THIS MOVIE WAS SO FUCKING TERRIBLE I HAD MY SCREEN LIGHT SET ON MAX AND STILL COULDN'T SEE A DAMN THING AND GUESS WHAT? THAT WAS THRU OUT LIKE 80% OF THE DAMN MOVIE

enough of that no matter if you enjoyed the ranting have a great day dont watch this movie unless you wanna suffer uhhhh have this cool cat pic of my cat idk what to put here anymore

edit

oh yeah i remember now

WHY DID SLENDY WALKED SO SEDUCTIVELY.............WHAT,

bro was swinging his hips seducing the victims i am done goodbye

#slenderman #shitpost #bcuz its shit #rant #long post

[satanfemme]

(RE: your hunger games post) the casting in the movie is really a crime because they used people that are obviously adults and part of the Oh Shit The Capitol Is EVIL Evil is that they put kids into the hunger games and that’s all lost because Jennifer Lawrence is a model with plucked eyebrows etc SAD!

I was actually contemplating the adult casting and decided I don't think that's the problem, inherently. casting adults is always a bit more moral than making children do labor for you, and wouldn't it be ironic if the "mistreating children is fucked up" movie had a scandal where their child leads were mistreated on set? (and it's not a stretch to make this hypothetical suggestion, the industry of filmmaking is harsh towards children.)

I also noticed, that if you squint, jennifer lawrence can pass as a 16 year old in the movie. specifically from a distance where her perfect "natural" makeup is less discernible, she has a bit of a baby face and her laugh lines are either very subtle or not there at all (if this was because of makeup, I'd consider this element successful)! often what gives away actor's ages are these lines, so it's an important element in making an actor pass as a child, visibly.

her acting is also, as far as I can tell, decent. I have no strong opinions on it but I think book katniss' attitude comes across ok.

I gen think where they fucked up, is that they were afraid to make her look real. not just with the makeup. there's so many shots of district 12 where they highlight the "scary" rednecks living there. (the over-use of shaky cam, and the camera angles they chose made this intention apparent, imo). people who look real and their bodies lived in, with imperfections and wrinkles and messy hair and matte, maybe even dirty, skin. then they cut to the "16 year old" mc, in perfect lighting and a still cam, and she has smooth flawless skin and perfect lip gloss. hairless legs and plucked brows even before the scene where they, in the book, force these traits onto her to sell her as a sex symbol, at 16. it's a hard contrast between the town she's from, and her as an individual. it's impossible to miss that she's fake.

the books scream at you "these are stolen children, being turned into sex symbols before maturity, and being brutally murdered by a corrupt government. and their home is full of good kind people who are misrepresented as savages by the capitol", meanwhile thru 100 different subtle filmmaking techniques, the movie screams, "hey isn't this poor town fucked up and yucky!!!!! btw jennifer lawrence is hot" I don't think jennifer lawrence herself is the crux of the issue, but the decisions that were made around her are.

it's like, I think my point is that in a movie you use things like acting, costuming, and make-up, to turn a human into the character they're supposed to represent. they don't need to be 1:1 with the character irl. like, even if jennifer lawrence wasn't naturally hairy enough, they could've added hair! that is a thing movies can do! it's a job where you're doing play-pretend. jennifer lawrence could've, imo, both looked and acted as a convincing 16 year old, but somewhere along the production decided keeping her sexy was more important than the book's themes.

tl;dr: I agree with you that they fucked up the themes entirely, but don't think casting a child would've inherently fixed the problem. (chances are imo they would've just waxed and plucked the child's body before filming as well, and it'd have the same uncanny effect as what they did with lawrence).

#Anonymous

[bloop-im-a-frog-now]

avec toi, je suis bien - vii

This is the last part of this fic!!! I’m so glad it’s done and I’m so happy about the story I’ve told thru it. Hopefully you guys enjoy this last part just like I enjoyed writing it!

Master Post

— —

Content warnings: sensory overload

haunted by a darker side, transcends to walking in the light

Things couldn’t be more perfect. Their dwelling had all the essentials, a show of Cub’s redstone prowess and Scar’s landscaping mastery as well as a comfortable nest big enough for the two of them. Scar sighs, hands on faer hips as fae gauges faer work, a satisfactory feeling blooming in faer chest. 

Cub hums beside faer. “Impressive.”

“It wouldn’t be complete without your redstone,” Scar laughs, a bit bashful at faer friend’s compliment. 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Cub bumps its elbow against faer side, Scar feigning pain, “the amethyst really adds a nice touch to it.”

Scar rubs faer side, a smile forming on faer face and a rush of magick throughout faer body. Yeah, this was perfect. 

The sun was still up when they were done arranging their hiding spot. 

“Wanna join me exploring a bit?” Scar suggests, glancing at it.

Faer friend shakes its head. “I’ll explore inside the mansion, you can do whatever.”

Scar shrugs. “Your loss.”

And off fae goes, walking through the hole they decided to not patch up, and smelling the nature around faer. The bees buzz close to the flowers and the rabbits hop across the fields, barely leaving any trace behind. 

Scar loves exploring outside, beyond the confinements of the mansion, where there was more life than the walking students and magickmongers. Almost as full of life as their resting place—Scar was really proud of the effect faer landscaping created inside. Fae hopes they’ll stay there as long as they could, fae thinks fae couldn’t handle another long journey to find a mansion for Cub’s magick. 

If they ever get discovered, fae isn’t sure what they’ll do. Leave or try to bargain? Scar will definitely try to bargain and compromise, Cub might take the easier route and leave. A shiver runs down faer spine. Fae hopes it will never come to that. 

All that thinking brings faer close to a village, where most farmermongers housed. Fae didn’t realize faer wandering brought faer so close to the farmermongers, and immediately uses faer magick to dissimulate faer. Fae hasn’t dared to be this close to them, hasn’t dared to know what they thought of Allays or if they could even smell Vex on faer. 

Fae hides behind a house, checking the main plaza as farmermongers go around their business, ears twitching in alert for anyone going close to faer. The only reason why Scar went close to this village was the easy access it offered to the geode fae has discovered. 

Fae no longer needs to do many hours in the wood for some amethyst, this village is close and has everything fae needs. Cub accompanying faer a few times absolutely did not solidify Scar’s opinion of the village, fae totally explored it by faerself without needing to cling onto Cub at every foreign noise. 

This village housed farmers, but also miners and artisans, skilled in the crystal cravings and barter of those valuable items. At least, Scar learned amethyst was a valuable item in the eyes of the farmermongers. Fae hasn’t seen any shards of amethyst in mansions or seen magickmongers use any in all of faer lifetime. 

It has made faer wonder what use the shard of amethyst possibly could have. Not that it matters currently, Scar is on a mission to get more crystals and maybe look for enchanted tools to feed Cub. 

Fae quickly peaks at a window of the house fae’s hiding behind. An artisan raises a shard of amethyst close to their face, glass standing between the two, and inspects it. Faer magick vibrates with envy, a churn in faer stomach begging faer to grab it. Fae wills faer body still and the magick away from the artisan, doubling faer effort to dissimulate faerself, a mantra in faer mind that they haven’t given it to faer, thus fae can’t take it .

Scar never had that problem to dim faer urges, but the drowning magick and the shine of the amethyst are not helping faer situation. Soft chuckles echo in faer mind, giggles and harsh words spinning around and around, the never ending judgmental glares, look at faer, displaying Vex urges, such crassness .

Scar shakes faer head, desperately putting the echoes in the back of faer mind, and faer ears twitch as the ding! of the little bell brings faer back to reality. Fae swiftly cowers under the window, ears still attentive for any approaching movement.

Only the commotion of the plaza can be detected, the house being strangely quiet. Scar frowns and dares to peak despite the increased risks. 

A humanoid, not a farmermonger or a magickmonger (though the magick radiating from them could’ve proven Scar wrong), has entered the workshop, looking around it as the artisan freezes at the sight of the stranger. Scar squints faer eyes and realizes, to faer horror, they look like the humanoids who invaded their mansion.

Scar’s certain their mansion is miles and miles away from this one, how can this humanoid already be in this corner of the world? Aren’t they occupied with the Allays they stole, or with all the magick items they took from the mansion? Scar’s magick prods faer coat, and once again, fae has to keep it under reins, fae can’t tell if the humanoid can sense faer magick or not. 

Radiating magick doesn’t make you a magickmonger. 

“What can I do for you?” the artisan asks.

The humanoid hums. “You’re the lapidarist here?”

The artisan nods at the title. A trill of terror threatens to come out of Scar’s throat, but fae manages to keep it in check as the humanoid speaks.

“What are their properties?”

They slam their palm against the desk, jotting both the artisan and Scar. They lean on their side, looking something in their hand, the artisan’s inspection still in their periphery vision. 

Scar raises on faer tiptoes to effectively observe what exactly the humanoid asked to be inspected. When faer eyes land on the object, magick charges toward faer, pricking faer skin and making faer close faer eyes at the overwhelmness. What are those?

“Where did you get these?” the artisan asks.

They haven’t raised their head to look at the humanoid, their gaze hyperfocused on the gems. That’s what they are, Scar realizes when faer eyes weren’t stinging with magick, crystals, magick crystals. Bright, shiny and most of all, astonishing blue crystals are resting in the artisan’s hand and Scar’s whole body is begging for faer to take them, a bigger urge than taking the shard of amethyst. 

“Just give me what I want.”

The artisan puts the crystals down, Scar squeezing faer eyes shut at the wave of magick they emit, and lets out a deep sigh.

“I need a couple of days before telling their exact properties.”

The humanoid leans in further in the artisan’s space, hands clenching the edge of the table. 

“I’ll give you thirty minutes, nothing more.”

The silence that hangs over them is heavier than an iron block. The humanoid leaves and Scar hides under the window once again. 

The urge to get those blue crystals, those shiny and bright crystals, refuses to calm down and Scar knows fae needs to get some of them for faer and Cub. That instinct to bring something valuable to faer mate, to prove faer loyalty and to show fae cares about it. 

Scar dares a peek at the artisan’s shop once more, and sees the door wide open, no one inside. 

This is faer chance to grab those crystals. They are just lying on the table, ready to be taken. Scar darts at the entrance, making sure faer magick still dissimulated faer, and enters the house.

It’s cold inside despite the warm sun, the rays of light reflect the condensed water on the stone walls, and the magick of the amethysts and other crystals prod at Scar’s skin. 

Fae wants to get away from this place as soon as possible, moisture surrounds faer hands and makes them clammy, which isn’t an ideal texture to steal things. Fae spots the gleaming blue crystals on top of the table, out of faer reach. Of course it’s out of faer reach, fae grumbles. 

Fae finds the chair the artisan was using to sit on and uses it to climb on top of the table. There they are, in all of their glory, magick guiding faer closer to them, enticing faer to touch them, to grab them, to take them for faerself. They’re blue sky, somewhat polished and are glowing harmoniously. 

Scar grabs one and its magick runs through faer veins, boosting faer magick better than any shards of amethyst could do. Fae gasps at the powerful magick in those crystals and takes another one from the pile. 

Just as fae’s about to inspect the other piece, a high-pitch scream deafens faer and fae covers faer ears while cowering in fear at the abrupt sound. fae opens one eye only to see fae has been caught, farmermongers pointing at faer, clutching their hoes and bucket as they frantically call the humanoid. 

Scar knows fae’s screwed. 

Fae jumps on the ground, much to faer legs displeasure, and runs out of the house and into the crowd, the two crystals Scar managed to snatch still in faer hands. Far magick uselessly shields faer from being seen, but non-magical beings can still see faer run into the forest, far away from their village. 

Barks echo and Scar yelps at the sound. Fae slows down to figure which direction they're coming from, but when the echoes surround faer, Scar sucks in a breath and runs blindly further into the forest. 

Fae desperately sends some magick towards Cub in hopes it will find faer and bring faer back home, back to their resting place. The sun’s lowering faster than Scar would’ve liked and fae just wants to go home. 

——

Help , Cub hears. Mate help help help-

That’s Scar. 

What did fae do to send a distress signal? And so far away? Cub pokes its head on their makeshift window, the shimmer of magick being stronger there. Scar doesn’t stop sending distressed magick and it can’t take it anymore. 

It needs to find faer. 

Quickly and quietly, Cub leaves their hiding shelter, the strength of the shimmer guiding it towards its friend. When it arrives at the edge of the forest, its eyes widen in fear, the Allay’s magick not helping. 

What trouble did Scar roped faerself into?

Fae never goes far into the forest, mostly harvesting plants for faer terraforming and decorating their place, and they traversed the forest exactly twice. When they had first found the mansion and when they found the nearest village; but Scar was with it, couldn’t go beyond a certain point. Or so the Vex thought.

Cub takes a deep breath and enters the forest, concentrating on the agitated magick to locate Scar despite it prickling its kin and fluttering its wings. Its ears twitch at the sound of barks and leafs moving sporadically. It’s getting closer to its friend.

It’s when it picks up a familiar muttering, the same one as the magick being sent its way, that it knows it has found faer. Cub hides behind a tree, to hide itself from the barks, sending its magick towards Scar to guide faer towards it. 

The familiar magick reciprocates its message, now soothing its bones instead of prodding its skin. Its eyes survey the land until it finds the familiarly blue figure.

Scar looks out of breath and ready to talk but Cub snatches faer behind it, iron sword in its hand, eyes scanning the area. Its magick immediately creates a bubble to dissimulate them from any creatures. 

The barks are harder to hear, they’re getting away from them. 

Cub lets out a sigh of relief before turning its glaring gaze at the Allay. Scar lets out a sheepish chuckle, trying so hard to look innocent, but Cub knows better and knows Scar knows. 

Scar trills, soothing Cub somewhat (not as efficiently as when Cub was neutral), and brings faer claw between them. Cub tilts its head, fur standing on its edge at the strong magick with a mix of the Allay’s that emitted from the claw. 

Cub frowns, not used to that strong rush of magick. What did Scar find?

Scar opens faer claw, and Cub’s eyes widen at the sight of the powerful magick released by the blue crystal—the same blue as Scar’s fur. 

“I may have spotted these and took ‘em.” The Vex’s wings flutter at the strange choice of words. “But now we have a constant supply of magick!”

Cub admires the crystals and the magick radiating from them. Swirls of a darker blue mix with the light blue, illuminating in Scar’s palm. Cub doesn’t know about the constant magick supply, after all, the Allay had many shards of amethyst back in their abode and Cub’s exploring had more usages than just exploring. 

Scar moves faer hand closer to faerself, picking up one perfectly cut shard and handing it to Cub, a smile on faer face. 

And Cub can only stare, magick buzzing around it, trying to reach out for Scar’s at the gesture. Giving gifts had always been how Cub knew the hive still appreciated it, it was an honor to receive a gift from a Vex. 

Cub takes the shard and puts it back with the other, closing Scar’s claws around them and closing is eyes. For the gift to truly be mesmeric, the Vex’s magick invites the Allay’s magick to mix and pour it into those crystal, to have their mark on it. 

Cub’s wings flutter in excitement when Scar’s magick touches its, despite the aches it creates on its back. Its friend trills and sways side to side, boosting the link between them and flood the crystals with their magick. 

When the ritual is done, Cub opens its eyes, smiling when Scar jumps on faer feet. 

“That was amazin’ !”

Cub takes one of the crystals, placing it beside its iron sword as Scar marvels at the glow around the crystal. 

“Why did you send a distress signal?”

Scar freezes, eyes shifting away from Cub, much to its confusion. 

“Scar?” it prods.

Scar inhales sharply. “Now, don’t be mad, bu-ut I may have stolen them from the village.”

Cub quirks an eyebrow, waiting for more. Scar sighs in defeat.

“The magick was compelling me to steal them, they actually came from a humanoid, if you can imagine.”

Cub glances at the crystal, somehow not surprised to learn a humanoid has found crystals as powerful as these. 

“So the village chased you down.”

“Yep.”

Cub sighs, but can’t help but laugh. Of course Scar would steal powerful crystals and gift it to the Vex. That’s what Scar does best. 

“Why doesn’t it surprise me?”

“Hm?”

Cub smiles, gesturing faer to follow it. “C’mon, let’s go back to the base.”

Scar trills, a skip to faer step as they walk back to the mansion, being cautious of any monsters that might harm them. 

Eventually, Scar finds a way to pierce their ears like fae has seen many farmer and magickmongers do, and they manage to hang the crystal on their ear. Eventually, they learn when they grow apart, the crystals don’t glow—which the Vex may or may not have taken advantage of it whenever the Allay pranks it. Eventually, they learn when they’re apart, they can still sense the other’s magick, like the dying embers of a fire, bringing the both of them a sense of comfort at the knowledge.

And if others ask them if they’re married, Cub and Scar would always look at each other, mischief in their eyes and magick, and—depending on the day—would confirm or deny or would do neither, making some strange story about it. But, with the crystals making their bond stronger, they had to admit whatever it is they have is quite powerful in of itself.

<- Previous_Master Post

#im pretty sure this is the longest part lmaoooo #convex #gtws #goodtmeswithscar #cubfan135 #queerplatonic relationships #aromantic character #asexual character #idk if its prominent for me to put these tags... #anyways scar steals some crystals and almost gets caught #cub manages to reach scar before they get attacked #vex #allay #minecraft worldbuilding #aromantic goodtimeswithscar #asexual cubfan135 #bloop's attention seeking strategy #tw: sensory overload

[slice-of-magenta]

1 4 7 13 👀❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hi!

7) Favorite Food? 🤔🤔 ... Maybe fish tacos? Ice cream, if that counts. Huevos rancheros. Maybe a full dish of food with rice as the side... Im also getting hungry as I type.

13) What inspired me to start drawing:

Drawing had been the most expressive I have been as a kid or teen if Im being honest 😂. I had drawn in the past for others (example: siblings), though not for myself really. It feels weird drawing stuff just for my own enjoyment.

I did stop for a few years and was pulled in again for the teen wolf fandom (and I dont remember why that was). What inspires me currently is sometimes I feel I can communicate better with pics than words and I just maybe feel greedy to see the scene the way I want to see it lol. Its just me trying to communicate. I get motivated though by music or other shows that have dynamics I want to explore.

14) there is a few that pops in my head ..my least favorite thing to draw are the hands. If I fail the hands, the whole drawing looks understandably rubbish. If you look at some art and ask, if the hands were half-assed or incomplete, yeah maybe it will dwindle the effect or impact. Or some ppl get a lil unimpressed. I do struggle with making it look realistic enough.

(And that kinda is frustrating bc I think hands is just a huge deal with drawing sciles too. They communicate thru their hands! Taking pain, thumb pets, hands over shoulders, hands embracing each other in a hug, etc.) And I still need more practice, but I have gotten better. I dont avoid it as much as I did before, which is crazy bc I wanted to draw hands since day one! Im just not used to it, thats why I go a lil insane trying to get it close enough 😅

Thank-you ❤️

#ask #❤️❤️❤️❤️🫂

[ivettel]

behind the curtain ep 4

bit late with this one but i wanted to finish laundry first so here we go.. notes on this bitch

right off the bat, yes! i did rotoscoping!

what! after avoiding it since 2017!! shoutout to jennifer @antoniosvivaldi for inspiring me to do that, btw. you should absolutely check out her stuff if you haven't already--her style is so unique and refreshing!

for the most part, i think they turned out swell--after effects behaved itself for once, which like, thank fuck, because i was on a call with fio @maranello and others at 1 in the morning like "haha! i totally know what i'm doing!" narrator voice they did NOT know what they were doing, they were making educated guesses based on past horrible experiences (hence avoiding rotoscoping for years 💀).

but this is meant to be educational lol so! what is rotoscoping? simply put, it's a tracing technique. it has its roots way back in animation when tech was starting to pick up in like the 1920s and artists wanted a more efficient way of animating. rotoscoping is one of those tools that've been used differently from how it was originally intended, which is actually? so cool from like, a media arts study perspective?? because it's commonplace to use it for live-action film and vfx work as a way to mask scenes out and isolate them in addition to its original use of mapping things to isolated scenes. i won't bore you with the stuart hall encoding/decoding stuff, but just know that i find the development of digital art circa adobe dominance fascinating. i am using this century-old animation technique to impose my blorbo upon the eyes of thousands.

ANYWAY. i really liked this particular mask--it has a lot of movement but still manages to flow nicely?

me: [cuts off luke's arm] fio: i think that's his arm me: oh... my god

next up: the lightsaber

goodness. where do i start. well first of all i had a vision of something much more 2d when it comes to lightsaber anatomy, lol. but i extended my subscription for maxon and figured--why not take full advantage of this while i've still got it? so i got this 3d model of luke's lightsaber. it's untextured and unrigged and clunky but thankfully it had most of the inner parts so as far as i'm concerned i struck GOLD.

idk what i can really say in terms of like What Is 3d Modelling, because i think people have an understanding of that. so we'll go instead thru my process!

i added materials and added a null object (does that count as rigging? for something as straightforward as this?) to do a simple rotation animation on the first day...

and then i had an idea before bed to separate the parts like that one scene in the clone wars where they show how a lightsaber is assembled, except i haven't watched the scene so god knows how they animated it NKJFGNDFKJGDF. anyway the day after, this was kinda where i got:

keyframing on c4d is a Bitch because u can't just Access The Graph Editor you have to go through the dope sheet and change ur views and it's just. annoying!! coming from an after effects standpoint! but i can see how it's optimized for Actual Animation work so ughgh. we deal. onwards..

asked the team over at usergif and natalie @kenobiis suggested putting in a kyber crystal to fill out the middle. i ended up taking the og "laser" cylinder and modifying/animating it because uh THIS is the real inside of a lightsaber and i am not putting all that into a 3 second gif LMAO. but yeah i fine-tuned the animation and plopped it in after effects, then fiddled with video copilot's saber to make luke's blade.

u might notice the motion blur--that's re:vision's RSMB! i also added a little bit of depth of field with frischluft, but it doesn't show up well in gif form. speaking of things that don't render well:

there is A FUCK TON of aliasing going on. i couldn't make any anti-aliasing settings work for some reason so i ended up trying to smooth it out in ae.. to probably not a lot of effect. i got the very edges around it smoothed out with the classic gaussian blur and a matte choker method, but the black rings are killer. ugh. it's whatever, i figure i'll work something better out for the next time.

finished animation in c4d + the final gif:

the rest

everything else is fairly basic and intuitive i think? obviously used shape layers + alpha mattes, my beloved. i fucked up a little on the text because i think i made my offset keyframes backwards somewhere in the middle of the process but at that point i was too lazy to go back in and fix it. oops!

anyway if u got this far hello thank u i hope this was informative in some way. if u have any questions don't be afraid to ask :D

#behind the curtain