#other than that art is pp

[bootsieboots]

just thought theyd be neat 🙂

and they are. thank u @zeddyzi 4 turning ur characterz in2 marketable plushie designz. now i have a second derpy-ass sculpture. (may or may not b starting a collection ^_~)

more anglez under the cut. i promise he lookz less derpy irl

nil my beloved <3 <3 <3 /pla

herez the reference photo also

btw. rb if u like please. it helps shitty small artists like me get on more ppls dash

#monke.maks #art #my art #sculpture #art shit #ramble incoming. so i already have reference drawingz 4 a vinnie and stone sculpture #(if any1 wants 2 make/find anything 4 skipp/dimitri. that. would v much b appreciated) #considering customizing my american girl doll 2 make it look like skipp also #no promisez tho. if it happenz it happenz ig #PP #pine point #fanart #uhh what other barely coherent bullshit™️ do i put in the tagz #my autistimic handz say 'i wanna mak more zeddyzi fanart than there is actual zeddy art /hyp' #and my executive dysfunctionic brain sayz 'ha. haha. hahaha. u wish m8' #of course my first sculpture waz the tbh and my second 1 waz. this XD #2023

[aviisick13]

#art #digital art #i hope you have a good day today #ibispaintx #i just call him mister tho lmao #mister! #hes the guy i dream about lmao #pp: sd #palliative party: strange dependency #sovanna #i draw him so much #im sorry for the other peeps who followed me for fandom stuff #i usually do things like this #i drew this to just comfort myself #i like to hide in the tags thank you very much #i like this dream #they were v friendly #i drew sovannas head way smaller than usual #whoops

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A pyramid of crystalline snow topped with deep orange syrup on a bright blue plate. End ID]

بقسمة / Buqsuma (Palestinian snow dessert)

بُقْسُمَة ("buqsuma"), or بوظة الشتاء ("būẓa shitā'", "winter ice cream"), is a dessert, possibly of Aramaic origin, eaten in cold and mountainous rural regions within Palestine, Syria, Jordan, Lebanon, and Turkey. It consists of freshly fallen snow topped with grape molasses (دبس العنب; "dibs al-'inab"), date molasses, pomegranate molasses, or storebought snow syrup (شراب الثلج ; "shrāb aṯ-ṯalj"). In Lebanon it may be topped with honey or orange syrup; and in Syria and Lebanon it may also be called سويق or سويقة ("sawīq" or "sawīqa").

Buqsuma is eaten for only a few days a year at the end of the snowy season in February. An old rhyme cautions against eating snow too early in the season:

أول تلجة دم تانية تلجة سم تالتة تلجة كل ولا تهتم

("ʔawwal tallaja damm "tānya tallaja samm "tālta tallaja kul wa lā tahtamm")

("The first snowfall is blood "The second snowfall is poison "The third snowfall, eat and don't worry")

Journalist Hussein Saqr speculates that the intention may be to allow the first snows to clear the air from summer and fall dust and other pollutants before the snow is safe to consume.

During these late winter days, eating and sharing buqsuma becomes a social ritual; guests are invited to share the dessert from a wide platter, or given individual bowls to dress to their taste with syrup, milk, and sugar. Children bring bowls of snow inside and eat buqsuma by the fire to warm up and recuperate from a day at play.

In Syria, buqsuma is prepared especially in the مُحافظة السويداء ("Muḥāfaẓat as-Suwaydā'"; Suwayda Governorate) in the south; in the طرْطوس ("Ṭarṭūs") and إدلب ("'Idlib") Governorates in the northeast; and along the جبال لبنان الشرقية ("Jibāl Lubnān ash-Sharqiyya"; Anti-Lebanon mountain range) from جبل الشيخ ("Jabal ash-Shaykh"; Mountain of the Sheikh / "Mount Hebron") to the جبال القلمون ("Jibāl al-Qalamūn"; Qalamoun Mountains) in Damascus Governorate.

In Palestine

Within Palestine, buqsuma is eaten only in الخليل ("Al-Khalīl" / "Hebron"), in the occupied West Bank. Palestinian food writer Reem Kassis points out that the regional specificity of the dish is due to the nature of the land: Al-Khalil is one of the few places in Palestine to receive snow.

Al-Khalil is also famous for its viticulture. "It is well known among Palestinians that Al-Khalil grows the best grapes," according to embroidery artist Wafa Ghnaim. Though grape vines have existed in Palestine since antiquity, Al-Khalil was one of the few locales to maintain them even during the Crusades, which caused the abandonment of olive and grape orchards elsewhere. As with oranges and pomegranates, an association between terroir, agriculture, and design reveals itself in Palestinian art: the قطف عنيب ("qiṭf 'inab"; "bunch of grapes") motif is common in Al-Khalil embroidery (تطريز; "taṭrīz"; often transliterated "tatreez").

Around 1700, Rabbi Gedalia mentions Al-Khalil's grapes as being particularly praiseworthy:

ויש בא"י הרבה פירות האילן, כגון ענבים, תאנים, ורמונים, זתים […]. והענבים הם גדולים ועגולים בירושלים. אבל בחברון תוב"ב הם מרובים וגדולים מן הענבים אשר בירושלים. וכשמוכרים את הענבים של חברון בירושלים משבחים אותם וצועקים: בואו ותקנו הענבים של חברון ! ומענב אחד מתמלא הפה ממשקה. And there are in the land of Israel many tree fruits, such as grapes, figs, pomegranates, and olives [...]. The grapes are big and round in Jerusalem, but in Hebron they are more numerous and larger than the grapes in Jerusalem. And when vendors sell the grapes of Hebron in Jerusalem, they praise them and shout: Come and buy the grapes of Hebron! And one grape fills the mouth with nectar. (pp. 337-8)

Al-Khalil's viticulture is closely integrated with Palestinian food culture. Three distinct harvests yield different products. In the early spring, some of the leaves from the grape vines (وَرَق الدوالي; "waraq ad-dūwāli") will be harvested, when they are young, tender, and sour: good for stuffing with rice, meat, and vegetable fillings to make several popular Palestinian dishes.

Later in the spring, grape farmers harvest early, sour grapes (حصرم; "ḥiṣrim"; Levantine dialect "ḥuṣrum"). Some of these will be pressed to make عصير حصرم ("'aṣīr ḥuṣrum"; "juice of sour grapes"), a tart liquid that may be drunk plain, or used to give acidity to soups or salads. Others will be pickled in brine, or dried and ground to make a sour condiment called "سماق الحصرم" ("sumāq al-ḥuṣrum," "sour grape sumac").

The third harvest is in the late summer, when the grapes have fully ripened. Grape farmers in Al-Khalil may sell some of their summer harvests to Palestinian wineries and arak distilleries. Other ripe grapes will be pressed and their juice boiled down and dried to produce مَلبَن ("malban"), a Levantine fruit leather. And still more of this juice will be reduced into dibs al-'inab, which is then used to make buqsuma, added to tea as a sweetener, or mixed into tahina and scooped up with bread; it is especially popular during Ramadan as a quick way to boost energy.

Dibs al-'inab has been produced in Palestine for hundreds of years. Rabbi Gedalia describes grape molasses, which he calls "grape honey" ("דבש של ענבים"; "dvash shel 'anavim"):

שמבשלים את התירוש היוצא מן הענבים מיד כשסוחטין אותן, והוא אז מתוק מאוד כדבש ממש, וכ"כ מבשלים עד שנעשה עב כמו דבש. They cook the must which is expressed from the grapes immediately after they are squeezed. It is then very sweet, like real [bee's] honey. Then they cook it again until it becomes thick as honey. (p. 338)

The recipe below is for buqsuma with Al-Khalil-style grape molasses.

[ID: An extreme close-up on snow crystals topped with syrup in bright white and various shades of orange; bubbles are trapped throughout the syrup. End ID]

Viticulture Under Occupation

Today, the tending and harvesting of grapes in Al-Khalil take place under the shadow of Israeli settlements. Israel encourages the transfer of settler populations to settlements in Al-Khalil—including particularly fervent Israeli nationalist cells in the middle of Palestinian areas—with financial incentives and the creation of infrastructure that only settlers can move through freely. Palestinians are forbidden to drive in the "H2" area of Al-Khalil, which encompasses the central Old City and the الحرم الإبراهيمي ("Al-Ḥaram al-Ibrāhīmī"; Sanctuary of Abraham), and has been under Israeli military control since 1997. Israel conducts regular raids in the nominally Palestinian "H1" area, forcing people to leave their homes, destroying property, and committing arbitrary arrests and imprisonments.

The rapid expansion of settlements in the areas around Al-Khalil, such as those in what Israel calls גּוּשׁ עֶצְיוֹן (“Gush Etzion”; Etzion Bloc) and גִּבְעַת חַרְסִינָה ("Givat Harsina"), pushes Palestinians into ever-smaller and denser areas surrounded by settlements, rendering them still more vulnerable to Israeli control.

Alessandro Petti describes the strategy by which Israel fragments and isolates Palestinian areas, while allowing flow of movement between territories for non-Palestinians, as a distinction between free-flowing settler "archipelagoes" and Palestinian "enclaves." Infrastructure such as patrols, roadblocks, barriers, curfews, strip-searches and thorough searches of luggage—to which only Palestinians are subjected—make travel a time-consuming, nerve-wracking, and uncertain process: one that may end with being denied a permit, turned back from a border, or jailed for driving on a road which turns out to be prohibited to Palestinians. Because the rules are constantly changing, Palestinians may continue to avoid a road that is no longer actively barricaded out of fear that attempting to traverse it will lead to arrest.

Official Israeli military policy and settler violence alike cast a pall on Palestinian agricultural tradition and innovation. Farming and shepherding communities in the southern hills of Al-Khalil have been subjected to harassment, home demolition, and forced displacement at the hands of settlers and military bulldozers. Settlers burn grape and olive orchards and cut down mature grape vines. Palestinians are no longer allowed to access ancestral agricultural land that has been overtaken by colonists. Israeli military orders and settler harassment emptied Al Khalil's Old Souq of its vegetable and fruit markets in 2000; in 2019, plans were made to raze Palestinian shops and build a new settlement atop them. These plans would move forward in July of 2023.

Reprisal and collective punishment in the wake of militants' October 7th attacks on settlers have been felt in the West Bank and also impact agriculture in Al-Khalil. Grapes rot on the vine with farmers forbidden to tend them. Streets have been closed, shutting Palestinian farmers into their homes, while Palestinian shepherds in villages in the Al-Khalil area have been displaced and harassed with drones. Settler attacks and destruction of crops, already on a continual uptick for the previous several years, increased to a new high in 2023.

Olives, Grapes, and Resistance

Agriculture has been an important site of Palestinian resistance to settler incursion as, despite harassment, surveillence, and violence, Palestinians insist on staying on their land and in their homes. The Palestinian minority who inhabit the H2 area of Hebron, continuing to tend their olive trees, prevent the area from becoming settler-only and keep alive the hope that Al-Khalil will not become a "ghost town."

Various projects based in Al-Khalil combat settler technologies and strategies. Farmers in Al-Khalil launched the Cooperative Society for Agricultural Marketing and Processing in 1984 to increase grape farmers' self-sufficiency, reduce produce waste, and contribute to the production of Palestinian grape delicacies. The 2022 Counter Surveillance project, launched by Palestinian activist Issa Amro and artist Adam Broomberg, meets the Israeli security cameras stationed among Al-Khalil's olive groves with its own video feed, livestreamed online and to art museums.

Palestine's annual grape festival at حلحول ("Ḥalḥūl"), just north of Al-Khalil, took place in 2023 as scheduled; farmers displayed boxes of grapes of all colors and varieties, and sold dibs, malban, raisins, and jam. And Palestinian farmers and activists contribute to resurgences of indigenous seed varieties—such as the دابوقي ("dābūqi") grape, historically particularly prominent in Al-Khalil—in an effort to preserve Palestine's biodiversity and economic self-sufficiency.

Buy seeds from the Palestinian Heirloom Seed Library

Help Palestinian families evacuate Gaza

Contribute to an eSIM donation drive

Ingredients:

For the syrup (makes 2/3 cup):

2.5kg (5.5lb) tart green grapes, stems removed

For the base:

A large bowl of fresh snow

If it doesn't snow where you live, you can try making shaved ice using a snowcone machine; putting water in an ice-cream maker until you achieve a slushy texture; or running ice cubes through a blender.

Instructions:

For the syrup:

1. Remove grapes from their stems and rinse.

2. In a large bowl, mash and muddle grapes with your hands or a potato or bean masher; or pass grapes through a blender, food mill, or juicer.

3. Strain mashed grapes through a metal strainer, and then a cheesecloth (if you used a juicer, skip right to the cheesecloth). I had 4 cups (1 litre) of grape juice at this point.

4. Pour grape juice into a thick-bottomed pot with a large diameter, preferably one with a light-colored bottom. Heat on medium to bring to a boil.

5. Continue simmering juice, skimming scum off the surface as it arises. Occasionally wipe down the edges of the pot with a wet pastry brush to prevent sugar from sticking and burning.

6. Eventually scum will stop rising. Continue to simmer until several shades darker in color and bubbling vigorously. Syrup should still pour freely, and just barely coat the back of a spoon. I had just over 2/3 cup (160 mL) at this point.

7. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly before pouring into a jar. Allow to cool to room temperature before refrigerating. If you want to keep the syrup for multiple months or at room temperature, use a sterilized jar.

Compost the grape peels, or reserve to make fruit scrap vinegar.

For the dish:

1. Set a large bowl out several hours into a heavy snowfall; or collect just the top layer of freshly fallen snow after it has been snowing for several hours. Snow that falls earlier in a snowfall, or that has been sitting out for a longer period of time, is more likely to contain pollutants.

2. Compact the snow with a spoon to make the texture homogenous. Some people run it through a blender. Fill individual serving bowls with snow.

3. Pour cooled molasses to taste onto the snow and mix.

#Palestinian #Levantine #Al-Khalil #grapes #grape molasses #dibs

[insuke69]

What's in a name? P2

Part I

2/3

☆ Hobie brown × Rich!Osborn!reader

★ Synopsis: Osborn is almost a disgusting name because of the messed up things it has and the dirty money that holds it up by threads. And here is the child that sneaks out one night and meets a punk that goes directly against her father.

✩ Warnings: cussing, Some more angst, 'crybaby’ reader, misunderstanding, SMUT

★ smut: P in V, unprotected, pull-out-method, oral (F!receiving), pierced pp.

Rating—M

✩ 7,1k words

______

If one word could describe how the next few days of your life was, It’d be bittersweet.

Bittersweet Because of how sweet Spiderpunk was to you. Or rather, how sweet he was to who he thought was Emily.

So sweet while you couldn’t describe how you felt with him, with your own behavior more open and carefree with that dark mask you bare almost every night when you sneak out and ‘accidentally’ run into him. It makes you grin like an idiot when he stands close or when you see him webbing over to you as you chill around the bench.

That bench where you two met, where you always helplessly cried as a little girl now being a place you look forward to going every day. The second the sun sets you tell Roxy you’re going out and you stay out until any hour of the night with not even Roxy knowing about the special punk that makes your heart pound and your body ease with some kind of feeling that makes you want to be close to him physically and emotionally.

Something about how exhilarating and free you felt around him, his arm around you while you held onto him. You two often webbed some nights, to buildings you know inside out since you helped your dad design some, or some simple spray painting in canals, and if you were lucky: You two would end up on some rooftop talking while looking into the night sky with few stars because of light pollution.

One night you’re bent beside your bed with the collection of pictures with you and Spiderpunk, you’re wondering if you should show him who you are: But that's the bitter part.

Spiderpunk loves and is close to the masked street artist he simply knows by her fake name, Emily.

Bitter because he doesn’t care for the actual woman below the mask, yet he enjoys the mask and the personality below. Spiderpunk seems to despise y/n Osborn. He doesn’t make his rebellious habits too known since he didn’t do that for attention and was always his own unfiltered and blunt self. How the hell will you two ever know each other when he wears his mask for anonymity and you wear yours to not end up getting stabbed at every turn.

“I just.. I feel like she's always trying to act as if she’s so much better than her dad, when she doesn’t even leave her house to avoid the people who see her as she is.” you remember Spiderpunk shrugging since the topic had moved to ‘you’.

“Yeah? What a hot take.” You comment sarcastically with a chuckle. You couldn’t defend yourself/who is the true woman behind the mask since he would likely be offended that you would defend the daughter of such a monster.

Your small memory moment cuts short as you hear your door knock in the way you know exactly who is the one behind the door and quickly shove the shoebox full of pictures of Spiderpunk and you with the art you’ve been putting up on most osborn buildings under your bed and sit on the edge of it while the door opens and Roxy walks in.

“Hey, remember to get ready for the event.” She said as she looks away from you and goes straight to your closet. “This is important to your father, he needs his daughter there and he needs you to behave for it.” Roxy continued as she began picking out an outfit for you.

This was a christmas event where your dad made a whole thing just to show off he donated some money to a cause about homeless and unfed people around in Brazil, meanwhile he hates the needy people down in the city less than a ten minute drive away–and actively keeping them ignored.

“What's the.. Uhm..” You begin before pausing to think of the word,

“Schedule? It's from five to twelve.” Roxy chimed.

“What? Dude! I won’t be able to go out w-” You cut yourself off before rewording your words, “I don’t want to go.” you say as you lean back on your hands before adding with a scoff. “It’s a waste of time and we both know I just have to smile for a camera and look pretty like some display model.”

Roxy didn’t know about Spiderpunk, nobody did. You couldn’t let her know about Spiderpunk, it's one thing to sneak out and arrive home late with spray paint stains and smelling like an unfamiliar cologne and musky scent faintly drafting through the air you walk through–mostly because you have to hold onto Spiderpunk as you two swing through the musty camden air.

“Yes, but you also have to understand how important this is to your father, and I’ve been trying my very best to make sure your Mr. Osborn h-”

“My dad, Norman, I couldn’t care less.” you interrupt with a slight grimace, “You don’t have to ‘Mr. Osborn’ him to me.”

Roxy nods and clears her throat, “Norman,” She corrected, “In shorter words, I’ve trying so damn hard to make sure he doesn’t find anything out about whatever the hell you do when you go out, The least you can do is listen to me and miss what you do just this once.”

Her tone is a bit exasperated while still calm as if it were nothing while she rummaged through your closet and took out a sparkly low cut red dress with black edges along with lace over where cleavage would’ve been visible, along with black stilettos. She places the dress and pair of shoes onto your bed beside where you sat and moved over to your vanity for the jewelry to wear with everything, settling on a pearl necklace and a pair of white gold earrings and placing them in the middle of your vanity for you to put them on before makeup.

“I still don’t get why you have to pick out my outfits, still.” You murmur under your breath with snark as you look over what Roxy had set up for you.

“You are still dependent.” She answered bluntly while grabbing tights for you, fishnets to have below the skirt of the dress.

Still dependent.

You go quiet for a moment. So even Roxy thinks you’re a daddy's girl who can’t think for herself. She’s always picked your outfits for you for events, it always pissed you off how she never wanted to teach you about what colors clash or what is too tacky. How are you supposed to know if nobody has taught you anything?

“Your hair will be half up-half down.” Roxy adds as she gestures to what she had set up for you.

At least you had your own abilities to do your own damn hair, how generous. And with that, Roxy had walked out of your room to leave you get changed and ready for the event.

You roll your eyes and start getting changed, you look at yourself in the mirror and take a breath before testing your fake smile while looking at yourself, partially not really recognizing the reflection behind it.

Some dolled up girl wearing things that cost more than most people can wish for, your money that you don’t earn, you can't earn anything. You’re like some little girl who has to rely on the people who refuse to even teach you anything. Your face just feels as if you’re being forced to enjoy and display everything that holds blood and dirt, almost muddily dragged on your skin and collar bone.

You huff and rip your gaze from the mirror and move back to your bed to take out the balaclava and gloves hastily and shove the shoebox back under your bed and hidden away then moving over to your closet and grabbing a black and white purse–shoving in the gloves and mask before spraying on your usual perfume and leaving your room to start being on your way to the event.

_____

In summary:

The event is shit, the event has loud music, loud overwhelming music, the whole time you have to be stood with a smile that barely reaches your eyes and having to awkwardly hug or shake hands with the most random strangers you have to interact with.

There's good food and catering–but you for whatever reason was told to stay by the big decorative tree and some security guards around you since it's the usual thing at events, your father isn’t really loved by all so it's for your safety to have some random big dude hovering your every move and interaction.

“Hey, what time is it?” You ask the taller man who wore dark sunglasses and a serious look on his face that barely glance at you, almost protecting you like you were some safe that has to be observed because of secrets and riches it held.

“It’s..” He changed his statue-like position and checked his watch, “Seven o’four.” He answered while moving back to his earlier position and staring dead ahead as if you were medusa, he was still and cold as stone anyway.

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest at the time. Five more hours of standing beside some man who doesn’t care to at all speak or interact with ‘the goods’ or the product he's protecting? No. You glance around and see some double doors that are labeled with two signs which indicate a woman's bathroom and the dude bathroom with a smaller sign with some writing that you can’t read all that well.

You take a step to walk in that direction before feeling a hand on your shoulder like a chain around your ankle holding you back.

Oh right, the statue-bodyguard

“Where do you th-” The guy began before you shake his hand off of your shoulder and keep walking in that direction.

“Bathroom! Little lady Osborn has to go to the ladies room.” You say sarcastically while walking over to the doors you saw, the bodyguard letting you go after saying something about not wasting time and five minutes–you tuned him out because you already felt so free without him hovering.

You walk towards the doors and read small instructions that pretty much tell you/the one reading that where the bathrooms are.

Turn left to the second hall and third door to the right, follow the hall where the restroom signs are.

-Oscorp

You push the door and walk through to see some big hall where there are other rooms, an untouched area of the venue that seemed to be rooms to take care of kids, like some daycare or classrooms. The hall has a barely yellowish tint and has a hall that goes to the bathrooms. You explore a bit more to find an exit with a bright green sign to indicate exactly what it is.

You grin and clutch your purse as you head to the emergency exit and push it open–the cold air of the night hitting you immediately and you curse at yourself for leaving your sweater to the guard.

You take a deep breath and let the cool air flood your lungs before taking a few steps away from the building to find what part of the city you’re in and start walking more while taking out your balaclava and gloves then putting them on.

You zone out while taking the refreshing walk away from the loud party your dad- well, ‘oscorp’ has thrown, a wasteful event full of music and food to distract people from the ruined lives caused by this large and overrated company.

You then hear a familiar THWAP appear from behind you.

Oh god.

Not now-

Your mask is over your face along with your gloves but that doesn’t hide your expensive jewelry or dress, or heels or anything of the sort that shows you aren’t the lower middle class woman Spiderpunk should think you are.

“Emi’?”

A voice you always want to hear, whether it's asking or telling you something, whether it's called out or whispered in your ear, you love whenever his deep cockney words are directed at you. The nickname he gave you since he often joked about Emily being too much of a hassle to pronounce.

But right now it feels horrifying, heart full of dread at the possibility of him figuring out you aren’t who you’ve been saying you are- hell- your name isn’t even Emily, you just named yourself after your dead mother.

“Emily.” Spiderpunk said more firmly once he recognised that mask, the same mask he sees most nights–and to little of your knowledge..

Really want to see what's below it.

Really wants to see the face of the woman he's growing to love.

You swallow your pride and turn to face him as if you were a kid whose hand was caught in the cookie jar.

The lenses to spiderpunks masks widen a little as if to represent a bit of surprise once he sees the figure below what he usually sees, a worn out hoodie or random tee and some jeans. But now he's seeing a curvaceous colored figure in a dress that's glamorized with jewelry made of pearls and white gold, shining in the streetlight and faded moonlight.

You expect his expression shift of disgust or something at how you’re dressed, rich girl, looking like a classy brat whether there's a mask and gloves to seal something that's already leaking through your image. You’re ready to blink away tears at the feeling of your sinking heart, hands tensing and feeling like you’re holding the world's problems along with your own chained to your palms.

But to your surprise, he starts to shrug off his iconic leather jacket, before you can get a word in he passes it to you and puts it over your shoulders. “Its cold as hell tonigh’, what the hell are you wearing out here.” He says playfully with a chuckle as he looked over at you so the rhetorical question sinks in.

How the hell are you supposed to answer that?

“Uhhhhhhh..” You try to register the warm jacket now over you that had that lingering punk scent that a part of you wanted to steal genuine sniffs but you knew you couldn’t really other than subtle inhales, that scent so comforting for no reason beside the one who radiates it.

“I was at an.. ‘Important’ event but snuck out like usual.” You summarize as you adjust the jacket so you can put on the sleeves and snuggle into its warmth and scent.

His warmth and scent.

“So d’you wan’ to do the usual bullshi’ on rooftops or do you wan’ to jus’ want to fuck around Osborns buildings some more?” He asks with a grin in his voice as he lazily puts his long lanky arm around your waist like he did every night ‘platonically’, ready to tighten his hold the second you say yes for you two to swing wherever.

You smile and nod “Yeah no, I’m fine with whatever as long as it’s with you.” to which he happily shoots a web and you both begin swinging through the well lit streets of Camden, at least the part of town you both were in. The cold air soon felt a bit heavier, indicating the part of town less taken care of and more polluted. You two glide over several streets but Spiderpunk lowers and slows down around an alleyway, a familiar alleyway..

The Alleyway that started it all.

You could see the same gas station a bit down the street, bright and open. The same station where you had bought food for..

“Squaishy!” Spiderpunk greeted that same person as he let go of your waist and left you to come closer on your own accord instead of dragging you into the space, not knowing at all what has happened here for you. Little did Spiderpunk know that ‘Squaishy’ was the one who caused your tears that night. Squaishy seemed to be doing better but still with the worn out jacket but they were happy and glad to see Spiderpunk as they greeted each other with a handshake and small hug, A smile in Spiderpunk’s lenses. But Squaishy’s eyes darken as he looks over at you and recognizes your mask.

But Spiderpunk follows his gaze, not realizing the tension. “Squiashy! This is my friend, Emily.” he introduced as he put his hands on your shoulders and almost pushing you into the conversation.

A knowing amused smirk falls onto Squaishy’s lips as they raise their eyebrows, “Emily?” He echoed.

Fuck.

“I have to go.” You say abruptly before Squaishy can have a quip or comment about your name..

Or mentions that it isn’t your actual name.

Words couldn’t explain how Spider-punk looked as his head whipped to look in your direction as if you said something so appalling that it insulted his whole bloodline, “Wha’?” He asked as the lenses of his mask widened, looking almost like round ovals–but the important thing is that you suddenly feel his eyes burning into yours, as if he was shifting his attention onto you to not leave so soon. Squiashy’s smug expression shifts slightly when he notices how Spiderpunk when from seeming happy and in a good mood, to worried and uncertain.

“I was out on a walk.. You know, from where I escaped-slash-snuck out from, and I don’t want them noticing I’m gone or anything since I’m an ‘important factor’.” you say awkwardly, trying your best to say everything but nothing at the same time.

Hobie isn’t stupid though, he can always tell when there’s more to the story, especially now since your excuses are getting more vague and sloppy.

“I can take you back?” He offers, either wanting to spend more time with you or curious as to what you do or who you actually are. These half truths are starting to make Hobie more curious of the woman behind the balaclava every night. At his offer, trying to know more about you, not knowing that you aren’t the Emily you’re displaying yourself to be.

Emily is bold, playful, sarcastic, sweet, thoughtful and fun. She's the woman spiderpunk wants to hold close at night and would do anything to see her eyes below the mask smile.

But he didn't know the person who you have to keep hidden from him like how you keep ‘Emily’ from your father.

Y/n is quiet, keeps to herself, diffident, rich and spoiled. The woman who spiderpunk feels indifferent about beyond disdain and a grimace when he hears her, or the Osborn name in general.

“No, no. or.. Can you take me where you found me?” You request awkwardly with a small smile, hoping he’ll say yes, half knowing he will but won’t stop asking things. He’s as curious as a cat.. An adorable, tall, lanky punk-cat.

He nods and says a quick bye handshake with Squaishy and turns back to you, putting his arm around your waist firmly and holding your body against his then shoots a web, soon launching into the air and swinging, your arms and around his neck. Palpable tension beyond your face in the crook of his neck to shield your face from the cold air hitting you both. Tension now because of what even started this relationship..

His unanswered questions, and your half answers.

Once you arrive where Spiderpunk found you, when he sets you down he keeps a hand on your shoulder as if to keep you from leaving/running off. “So, would you mind telling me at least wha’ even’ you’re talking ‘bout?” He prompted as he looked into your visible eyes through the balaclava. It felt like he was looking into your soul, making your mouth go dry.

“..I mind? I’m- I’m sorry but I really do have to g-”

“Don’ start with that!” He cut you off with a scoff as he moves his hand off of your shoulder, letting you be able to go if you really wanted to, “You always have to end up disappearing, I understand your need to have your identity secre’, but at this point it's like you don’ trust me.”

He isn’t wrong but he isn’t right either. You do trust him, there's so much you know you have freedom of doubt in him but.. It's the one thing you can’t tell him about, the one thing that you can’t control and that you doubt he’d understand. The filthy name that comes after your first.

Osborn.

Tears make a glossy layer on your eyes, You’re stuck. On one hand, if you tell the truth, he won’t ever see you the same. On the other hand, If you still avoid it, you may slip up and he’ll find out the hard way.

“Not- not yet.” You whisper, “I’ll tell everything you want to hear, but I just can’t right now.” you murmur as you took off his jacket he lent you and passed it back to him before taking some steps back, as much as you didn’t want this argument to end on this sour note, you couldn’t risk anything going wrong with your father.

Spiderpunk watched with furrowed eyebrows under his mask as you went away, disappearing as you turned a corner. He cursed at himself under his breath as he put the leather jacket back on, a faint lingering fragrance of your perfume, conflicted thoughts and emotions circling his mind like a toy train. On one hand, he knows your boundaries and wants you to be comfortable and able to cry on his shoulder, on the other hand: He won’t let himself be manipulated and lied to, whether he's infatuated or not.

He shook his head and clasped his hands over his face.

“This is a breach of her privacy. This is a breach of her privacy, this is a breach of her-” He repeats in his mind as he shoots a web and runs up a building to arrive at its rooftop. He takes off his mask and stands by the edge as he looks out at the street you went down, his mind screaming at him and his heart telling him it's a bad idea.

“She won’t like that you followed her. She won’t trust you, you can just wait..” “But wait how long? What is so bad that she has to keep it from me? How long can she play me as the fuckin’ fool..” His mind debating against himself, but still looking out for you.

He spots you and jumps over buildings while running, his eyes on you to see where you’re going. What you’re doing. Why you are in such a hurry. Watching as you approach the venue, going towards the door you went out from. Osborn’s charity event.

It was dark but he saw your figure, the way your hands moved to first take off your gloves and shove them into your bag but something fell without you noticing, then your mask. It’s like Hobie was watching it in slow motion, your hands raising to the end of your mask and starting to raise it.

In a flash of awareness, he turned around completely before he saw your face. This wasn’t how he wanted it to happen, this isn't how he wanted to see the woman hidden behind that fabric, but the need to know was almost hurting his mind, but he remembered you dropped something so he put on his mask then jumped and webbed closer to where you were and strained his eyes looking at the ground to see what you dropped.

A gold bracelet with the names “Anne-Marie, Emily, Y/n.”

Spiderpunk read the names and recognized Emily of course, so it was clearly yours, he thought. But he also recognized the name of the offspring of the man he despised. He webbed back up to the building he was on earlier and took off his mask to inspect the bracelet a bit more.

Hobies gaze softened as he gently held the delicate gold bracelet in his hand, for as small and thin it was, it was heavy. It really was gold. Hobie didn’t know what to think. Who are you?

The Event ended eventually and he just watched everyone leave, blankly staring at Osborn and his daughter-

His daughter wearing the same thing you were. The same purse hung on your arm.

Hobie felt his heart almost drop.. The woman he wanted to keep safe and protect was the daughter of the man he wanted to protect everyone around them from. He clenched the bracelet in his hand so hard that he bent the gold ever so slightly with his mutated strength. He wanted to laugh at how badly you didn’t want him to figure anything out yet, scream into the sky until it shattered because of the betrayal, the anger, the hatred brewing, the hatred for the Osborn’s moving to ‘Emily’, a girl who he thought was someone humble, who he wanted to have by his side, in his arms, and in his bed. It hurt. The avoidant truths. The way that he couldn’t think straight anymore as his mind and hands were tense.

The car drove off from the venue where the Osborn’s were going home. Hobie was going to confront “Emily”, He couldn’t recognize them anymore. As if he was going to confront a stranger he used to know. He followed the car from afar until it parked, he waited by the forest beside your house, he was about to climb a random tree to get a better view without being seen, but his hand was met with some rough fabric, his first reaction was to clench and pull it down.

He sees that in his hand, is her backpack. The one he looked through naively having little to no idea that she wouldn’t have to be a drug dealer when she can easily buy whatever she wants whenever she wants.

A bedroom window lights up and it catches his attention, he thwips a web to the outside wall and quietly walks on the wall and peeks into the window to see you kneeling down beside your bed in front of a shoebox.

“How was the event, Emi’?” Spiderpunk asked sarcastically as he let himself in through the window, you flinched and eyes shot immediately towards him with your usually smiley and once gorgeous to him eyes as wide as glass dinner plates.

“What- what do.. Shit- I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you bu-” You began as you stood and began walking closer before he cut you off with his voice raised and clear distaste as he spoke to you. You’ve never heard genuine venom in his tone, he always spoke happily with the lenses of his mask beaming.. That was gone, all gone from his hateful gaze.

“Tell me what? That you’re part of a corporation thats forcing Millions of people in poverty? That you-”

“That I have nothing to do with!” You snap, years of verbal abuse from people who have always assumed the worst from you, and now it was even worse since he supposedly knew you internally. “Aren’t you someone who fights against stereotypes? Who fights against things that are unfair?”

“Don’ you dare. Thats differen’, you were actively Lying- Hiding the damn truth from me, Hearing me say all these things about Osborn- Your dad- Ugh.” He groaned while clasping his hand over his face, trying not to yell since he knew about your sensitivity towards being yelled at. “I have been nothing but caring towards you and it feels like you’ve stabbed me in the back.” he summarized, slowly taking off his mask to show his seriousness.. And to show that he still seems to trust you.

He felt betrayed, lied to, his trust was broken–yet.. He would tell you his plans, he would tell you which ones of Osborns buildings he was going to vandalize and on what days he planned to do it, but he’s never been caught.

He’s never been caught, you’ve never snitched.

You were there most of the time, you’ve had every chance to get him in trouble and caught, that means something.

Your expression softens, now wasn’t the time but he was handsome.. Stunning. His eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed while pinching the bridge of his nose, the scowl showed that he genuinely felt conflicted and you had to know the actual reason why. It almost hurts that you are being the cause of his frown instead of the reason of his smile.

You shake off the pained thoughts and continue as you step closer so he could look at you, “Can’t you see why I never told you? Look at how you’re reacting. You know me, or you at least know ‘Emily’, so what makes (y/n) any different?” you ask with a gesture of your hand, “I’m still the same girl who would spray paint with you, who’d come with you to put up art over my father’s buildings, the same girl you laughed with and the girl you held as she cried.” You tell him as your voice trembles with tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, vision already blurred from them pooling in your eyes, looking away before he could see the effect all of this is taking on you.

He's silent for a second, he wants to yell, he wants to talk, he wants to sob, he doesn’t know exactly what to do for a moment so he swallows his pride and interrupts you right before you were about to break the silence yourself.

“Because I loved you!” He spat as if he never wanted to admit it himself, “I loved the girl who’d spray paint with me,” Hobie takes a step closer to you this, “I loved the girl whose art I’d put up on Osborn’s buildings, and I loved..” He trailed off for a moment as he put his hand on your chin to force you to look at him gently, “..The same girl who laughed with me and who I held as she cried.”

Loved.

“Loved”..

“So what? Not anymore? Because of an ‘asshole’ who happens to be my father?” You ask as you pull back from his touch, upset at the fact that Hobie was blaming you for your dad’s actions, “it’s fucking unfair.” You added under your breath as the crybaby in you was coming back stronger for ever, now the frustration from that night and every hateful interaction you’ve had coming back full force.

“I.. don’t know.” He answered honestly with an empty chuckle as if his own internal turmoil was funny as he looked into your watering eyes, knowing full well he was causing them, and that knowledge felt like a drill to his heart.

The water in your eyes thickens as you feel like he’s slipping from your hands, the one person who saw you as a person at one point now seeing you like a monster like everyone else did, always compared to your dad by everyone else, it wasn’t new.. But this just hurt so much more. So much more.

And Hobie’s heart is torn, this wasn’t how he wanted to find anything out, this isn’t how anything was supposed to go, he never wanted to make you cry. He closes his eyes and takes a small breath once your face scrunches up while choking back a sob, remembering how affected you probably are in this moment, recognizing your own heartbreak as he thought of your words.

Unfair.

It was unfair what your father was doing, unfair how many innocent people like Squaishy now sleep in cold tents in abandoned areas just to not be killed due to the cold or by other not as nice vagabonds. Nothing was fair in this moment, no stars were aligned, no god that smiled upon them, no luck in a single charm..

At this point you were on the verge of fully breaking down at this, everything just went downhill in a matter of moments. But the second you let out a choke sob, Hobie knew what to do. You suddenly felt his hand on your jaw and he pulled you into a kiss, a passionate yet soft one. His plump lips and warm piercing against your surprised ones, you fully thought everything was over and here he was: Spiderpunk/Hobie brown, kissing you with his neck craned to accommodate your height and his other hand moving to your waist to hold your body flushed against his.

He was beginning to regret having kissed you at all since you weren’t reciprocating but those thoughts were wiped once he felt your hand move to the side of his neck and an eager response from your mouth. This felt right. Whether you were some masked street artist, The daughter of a sadistic sociopath, or simply (y/n) Osborn, and if Spiderpunk was some masked Vigilante, a punk squatter, or simply Hobie Brown, this was right.

Hobie was clearly more experienced with his kissing skills, considering the fact he probably had more than quadruple the social life you did: He at least probably had much more than double the sex life too. And it doesn’t take long for the repressed emotions, repressed love and the electric tension when you two swung through the city catches up to you two. Hobie’s tongue mixing into the kiss tentatively and his hand that was on your jaw snaking into your hair and keeping you close in an intimate yet not-forced way.

This feeling was intoxicating, finally having him close and his lips slotted in yours, fitting together like some kind of perfect pieces from different puzzles. Hobie advanced ever so slightly which made you take some steps back until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, he then gently pushed you back and climbed on top of you before pulling you into another deep kiss, but more greedy and ever so slightly wanton, and this change of pace made your heart begin to beat a bit more quickly with your lips hardly keeping up with his, his tongue dancing an expert tango and yours swayed a newbie ballet. He probably thought you had some kind of experience but you really didn’t, nobody dared get close to you emotionally and much less physically.

And its like alarms went off the second his hands lowered to your hips and thighs, close to the edge of the dress you had been wearing earlier at the stupid event earlier. You pulled out of the kiss and your hands almost slapped onto his in a haste to stop him, quickly muttering a quiet “Oh shit, sorry.” Under your breath as you rubbed his hands where your hand had landed on.

“You alrigh’?” He asked as his eyes looked into yours, ignoring your apology and focusing on why you had moved your hands to stop him so quickly, not wanting to move past your boundaries–he's not that kind of man, no matter how upset he was at you moments or however badly he wanted you in that moment. He was ready to put you first, you and your comfort first.[a]

“I.. I haven’t really done anything like this before.” You tell him bluntly yet a bit quietly as you averted your gaze in slight embarrassment, he was obviously a pro and an expert and here you were: Hardly able to know what to do with your tongue while making out with someone. This information clicked into Hobie’s mind and he nodded, “You don’ have to do anything you don’ wanna.” Hobie assured you as he gently put a hand to your cheek and made you look at him, his eyes boring into yours with raw concern and care.

“No no- it isn’t that I don’t want to..” Its that you don’t want to disappoint him or underwhelm him, but how the fuck do you tell him that after crying in front of him and literally disappointed him earlier when he learnt who you really were. “..I do want to, but.. I’m no model either.” You say half-jokingly to try to lighten the intense mood.

Hobie nodded again before leaning in and kissing you again, he didn’t really mind as long as you could express your limit, “Alrigh’, but if you need me t’stop, just say the word.” He reassured you while practically looking in your soul through your eyes.

He then leaned in and began kissing your neck, his hand moving to your waist while the other moved to your back and slowly began pulling down the zipper of your dress, the feeling of his touch and his lips on your neck like a kind of blue electricity that went all through you. The dress soon lowered to your waist, exposing your breasts that simply had nipple pads due to the dress having been one of cleavage, Hobie carefully peeled them off and set them aside onto your nightstand and began kissing down your collarbone with one hand already massaging your tit and pinching your nipple, his other hand working to lower the dress more. Over your abdomen, past your hips, down your thighs, and off your legs and body.

He carefully let his hands lower and gently hold the band of your fishnets and panties, but he paused as he awaited a yes or no from you, everything was going to be on your terms.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, breath slightly shaking and his hands were calloused yet soothing on your soft skin, but you wanted more and so you nodded in approval and soon enough–Your panties were gone too, your cunt fluttering once exposed to the cold air and Hobie’s hungry gaze. In a moment of self-consciousness your thighs press together, or at least you try to before Hobie stops you with his hands on your knees and easing them apart, not at all forcefully but just enough to show what he wanted.

“Do ya trus’ me?” He asked softly, the exact same way that spiderpunk did all those nights ago, his hand once that lingered too long on your hip now on your knees, showing yourself and your vulnerability.

“Never stopped trusting you.” You answered with a small approving nod.

And with that, Hobie began to pepper small kisses into the plushy flesh of your thighs and slowly inching closer to where you felt you needed him most. After what felt like hours, he finally reached the lips of your glistening pussy and his warm breath touching your puffy clit. He kissed it once before licking a stripe from your hole to your clit then latching his mouth suddenly to your bud, blissfully making out with your lips expertly like he was with your upper ones earlier.

“Oh.. shit..” You moan breathlessly with your hand knotting into his hair. His hand moves from holding you by the knee to keep your legs spread towards the hole of your pussy, easing in a finger that entered with not too much effort due to his spit and your wet arousal welcoming him. Yet your hips squirming due to the intrusion, making Hobie slow down his finger and focus on your cunt.

He slowly pumps a single finger in your pussy while licking his name letter by letter on your sensitive bundle of nerves.. H-O-B-I-E B-R-O-W-N. You quickly feel yourself get more sensitive and your hips squirm, unsure of how to react to this new sensation, his fingers reaching places you never could and much less stimulation at the same time in your hole as it is in your bundle of nerves.

You quickly come undone and your thighs almost press Hobie’s head between them, but his hand remains on your inner thigh to keep it open, lapping up your juices with his tongue flat on your cunt and his finger pumping in and out a little more before pulling it out of you and licking it clean. Something about this lewd display makes you clench around nothing, maybe it was the fact that he hardly took his eyes off of you once, studying your expression for any hesitance or regret.

He pulled up to show his raging hard-on, straining his jeans and creating a beautiful bulge. You watch as he fumbles with his belt and lowers his pants and boxers, his cock springing free and leaking beads of pre-cum, proudly standing eight inches at least, a silver Alberts piercing. He lazily strokes it a few times and aligns it lower to your sensitive virgin hole.

“Please.. Be gentle?” You request softly as you put your hand on his abdomen as if to make sure he had stopped and listened. He nodded before leaning down and kissing your lips slowly and passionately as he slowly eased himself into you with his hands moving to your hips. You felt a slight sting or burn while he pushed himself inside, yet his lips stayed on yours for you to be able to keep your focus and sounds averted while tasting yourself on his tongue. His hips come to halt once he’s fully inside, giving you time to adjust as he separated his lips from yours and waited for your green light patiently.

At the second nod of your head, he slowly pulled out and went in once again, creating a steady rhythm with his hips with pretty groans and praises falling from his lips.

“Fuck.. pretty cun’ sucking me in- tigh’ as hell.. Shi’.” He mumbled beautifully into the crook of your neck while his hips began rutting more into you, as if desperately chasing for more with his piercing stroking your spongey G-spot and his high.

You feel yourself clench around him as your orgasm washes over you once again, Hobie quickly following suit, Pulling out and stroking himself a bit more before finishing and cumming on your abdomen, his hands quickly moving to the sides of your head to stop himself from falling onto you and instead falling onto the space on the bed beside you. He laid on his side with a protective arm around your waist and held you close.

“Emily fuckin’ Osborn.” He mumbled almost to himself as he looked up at your fucked out expression, a small layer of sweat on your pretty face, normally he had fantasized of whoever you were under the mask being an expert at everything including dick and cunt, meanwhile here he was laying beside the daughter of the man he always swore to destroy.

“...Is now a good time to tell you that Emily is my moms name?”

“..wha’?”

___________________________

★| Taglist!:

@craziblondi @fodmdk123 @vinxernica @muffinlovesfiction @jane-3043 @coffeeandtealol @alecmores @azuurr3 @nyumei @noharaaa @alisoncdariel @dailyhobiebrown @malatuadimadre @ziarah @i-want-to-be-hit-by-a-car @malyjohn @horrorcore2002 @jess-fae @bluupen

@eyesxxyou

______

I’m really sorry if this is bad/underwhelming/not as good as the last one, I was really rushed and I felt bad for not getting this out sooner :(((

I love y’all so much <3

#across the spiderverse #spiderman #hobie brown #fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #insuke #whats in a name #part 2 #part 2/3 #im finally done

[journeytothewestresearch]

WIP: Sun Wukong's Powers and Skills

I'm currently working on a comprehensive list of Sun Wukong's magic powers. Here is just a taste from chapters two to four.

Bold black = magic power Bold red = acquired non-magic skill Bold green = claimed magic power that is never actually demonstrated Bold orange = inborn talent?

Ch. 2

Early education #1: human skills - “[H]e began to learn from his [senior immortal] schoolmates the arts of language and etiquette” (與眾師兄學言語禮貌) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 116). - Note: We all know that Monkey failed his etiquette classes.

Early education #2: religious skills - “He discussed with them the scriptures and the doctrines; he practiced calligraphy and burned incense” (講經論道、習字焚香; i.e. ritual procedure) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 116).

Wukong’s knowledge of scripture and philosophy pops up a few times in the novel. For example, he subsequently becomes enraptured by Subodhi's lecture on the Dao and Chan (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 116).

Early education #3: gardening skills - “In more leisurely moments he would be … hoeing the garden, planting flowers or pruning trees” (閑時即...鋤園、養花修樹) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 116).

Immorality (1st category) [1] - This is achieved via oral formulas (口訣) and breathing exercises (自己調息) at prescribed times (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 120-121). - The stipulated Chinese hours are before zi (12:00-14:00) and after wu (12:00-02:00) (i.e. noon to midnight) (子前午後). However, historical real world practice is reversed: after zi and before wu (i.e. midnight to noon).

Adeptness (i.e. quick learning) - “But this Monkey King was someone who, knowing one thing, could understand a hundred!” (這猴王也是他一竅通時百竅通) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 122).

First learns the “Multitude of Terrestrial Killers” (地煞數; a.k.a. “72 changes,” 七十二般變化) - This requires oral formulas (口訣, a.k.a. “oral spells,” 咒語) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 122). - This sometimes requires a magic hand sign and a shake of the body (see below).

First attempt at “Cloud-Soaring” (騰雲) - Subodhi mockingly calls this “Cloud-Climbing” (爬雲) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 122).

First learns the “cloud somersault” (觔斗雲) - This requires a magic sign, an oral spell, a fist clinch, and a body shake (捻著訣，念動真言，攢緊了拳，將身一抖). It takes him 108,000 li (里) in a single leap (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 123). - 108,000 li = 33,554 mi or 54,000 km [2]

Multitude of Terrestrial Killers (i.e. 72 changes) - This requires a magic sign (捻著訣) and an oral spell (咒語). He transforms into a pine tree (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 124).

Cloud somersault - He flies from the Western Continent to Flower-Fruit Mountain (i.e. from one side of the world to the other) “in less than an hour” (消一個時辰) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 125).

First use of the “body beyond body” (身外身法; a.k.a. “magic of body division,” 分身法) (i.e. hair clones) - This requires chewing and a “change!” (變) command. Small clone monkeys are used to overwhelm and beat up a monster who is three zhang (三丈) (31.29 ft / 9.53 m) tall (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 128). [3] A passage explains: - “For you see, when someone acquires the body of an immortal, he can project his spirit, change his form, and perform all kinds of wonders [出神變化無方]. Since the Monkey King had become accomplished in the Way, every one of the eighty-four thousand hairs on his body could change into whatever shape or substance he desired” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 128). - 原來人得仙體，出神變化無方。不知這猴王自從了道之後，身上有八萬四千毛羽，根根能變，應物隨心。

Cloud somersault - He flies 30 or 50 monkeys and property (pots, bowls, utensils, etc.) home from captivity to Flower-Fruit Mountain (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 129).

Ch. 3

Martial arts (武藝) - He “teach[es his monkeys] how to sharpen bamboos for making spears, file wood for making swords, arrange flags and banners, go on patrol, advance or retreat, and pitch camp” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 131-132). - 教小猴砍竹為標，削木為刀，治旗幡，打哨子，一進一退，安營下寨  …

Cloud Somersault - He flies east from Flower-Fruit Mountain over “200 li of water in no time” (霎時間過了二百里水面) to the Eastern Continent (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 131).

Blows a mighty wind (陣風) - This requires a magic sign (捻起訣來), an oral spell (咒語), and taking a deep breath (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 131-132). A poem states that it puts the world into chaos: - Thick clouds in vast formation moved o'er the world; Black fog and dusky vapor darkened the Earth; Waves churned in seas and rivers, afrighting fishes and crabs; Boughs broke in mountain forests, wolves and tigers taking flight. Traders and merchants were gone from stores and shops. No single man was seen at sundry marts and malls. The king retreated to his chamber from the royal court. Officials, martial and civil, returned to their homes. This wind toppled Buddha's throne of a thousand years And shook to its foundations the Five-Phoenix Tower (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 132). - 炮雲起處蕩乾坤，黑霧陰霾大地昏。 江海波翻魚蟹怕，山林樹折虎狼奔。 諸般買賣無商旅，各樣生涯不見人。 殿上君王歸內院，階前文武轉衙門。 千秋寶座都吹倒，五鳳高樓幌動根。

Body beyond body (i.e. hair clones) - This requires chewing and a “change!” (變) command. The small clone monkeys carry an armory’s worth of weapons (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 132).

Magic of displacement (攝法) - This is a spell that carries the weapon-laden monkeys on wind (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 132).

Monkey claims to have a number of supernatural powers: - “I have the ability of seventy-two transformations. The cloud somersault has unlimited power. I am familiar with the magic of body concealment (身遯身, a.k.a. 隱身法) and the magic of displacement. I can find my way to Heaven or I can enter the Earth. I can walk past the sun and the moon without casting a shadow, and I can penetrate stone and metal without hindrance. Water cannot drown me, nor fire burn me” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 133). - 我自聞道之後，有七十二般地煞變化之功，觔斗雲有莫大的神通；善能隱身遯身，起法攝法。上天有路，入地有門；步日月無影，入金石無礙；水不能溺，火不能焚。

Magic of water restriction (閉水法) - He travels to the Dragon Kingdom (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 133).

Super strength - He effortlessly toys with a 3,600 catty (斤) (4,682.61 lbs / 2,124 kg) battle fork and a 7,200 catty (9,365.23 lbs / 4,248 kg) halberd (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 134). [4] 

Super strength - He lifts the 13,500 catty (斤) (17,559.81 lbs / 7,965 kg) iron pillar in the dragon treasury (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 135).

Opens a waterway (開水道) - He uses the magic of water restriction to return to Flower-Fruit Mountain (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 137).

First use of the “Magic Method of Modeling Heaven on Earth” (法天像地的神通), a 10,000 zhang (萬丈) (104,300 ft / 31,800 m) tall giant form - This requires bending over and screaming “grow!” [長!]. This form has: - “[A] head like the Tai Mountain and a chest like a rugged peak, eyes like lightning and a mouth like a blood bowl, and teeth like swords and halberds” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 138).  - 頭如泰山，腰如峻嶺，眼如閃電，口似血盆，牙如劍戟

Immorality (2nd category) - This is achieved by inking out his name from the ledgers of hell [生死簿子] (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 141).

Ch. 4

Cloud somersault - It is much faster than those of ordinary immortals (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 145).

Travel to heaven - Refer back to ch. 3-#6A (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 145).

First use of “three-headed and six-armed” (三頭六臂) war form - This requires a “change!” (變) command (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 155).

Staff multiplication - This is done millions of times over (以一化千千化萬) to face Nezha’s own countless weapons (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 156). - The multitude of armaments are said to “clash like horned-dragons flying in the air” (cf. Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 156).

Body beyond body (i.e. hair clones) - This requires a “change!” (變) command. Monkey creates an autonomous decoy to distract Nezha while he slips behind him to land a staff blow (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 156).

Immortality (3rd category) - This is achieved via heavenly imperial wine (御酒, a.k.a. “Immortal wine,” 仙酒 and “juices of jade,” 玉液瓊漿) (Wu & Yu, vol. 1, p. 159, 165, and 167). 

I'm currently on chapter 16, so it will take me a while to finish, especially since I'm simultaneously gathering info for several other articles, including mirrored essays for Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing.

Once I've gone through all 100 chapters, I will put each instance of a particular power into its own category (transformation, super strength, hair clones/tools, etc.) and then analyze everything as a whole. The Google Doc containing the list of powers will be attached to the analysis.

This project was partly inspired by a previous effort made by @the-monkey-ruler.

I'm open to feedback.

Notes:

1)  In place of using “layer” or “level,” I’m choosing to designate his various immortalities as “categories.” This is because a new layer of divine longevity or durability would surely be added for each immortal peach, elixir pill, or cup/jug of heavenly wine consumed. Hence, eating multiple peaches would be one category, eating multiple elixir pills would be one category, and so on and so forth.

2) It’s important to note that 108,000 li is a metaphor for instant enlightenment (see section III here). Therefore, power-scalers should not use any instance of this as a feat. 

3) One zhang (丈) comprises ten chi (尺, a.k.a. "Chinese feet"), and during the Ming Dynasty, one chi was roughly 12.3 in or 31.8 cm. This makes one zhang 10.43 ft or 3.18 m (Jiang, 2005, p. xxxi).  

4) During the Ming, one catty (jin, 斤) was 590 grams (Elvin, 2004, p. 491 n. 133).

Source:

Elvin, M. (2004). The Retreat of the Elephants: An Environmental History of China. New Haven (Conn.): Yale University Press.

Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4) (Rev. ed.). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.

#Sun Wukong #Monkey King #Journey to the West #JTTW #Monkey King powers #Sun Wukong powers #Lego Monkie Kid #LMK

[fatuifucker]

stupid boy

[scaramouche art cr: bananakeki on twt]

brat catboy! scaramouche x mean dom gn reader

SUMMARY = you made scara wear a maid dress. he was being a little bitch about it so you show him that he will always be your stupid little catboy maid.

WARNINGS = smut, reader's pp can be read as strap, penetration (reader giving), implied mating press, handjob, dacryphilia, nipple play, degradation, voyeurism but both scara and reader are aware of it, scara calls reader "master", use of "kitty" and "stupid boy" as pet names for scara

W/C = 0.5k

A/N = "I don't like writing mean dom readers for scara bc I don't wanna be me–" *fucking does it* I think this could be better but the more I think about that, the more likely I will delay it so here you go

You did it. Somehow you managed to get your most spoiled catboy to wear a maid dress. How did you do it? Doesn’t matter. The most important thing…was how cute he was in that frilly little dress. Scaramouche — having long relinquished the death threats and irate glares — had been reduced to a mewling mess underneath you, subservient to the cock, your cock, splitting him open from the inside. He opened his mouth to curse at you, but all that came out was just another shrill moan. Unable to resist the urge to tease him, you tugged at his nipples through his clothing.

“If you keep making those sounds, the others will get jealous.”

Knowing them, they already were. But it’s their loss. When you asked one of your catboys to wear a maid outfit, they shoved the role over to Scaramouche, much to the ravenette’s evident displeasure. If you could wager a bet, you would guess that the other catboys were regretting their decision, judging by the fact that both you and Scara could hear their faint moans just outside the door.

“Are you fine with them?” you asked, slowing down your thrusts to let him comprehend your question. “Shall I take them out of the house?”

Blinking, Scaramouche shook his head.

“It’s…fine. Let them be.”

You scoffed, smirking as you pulled on his nipples, earning a gasp from the catboy. “Kinky little kitty.”

You resumed to your original pace, hiking Scara’s dress further up to his stomach. Pearls of pre-cum embellished his pretty crimsoned cockhead. Even the colour matches his cute little cheeks. God, a devious face like that could convince a person to commit equally devious atrocities for him. No wonder he is such a spoiled brat. Leaning down, you gently bit his squishy cheek, peppering it with kisses.

“Stupid kitty. My stupid boy.”

“How dare you ca– mm! Fuck, right there! Shit!”

You moved to connect your lips with his, meshing your tongue with his and mixing your salivas together. Your other hand wrapped around his quivering penis, harshly stroking it to make him even dumber than he already was. Your finger wiped the precum off his head, slathering the substance all over his cock as additional lubrication.

"I wish I could take a picture of you to capture this image forever."

Scaramouche could only whimper in response, unable to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks as his hands were preoccupied with holding his legs back to his chest.

"Master! I'm gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna–!"

Cum gushed out his cock, spurts of it soiling the apron of his dress. You pulled out of him with a sigh. "I didn't say you could cum that fast. You even messed up that dress."

Scaramouche quietly mumbled something out.

"What was that?"

"...Sorry."

He furrowed his eyebrows, grumbling as he looked away from you. Ah, how invigorating it was to see the ill-tempered catboy completely submitting to you. Giggling, you plopped beside him, pushing the maid headband to the top of his head and reaching to rub his ears.

“My stupid kitty.”

“Fuck you,” Scaramouche growled despite purring and nuzzling into your hand.

“Alright.”

“Wha–”

Picking him up, you tossed Scaramouche on top of you, positioning him to straddle you.

“You said you wanted to fuck me right? Go on, ride me.”

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact x reader smut #scaramouche x reader smut #scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche x reader smut #catboy scaramouche #sub scaramouche #gn reader #gender neutral reader #dom reader

[umeqii]

haaiaii moot i am back I HOPE IK YOIR FIRDT REQUEST ^_^

do ive had this brainrot for the past week about this one scenario but if u dont feel comfortable doing this JUST DELETE THIS

so theres been this thing on tiktok for couples abiut the girl of the relationship taking a bra strap out of an old bra and gifting jt to their s/o as a bracelet which i think is reallt cute

could yoi maybe do that but with akito and an (separate like x reader) id love to see their reactions

ok im done yapping YIP YIP YIPPIE

JEJSJEJ FLIPPING EXPLODES YES YOU ARE MY FIRST REQUEST AND OMG DW I'LL MAKW YOURR REQUEST ^_^ !!!!

-⠀⠀⠀⠀OH WELL , IT'S ⠀⠀⠀. . . ⠀⠀⠀something alright !

QUICK A/N - might be SLIGHTLY suggestive in akito's like idk and also i wear sport bras so i have like no idea what genuien bra straps are like so sorry for my bad description (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)

fandom ; project sekai

character(s) ; an shiraishi + akito shinonome

creator ; umeqii

gender ; afab reader :33

─── AN !!

well i mean, an is already quite the expressive girl, and since having you as her as her amazing s/o, she feels even happier and brags about you ALOT !!

other people might see this as a silly gift idea, but at first you were quite hesitant on giving it to her, but you thought, "screw that" and gifted it to her.

you guys were walking home one day after school had ended and as you guys were talking about how what food would sound good for when you next hang out, you remembered you had a gift!!

that gift being a blue strap bracelet, from your old bra :DD!!

you had decorated it slightly, adding some cute pearls and blue charms that your thought would match an and you thought you did a great job !! (you did btw :33)

at first, you thought she didn't like it from the way she stared at and flipped the beads around and kept quiet; due to how you knew she struggles with expressing critism >_<

but then you saw a cute and loving smile growing on her pretty face, as her pale cheeks grew pinker each second before she looked up at you

" this is from your bra, right? "

" WAIT HOW DID YOU KNOW, I WAS GONNA TELL YOU BUT STILL?? "

" i'm wearing the exact one right now, babe! "

" oh "

que an giggling and embracing you in a cutie patootie hug and kissing your face and saying how much she loves it (SHE DID DON'T WORRY <33)

now she's planning on how to make you one aswell !

─── AKITO !!

okay so, you were doing this annual l/n (last name :3) family clean out, and you were going through your drawers to find clothes you didn't need anymore until you said your deep orange bra from two years ago (ﾟдﾟ三ﾟдﾟ) !!

as you were putting it into the recycling bin that you were going to give to your guardian so they could give it to the clothing shop thing, you remembered something you saw on your fyp and thought of how you could try it out !!

it was making a bracelet for your amazing and handsome and talented boyfriend akito °\>3</°

the colour did remind you of him, which you smiled about aswell as the thought of him wearing it around :33

so you put your amazing art n crafts skills to the test and decided to make a bracelet for him

good thing to say that it worked !!

you even added a dark purple bow at the end aswell as orange and clear crystals :DD

you gave it to him when you visited his house one time when he seemed kinda of tenser than usual  (｡•́︿•̀｡) 

you actually made it ages ago but ended up forgetting and then remembered in the moment because of how you thought akito seemed upset and wanted to cheer him up.

" oh? it's a...bracelet? thanks, it looks cool- wait what's the base you used for it? it feels like a buckle or whatever it's called? "

oh yeah, your bra :D

" oh yeah, i made it from my bra ≥∇≤ !! "

" sorry what "

let me tell you, akito isn't as slick as he thinks he is :PP

he turned into a huge shade of red, maybe it was just of the thought that it was made out of a bra that you had worn multiple times and it even touched your skin but naaahhh!!

you explained to him about the trend on tiktok as his eyes went ever so slightly wide and he made an, "ohh" typa sound

his cheeks were still lowkey red but he didn't know that :P

he just cleared his throat and then placed it into his lap as he ran his hand through his hair and said :

" uh...thanks for the..bracelet though. h-hey, i never said i didn't like it idiot, let me finish!! anyways...you did good with the charms.."

you started smiling like an idiot btw ∩∇∩

now he wants to make you one. but maybe with genuine materials for bracelet making.

RAAAAAAAHHHH FLIPPING EXPLODES OMG I DID IT AND OMG IM SO SORRY IF ITS OOC ANYWAY BECAUSE I DONT ACTUALLU PLAY PJSK, IM JUST IN THE FANDOM AND I DONT LOOK INTO AN'S CHARACTER THAT MUXH BUT I HOPR YIU ENJOYED?!?@?@?!?!

~ mari / umeqii ˃ᴗ˂

#umeqii #akito shinonome x reader #an shiraishi #pjsk x reader #akito shinonome #pjsk akito #pjsk an #an shiraishi x reader #akito x reader #an x reader #akito running his hand thriugh his hair sign me up like HRJWWJ?!?!?!?

[dangermousie]

"I will help you protect your family" thinks the ML.

SIR, YOU ARE THERE IN DISGUISE TO INVESTIGATE THEM FOR TREASON ON BEHALF OF PARANOID EMPEROR.

And nothing clicks in that empty skull of his.

But then, this is the man who thought it was an awesome idea to send his either traumatized or disabled (not clear) sister to live with a bunch of strangers who he is investigating for treason and whose family has already been exiled/impoverished BY THE FREAKING EMPEROR HIMSELF! There are so many bad scenarios there - from the emperor suspecting him and his sister of collusion, to his sister being implicated, to all sorts of violence and just NO BRAIN ALL EMPTY is the ML.

This said, perhaps I am unjust to him. I am pretty sure I'd not be able to handle a super powerful job like chief of secret police in such a fashion that it apparently leaves him all this other time to wander around with FL, be a martial arts teacher and what not. Any man who can do chief of secret police job in about .7 sec a day like he does without being fired certainly is skilled.

PS What is the point of him walking in that mask all over and nobody in the court except the emperor knowing he's the chief when literally every single one of his employees sees him without a mask. Are you telling me none of these dozens of people could be bribed? Forget "two can keep a secret if one of them is dead" - this is a literal crowd!

PPS Does the heroine have face blindness, lack of spacial awareness and is utterly deaf? He doesn't change his voice between personas and how many 6'2 dudes are wandering around town? But then his own family seems to have no curiosity about where he goes all day so perhaps he's just utterly forgettable.

PPPS This drama is written by Till the End of the Moon screenwriters. That drama had its flaws in terms of narrative and character understanding (and that ending was a MESS) but it was largely coherent. But this is more holey than a colander. How?! (This said, Moon always worked best when it stuck close to the novel; but this has a novel too so...)

PPPPS If you are dying to watch female empowerment through trade with a dreamy secret police torturer ML set up, you are much better off going to A Dream of Splendor. I found ADOS morally repugnant for reasons I've talked about at length when it aired, but it was well-acted and narratively coherent. I didn't have to like those characters and found a lot of its POV gross but it actually made sense - these felt like people in a consistent world, not whatever this mess is.

#cdrama #blossoms in adversity

[incorrect-koh-posts]

Other than leper king and his heirs which book would you recommend for research on Baldwin iv of Jerusalem?

All right then, buckle up for some nerdery! 😁

I will preface this by saying that I am not a total expert on Baldwin and haven't done a colossal amount of research specifically on him. I could chew your ear off prattling on about the general world of the crusader kingdoms, their politics, and about Raymond III of Tripoli and Sibylla of Jerusalem in particular, but Baldwin isn't my main interest here. Also, as far as I know, Hamilton's study is the only longer academic work centred solely around Baldwin. Hence, in order to learn more about your fav and the world he lived in, I'd recommend reading a little more broadly. Being a king, he is featured (at least in some capacity) in most publications that deal with the Latin kingdoms in the latter half of the 12th century.

That said, have a list:

Piers D. Mitchell: "Leprosy and the Case of King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem: Microbacterial Disease in the Crusader States of the 12th and 13th Centuries", International Journal of Leprosy, vol. 61, no. 2, 1993, pp. 283-91. Pretty self-explanatory. You can find this article on the internet; Mitchell also has a few other publications that deal with medicine in the crusader states, so you might find some additional Baldwin stuff there as well.

Elma Brenner: "Recent Perspectives on Leprosy in Medieval Western Europe", History Compass, vol. 8, no. 5, 2010, pp. 388-406. Has a little bit on Baldwin, might be useful if you want to find out more about how the disease was regarded by his contemporaries.

Helen J. Nicholson: Sybil, Queen of Jerusalem, 1186-1190. Routledge, 2022. This is a really good and really recent one that I was lucky enough to find in my uni library. Of course Sibylla-centred, but gives a good overview of the politics in Outremer and of course has passages about Baldwin in it. Also look into some of Nicholson's other publications if you're interested in the role of women in the context of crusading.

Kevin James Lewis: The Counts of Tripoli and Lebanon in the Twelfth Century: Sons of Saint Gilles. Routledge, 2017. Obviously mostly a Raymond-centric source, but it is also relatively recent and has a good chunk on Baldwin in the chapter where Lewis talks about Raymond's time as Baldwin's regent.

Joshua Prawer: Crusader Institutions. Oxford University Press, 1980. More politics to be found here, but very well put together. Prawer was an extremely prolific scholar where the history of the Latin East and the crusades was concerned, so - once again: if you're interested, look up his other works.

Jonathan Riley-Smith: The Oxford Illustrated History of the Crusades, Oxford University Press, 1997. Good overview that goes into detail about the mentality among crusaders and aspects of daily life. Again, Riley-Smith is one of the authorities in the field, so looking into his bibliography might be worth a shot.

If you're into military history, the works of Benjamin Z. Kedar, John France - or, if you want something more dated, R.C. Smail - might be of interest to you. They mostly cover general points of Frankish and Muslim warfare or the Battle of Hattin in particular (other than in Hamilton or in some of the primary sources from the crusader period, I've never come across an article on the Battle of Montgisard), but might be helpful if you want to get a feel for what life was like at the time.

Hans-Eberhard Mayer is also definitely worth a look as a scholar, even though his works are a bit older now. However, I'm not sure how much of his stuff you can find in translation - I've only read him in German.

For the physical setting of crusader-period Jerusalem and the material culture, I very heartily recommend two works written or edited by Adrian J. Boas: Jerusalem in the Time of the Crusades: Society, Landscape and Art in the Holy City under Frankish Rule (Routledge, 2001) and The Crusader World (Routledge, 2016). I consult both of these frequently for world-building in my fic writing.

If you want something on the general concept of the knight / chivalry, Maurice Keen's Chivalry (Yale University Press, 2005) might be a good start. For a detailed analysis of medieval courtly culture, I recommend Joachim Bumke's Courtly Culture: Literature and Society in the High Middle Ages (2000, English translation by Thomas Dunlap). That thing was invaluable when I was writing my BA thesis. And if you'd like to know more about the literary life of the crusaders, there is a recent publication called Literature of the Crusades (Cambridge University Press, 2019) edited by Simon Parsons and Linda M. Paterson that I also found rather good.

For fashion: The various Osprey Military History books are a good choice if you want visual representations of knightly dress. There's also a collection of essays called Encountering Medieval Textiles and Dress: Objects, Texts, Images (Palgrave Macmillan, 2002) edited by Désirée Koslin and Janet Snyder, which is one of the better ones I've found, as most books about medieval fashion focus mostly on later centuries. This one might be a bit hard to get through, though, if you don't have some kind of background knowledge about medieval texts or architecture.

If you want something less strictly academic and more in the vein of popular history, you might want to try James Reston's Warriors of God (2002) or the much more dated but rather fanboy-ish The Crusades: A History (also sometimes titled The Dream and The Tomb) by Robert Payne, which is very pro-Baldwin.

Other than that, I'll link you an older post about fictional depictions of Baldwin and other assorted good bois and girls from KoH. I hope this will scratch the Baldwin itch for you!

And: If anyone has more suggestions, of course do feel free to add them!

#asks #kingdom of heaven 2005 #baldwin iv #sibylla of jerusalem #raymond iii of tripoli #balian of ibelin #crusades #snippets of actual history #book recommendations #i could add so many more books to that list lol #maybe i'll post a longer list of all the stuff i have read one day

[ironicsoap]

How do you do your mouths? they always seem to be very tricky for me, especially moving the teeth with the jaw for viseme blendshapes

Ooh! So, I have 2 separate workflows I do for mouths but they're both kinda the same workflow. Something that may help more than anything I'd write is my second youtube channel where I have some timelapses uploaded

Visemes first though before I get into modeling

for lip sync, the first thing I do is make an AA / Jaw open shape key. I set up an empty where I want the jaw rotation to be, and i set my 3D cursor there + set my transform pivot point to 3D cursor. (Knowing where to put the jaw rotation spot is kinda tricky and takes some fiddling around) Once I get the mouth where I'd like it to be, I rotate the teeth and other mouth parts as well on their own AA shape keys

After that I use AA to make the OH viseme, and I make the EE viseme. Then, I combine those three and do extra adjustments to create OO, FF, TH, CH, and PP/MM. You can do all lip sync from just those. For VRChat, I generate visemes in the CATS blender addon and then I delete any of the visemes it generated for ones I've already made (OO,FF,TH,CH,PP) and replace them with mine, because they look better than the auto generated

More info on modeling below!

I usually leave a bit of a gap between the lips. If the outlines don't fill that gap entirely, I make a mesh that fills in that spot

So for the actual modeling I have 2 methods:

The first and primary way I do things is I trace out the mouth outline from my refs with verts, and adjust it to match the front and side view

and i just start extruding and filling in until I get a head mesh

(btw this is @pumpoen's fursona/ref art)

the second way i do things is i make a super rough sculpt, and I retopologize it! But I also combine the retopologized mesh with my first method for the eye area, because I've found that I can't really get a sculpt perfectly accurate to a 2D ref

Hope this was helpful! Sorry If I didn't go into enough detail :o

#3d modeling #3d furry #blender 3d #blender advice #3d advice #soap advice #soap talks #asks #anonymous

[reilly310]

Outlander: Blood of My Blood

art credit: @SimonWrightSays

I'm dusting off my blog for the first time in a looong time with some thoughts about the new prequel series.

I've been on the fence about the new series, but after learning that Claire's parents' story will be included, I found myself more intrigued. Then seeing this (amazing) sketch of young Jamie and Claire got my imagination flowing.

I'm mostly interested to see how the writers will integrate the two storylines, as I would think they'll have to do. Given at least one (and perhaps both) of Claire's parents can time travel:

Will one of them be from the past (her father, I presume) and, in a kind of reverse Outlander, meet/fall in love with the other in the future?

And/or will both of them travel back to Jamie's parent's time (purposely or by accident) and will they meet/be friends (or foes) of each other's for a time?

Will they give birth to Claire in the past or the present? Will Jamie and Claire know each other (or at least meet briefly) as very young children but be too young to remember that encounter/relationship? (See picture above..and yes, I know there's a 5 year age difference in OL but just indulge me here because that picture is so cute. Maybe, more realistically, when Claire is 5, they are present for Jamie's birth instead. Isn't one of the rules of time travel in OL that you have to have a connection to where you're traveling to? Since Claire went through the stones the first time by accident, could she have landed where/when she did because of that connection to Jamie / his family from her past even if she didn't consciously remember it?)

Do Claire's parents actually die in a car crash or was she just told this by Uncle Lamb as a way to explain their absence? Did they get stuck in the past instead and spend the rest of their lives trying to return to her? Do Jamie's parents find out their secret and try to help them in this endeavor to return to the future?

Or maybe they perish in the past and Uncle Lamb, a time traveler himself, brings Claire to the present to keep her safe.

Because (I don't think) there's any book reference to Claire's parents other than her mentioning how they died and that she doesn't really remember them, the possibilities related to their storyline are endless.

Having put these thoughts out into the universe, though, I'm likely setting myself up for disappointment if/when the series airs and does none of these things. However, a connection of some sort between the two couples will have to be established in order for the series to have a flow that makes sense and is not disjointed.

PS: I read the first 3 books and part of the 4th before setting them aside years ago, so I don't consider myself a book reader. Perhaps there's information in the later books that would make the potential connections I've imagined for this new series impossible. If so, please let me know.

PPS: . Do we know if this prequel is intended to be a limited series (like the Yellowstone prequel "1883") or a series with multiple seasons? If it's a limited series of 10 episodes, they might be able to get away with two separate storylines that merge in some way only at the end. I just don't think I would find it as intriguing as one that's interconnected.

[strqyr]

i found it so telling in v8 that their conflict over which plan to follow took up nearly an entire episode, bc they were all so terrified by what that division meant, whereas the happy huntresses had no problem splitting off to help them out. like, this adult functional team NOT wrapped up in ozpin's shit has no problem splitting off to achieve different parts of the same goal

they're secure enough, both in terms of their relationships to each other, but also like... that their intentions are good? idk how to phrase it. team rwby/jnor are all terrified and convinced that the mere act of having different goals is actually aiding Salem/evil more nebulously.

and while they were able to split off to do their different tasks on... okay terms, that underlying anxiety is still present here. don't say that, you sound like ironwood. cheer jaune up about the PP, we can't let him be sad about this thing he's lost, that only spreads negativity.

the most interesting part of rwby to me is the larger implications of the grimm being drawn to negativity, right? like, toxic or not (and it is), there is a strategic reason to squash negative emotions

But the Ever After doesn't have grimm. it is quite literally the safest place for these kids to sort out their emotions, to feel those negative emotions.

but until they realize that and allow themselves to feel those negative emotions unrestrained, they'll be stuck in this same loop.

anyway they're definitely not getting out of the ever after this volume lmao

ever think about how mantle suppressing emotions, keeping them in check by abolishing the arts and repressing self-expression, is the first thing mentioned as leading towards the great war, and now there's a system in place that encourages keeping negative emotions in check to an unhealthy degree just to avoid attracting more grimm, which ends up feeding into this loop of bottling negative feelings, leaving them to simmer underneath a lid until it boils over and the resulting swarm of grimm would be so much worse than if those emotions and feelings had been addressed in a healthy manner when they first surfaced?

i think about this a lot. and then these kids have the added burden of stopping an immortal witch who has all the time on her side while they have no time to stop and mourn bc if they falter for even a moment everything will fall apart... right?

it won't, but they don't know that—ruby doesn't know that bc that was never an option for her. gotta be the leader and pick everyone else up, if she falters she'll let everyone down, twice now she's been knocked out cold and her friends have pleaded her to wake up bc they need her and and and

OOF.

i don't wanna make any predictions bc i'm Bad at them... but i'm still going to make one and say if they're getting out of the ever after it's going to be like. the very end of the finale.

#rwby #rwby9 #rwby spoilers #anon #ask.strqyr

[radical-revolution]

What is the secret of happiness? Russell's answer —

”The secret of happiness is this: Let your interests be as wide as possible, and let your reactions to the things and persons that interest you be as far as possible friendly rather than hostile.”

Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness (1930)

” ... the world may be plunged in war, knowledge in some direction may be hard to achieve, friends may die. But pains of these kinds do not destroy the essential quality of life.”

The Conquest of Happiness (1930) by Bertrand Russell pre-dates the modern genre of self-help popular/philosophy by decades. This work presents Russell's rationalist prescription for living a happy life, mainly the importance of cultivating interests outside oneself and the dangers of passive and base pleasure. The Conquest of Happiness (1930) is often cited as one of Bertrand Russell's most accessible and favorite books.

Excerpts The Conquest of Happiness (1930) by Bertrand Russell

━━

”If you are happy, ask yourself how many of your friends are so. And when you have reviewed your friends teach yourself the art of reading faces make yourself receptive to the moods of those whom you meet in the course of an ordinary day.

A mark in every face I meet,

Marks of weakness, marks of woe

says William Blake. Though the kinds are different, you will find that unhappiness meets you everywhere.”

— Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness (1930), Part I. Causes of Unhappiness, Ch: I, What Makes People Unhappy?, p. 9

”The secret of happiness is this: Let your interests be as wide as possible, and let your reactions to the things and persons that interest you be as far as possible friendly rather than hostile. The world is vast and our own powers are limited. If all our happiness is bound up entirely in our personal circumstances it is difficult not to demand of life more than it has to give. And to demand too much is the surest way of getting even less than is possible. The man who can forget his worries by means of a genuine interest in, say, gardening, or the life history of stars, will find that, when he returns from his excursion into the impersonal world, he has acquired a poise and calm which enable him to deal with his worries in the best way, and he will in the meantime have experienced a genuine even if temporary happiness.”

— Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness (1930), Part II. Causes of Happiness, Chapter X: Is Happiness Still Possible?, p. 140

”I was not born happy. In adolescence, I hated life and was continually on the verge of suicide, from which, however, I was restrained by the desire to know only more mathematics. Now, on the contrary, I enjoy life; I might almost say that with every year that passes I enjoy it more. This is due partly to having discovered what were the things that I most desired, and having gradually acquired many of these things. Partly it is due to having successfully dismissed certain objects of desire — such as the acquisition of indubitable knowledge about something or other — as essentially unattainable. But very largely my current happiness is due to a diminishing preoccupation with myself.

Gradually I learned to be indifferent to myself and my deficiencies; I came to centre my attention increasingly upon external objects: the state of the world, various branches of knowledge, individuals for whom I felt affection. External interests, it is true, bring each its own possibility of pain: the world may be plunged in war, knowledge in some direction may be hard to achieve, friends may die. But pains of these kinds do not destroy the essential quality of life, as do those that spring from disgust with the self.”

— Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness (1930), Part I. Causes of Unhappiness, Ch: I, What Makes People Unhappy?, pp. 18-9

Image: A rather cheerful Bertrand Russell in his private study at his home in Penrhyndeudreath, Gwynedd, United Kingdom (1959).

[team-avia]

This game was such an incredible experience I loved everything about it from the art to the story to the music to just the entire thing! The narrative was super satisfying and left me in deep pain 😤👏✨ You guys did such an incredible job!!!

I was wondering if you had any songs you associated with each of the characters or music you liked to work to while working on this project? ^-^

The music I listened to changed a lot during production and a lot of the time had nothing to do with RL, and there's nothing really that stands out.

I fundamentally associate Yuma Sun's Violets to Stone with Bela, canon or otherwise. Disclaimer, the music video is explicit in more than one sense.

There were some other considerations for character themes than those that made it into the final game, and those that stands out are Neffex's Destiny for Daniela and Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy for Angie. Originally, each of the LIs also had individual horror themes, but most of them made its way into the game in a more generic use. Except for Versunken for Bela and Moonlight Menschen for Cassandra, both by Myuu.

For Alcina, I would just put on Diamond City Radio :| ngl. She's butcher pete, and y'all are her willing victims. Lynda Carter

Bela mostly calm classical music. Agnes Obel.

Cassandra also classical music but the more dramatic rather than chill pieces. Also classical covers of modern music. Ludovico Einaudi.

Daniela would get the sorta music I was listening to when I was still actively skating. So Thousand Foot Krutch, Zack Hemsey, Pendulum, Blue Stahli, Sum 41, Rise Against, Green Day, etc. pp.

For Angie, you have to listen to 8 to 10 hours of nyan cat or taking the hobbits to isengard. This takes you into the right frame of mind. Speaking from experience, you will lose 0 braincells doing this. Promise.

Donna, ambience tracks.

For Miranda, Cryo Chamber or smth idk. I can't just say classical music again. Calm and creepy background tracks.

arlanorr

for designing the stans i listened to some bimbo bussy bops (naturally), for alcina i listened to jazz, and for the others it was just all over the place 😭

oh for anamaria and dani i remember looping "Feels - Calvin Harris" for like 2 hours straight

idk how i managed to listen to the same song for 2 hours

in general i'd just pick a playlist that i vaguely associate with the chara's personalities and then listen to it. (so social butterfly charas = feel good playlists, donna = mitski 😭)

finch

jazz music, thats what i listened to when writing alcina's route. oh, lovefool for daniela, i think that's what it's called.

bee

I listened to a bunch of teen angst for Miranda.

I listened to like. Mitski for Donna

cinder

#mail 💌 #arlamod💙 #finchmod🌻 #beemod🐝 #cindermod🔪

[fangirleaconmigo]

Dandelion (Jaskier) as a Spy

Re-reading Baptism of Fire (Very minor spoilers for that book ahead) and I am dying laughing because it just occurred to me how deeply, deeply Dijkstra must hate Dandelion. Like it has to go so far beyond your basic hatred and just burn with the fire of a thousand suns. They both went to Oxenfurt so maybe it even started there.

I mean just picture it! You're a ruthlessly ambitious, brutal head of the Redanian spy agency. You have King Vizimir's ear! Your name strikes fear in the hearts of men from the Blue Mountains to the sea!

You are so brilliant that in King Vizimir's court they say that:

If Dijkstra states it is noon yet darkness reigns all around, it is time to start worrying about the fate of the sun.

You studied at Oxenfurt, and presumably you enjoy your association with the place, because even though you hate pomposity "with a vengeance", you rent rooms there for your offices that you call "Faculty of Most Contemporary History".

And now based solely on his association with the Witcher, (I stand corrected, please see reblog) you have to employ fucking Dandelion, a man whose bones clatter when he walks into danger and who vomits at the sight of a murder. A man who thinks the tides of the sea are caused by a fat toad like beast who crouches at the bottom of the ocean.

You have to protect him from Reince, and sit there as he transparently lies his fucking face off to you, because while yes, he has a useful association with the WItcher, he won't give you SHIT because the only thing he cares about other than drinking and fucking is Geralt of goddamn Rivia. (When Dijkstra is talking to Dandelion, he refers to Geralt as "your witcher")

You try to put him in his place, so he understands just how beneath you he is:

"Dandelion," said Dijkstra..."you thick-headed halfwit. You unmitigated dunce. Do you have to spoil everything you touch? Couldn't you just once in your life, do something right? I know you can't think for youreself. I know you're almost forty, look almost thirty, think you're just over twenty, and act as though you're barely ten. And being aware of this I usually furnish you with precise instructions...and I regularly get the impression that I'm talking to a stone wall."

And yet, he doesn't seem to realize how beneath you he is! He "feigns insolence", he pretends he doesn't understand what you are asking. He "puffs himself up" with pride and says that you are not the boss of him, that he's just doing his "patriotic duty". And what's more, he lies just as predictably as he breathes.

"I didn't know anything about Geralt's plans," Dandelion lied with conviction.

and

"Geralt has left," the bard lied calmly.

and

"Novigrad," the troubadour lied without thinking, "He went to look for Rience there."

and

"I have no doubt," lied the poet, "that's all you care about. But I really don't know what you're talking about."

and

"Nothing of the kind," lied the poet. "I believe you." --Blood of Elves pp 197-203

And you don't know what is worse, the fact that he thinks he's really getting one over on you?

Or the fact that during your time at Oxenfurt, you were not awarded the title of Master of Letters...

Dijkstra had studied at the Academy of Oxenfurt, and although he had not been awarded the title of Master of Letters, he knew the basics of bombastic scholarly jargon. --Baptism of Fire, p 22

And this pompous buffoon spent the majority of his time as an Oxenfurt student drunk, not putting in any effort at all, then walzed off with a Master of the Seven Liberal Arts and a job offer.

I mean, Dandelion's favorite subject was Geography, because he could hide a demijohn of vodka behind the atlases. (The Last Wish p 158)

Everyone thought he was an idiot, so he must have missed classes and/or talked just absolute garbage in class. He must have just been a disaster of ill advised sexual liaisons, intoxication, and bullshittery. No one expected anything from him. The man was not putting in the work.

But then THEN the fucker waltzed in the day of exams and aced them all, shocking everyone, getting a Master of the Seven Liberal Arts and being immediately offered the post of lecturer, which he left to wander around with his fucking lute.

The post of lecturer had been offered to him when he had passed his final exams with full marks, to the astonishment of professors with whom he had earned the reputation of lazybones, rake and idiot during his studies.

Then when he got very famous with his lute, the Academy had

"Taken great pains to have him visit and give guest lectures.

And Dandelion's like...ehh I guess. When I have time.

Dandelion yielded to their requests only sporadically.." Blood of Elves p 194

Meanwhile you have to rent rooms and make up your own name for your fake department. Then you have to sit in them while this asshole stands in front of you lying like a rug because despite the fact that he won't tell you anything, he is currently your best shot at finding the witcher.

hahahahhahhahhaha it's a miracle Dijkstra never just snapped and throttled him with his bare hands.

#the witcher #jaskier #thinking about the witcher books yet again #dandelion #sigismund dijkstra #the witcher meta #thinking about dandelion yet again

[for-a-longlongtime]

Wow. Y'all. I truly never expected so many awesome responses on the post I wrote last night about Dieter, Goya and Pedro on Talk Art. It is the first 'fun' thing I've written in so many years - after having felt blocked/paralyzed re: creative pursuits since 2020 (shit happened) -, without stressing about how I wrote it, and it means the world to me that so many people liked it and shared it.

I don't want to clutter up all the feeds by individually sharing and responding to the reblogs etc, so I'm throwing it together in one post here - because I want y'all to know I appreciate it so much. And it honestly made me even more excited that some of my favorite PP fic authors did so, because I've been enjoying YOUR work so much!

@chaoticgeminate Sending those hugs right back, and your fic was absolutely not a silly little piece! I truly love(d) it, and I'm glad it sent me down this little rabbithole. And yes, while writing that piece I also became more convinced that Pedro himself was a really big part in shaping Dieter and his background story. It's so damn intelligent and very much his style.

One thing I didn't mention yesterday (and I'm sure this is something a lot of people already spotted since the first day that the movie was online) is that I also came to realize how much Pedro has based Dieter's outfits and some mannerisms on Jeff Bridges' character The Dude from 'The Big Lebowski'. Never really saw that movie but I put it on today for a bit, and it was striking -- I'd even dare to say that the "'Bola, hold my hair!" moment on the toilet is a nod to how The Dude (who has longer hair) gets his face shoved into a toilet. Also, at one point when Bridges' character is addressed with "Mr Lebowski", he dismisses that and tells the guy to call him Dude, or even 'Duder' which, yeah, that's just a small step from 'Dieter Bravo'.

amycben on Reddit said the same thing about Bridges, and shared these Dieter pics, which definitely made it clear how our Feral Raccoon Boy's style is inspired by 'The Dude' <3 I don't care much for the Lebowski movie, but I love a good reference, especially since it's a Coen brothers movie - and we all know that Pedro now has a small role in Ethan Coen's upcoming movie 'Driveaway Dolls'. Anyway, I honestly hope that at some point Pedro will be asked about the work he did in shaping Dieter, because I'd love to hear more about this. There's no chance in hell that'll happen, because which journalist would ask him this? But I'm cool though if the universe wants to manifest one of us getting to interview him some time in the future, haha.

Anyway, again @chaoticgeminate - thank YOU really. I needed that deep dive more than I knew thanks to your writing!

@nicolethered thank you too for being responsible for my deep dive, haha, it were your screenshots that made me recognize the other Goya paintings! <3 (and I love your gifs btw!

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings well hearing from you that you loved MY writing is just such a super awesome thing after how much I've been enjoying your Dieter story! <3 <3

@julesonrecord I'M TOTALLY IN hahaha, I saw your comment right before I went to bed last night and it made me smile so much!

@imaswellkid I'm def not an Apatow person either, and I'll be honest - the first time I watched the Bubble I couldn't get past the first half, haha. But I later began to realize that you should indeed watch it through a critical lens and as a reflection about the craziness that was going on, rather than 'oh this is a movie about the pandemic'. The Mando bud is great btw! But even better is the Baby Yoda bud - I have no clue how growers/dispenseries (I'm in the midwest) get away with naming their product after Disney stuff, but I'm sure glad it got me to try that hahaha.

@lunapascal IKR artist Dieter is so damn underrated, and I'm so glad that at least a whole lot of fic authors are giving him more of what he deserves! OK and I totally want to write some too now, hahaha. Especially because there's a lack of Dieter x OMC/m!reader fics, which tbh needs to be fixed.

@survivingandenduring @sp00kymulderr @thesimulationswarm @pedrit0-pascalit0 @gemmahale @sin-djarin @perotovar @ladamedusoif @gracie7209 thank you so much for your kind words, they honestly mean so much to me! @angelofsmalldeathandthecodeine WOW, that Dali piece is fuckin incredible! And @basicoccult woahhh maybe y'all did!? See now I feel like I need to inquire about whether y'all take new initiates! <3

@chronically-ghosted God don't get me started, it's so tempting - next thing you know I'll have suckered myself into writing Dieter fic (while I'm only just getting started now on two other WIPs), haha. But yes I'm so curious about what the unspoken canon is there -- and most probably Pedro is the one with answers to that since it seems so much like he created Dee. I ended up googling some Apatow interviews this morning and saw that he set out to make the Bubble as a sort of Christopher Guest movie (the mockumentary style), and other articles said that there was a lot of improv involved - so obviously Pedro must've contributed a lot. Particularly because I've read at least interviews with four directors (Zeke who did Prospect, Craig Mazin from TLOU, I wanna say Patty Jenkins, and I'm currently blanking on the other name) who spoke about how involved Pedro was, down to specific dialogue and character's motivations etc in shaping the movie (I think Zeke said that Pedro worked with them to tone down Ezra's Shakespearian manner of speech a little, which I can totally see happening since Pedro has done/read so much Shakespeare and it's easy to picture that he wants to fine tune it so it's accessible enough for audiences). Ugh, it's probably gonna take a long while until there'll be any long form interviews with him again, and sadly interviewers are probably not gonna ask about any of this.

Re: painting or acting, yesterday I read @blueeyesatnight 's That's Not Your Name-Dieter fic (LOVED it, can def recommend it!) and one of the coolest things about Dee's character development there is that it indeed delves into 'okay how did he pick acting versus art' and more background story, plus how in the current day events of the story he is even making his own oil paint. That has become my headcanon now <3

@tessa-quayle I'm so glad you liked my post!! I really really wish that Russell and Robert would do another episode with Pedro. I love Russell in particular (sorta followed his work since Being Human was released, which holy crap was already 15 yrs ago?), but the way they attempted to interview Pedro back then was kind of a hot mess - and I say that lovingly hahaha. They were so enthusiastic that they talked over him so/too many times, so I'd love a tad calmer conversation where P has the opportunity to go more indepth.

@tvversionperson IKR there is SO much plot and character development to be explored with Dieter in that movie, which of course it doesn't have room to delve into but shit I wish they would/could. Or at least to just hear Pedro talk about what his thoughts are on it, because you know he most definitely had Dee's entire back story fleshed out in his head when he shot this movie.

Super long post, but again, I just wanted to thank y'all for the love. This is the first time I've done anything writing wise re: the PP cinematic universe, and all your responses have been so heartwarming and really encouraged me to do more stuff in one way or another with the Pedro boys, be it rabbit hole analysis or fic.

#pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #goya #francisco goya #black paintings #saturn devouring his son #witches sabbath #two old men eating soup #he-goat men #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #art #talk art #painting #oil painting #mural