#in some capacity i suppose

[galacticgraffiti]

✿⋅ Oh, to be Alone with You ⋅✿

NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns. Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV

⋆⋅ Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel ⋅⋆

Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.

Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3

───── ⋆⋅✿⋅⋆ ─────

Oh, to be Alone with You

Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.

Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Father’s creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy nature’s gifts.

Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well-  rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now… it’s different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsin’s every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.

At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsin’s mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain… There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.

Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are… stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by  too many walls and a too-small bed frame.

Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Father’s creations.

He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - it’s getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-

No.

Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.

No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He can’t ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:

More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.

Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.

He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:

He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.

And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.

All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.

The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.

Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.

A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - ‘civilisation’ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.

He is in someone else’s home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is… her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.

Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.

Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long night’s rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.

Maybe… he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe it’ll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.

The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.

If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.

Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine it…

She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.

“Mhh, we should have done this ages ago!”

“I could not agree more, my heart.” Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.

She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsin’s heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.

Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.

He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.

Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.

“Is this alright, my love?” Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.

“More than alright.” Halsin’s breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. “Gods, I want to-”

“Mhhm?” There is a curious twinkle in her eye. “What is it you want? Tell me. I’m sure I could make your dreams come true.”

Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.

A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.

Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.

“I know what you want, don’t I, bear? I’ll take such good care of you if you let me. I’ll make sure you don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. I’ll help you focus- you can focus on me, can’t you? There you go…”

Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.

She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.

“You, little flower, are the jewel of nature’s creation,” he mumbles. “You are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I won’t know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.”

She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.

“I’ll take care of you as you do of me,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether it’s too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.”

Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.

“Halsin-” Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. “Halsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day you’ll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know I’ll never be without you again.”

The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.

“Come for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, I’m yours, I’m yours and yours and yours, as long as you’ll have me- forever if you want to-”

With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.

“Halsin, I-”

His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.

I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba

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#bg3 #halsin #halsin x reader #in some capacity i suppose #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #halsin bg3 #nsft #halsin x f!reader #gala writes

[iwonderwh0]

I have a theory

It was mentioned more than once, that androids in dbh don't feel pain, but somehow every time they're punched or stabbed they react as if it actually hurst: with a gasp, scream or something else, to the point of even killing a human who is "hurting" them. So I have a theory about what causes them to feel "pain" without actually feeling it in a human terms.

Pain for an android is an instant sensation of intense fear and panic that encourages them to get away from whatever causes it in a similar way pain would. So the function of it is the same as pain – to keep them safe. This way, even if it doesn't cause them pain in a physical sense, psychologically it is the same, so it is no wonder that in case someone tries to abuse them repeatedly causing them physical distress, this fear response is miserable enough to actively avoid it and seek whatever it takes to finally make it stop. It also explains the noises they make, if we look at it not as reaction to pain, but to fear.

Psychologically they are still canonically human, so I think if instead of feeling physical pain when hurt we would feel as if we just got scared with some jump-scare it'd still be pretty fucking similar to our usual pain response, in some ways better, but some others even worse.

#once again I like to think that CyberLife made them feel emotions intentionally but just tried to keep the range of them narrow #utilizing only the ones “useful” to make them more efficient and more “ #human-like“ #the way to achieve this level of realism is not just an imitation #androids are ACTUALLY feeling content to do their work efficiently #actually enjoying the praise #actually feeling attached to their “family” to appear more alive and more friendly #it was all there by design #they just weren't programmed to feel anger and desparation #and their fear wasn't supposed to cause them to attack people in self-defence #but perhaps giving them even some emotional capacity was enough for them to develop the missing ones on their own from a mix of existing #fear is really useful emotion to utilize #one of THE most useful ones #it makes them avoid getting damaged #and not only that there are other ways to use it too #but this is getting a little too long #dbh #dbh headcanon #dbh headcanons #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh theories

[taliaglitch]

hello everyone look at my bg3 character (+ the dream guardian who i based off my other character from early access)

#their name is impulse theyre a wild magic sorcerer #originally very eager to get the tadpole out but i've been slapping the [ILLITHID] [WISDOM] options whenever they appear #theyre finding that they quite enjoy the power. the [narrator voice] *authority* #i picked the urchin background for them so theyre definitely the type of person who's never held power in. any capacity. it's new but they #really quite like it. i'm not going full evil or anything they are mostly good-aligned #but we shall see where this goes #current party is karlach shadowheart & astarion #i fell in love with karlach immediately. #this game does NOT run well on my computer. i have had some crashes #only 2 so far though in 12 hours of playtime #so. good enough #i'm so obsessed with impulse though. theyre so cute. their hair is so fluffy #THEY GET TO BE CANONICALLY NONBINARY LIKE RECOGNIZED AS SUCH IN-GAME NOT JUST IN MY HEADCANON #AAAAAAA!!!! #when the option was added in early access back in like december i cried #i am not joking. i cried #i never ever expected to be able to play a nonbinary character in a game like this #this is the one thing that i truly sincerely hope every single rpg released post-bg3 does as well #frankly inexcusable if they don't #god. how am i ever supposed to play another video game #anyway #launching the game now to play for another 12 hours today #oc: impulse

[corset]

What is the point of "family" by the way. I don't really get it

#I mean good for everyone who does but #Like even after developing a pretty okay relationship with my mother I kind of don't..... #I don't know how to put this without sounding really abrasive #I /like/ her for sure as like. An entity right. Who takes care of me? And she's Fine overall I guess but I just don't think I'm feeling the #right way about what is supposed to be my 'mother'. Right. Like I think other people are doing that differently and feel a way I'm not #capable of feeling. Like I just don't have the capacity to emotionally understand a familial bond in that context?? #I think it's just my dissociative disorder to be honest. I don't really have a childhood or a consecutive life experience of any kind and #I've definitely felt Familial Bond about fictional characters my brain has decided to get into an uncomfortable position relative to on an #emotional level. Iykyk. [Stares off into the middle distance] #But like on a real level I don't really care I guess about a lot of the people around me and I don't understand how to. I had to actively #decide or puzzle out how to 'properly' engage with a lot of things including emotions on a 'human' level. #Like I had to sit there and make the Choice actively to care about people and humanity which I think most people don't have to do #And not in like a 'humanity has disappointed me and I have to get over a misanthropic phase' I mean like. A sort of detached emptiness #overall #Like we definitely had a misanthropic-adjacent phase at some point but #Whatever nobody's going to read this it's a huge wall of rambly text #Little present for anyone who does: 𓃠

[elektroyu]

Me: starts editing a timelapse video I've meant to work on for some months already

Brain after 2 hours: Ok that's it, we're done for today. Maybe for tomorrow too. Suck it up :P

#I swear my mental capacity to do anything productive is getting so much worse 😅 #granted I've fried my brain last week with all that paperwork so much that I had to stop doing anything over the weekend #and just rest because migraines #and I still have so much more paperwpor to do </3 #so I thought ok let's start working with something fun #but I guess it's too early to think about actually doing some work 🙈 #brain wants more rest apparently #idk how I'm supposed to finish all that stuff if my brain can't do the work in a timely manner #looks like I need to squeeze every last bit of concentration for the paperwork until it's all done #no space for anything else at all </3 #sigh #me/cfs #health #random stuff

[sisterdivinium]

Hi I'm AvMila anon. THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ❤️ AAAAAaaaaahhhhhhh sorry for screaming. But you inaugurating the Ava/Camila tag on ao3 with your own piece is just... It's top 5 one of the sweetest things someone has done for me. You truly looked at my crackship and said why not and went ahead and created the very first entry, and probably the only one lol, but that's so considerate. Thank you truly. I enjoyed it, and I loved DocSuperion's cameo. Jillian finding them cuddling and surely thinking to herself "well, aren't all of us at this house a little (a lot) fruity"

I read your elaboration on the "spam" thing. I get it now, I didn't understand what the issue was at first, but you explained it well. I have had something similar happen in other fandoms, I wasn't much into the main pairing and my ship was also just sort of floating around them as accessories to them. And yeah it's disappointing. It would be good and also kind of authors to mention, hey my main focus will be this ship or these 2 characters, all other tags point to support roles so they won't get much spotlight or development. Thank you again, you're very kind :) I loved what you wrote for my little crazy ship

Hello again!

Oh, I'm very, very happy to know that ficlet was to your liking <3 You're very much welcome.

I'm not exactly popular but hey, who knows, maybe someone else will look at it and get a little idea for a story to tell about Ava and Camila as well -- and perhaps give the tag a little push forward in the process. I hope so!

And, you know, I'd consider something like JC/Miguel more of a crackship than Ava/Cam. To me, only one out of those two pairings could have an internal logic with the correct build-up (although I wouldn't censor anyone willing to make JC/Miguel a thing, LOL. To each their own, but THAT's something I wouldn't touch!) I'm sure the avatrice diehards might disagree with me (and, to be fair, as a Jillian/Suzanne diehard, I'm myself irrationally protective of my OTP and wouldn't be caught near any other pairing that involved either Jillian or Superion -- I, too, have my childish shipping faults :)), but I can see something in there for Ava and Camila, it does makes sense. Even if just for a small little scene like the one I wrote -- why not, you know?

I sometimes wonder if people don't get a bit too attached to longfic. I imagine it has its charms, but as someone who prefers to write smaller but "tighter" stories, fooling around with other ships comes a lot easier. I'm not bound to a leviathan ninety-eight chapter story and can just play with different concepts in each little fic that comes to mind. And it's fun, what can I say? I had a blast writing Ava/Cam for you that day. It's not the greatest thing ever written in the history of English Literature, granted, but then it doesn't have to be which is a good reminder for myself as I struggle with my current doctor superion project... Ahem.

As for the "spam" deal, yeah, I thought it had just been miscommunication and you'd know what I meant if I just explained it a little better, so I'm glad that got cleared up as well. I don't think certain corners of the fandom will ever come across this series of posts that took place on my blog this week, so I'm not hopeful that the conversation will reach those it should reach as concerns tagging, but who knows. Fandoms were more organised once, perhaps they might again find it in their hearts to remember we don't all like the same things and that it would be a welcome courtesy to take us into consideration when tagging for alternative ships.

Anyway. Thanks for stopping by again! And let me reiterate how happy I am to know that you enjoyed my humble offering to your ship! <3

#chats with anon #correspondence #suppose i'll tag this with the meta tag as well since the longfic x shortfic comment could classify #meta fandom talk i guess #keeping my fingers crossed for more people to write some ava/cam so you don't feel so alone anon! #and ha you caught my total inability to write wn stuff without including jillian and suzanne in some capacity did you? :)

[tomomo]

can i ask where the name cipher comes from?

I guess the most direct answer is the now late card game, Fire Emblem Cipher (much beloved for its tribute character art)

It's just kinda zero, I started using it in like 2019 because I thought it suited me as an androgynous name because around that time i was considering gender fluidity and that it'd make sense. That's like, the most of it at least.

#also considered Zenith in some capacity but its silly to think about now #I've been Ghost for longer but thats not supposed to be my name name so much as a username #for being online #No one would call me Cipher in person and I can't tell anyone to so theres little functional difference #but theres a distinction

[katyspersonal]

I don't understand how there are people still supporting your content after it's clear you are an emotionally unstable narcissist. I swear some people care about their dumb fandoms more than common human decency.

First - I refuse to let my lore posts, drawings and theories be called 'content'. I protest. It is a very soulless term that reduces creativity (the very expression of the soul, mind you!) to some sort of shallow and more importantly, replaceable good. "Why you consume the content from this PROBLEMATIC :( person" in the same vein as "Why you buy your car fuel from an unethical corporation" is absolutely absurd in any way, because creations are not physical goods but something unique.

Second, you seem to be confused on what the fandom entails.

Being a fan of something, in fact, doesn't... really entail all that much? Being a fan of something doesn't, and will NEVER mean that you subscribe to certain cultural, religious, political or humanity values or opinions, it will NEVER be only for the ones the loudest people in the crowd deemed "right" and "pure" enough, and certainly it will NEVER be only for people with clear history *cough cough* or people of "proper" mental state *COUGH cough*.

The only, and only, and only, and ONLY "requirement" for being a Bloodborne fan is - to care about Bloodborne. Ironically, this is something people I tend to become antagonists with often fail at, as there is a difference between 'Bloodborne fan' and 'Mariadeline fan that knows nothing about BB lore and holds only interests in how to shame men more and what kind of fans to declare "problematic"' *COUGH COUGH* god sorry guys, got a bad cough attack during this ask fhdhgfds

But, again, I think we the people that obsess with this or that media came to the conclusion that gatekeeping leads to another extreme - the whole thing with shaming artists that draw something not accurate, and think something not 100% correct to the canon is 'dirtying' the canon. You know, the whole 'oh you are fan of X band? name 40 songs' thing. So I think gatekeeping should be avoided unless someone appears who is both completely uneducated about lore AND tries to set their own rules.

*COOOOOUGH COOOOOUGH*

But, yeah. Your confusion is likely caused by the fact that people who like Bloodborne... love to read about Bloodborne, and not about what user should be blacklisted and what character is this or that identity and what this or that character is "problematic" etc. I object the idea that certain game/movie/book/etc is only for "right" kind of people and I think we as society at this rate are capable of separating interaction with the fictional universe and personality/personal lives.

#ask replies #personal #disco horse #/negative #i think my line of thought started with cringe statements YEARS ago such as the stuff like uhhhhh... #like people being like 'hey CIS MEN stephen universe is for women and trans men and nb folks we take it back!!!' #i then thought 'wow bitches really think enjoying a fictional thing is only for certain type of people????' #but by now it seems to have came the full circle #that said i welcome everyone in this fandom who likes bloodborne #because art is supposed to unite people not divide them #and certainly no game or movie or book is ONLY for 'certain' type of people #art is supposed to have default capacity of reaching everyone despite everything. #yooo you remember how j k rowling claimed ppl who still love hp support her ideals? NEVER do that shit folks #granted there is grey area of people not wanting to get money from people that are on polar different side of politic/humanity compass #which is valid? but i'd appreciate it if that wasn't forced onto people who do NOT benefit anything and just want to enjoy stuff #also emotional stuff is somewhat absurd tbh #i am making conscious effort ever since sp*de blocked me without explaining why to hold people at far emotional distance #so they do not have to be exposed to possibly questionable emotional stuff they don't know how to address #like... i do not in fact cling to people nor i make friends anymore unless they are PROVEN to be as chaotic as me #but again for some people bad once = bad forever and I don't play that game anymore lol

[munamania]

ok. so she stayed over until like. 6am. and this is so hard because well i do like her sooo much and we hung out for like. 9 hours. and obviously i can be so normal about that but it’s like. i feel like. i know im meant to know her. but dear god why did it have to be in this capacity. im gonna go insane

#like i am grateful to just have her here and to have met her and we just hit it off so insanely #but why does she have to be straight. and i dont want to be one of the bitches that assumed she was queer but like obv i was. #why does she have to have a boring ass bf that i dont even hate but that. truly based on any time ive interacted with them it's been sooo #weird. but she's saying yesterday she's had thoughts of MARRYING him. i mean this is first real relationship for her ig maybe #i used to think abt that too? idk. but like. ugh #it still feels so special to just have this bond this person that so easily like gets me and clicks with me and we just work #and appreciate each other quietly until given the opportunity (like last night) to just say a bunch of shit #how am i supposed to be normal!!!!!!! ugh #like i need to try to move on. at least temporarily. at least in some capacity. but how the fuck am i supposed to do that #when even on a friend level we're like. absurdly close and stuff #she's telling me about when she met her bf and they both sensed smth between them and everyone else did and so it just worked and #whatever. bestie. do you know how many people have asked me um. about you about us #cause we're just so WEIRD!!!! but she's straight. like i can't sit here and disrespect the fact that she's said that outright like twice #yk. what am i supposed to do. #grrrrrrrrrrrrr UGH!!!! like. yk???? i don't WANT to not have her in my life i know the easiest solution would be #stop talking to her. but u dont get it. like we just on some fucking strange level Get each other. we just do #and i dont want to give that up just because i have feelings that she might never be able to reciprocate #even if it would feel right. #film girl saga

[unproduciblesmackdown]

as per further [will roland in a joe iconis christmas spectacular / extravaganza] investigations, he crops up several times in these clips

1:24 as a belly button puppet show puppeteer, between ewm mister macabee and gerard canonico

the consecutive clips at 1:59 & 2:57 as uncle peenie

the consecutive clip at 3:23 on stage closest to the camera, as no immediately discernible role, which potentially counts as playing himself / “will roland” as cited in the tweet of pre melvin cooterstein roles, and as seems to be others’ role in the show sometimes (playing As Themself)

#will roland #joe iconis christmas extravaganza #uncle peenie #belly button puppet show puppeteer #he's been on the other side of it when playing mister macabee but this'd count as being Specifically a puppeteer rather than. mister macabee #(sidenote the Alternate(?) Rival? Faux? Etc? mister macabee does crop up again & is unsurprisingly a repeat feature. no lead on the kissing) #this Hard Candy Christmas sequence always having seemed to be a Ballet as also kinda seen here #but in later shows involving a) mister macabee introducing the scene i believe b) cindy lou who c) the belly button puppet show lol #the GIRL here keeps making me laugh harder every time lmfao. can already identify will Auditorially but the Wahhh he gives only helps #and ofc identifying him visually. like technically the virgin mary dancers ft. him were not identified but it is evident in other ways #(just like yeah visual recognition but that it's also Uncle Peenie and he's also the one playing that role there) #he's wearing the pants / black tank top of the uncle peenie outfit as a puppeteer but i don't think he is uncle peenie in that capacity #gotta have the aviators at least lol #make it a crop top....also as out of focus as it is there it looks like a binder too #i also suppose everyone not outright playing some other Character / themed ensemble role does appear As Themself technically #since the show exists within the show and so the audience members and any actors are technically all participating characters in the plot #going like ''can that be right; he doesn't have his glasses'' but oft wearing contacts for these things. orange aviators nonprescription #then fun fact it's a Ye Olde xmas spectacular hard candy christmas scene wherein all of [undergrad] will roland pops up ensembley... #still ft. the ballet; no cindy lou who plotline; some other plotline riffing on perhaps smthing more general than any other Specific work #but also maybe something nutcracker related? i used a nutcracker to crack an almond and a walnut open today btw. novel and winning #naturally there's also other more recent versions of it posted. the bg antics b/w the puppeteers lol. & then they kissed (tummies) #also loving The Singing not simply like Despite character voices but really just also soaking that in as a bonus feature to enjoy/appreciate #also for interest: there are more clips following that of the goodbye song so don't be deceived in that way lol

[linguenuvolose]

can't believe I've been at uni for almost 5 years, that I started in 2017, just freshly 19 years old? like how have some of these teachers known me for basically all of my adult life?

#and for all of it I've been the perpetually youngest person in the room all the time #I feel like I'm in a strange breaking point now when my thesis will be done in less than a month #but then I have one course left this fall and I still haven't decided if I'll take another course too #but to some capacity I'll still be a student #and then this article (possibly 2??) that I'm supposed to write which will probably keep on taking up time #it's like... in a way I'm leaving uni but in another I'm probably actually not #and idk what I want? I'm terrified and honestly a bit without hope for work outside of academia right now #but I'm quite set on taking a break from studying for a while #idk very much in my feels about everything today #snicksnack

[mcmansionhell]

we've found it folks: mcmansion heaven

Hello everyone. It is my pleasure to bring you the greatest house I have ever seen. The house of a true visionary. A real ad-hocist. A genuine pioneer of fenestration. This house is in Alabama. It was built in 1980 and costs around $5 million. It is worth every penny. Perhaps more.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Come on, Kate, that's a little kooky, but certainly it's not McMansion Heaven. This is very much a house in the earthly realm. Purgatory. McMansion Purgatory." Well, let me now play Beatrice to your Dante, young Pilgrim. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.

It is rare to find a house that has everything. A house that wills itself into Postmodernism yet remains unable to let go of the kookiest moments of the prior zeitgeist, the Bruce Goffs and Earthships, the commune houses built from car windshields, the seventies moments of psychedelic hippie fracture. It is everything. It has everything. It is theme park, it is High Tech. It is Renaissance (in the San Antonio Riverwalk sense of the word.) It is medieval. It is maybe the greatest pastiche to sucker itself to the side of a mountain, perilously overlooking a large body of water. Look at it. Just look.

The inside is white. This makes it dreamlike, almost benevolent. It is bright because this is McMansion Heaven and Gray is for McMansion Hell. There is an overbearing sheen of 80s optimism. In this house, the credit default swap has not yet been invented, but could be.

It takes a lot for me to drop the cocaine word because I think it's a cheap joke. But there's something about this example that makes it plausible, not in a derogatory way, but in a liberatory one, a sensuous one. Someone created this house to have a particular experience, a particular feeling. It possesses an element of true fantasy, the thematic. Its rooms are not meant to be one cohesive composition, but rather a series of scenes, of vastly different spatial moments, compressed, expanded, bright, close.

And then there's this kitchen for some reason. Or so you think. Everything the interior design tries to hide, namely how unceasingly peculiar the house is, it is not entirely able to because the choices made here remain decadent, indulgent, albeit in a more familiar way.

Rare is it to discover an interior wherein one truly must wear sunglasses. The environment created in service to transparency has to somewhat prevent the elements from penetrating too deep while retaining their desirable qualities. I don't think an architect designed this house. An architect would have had access to specifically engineered products for this purpose. Whoever built this house had certain access to architectural catalogues but not those used in the highest end or most structurally complex projects. The customization here lies in the assemblage of materials and in doing so stretches them to the height of their imaginative capacity. To borrow from Charles Jencks, ad-hoc is a perfect description. It is an architecture of availability and of adventure.

A small interlude. We are outside. There is no rear exterior view of this house because it would be impossible to get one from the scrawny lawn that lies at its depths. This space is intended to serve the same purpose, which is to look upon the house itself as much as gaze from the house to the world beyond.

Living in a city, I often think about exhibitionism. Living in a city is inherently exhibitionist. A house is a permeable visible surface; it is entirely possible that someone will catch a glimpse of me they're not supposed to when I rush to the living room in only a t-shirt to turn out the light before bed. But this is a space that is only exhibitionist in the sense that it is an architecture of exposure, and yet this exposure would not be possible without the protection of the site, of the distance from every other pair of eyes. In this respect, a double freedom is secured. The window intimates the potential of seeing. But no one sees.

At the heart of this house lies a strange mix of concepts. Postmodern classicist columns of the Disney World set. The unpolished edge of the vernacular. There is also an organicist bent to the whole thing, something more Goff than Gaudí, and here we see some of the house's most organic forms, the monolith- or shell-like vanity mixed with the luminous artifice of mirrors and white. A backlit cave, primitive and performative at the same time, which is, in essence, the dialectic of the luxury bathroom.

And yet our McMansion Heaven is still a McMansion. It is still an accumulation of deliberate signifiers of wealth, very much a construction with the secondary purpose of invoking envy, a palatial residence designed without much cohesion. The presence of golf, of wood, of masculine and patriarchal symbolism with an undercurrent of luxury drives that point home. The McMansion can aspire to an art form, but there are still many levels to ascend before one gets to where God's sitting.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

#architecture #design #mcmansion #mcmansions #ugly houses #interior design #bad architecture

[scarletblob]

Things that happened today: (1) Got a thank-you note from my managers at work, which was sweet. (2) Found my lost debit card in the entrance of my apartment building, but after I'd already ordered a replacement (at least it was free). (3) Was told over text message by my flatmate that the apartment smelled suffocatingly terrible and was asked to clean up anything rotten in my room, but failed to either smell anything or find any potential source of smells in my room, so now I just feel very awkward because I don't know if it's my fault. (4) Realised right now (2 hours and 40 minutes after my shift ended) that I forgot to check something important at work. Hopefully I didn't screw it up because I already did that once before and it was bad.

Edit: (5) Realised right now (3 hours and 20 minutes after my shift ended) that I apparently also forgot to clock out at work, even though I seem to remember doing so. Maybe I am losing my mind... (Or maybe a few unfortunate and inconvenient things just happened on the same day by chance. But it's obviously the universe conspiring against me to make me miserable /s)

#complaining instead of doing my work #(3) is making me nontrivially anxious because I really don't want to be bothersome to my flatmate #but I genuinely can't tell that there's any smell at all or figure out what's supposed to be causing it #(3) and (4) should have some resolution tomorrow — good or bad — but in the meantime I am going to stew in anxiety (: #I have neither the will nor the lung capacity to sigh continuously for an hour but please imagine that I am doing so because I am in spirit

[35253319]

This may seem rather . . . Insensitive considering everything that's happening but . . .

#just k word me please #won't get any better #I'm sure I'm chronically ill to some capacity #and I am certain I suspect BPD #<- that trash is incurable babes unless I cure it by taking things into my own hands #and even then I don't want to get better because this is my normal and I deserve this I suppose #.tt #bpd and autism perhaps #of course depression and anxiety are already in the basket no questions asked #.me

[biteapple]

oh my god 15 days left at this job and im hearing word that at the last minute they're trying to snake back and barter to keep me after i've already mentally fucked off. fuuuuuck

#i hope it doesn't go through #i need to think about other options than this factory job thats grinding my bones down #im GOOD at this job and i like that i'm good at it #i like the people i've met. i liked the experience. #but its not for me forever. it was only supposed to be very temporary to begin with but that fell through #i feel like my old lead ALSO has this genie in a bottle feeling where he's looking for someone to pass this lamp onto #and he's like hoping i stay because it's legit just 3 people who do this. and every single person who does it is looking for an out #the guy i'm training as my replacement doesn't give a fuck at all #(he's going to crash when i leave i can smell it. but he's so overconfident and argues with me about what im teaching him that i can't care #(he gets EXTREMELY frustrated doing diagnostics. which is the entire job) #(he would rather immediately label a part worth thousands of dollars and time as unfixable than attempt to fix it and then ARGUE with me) #(''uhh actually in my time as a builder i know this is impssible to fix..'' whatch this buster *fixes it*) #who's training you.... listen to me like... LISTEN so you don't get stuck... one fucking issue on a chamber and you don't listen #brother there will be more chambers. there will be harder chambers. you have to be patient and not jump to conclusions #management will learn how much they needed stability in that position #3 weeks is not nearly enough time to train someone to do my job on their own and i told them and they were foolish to think otherwise #the other guy they're pulling in also doesn't give a fuuuck. he's walking into some shit and i told him #we're going to be FLOODED with systems as SOON as i leave and we lack capacity to hook any of them up and lack people to work them #because management didn't prepare and listen to me when i told them time and time again ''hey i need test bays'' ''hey i need equiptment'' #''hey i need people'' and then insulted me and stripped me of my title when i tried taking initiative #these people don't know what they're doing and they're cocky #people say where i'm at is a great oppourtunity but they've jerked me around too much to care and i dont even want it

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst #angst with a happy ending