#the ladies are pretty and the background details are ugly

[gravidasomnia]

Looking back at over a century of personal computers. Yes I know they haven't existed that long. AI doesn't know that.

#AI Art #Stable Diffusion #Pregnancy Art #Unrealistic Retro Computer #Fake Magazine Ads #At this stage it's not even about the kink #this would have been fine without the bellies #but tumblr tells me dont stop doing the bit #trying out different years in the prompt #the ladies are pretty and the background details are ugly

[rivershorerp]

RAY CALHOUN (matthew mcconaughey) is looking for HIS SON/DAUGHTER/CHILD. You NEED TO contact MALBORO at @raycalhoun before applying for this connection. 

To find out more about this connection please click below:

CONNECTION BASICS

Suggested Name: UTP

Age Range: 31-33

Suggested Faceclaims: Any FC that is at least 1/2 White, UTP

Connection Dynamic: They're definitely pretty distant in a sense. However, this character has come to Rivershore to attempt to over see Ray and likely reforge a connection with their father.

CONNECTION DETAILS/BACKGROUND

This connection can be for a child of any gender!

As it comes to being a father, Ray was as involved as most fathers who ran a practice and wrote a very popular teen fiction series were. He was there for their hobbies, and a lot of the important things, but the child was definitely raised by their mother.

Their mother, Ray's ex-wife, is definitely a society lady. I headcanon she married into old money shortly after the divorce from Ray. Their kid was either in college or close to high school graduation when they split and filed for divorce.

There was some fighting between the couple before their split. However, it was nothing that was ugly and didn't seem able to be overcome. Their divorce was likely a shock since Ray and his wife seemed very devoted to each other.

Their kid went on to college, lived a life, and recently the news of Ray's menace (plus the campaign against his novels) has had this character worried for their now very eccentric father.

As for their dynamic now, we can plot it out, but I'd imagine that Ray is probably deeply embarrassing — especially to their mother, his ex-wife. However, I do think the character wants to know their father more deeply since he's been mostly absent except for large events (like a college graduation). He always takes their calls, but he's always doing things.

Ray has a plotted connection with Julie Kim in that he's something like a grandfather/uncle for her child Kip. Ray's made a whole life in Rivershore that is very layered but very different from the life they grew up with. There are similarities, however, with how Ray treats Kip that they see.

I have other headcanons that I would be happy to share: such as, they tend to call Ray when something is broken or they need relationship advice, and he's excellent at both of those things.

THE FOLLOWING DETAILS ARE NOT FLEXIBLE FOR THIS CONNECTION:

The age range, given Ray's timeline. The character must be from Lexington, KY, and hasn't spent a ton of time in Rivershore until they moved here some years (or months!) ago.

The relationship they have with their mother is lot closer than with their father (Ray). The background outlined being a relatively trauma free and stress free environment until the divorce. I am not interested in a super traumatic character for their child.

#wanted

[xopinkroses]

Idiot♥

(Lady x Injured Fem!Reader)

Summary; You and Lady go out on a job together that results in you injured. Lady patches you up in your bathroom, leading to some confessions being made. Word Count; 2496 Warning; Violence, mentions of blood, detailed descriptions of treating wounds, reader wears a bra but other than that could possibly be considered gender neutral, partial nudity (nothing explicit) cursing

MASTERLIST🌸

Lady has been your partner in crime and best friend since the age of five, when she was still going by her old name (which you do not speak of)-- Which meant you were the first person she went to after her father killed her mother. You remembered that night like it happened yesterday, rather than six months ago. You answered your door to a hysterical Lady, blue and red eyes bloodshot and swollen. Her short black hair was a mess, like she had been running her hands through it. You brought her inside and, through her tears, she explained what happened. Over the course of the night a rage began to take root inside of her, her grief and betrayal driving her into a murderous wrath. She didn’t even have to ask you to help her punish the man she once called her father, you were all too willing to accompany her. The ominous demon tower that burst from the ground in the middle of the city, causing mayhem and destruction in its wake, was just a small pin in a pinterest board full of reasons to kill Arkham. School night or not– the bastard had to pay for making your bestie cry!

And now, vengeance achieved and a new friend in Dante gained, you and Lady were professional demon hunters. Still a team, sticking together through thick and thin. You had each other's backs no matter what. Could you really ask for a better partner? But over the past few weeks… something changed– shifted between the two of you. Your feelings had evolved somewhat, you were in love with your best friend. How cliche. 

The tragic part was that you were positive she didn’t return your feelings. To rub salt in the wound, she seemed to be snapping at you more often these days, you could feel the two of you drifting apart and it was taking its toll on you. You felt like you were desperately trying to hold your friendship together with pva glue and things were starting to feel pretty hopeless. 

Dante knew about your feelings, he was surprisingly observant sometimes. Or maybe Lady was just as oblivious as a newborn puppy. Maybe you were as well. Dante had a blast making jokes at your expense, a real good friend he was, but in the end he told you to just woman up and tell her. “What's the worst that can happen?”

You had several things to say to that. None of them positive. But he simply rolled his eyes in response, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Then, by all means, pine from afar.” 

That’s exactly what you planned to do.

You and Lady were hired by a client to clear a small infestation of low level demons that had overtaken his property just outside of town. It was supposed to be easy, but neither of you had expected to walk into a full blown army of demons. A situation that you were normally able to deal with quickly and efficiently, turned very dangerous for the two of you. Things got even more ugly when you were grabbed by the shoulder and pulled into the blur of gnashing teeth and sharp claws. Separated from Lady, you fought for your life in the mosh pit of demons as she tried to clear a path towards you. 

Lady would never admit it, she had a reputation to uphold of course, but she was panicking. You were lost in the carnage of the main hall of the mansion. She'd lost sight of you the second you were grabbed, the only reason she knew you were even still alive was the screaming and yelling she recognised as yours. 

Through sheer grit and determination, the two of you were able to mow down the demon horde. Your every muscle ached and you were covered head to two in demon blood. The carnage around you bled into the background as you laid eyes on Lady. Fierce and stunning, even when tired and filthy. She looked back at you, scanning over your injuries from her position across the room. You knew you must look like a wreck, the adrenaline pumping through your veins was stopping you from feeling your injuries but you knew they had to be bad. 

“You had me worried for a second. Are you okay over there?” Lady called.

A small grin played on your face, you nodded. “Yeah–”

“–Look out!” 

You didn’t see it coming. One minute you were on your feet, the next a demon was tackling you to the ground– it’s fangs ripping into your shoulder. Your scream of pain made Lady see red. She roared in vengeful fury as she darted across the room and threw the demon off of you. She made quick work of it, planting one foot on its back, and sliced its head from its shoulders with the bayonet of Kalina Ann. Blood sprayed over her face, her eyes gleamed dangerously. The savage look on her face only faded when she looked down at you.

You were laying in a crumpled heap on the bloody floor, breathing ragged and eyes wide. You were unable to recover from the surprise attack right away, struggling to regain your composure. You were instinctively holding your shoulder, slowly rising to sit up. 

Lady dropped to her knees beside you, weapons and ammo on her belt clanging as she hit the ground. Her hands swiftly ran over your shaking form to check for injuries. Your body was bruised and covered in scrapes and scratches, but the worst was definitely your shoulder. A jolt of nausea shot through her stomach when she touched your injured shoulder and you let out a cry. 

“Shit, shit!” she yelled. “How badly does it hurt? Do you think it’s broken?”

You groaned and tried to stand, “I’m fine.” You sounded like a liar even to yourself, but you didn’t want to worry her. Underneath the whole tough girl thing Lady had going on… she cared about people. She cared about you. Especially you.

“No, you’re not!” Lady snapped, putting a hand on your chest to push you back down into a sitting position. “Your arm is broken, and you're bleeding!” 

“My arm is not broken,” you rolled your eyes. She pointedly ignored you in favour of fretting over your injuries. It was kind of hard to tell how badly you were bleeding as you were already covered in blood and gore. How much of it was yours? The bite mark was deep and jagged, you needed medical attention. And fast.

With strength unusual of a young woman her size, Lady hoisted you up to your feet. Your uninjured arm was around her shoulders, your weight supported by a hand around your waist, letting you rest against her. You almost fell a few times on your way out of the mansion, but Lady kept you upright as she guided you to her motorcycle. 

Eventually, after a stressful journey full of Lady’s yelling and scolding. You made it back to your shared apartment. It was late and nobody was around, so you didn’t have to worry about that at least. Lady was fuming, her grip tight on your good arm as she pulled you along inside the apartment. You were none too gently taken into the bathroom and forced down onto the closed toilet lid. 

“Sit,” The shorter girl ordered, you knew better than to argue. She rifled around the cabinet under the sink for the first aid kit you had stashed there, letting out a relieved sigh when she found it. You weren’t looking forward to this whatsoever. 

Neither was Lady. The last time you had been in this position was when you patched her leg up after she was stabbed by her father. Not a happy memory, and certainly not one she wanted to relive. But with a job as dangerous as yours, these things were bound to happen. It was a wonder you had both made it this long without any serious injuries. 

“Take your shirt off,” she said, turning on the sink and wetting a rag with cool water. 

You felt your cheeks burn and butterflies erupt in your stomach, with wide eyes you looked up at her in shock.“What?” 

Lady huffed, grumbling to herself while wringing some excess water out of the rag. She turned to you and put a hand on her hip, cocking her head to the side with an impatient look on her face. Youthful features pulled into a scowl. She was struggling to look you in the eye. “Shirt. Off. I need to clean your shoulder and I can’t do that with your shirt in the way.”

A sudden shyness overtook you, your teeth pulled at your bottom lip. You considered the irrational request of asking her to turn around while you stripped off your top, but shook the thought away quickly. Despite years of friendship, Lady had never seen you in any kind of state of undress before; and vice versa. You nodded, reluctant but knowing it was either this or you’d be treating your own injuries. 

Pain seared through your shoulder as you tried to lift your top above your head, Lady watched you struggle for a bit, deliberately keeping her eyes focused above the collarbone, before sighing irritably and stepping forward to help you. She was surprisingly careful while easing your top over your head, she threw it into the corner, the plastic siding of the bathtub being stained red in the process. No doubt that would be a bitch to clean up later. 

“There,” she stated, voice strained as she examined your shoulder with guarded eyes. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and looked away, grabbing the wet rag and manoeuvring herself to stand in between your legs. You let out a hiss as the rag made contact with your wound, the cold feeling of the water mixing with the pain. 

“Sorry,” Lady mumbled weakly. “I’ll try to be careful but I need to clean your shoulder.”

You nodded, “It’s okay… Thanks, Lady.”

“Don’t mention it.”

After the first initial wave of pain, it stopped hurting as much, probably numbed by the cold water. Your skin was broken out in goosebumps and you were shivering slightly. Lady tried to work quickly, cleaning out any dirt that could be inside the cut. She kept a warm, reassuring hand on your biceps the entire time. There was something oddly intimate about the whole thing. You supposed it was the concept of being laid bare and vulnerable, but you trusted Lady. She did her best to remain respectful, keeping her eyes on her work, occasionally moving away to rinse and wring out the, now bloody, rag. This was probably the closest you’d felt to her since before the Temen-ni-gru incident. 

Lady left the rag in the sink, pulling out a small bottle of disinfectant. Before you could stop yourself, soft words began to spill past your lips. “I feel like you’ve been drifting away from me lately.”

Lady didn’t respond straight away, pouring some of the disinfectant onto a clean towel. One that wouldn’t leave any fluffy particles in your injury. She inhaled deeply, like she was mentally preparing herself for the conversation. Worry tangled in your chest.

She didn’t warn you before beginning to disinfect your shoulder, making you yelp in pain. You held onto Lady’s arm, not letting go even after the burning sensation became more bearable. You were starting to think she wasn’t going to respond to your earlier statement, but after throwing the towel in the laundry basket, she turned to you and said,

“I’m sorry.”

You blinked, “It’s okay, it didn’t hurt that bad–”

“Not for the disinfectant, you moron,” she rubbed her forehead. “For… I don’t know, being– distant? I don’t mean to be, it’s just… Nothing, forget I said anything.”

“What? What is it?” You urged her to keep talking. You took her hands in yours, squeezing them. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

The two of you had been through so much together, your lives so intertwined that it wouldn’t make sense for you to ever separate. Surely what she had to say couldn’t be that bad, right? Her hesitance to share made you a bit nervous, it wasn’t like her to be so secretive.

“I love you,” Lady blurted. 

Her eyes went wide and she bowed her head down to avoid your gaze. Uncharacteristically shy, the fair skin of her cheeks flushed pink. 

“I love you too,” you said. “You’re my best friend, and–”

“No,” Lady snapped, freeing her hands from your grip and stepping away to turn her back to you. “No, it’s… it’s different.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Careful as to not bother your shoulder, you stood up to match her height. “How so?”

With a shaky breath, Lady gathered her strength and faced you once more. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Time froze for a second, or minutes, or days. You stared at your closest and dearest friend in utter disbelief. She loved you back. You had never even considered the possibility of your feelings for Lady being mutual, but it seemed that she had been under the same assumption. Two halves of a whole idiot. Dante was going to have a field day making fun of you later. 

Lady seemed to take your silence as you not returning her feelings, instantly her guard went back up. “You know what, never mind– it’s fine, I shouldn’t have even sai–”

You didn’t let her finish her sentence before you leaned forward and connected your lips with hers. The kiss was short and sweet, you pulled back before she could really react. With a smile, you held onto her shoulders. “Lady, I love you too.”

Lady’s face lit up in a grin, like she couldn’t believe it. “Seriously?”

At your nod, she crashed her lips against yours, holding your face in her hands. You giggled against her lips, wrapping your good arm around her neck. A weight had been lifted from you, it was like you were breathing for the first time in weeks. Your friend didn’t hate you, and she loved you back? Your giggling was contagious and soon Lady was also laughing with you, both embracing each other and just bathing in the warm, fuzzy feeling you were sharing. 

It was that moment that you remembered that you were standing in only your bra and a deep flush crept up over your cheeks. You slapped a hand over your mouth, “I should probably put a shirt on.”

Lady flicked your forehead, “Way to ruin the moment. I need to bandage you first, you idiot.”

Things weren’t going to be the same as before, but you were okay with that. You had the feeling that life was only going to get better with your partner at your side.

~ 🖤

#devil may cry #dmc #lady x reader #devil may cry x reader #dmc imagines #dmc lady #dmc x reader

[watching-pictures-move]

Put On Your Raincoats | She's No Angel (Costello, 1976)

While this is not the best movie I've seen from Shaun Costello, it does exhibit some of his classic street level style. Of course we get the usual guerilla-style street scenes, with that sense of movement that gives his movies a certain jittery energy. But this one also opens with Alexandria Case talking on the phone, making references to Margaret Trudeau and Bianca (presumably Jagger), while looking down at New York City from her high rise apartment. High life. High rise. Get it? Listen, this is a glib visual pun for sure, but which other scumfuck pornographer is giving you juxtapositions like these? Joe Davian? Phil Prince? I don't think so. There are many rats in the gutter, but this one has more style than the others. And lest you think he's settling for just that punchline, he has Case make love to her psychiatrist boyfriend played by himself, all while we look out towards the city in the background.

He cuts between that scene and another sex scene between Marlene Willoughby and a clean shaven Ashley Moore, a tactic that normally sucks the life out of these things, but works well here because Costello lets both play out for long enough between switching between them, and also because the ladies are quite attractive and the guys are quite a bit more presentable than the average schlub in these things. (I should however note that the flatulent electronic beeps on the soundtrack are a really poor choice to accompany a doggystyle scene.) Costello himself has a much softer, more sympathetic screen presence than the scuzziness of his movies would suggest. Case I'd apparently seen before in A Night to Dismember, and while I do not remember the particular qualities of her performance there, at least one quality stood out to me here, namely that she's really freaking hot. (Sorry, I promised I'd be less thirsty in my reviews going forward, and I apologize for my moment of weakness in finding the porno lady attractive. I promise to do better.) And we get a fun hammy villainous performance with Willoughby.

The plot here concerns Willoughby and Moore trying to get their teenage stepdaughter Sharon Mitchell committed to an institution so they can steal her inheritance. An early scene between them has Mitchell arguing with Willoughby while the latter wears a see-through negligee. It is not a convincing portrayal of familial relations, although the movie declines to deliver on a sex scene between them. Willoughby tries to make the case for her nymphomania, describing in great detail a group sex scene between Mitchell, a friend and two ugly mustachioed basketball players. "She wants two cocks, doctor. At the same time. I mean, one cock might be enough for me, doctor, but she wants TWO dicks." Costello suspects something is up, and he can best be described as medium smart, smart enough to suspect Willoughby and Moore have ulterior motives, but not smart enough to question how Willoughby was able to witness this scene in such detail. He goes on to investigate, and Costello as he does elsewhere uses the procedural element to give the movie structure and forward momentum. The intended audience probably didn't care too much about the plot here, but it does make it easier to sit through. Like many of Costello's movies, the subject matter here is pretty distasteful, and any warmth is undercut by the sleazy lizard-brained punchline this ends on, but the ugliness is alleviated by the game cast as well as the "How do you do fellow kids" energy Mitchell brings to her role.

#film #put on your raincoats #movie review #she's no angel #shaun costello

[sleepymarmot]

The Phantom Menace rewatch (liveblog + notes)

Unlike the OT, I’m rewatching the prequel trilogy fully and in order. Let’s see if I regret my decision...

Liveblog:

Wow, this opening crawl is extremely hard to read.

Bear with me as I try to understand the plot in real time. Alright, so Palpatine 1) Orchestrates the blockade as Sidious 2) Sends the Jedi to break the blockade as the Chancellor 3) Pretends he didn’t expect the Jedi, and orders to escalate and invade Naboo, and kill the Jedi Or is the chancellor they’re referring to someone else? Is this a ploy to assassinate these two Jedi specifically for some reason?

Do they have super-speed for this scene only?

The designs are also ugly but in a different way from the OT

“The negotiations were short” lmao

Oh alright, Palpatine is a Senator, and the Chancellor is a different guy. But which one is higher?

I appreciate that the politics are actually confusing, instead of just one bad faction vs one good faction

WHY ARE QUI-GON AND JAR JAR HAVING A SEXY MEET CUTE And Jar Jar immediately says “I love you”. What is happening

Alright by WHY does he speak like this. Is this a dialect of the common language? Is everyone else using a translator machine while Jar Jar actually learned the language so he makes mistakes?

I am so grateful for the subtitles lmao

R2-D2 looks kind of weird. Different sort of plastic? CGI?

Why did the decoy queen send the real queen to clean a droid?

I wonder if the guard captain (? or whatever his job is, the cute black guy) knows which one the queen is.

God she’s SO tiny. Who the hell elected this child?! A child on the throne of a hereditary monarchy makes sense, a child princess too; but a democratically elected head of the state?!

Oh Ani that’s a terrible line lmao This has the energy of baby clothes that say “ladies’ man” etc

Anakin is such a friendly, outgoing child 😭

“Your son was kind enough to offer us shelter :)” flash forward for how the Jedi order and the universe in general repays him...

The C-3P0/R2-D2 meet cute is much better than the anidala one!

“I had a dream I was a Jedi. I came back here and freed all the slaves.” 😭😭😭

“Mom, you say the biggest problem in this universe is nobody helps each other.” 😭

“He was meant to help you.” What the hell is that supposed to mean?

They’re really staking the entire mission on a 9 year old winning a deadly race huh

Omg I’ve forgotten about the immaculate conception lmao. How did the EU explain that one?

“I wanna be the first one to see ‘em all.” Well, that is his name...

Wait is that Warwick Davis in the background

Well that race got mildly interesting only about halfway through.

“Why do I sense we’ve picked up another pathetic life-form?” I think it’s pretty interesting how the two Jedi have a mutual, usually unspoken understanding that they’re above everyone and everything else.

I’m crying again looking at Shmi’s face. She knows they’re leaving her behind because she’s not valuable to anyone but herself and her son. In slavery, alone, with nobody to live for or to help her now. (And what she doesn’t know, but Qui-Gon does, is that he angered her slaveowner before leaving. I bet he’s going to take it out on her.)

“Will I ever see you again?” 😭😭😭

Lmao was this scene meant to mirror ANH? Leia’s planet has been destroyed, and she’s giving Luke a blanket; Padme’s planet is being decimated, and she’s giving Anakin a blanket. Sexism is like poetry, it rhymes...

“Many things will change when we reach the capital, Ani, but my caring for you will remain” What’s that supposed to mean? (This is an endearing scene of friendship and solidarity between two kids used as pawns by the cynical adults... Until the weird romance angle comes in again. The boy is nine, George!!!)

I like the parallel scenes of the two ineffective bureaucracies.

Yoda looks much better than in the OT. Is it CGI? Or a very good puppet with CGI enhancements? There’s so much detail in his eyes and ears, I don’t believe it’s a puppet only!

Did they really greenscreen and CGI the green hills?

Finally a proper fucking sword fight! Which is also accompanied by a rare memorable music theme. Maul’s martial arts style is noticeably different from the others, which is neat. He jumps and twirls like a dancer.

This part of the plot is very immersive because I, like Anakin, have no idea what the point of the space battle is. I’m sure it was explained before but I missed it. Oh so he could disable the autopilot at any time? He just went along with it to see what’s the destination? lmao “Qui-Gon told me to stay in this cockpit, so that's what I’m gonna do.” Well that's a very creative interpretation of his instructions lol Did Ani accidentally infiltrate the enemy base? Good for him! The station falling apart is one of the few good special effects in this movie.

“...grave danger I fear in his training.” *the Imperial march plays*

---

Notes after watching:

Well. 60% the worst movie you’ve ever seen, 20% okay, 10% interesting ideas some of which may or may not upset a fan of the OT, 10% crying your face off because of the dramatic irony.

The most interesting part with perhaps the most far-reaching consequences is the ideology of the film, which is very different from what the viewer could expect after the OT. The film draws a clear parallel between the ongoing fall of the Republic and the impending fall of the Jedi order, brought about by their own internal problems. The Jedi are shown as ineffective at best and actively heartless at worst. Two extremely disadvantaged people help Qui-Gon out of the goodness of their hearts, and in return he exploits them with the pragmatism worthy of a Sith Lord. But the structure of the film still positions the Jedi as “good guys”, giving no meaningful alternative for them. So it’s natural the audience would react like “But the Jedi are heroes! They’re noble and spiritual! What is this bureaucratic nonsense?!” and some of them would proceed to think “Well, the story says they’re heroes, so they’re actually justified in everything. All of these flaws are excusable.” And it’s very unclear what the intended takeaway from all of this was. Was the viewer supposed to leave the theater thinking “Damn, it’s a shame the Jedi are so fucked up. The only one who sees this kid as a person is another child trapped in the adults’ political schemes. So that’s what puts him on the path from being an idealistic, compassionate child to Darth Vader”? Or were the kids still supposed to want to be a Jedi, like they presumably did after the OT? You know what, this actually makes me appreciate the anti-TLJ crowd. They openly say: “I think the way Luke was written in this film was stupid and OOC. It offends me as a fan. This is not my Luke. I refuse to consider this film a part of my personal canon.” Straightforward and honest. So why can’t the (admittedly overlapping faction of) Jedi apologists just say that they don’t like the prequels? That trilogy is widely hated. If you say “I think the prequels were badly written, so I prefer to ignore their existence altogether”, I’m sure many would sympathize. So why not just say that, instead of defending the ways in which the Jedi order and its members were obviously in the wrong?

Both the cinematography and the image quality are strangely worse than the original trilogy. I was watching a 1080p BluRay rip, so the fault wasn’t there. Out of the environments, Coruscant was my favorite. The interiors look very plastic, which makes the scenes filmed on location in some normal palace look out of place.

Jar Jar’s people are a “primitive tribe” caricature, and their speech is nigh incomprehensible. Ani’s slaveowner seems to be an antisemitic caricature. Naboo is a planet of mostly white people and Mediterranean architecture... and fashion borrowing from Asia, mostly Japan; it’s like the costume designed visited a museum recently. (Apparently the Trade Federation guys are a racist stereotype too but I’m not familiar that one.)

Putting the spotlight on the most experienced actor was a good move, at least. In the end, it seems like Qui-Gon is the protagonist of this movie, not anyone who is in other installments.

Jake Lloyd’s acting didn’t bother me at all. Even looking at the documentary — alright, so another kid at the audition (5:32 in the documentary) had a stronger reading of a line that was unsalvageably awful anyway. So what? He seems older, maybe that’s why he’s better; it would be simply a slightly different dynamic if Anakin were not tiny enough to stumble over words. Besides, Natalie Portman was an established teenage actress, and her performance was also flat as hell. Meanwhile, the adults Neeson and McGregor were doing just fine. I think it’s clear where the blame lies here...

I still don’t understand what Palpatine’s scheme was. To get elected chancellor, he needed the queen’s instigation, so was letting her escape the plan from the beginning?

Who is the target audience for this movie? The OT was clearly for children. In this one, the kids would be bored by the politics, and the adults by the juvenile humor.

Ironically, I came out of this thinking the Jedi Council was right. If being a nine year old who misses his mother disqualifies one from their militant religious order, then maybe it would be best for everyone if he could keep living his life without their bullshit.

Anyway the most fun part of this experience was listening to the corresponding episode of A More Civilized Age, which was really healing after some of the bizarre takes on the Jedi I’ve seen on here.

I’m also grateful to them for pointing me towards the making-of documentary. A few short notes about it: watching McGregor’s nice hair being cut into that horrible style was almost physically painful; watching the actors rehearse the lightsaber fights was magical; the footage of the premiere left me with mixed feelings because of the secondhand embarrassment and dread of an impending trainwreck on one side, and the nostalgia of attending fandom film premieres myself in the past.

#star wars #blah blah blah

[gleviachain]

1st Art of 2023, 100 First Artworks and a Look Back (Number 93)

93. Claw Lady and Smoking Girl in: Jeanne Mammen Defamation

Another one of my favorites pieces, I like what I did with one, but that might mostly be due to art which inspired it. While searching for interesting artists, I came across Jeanne Mammen, a German painter from 20th century, and enjoyed her work. Particularly her painting of two women on a pier (example below), it was so charming, the inspirational seed has been planted right away.

I naturally thought about Claw Lady in this vein, but to give my 'faithful' homage to Jeanne Mammen, it takes two women, and because the Smoking Girl was the other favorite of mine, it was set. I think this is a rather solid, simplistic piece that's heavily reliant on the fantastic painting it's inspired by. It's not an original and that is true, it's my take of the painting, and it lacks several things to be truly great. There's a difference in used colors, used a more 'colder' mellow palette, and the background is straight out ugly and downright empty - aside from that lousy boat. Maybe I didn't want to blatantly copy the German painter's work and just focus on characters, that's more or less a reason why the scenery is so barren, another lesser reason was the lack of ideas for background people and elements. When it comes to the main girls, I think they're pictured pretty alright, even fine (especially like the Claw Lady's expression), but their overall design might be called unfinished, as it's quite simple and not complexed and that may be the issue. I thought that adding more details and such would ruin the Jeanne Mammen style I was going here for. From the other things, that smoke is horrible and lousy. I can't draw smoke. Also the pier fence has more polish than the characters. Never thought that coming back to one my favorite artwork would make so ruthless. I really like this piece, but I can't deny there are flaws.

Keeping the style, expressions and colors took a while, but it was worth it.

#art #artwork #digitalart #digital art #digital #digital drawing #digital illustration #illustration #original art #originalart #instagram #instaart #instagramart #myart #my art #my artwork #myartwork #character #oc #character design #original character #original characters #remake #jeanne mammen #reference #inspiration #tumblr art #visualart #visual art #abstract

[nightowlfandom]

Yandere! Hawks (Keigo Takami) - Scratches and Bruises

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright I’ll do it...I’LL WRITE HAWKS SMUT....but I won’t like it.

Okay people so This is gonna have talks of death, abuse, yandere shit.

Leggo!

...

“What’s a pretty girl like you do sad for?”

You looked up from your phone to find a man practically leaning over the restaurant table. You could smell the alcohol from miles away and the way he was moving wasn’t helping his case either. You were instantly put off by him. Correction: You were disgusted by him.

“What’s a ugly man like you so bold for?” you smiled sweetly as the venom dripped off your words. “I’m really not interested.” you looked back down at your phone. You were just about to get a new high score on your favorite phone game and this asshole was ruining your chances. Your character almost died twice since he began bothering you. It was really starting to get on your nerves. If you didn’t unlock that new skin, you might kill someone.

“Oh come on.” he slurred. “Can a guy just compliment such a pretty lady?”

“Not when he looks like fucking Voldemort.” you replied just as quickly as he ended his sentence. “You’re kind of bothering me right now.” you pressed pause on your game and looked up again. “I’ll ask again. What do you want, seriously?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a guy at one of the booths, staring over at you. It didn’t feel creepy, but it was enough to capture your attention. 

“I wanted to-”

“What do you want?” you cut him off again. “We’re wasting time here.” you threw your phone on the table. “Save me the headache and save your ego...” you crossed your arms. you faked a smile. “Goodbye.”

“You bit-”

“Is there a problem?” 

A new person walked up to you two. The same guy who you had noticed before stopped in front of your table. He had sandy brown hair, and very sharp looking eyes. You swore you’ve seen him somewhere. You weren’t too sure.

“Nothing buddy, just about to show this bitch who she’s talking to-”

You crossed your arms and shifted around in your seat. “I mean I don’t need to be shown anything.” you shrugged.

“Oh are you?” he laughed. “Well I hate to break it to you but I’ll have to intervene” the stranger laughed out loud. 

“What do you mean-”

The drunk was instantly floored as this stranger grabbed his by the neck and slammed his face against the table not even an inch away from your phone. The drunk landed on the floor with a thud, moaning in pain. You weren’t even sure if he was registering the pain he was in or the fact that he had gotten his ass handed to him in the first place. All that you knew was that he was being peeled off the floor and escorted (more like thrown out.).

“You’re welcome, lady.” the guy didn’t take another look at you before be took a step forward. 

“I didn’t need your help.” you snatched your phone off the desk. “I can take care of myself.” you rolled your eyes. “And I wasn’t gonna thank you, either.” you stood up. “I’m definitely not going to now.”

The man slowly turned around, revealing his face clearly. “Oh really?” 

He was attractive, no doubt about it. His tight black muscle tee with baggy jeans and boots...damn he was a looker. Yet you weren’t like most MC’s...it would take a bit more than that for him to have any impact on you.

“Really.” you repeated. You put a hand on your hip. “Now if you���ll excuse me...I’m off to find another table to sit at.”

The man who ‘saved’ you didn’t take his eyes off you all night. Even when your friends came and joined you. 

“Hey Y/N, is that Keigo Takami looking at you?”

“I think it is!” another friend piped.

“Who?” you stared at her as you lowered your drink. “Who is Keigo Takami?”

“Y’know...Hawks.” she whispered. “I heard they call him that when he served time...” 

“He’s a literally crazy person. He’s an absolute menace! He’s a former hero...”

“Can imagine why...he beat the shit out of this guy who tried to hit on me.”

“Him?! I haven’t heard of him ever doing that for anyone before.” your other friend widened her eyes. “Y/N, I’ve heard of his past relationships...they didn’t end well. They all ended up missing...or in therapy.”

“I can take care of myself.” you shrugged. “I’m sure whatever Hawks has for me, I can take.”

“Don’t say that so freely, Girl. I heard he has a lot of screws loose.” your friend put a hand on your shoulder. “Like a lot.”

“Well whatever Mr. Man has in store for me, I’ll be prepared. It can’t be that bad, right?” your confidence dispersed a little bit. You looked behind you back at Keigo who had been cracking open a can of beer. He looked a little to interested in his own world to see you staring. 

“Y/N...Y/N!” your friend snapped her fingers in your face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah!” You focused back on your friends, feeling your emotions sort of switch. 

From the corner of the room, Keigo’s eyes followed you. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you. Never in his life had he ever seen a girl like you before. He had never been so...fascinated either. Something inside him snapped, he had to get to know you.

He had to.

...

“Is there a reason  you’re following me?”

On a trip to the supermarket, you couldn’t help but voice your opinions. Keigo was hiding in behind a display of cans whilst you stared at the cheese. Hmmm Cheddar or American? Maybe Havarti! Hmm Pepperjack? Why were there too many types of cheeses?! Too many options!

“You have a very keen eye.” he revealed himself. “I like that.” he began walking along side down down the aisle. “Try this one, it’s the best on burgers.” he grabbed a package of Pepperjack cheese and tossed it in the cart.

“I’m just very aware.” you replied boredly. “It comes with the territory.” you opted to ignore him trying to shop for you. 

“Of being a hero?” 

His words made you freeze. You hadn’t been a hero in years, let along thought about it. It had been so long...

“I hung up my cape years ago.” you rebutted. Your tried to keep your voice steady, but he could tell his words affected you. It made you wonder how he even knew that.

“I can say the same.” he winked. “Only I traded the cape for...other things.”

“I can tell...Hawks.” you grumbled in reply. “That’s what they used to call you right?”

Keigo knew you were challenging him. Part of him was angry, others not so much. He was interested to say the least. No one dared call him that anymore. Hell, no one lived long enough to even finish such a sentence. What made you so different? You had guts...he liked that.

“Yeah...that part of my life is over now.” he began following you down the aisle. “What about you? Why’d you give up hero work?”

“That’s not something I want to discuss with a stranger in the middle of the store.” 

“I get it...how’s 7:00 sound?”

“Pardon me?” You and your cart skid to a stop. “What did you just say to me?”

“I’ll meet you at the bar we met around 7! Don’t be late, and tell the bartender Takami Keigo is gonna be waitin’ for ya.” he winked. “Don’t leave me waiting princess...”

“I don’t even know you!” you were taken aback. “You don’t even know my name...”

Keigo’s face twisted into a smirk. He took a step towards you. You flattened yourself against the aisle wall as he trapped you against the cereal. “So tell me...What’s your name?”

“Huh?!”

“For a hero...you’re pretty dense.” he chuckled, nearing his face closer. “I asked your name, Hun.” he winked. “Won’t you tell me?”

“Y/N.” you replied breathlessly. “My name is Y/N.” Why did you tell him that, you had no clue. Idiot!

“Okay then Y/N.” he neared his face towards yours. “7:00 tonight...okay?”

“Uh huh.” you nodded. 

“Wonderful, I’ll see you tonight, princess.”

... 

You sat at the bar stool, spinning around lazily. You called all of your friends, your parents, hell even your grandparents. You didn’t tell them the details, but you told them if you didn’t message them back by 9:00 AM the next morning, call you just in case.

“What can I get you?” the barkeep walked up, wearing a kind smile on his face. You suddenly remembered that Keigo had told you, and you didn’t trust it one bit. “Can I get a water please?” 

“Coming right up, young lady.” the older man kindly looked at you. “Anything for the former Number 1 hero!”

You giggled bashfully. “Please, that was years ago.” you shook your head. “I appreciate it though.” you smiled. Hero work, the bane of your existence. Your past buddies and partners had all begged you not to leave, but with the amount of scars and suffering you endured, you had no choice.

You wouldn’t put yourself through that again, not for anyone. 

“Here you are miss.” the glass was set in front of you. 

“Thanks.” you put your hand over the top of the glass. Now that it was in yoru hand, you could move accordingly. “I was also supposed to meet someone here?...Told me to tell you to expect me...Keigo Takami?”

The barkeep’s face fell, fear striking his features. “O-oh! You’re Mr. Takami’s company for the night! I’m supposed to escort you to his special booth.”

“Special booth?” you repeated.

“Y-yes, please follow me!” he urged. “Only VIPs are allowed back here, but he rented out the entire back area just for you!”

You felt your senses go off, fight or flight mode. Now or never. You reached in your purse. Knife, check. Mace, check....Gun...check.

The kind barkeep took you to a back area. It looked like the main dining area, only a lot more high end. Slow jazz music was playing in the background and the lights were low. He was right, there was no one here...except one person.

He dawned a brown leather jacket, black skinny jeans and those all to familiar boots. He tapped his fingers against the table as he stared down at his phone.

“Mr. Takami. She’s here.”

Keigo looked up with that shit-eating smirk. “Thank you Hideo, leave us.”

The barkeep stalked off leaving you alone. You suddenly felt out of place. You looked around, taking note of the city beaming outside the windows. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” 

You looked back over at Keigo again, almost surprised. “Yeah, it is.” you nodded.

He motioned next to him. “You wanna sit down or are you gonna stand there staring at me? I don’t bite.” he winked.

Silently, you sat down, still keeping your distance from the man. You were about a good two feet away from him. You weren’t too keen on getting any closer.

“I’m surprised you came. I thought you’d find a way to get out of this.”

“I am too, but I figured I’d entertain this idea...just for tonight.” you shrugged. “Don’t try anything, got it?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Keigo cracked a genuine smile. You looked stunning and he wanted to tell you that. He wouldn’t admit it, but he knew about you when you were going by your hero alias. He recognized the way you walked, the way you spoke. You could have killed that freak who hit on you if you wanted to. However you didn’t. He was curious about that.

“Why did you ask me out?” you raised an eyebrow before he could get a word out.

“I’ll let you know in a minute.” he winked. “I’m more interested in you.”

“Like what?” you raised an eyebrow. “How interesting can I be?”

Keigo didn’t want to say he did extensive research on you and couldn’t find shit. It drove him crazy. It was making him go quite literally insane. He was more that interested. He was invested. When he didn’t answer, you sighed.

“You tell me first.” you crossed your arms. “I know your reputation proceeds you.” you raised a brow.

“Princess, that’s not how this works.” he tried to sound as if he was joking. “I ask the questions here.”

“Well it is today.” you shrugged. “Either we have an even exchange or you’re out of luck.” you shrugged. “You decide.”

Keigo stared blankly at you. You were a tough nut, that was for sure. Plus you sure as hell weren’t afraid of death. That must have meant you had no idea what he was capable of. Then again, it must have been your Hero Side taking a stance.

After what felt like a minute, he sighed in defeat. “...A friend of mine was killed by a hero.” he confessed. “You ever hear of someone called The Bronze Monk?”

“That name sounds familiar?” you raised an eyebrow. “He’s another hero, right? He can turn his fists into bronze.” You tried to recall.

“Mhm...He killed my friend.” Keigo clenched his fist. “I did 6 years because of him....”

“I don’t understand.” you raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with you?”

“This was while you were dominating the game I guess, so I don’t blame you for not knowing.” he shrugged and he slapped a hand on the table. “HIDEO! TWO BEERS.”

“So I’m confused. I heard The Bronze Monk died mysteriously...he fell from over 500 stories...”you paused. You took to time to noticed that Keigo has aired out his wings this time around. You didn’t even noticed he HAD wings. “It was all over the-...wait a second...You never said who your friend was.”

“She was a- she was a villain.” Keigo sighed. “She was like a sister to me and I was tryna get her to stop being so dumb...turn over a new leave and she was doing so well! Shit, but...one day she dumbly got into a fight with that asshole and I watched my friend die right there.” Keigo hitched his words slightly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” you said sadly, regretting opening your big mouth. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No...it’s fine. I guess in order to move on I gotta talk about it right?” he sat up straight as the barkeep came back with two mugs and quickly stalked back off. “I was so blinded by my own anger. What type of hero would go out of their way to punish someone trying to make amends....” he seethed. “I flew him up to the tallest building in the city and dropped him...I only got off on good behavior...”

It finally all made sense, to you at least. You let what he said marinate and sit well...it felt surreal.

“So.” Keigo grabbed his glass and took a huge gulp. “I’ve said my peace. You’re turn.”

You stared at this guy for what felt like ages. Something told you that this guy couldn’t be trusted. All the alarms were going off at the same time...but for some reason-

“My parents wanted me to be a hero.” you said. “My quirk is hereditary, so it’s passed from person to person.” you shrugged. “I loved saving people, helping people...then-” you paused. “I saw how corrupt, and hateful, and disgusting these so-called heroes were...I lost someone important to me too.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow, suddenly interested. You took a swig of beer, trying to gather your thoughts. 

Keigo took note of the way you were fiddling with your left hand. Your thumb grazed over your ringer finger as if something was missing...something important.

“Who was the guy?” Keigo asked, snapping you out of your trance. He had a gut feeling he already knew, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“...H-he was um...we dated since high school.” you shrugged. “We were a team, him and I.” you smiled at the memory. “When he turned his back on the hero world, they turned their back on him too.”

“Meaning?”

“They sold him out.” you choked. “They left him for dead and told me he would be okay. I should have gone back for him but they held me back, they told me there were other people that needed my help.”

“What happened when you learned the truth?” Keigo asked. He only knew that a poor hero lost his life, he didn’t know that the only other survivor just so happened to be his future wife.

“I had to choose...my friends and my morals or being a hero. If anyone knows just how two faced and conniving these people are, it’s me.” you shuddered. “I’ve met traitors, and killers disguised as good guys. At one point I couldn’t take it anymore and I gave up! Forget being number 1, forget status, forget everything...Being a hero...lost me everything.”

“Hm. Thank you for sharing that with me, Princess.” he replied. “It must have been hard to do...it’s nice to know you trust me so much.”

“It was only fair, I guess.” you boredly drank. “It not that big a deal.” you stared down at your fingers. “It was years ago, I’ve moved on.”

Keigo took note of how your mood faltered. He couldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me?”

“Hm?” you looked up from your glass.

“I’m sure where ever your fiancé is, whatever he’s up to. He doesn’t blame you.” he put a hand over yours. “He wouldn’t hate you for moving on either.”

“He wouldn’t?” you narrowed your eyes. “How do you know?”

Keigo couldn’t answer, he just wanted to say something, anything, to put a smile on your face. It was like a second nature in such a short time. He wanted to be your hero. “It’s just a hunch...you shouldn’t be afraid to move on...sometimes all you need is a push out the nest.” he winked as his wings twitched behind his back.

“Bird humor? Really?” you scoffed.

“It’s what I do, princess.”

...

After the heavy and depressing, you don’t think you laughed that hard in years. 

“Wait hold on.” you stopped laughing. “Pause for a minute! You, with those big ass wings got your ass handed to you by some chump named ‘The weather man?’” you were crying from laughing so hard.

“He could control the wind!” he defended, also laughing. “You shoulda seen it!”

“Well maybe you need to exercise your quirk more.” you crossed your arms.

“As if you’re the master of your own.” he playfully rolled his eyes.

“As a matter of fact, I am!” you raised an eyebrow. “Shall I demonstrate?” you scooted out the booth and stood up. “Don’t blink or you might miss it.”

Keigo leaned back in his seat, now very interested in what you were about to display for him. He watched your eyes narrow in focus as you held your hands out in front of your face. Slowly, a very tiny tornado formed in your hands, small and handheld. This mini tornado was soon replaced by a tree sprouting out of the top. You waved your hand around and miraculously summoned rain out of your palm. 

“Okay Y/N, focus.” you mumbled. Suddenly, out of everything, a flame erupted from the center of your hand. 

He watched in awe, he had never heard of anyone with a quirk like this one before. With another flick of the hand, everything you had summoned disappeared. “Ta-da!”

“That was amazing.” he commented as your sat down. “What was that??”

“I come from a long line of ‘benders’. Funny name, I know.” you giggled. “I can bend another element...spirit. I can only do it when I’m really happy though.”

“Why didn’t you try that one?”

“...I said I can only do it when I’m happy.” you smiled sadly. It didn’t take long for Keigo to catch on. 

“Oh.” he raised a brow. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s alright.” you shook your head. “Ever since...he died...I’ve never been able to do it.” you shrugged. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to.”

“I’d love to witness that.” Keigo laced his fingers within yours, making your face heat up. “I bet it’s beautiful.”

“...S-shush.” you scoffed, looking away bashfully.

Suddenly the song changed, a slow jazz song began playing. A slow beat, with soft drums and what you could describe as a romantic saxophone.

“Dance with me.” he held out his hand. 

You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully as you took his hand and stood up. He guided you to the middle of the floor. he pulled you flush against his chest. The slow music seemed to drown out the hustle of the city noise outside. He hummed thoughtfully, singing to the tune for you. 

“You never told me.” you mused as you two moved in sync.

“Told you what, princess?”

“Why did you ask me out?”

“Truth be told, something drew me to you.”

“Like what?” you innocently stared. “What about me could possibly interest you?”

“Out of everything you’ve told me, everything really.” he bit his lip. “You’re amazing, everything about you.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself, Keigo.” you shyly replied. You turned around and rested your back against his chest. He rested his head in the divot of your shoulder. He wrapped his arms around your waist, guiding you along to the music. 

He was right, he wouldn’t leave you, not now. Not ever. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it, princess.”

“If I admitted I was wrong about you, would you hold it against me?”

Keigo nearly froze. A shock was sent up his spine as the words left your lips. “You shouldn’t say things like that, princess.”

“How come?” you turned around to face him. 

“I want to-” he bit his lip. A gentle hand rested on the base of your neck, his thumb caressing your throat. He laid a kiss on your lips, passion dripping off of every peck. His tongue slipped through the small gap as he moaned against your mouth. You whimpered and shivered feeling his tongue dominate your mouth. He responded with sounds of his own. Shaky breathes and low groans.

You responded to his touch, allowing his hands to travel under your shirt. “Keigo.” you whimpered. Your feverishly ran your hands through his hair, practically gluing your bodies together. You felt his fingertips creep under shirt, dancing across your skin. “W-we can’t do this here.”

“You’re totally right.” he didn’t cease, instead opting to kiss down your neck. “So...my place or yours.”

You felt yourself lose all sense of direction. “Y-yours.”

“You’ve just opened up Pandora’s Box, princess.”

...

You fell back on his bed, crawling backwards. He rid himself of that jacket and his shirt, leaving him to flex his muscles, his wings, and everything. You stared up, trembling in anticipation. 

Your friends would probably kill you, but you didn’t particularly care. You hugged yourself, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. 

Keigo loved it. It meant you still had innocence flowing in your veins, not for long. He would toy with your brain. He would bend you to his will and drive you insane with lust. You would be the perfect sidekick for him. He stalked over to you, biting his lip. 

“Look at you.” he mused. “You’re so cute.” he giggled. He rested a knee at the edge of the bed, beginning to crawl towards you. 

You noticed his wings were spread wide, covering over you two like a shield.

“C-can I?”

“Go ahead Princess.” he smiled knowingly. He had the look as if he knew something you didn’t. You reached a trembling hand to gently brush his beautiful feathers. A low groan erupted from his throat.

“Oh my gosh! Am I hurting you?” you almost withdrew your hand back.

“Don’t stop...please.” he growled lowly. 

It was only then you realized, this was turning him on. You ran your hands through his feathers. They were soft, shiny even. 

“Enough!” he grabbed your hand and pinned it above your head. “Look at you, princess. All ready for me.” he laughed. “I wonder how wet I can make that pussy for me.” he used his other hand to fumble with the button of your jeans.

You trembled under his touch, feeling your pants slide down your legs. You were completely drowned in your own lust. A fire was prominent in your chest. You were shaking under his fingertips. 

“Enjoy this, princess.” he winked before crawling down. He lifted your shirt up and planted little kisses along your stomach. He grabbed the hem of your panties with his teeth and pulled them down. 

You were squirming in anticipation, waiting. 

“You smell so...so-” he didn’t finish his sentence because he had drove his tongue up your slit. A gasp escaped your lungs. Absentmindedly, you had grabbed a fist full of his hair. 

“Fuuuh~” you couldn’t speak. You weren’t even sure he’d be able to hear your over the sound of your wetness. You could feel your water dribble down your thighs. 

“Wrapped your legs around my head.” he growled, digging his nails into your thighs. “Grind that pussy against my tongue, princess.” 

You thrashed against his mouth, feeling warmth gather in the pit of your stomach. “Keigo!”

He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, making you cry out even louder. 

Keigo felt himself lose touch with everything, he was only focused on you in the moment. Fuck, was he hard too. Hearing your moans. Shit, he couldn’t wait to bury himself into you. 

“Baby, do you hear that?” he looked up at you as he promptly replaced his tongue with his fingers. “Listen.” he pumped his fingers into you. “You sound so fucking cute” he groaned, mimicking your soft whimpers. “It feels good, yeah?”

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded. 

Suddenly, he yanked his fingers out of you. His head fell forward to rest on your pubic bone. He sounded as if he came just now even if it was you getting all the pleasure. 

Like a predator stalking after it’s prey he meet your eyes. He wore a sadistic grin with his bottom lip taken between his teeth. He sat up, fumbling with his belt buckle. 

“You ready for me, princess?”

“Yes, p-please?” you whimpered. 

Fuck, you couldn’t do that to him. He had a mind to tear you apart where you lay. Your jaw went slack as his cock was released from its restraints. Would that even- Inside you?! 

You felt it brush against you, slightly. You met his eyes and froze there. He was staring down at you. He looked absolutely feral. You could barely look away as he slid himself inside your throbbing hole. He painfully slowly rolled his hips into you. He twitched inside as he bucked his hips into you. 

“Look at how good we fit together. That’s right.” he managed through clenched teeth. “My cock was meant to be here. I was meant to fuck you.” he snarled. 

You tightened around his length as he thrust harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” His jaw dropped again. “Say my name, please?”

“K-keigo.” you obeyed. You felt a warmth in your chest as well as your core. It was like a fire was being ignited in the pit of your soul. “I’m gonna-”

“Fuck! Don’t finish that sentence.” he snarled. “You don’t wanna know what I’m gonna do as a result.”

In a swift motion, you were suddenly staring down at Keigo. He had a death grip on your legs as he was now thrusting upwards. You had your hands on his chest in an attempt to support yourself.

“I think I like you more when you’re riding me.” he bit his lip. “You look so fucking sexy. Those moans, that body, your pretty fucking pussy-”

“Keigo, please! I can’t it anymore.”

“Oh yeah, you gonna cum? You wanna cum for me, baby?” he spoke in a babyish voice. “You wanna cum all over Papa Bird’s cock? Do it, do it for me...ARGH FUCK!”

You felt his warmth inside you at the exact same time you had came. He was shaking under you, rolling his hips upwards to relieve the friction he had caused. 

Keigo stared in amazement at a bright light erupted from your chest, a small bird in the shape of smoke began flying around the room.

“That would be spirit.” you laughed tiredly, watching the quirk you had thought died reactivate out of nowhere. 

“I hope you know...you can never leave me now.” Keigo sat up to lay kisses on your neck. “You’re mine now.”

(AND DONE! This was Hawks debut on the blog so lets all give hem a huge hello!)

#anime x reader #anime imagines #anime scenarios #anime headcanons #anime x reader imagines #anime x reader scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha hawks #bnha keigo #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #x reader #imagines #hawks x reader imagines #keigo takami bnha #keigo takami smut #keigo takami lemon #bnha lemon #hawks lemon #hawks smut #smut imagines #fan fic #nightowlfandom

[ocean-blue-whump]

🎈?? for star :) bc i love her but i love hurting her…

Oh so you're like...mean mean. /j

Here's the list, still taking requests!

🎈 - A public party, strangers, and a pillory (or a hole in the wall).

Tagging @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @justplainwhump @whumpfessional

CW: EXPLICIT NONCON, 18+, MINORS DNI, *heavy* dehumanization, lady whump, pet whump, BBU, objectification (calling Star an object/toy), noncon filming, multiple whumpers, dissociation, this is a pretty fucked up one

***

Sunny’s across the room and it’s all Star can focus on. His eyes are wide with fear from his spot straddling a man’s lap, placing forced, feather light touches all over the man’s lean chest. He’s shaking, too, pretty boy is shaking each time the man bounces him around a little, laughing at the way Sunny’s whole body locks with each movement. His fear is permeating the room. It’s all Star can think about.

It’s all she wants to think about.

The man behind her pulls out, coming in quick, hot spurts across her back. Star shudders as it begins to cool, leaving her sticky and disgusting.

If the Facility was Hell, what is this supposed to be? It’s just one nightmare after the other. She’ll have nightmares about this. She’ll have nightmares about all of it, and when she wakes, she’ll curl up in his arms, soaked in sweat, and try to pretend that she’s not a failure.

The man walks around and squats down in front of her, examining the pet. He grabs onto her jaw and squishes her face so her mouth is forced to open. Her hands twist uselessly around in their places locked on either side of her head. He tilts his head to carefully appraise her. “Hunter? How’d your whore get that scar?”

Mr. Bianchi appears in the background, a sour look on his face. “Don’t ask.”

Star knows they’re referring to the slice on her jaw, perfectly straight and perfectly ugly.

Don’t scar the face.

Mr. Bianchi scowls. "I don't want to talk about it."

She doesn’t have value anymore, not like this. She’ll always belong to Mr. Bianchi because no one else would want a Romantic with a scarred face.

The man in front of her shrugs. “Sorry for asking.” In one swift movement, he leans forward and kisses Star.

Star thrashes around, but she can’t escape the cruel grip of the pillory. She can’t be free. The man bites down on her lip as he backs away, drawing blood and, to Star’s horror and everyone else’s delight, a sinful, loud moan.

Mr. Bianchi laughs. “Damn! Wish you were just a slut for me, Starshine. Too bad I lost Fantasy Football and have to host this fucking party.”

The man who had just kissed her backs away. “Please. A voice like that is meant to be shared.”

In the corner of the room, Sunny whimpers as the man holding him toys at his collar, tracing a thick finger right along his jugular. Star thrashes at her restraints. She needs to be over there, pulling Sunny away, crouching over him and keeping him safe.

Another man walks behind her, and with no preamble, sheaths himself inside.

She’s nothing more than an animal like this, bent over, trapped in a rough wooded pillory and used as nothing but a fucktoy for these men. She doesn’t have dignity, doesn’t get dignity. This is what she wanted to be made into, and it makes her sick.

This new man is rough and fast, hands scrabbling across Star’s back, hitting a spot inside of her that she’s sure is bruised by now. Mr. Bianchi picks up the camera.

There’s a video being made of this, one where the camera is specifically angled to avoid the men fucking her but get every singe lewd angle of her. Mr. Bianchi walks around with the camera, getting a close up of her fucked out face. Eyes rolling into the back of her head, tongue out, drool dripping down her chin. He moves to stand behind her and she knows what he’s filming there in humiliatingly pornographic detail.

She’s not even human. It’s not like she’s paid to be in Mr. Bianchi’s movies. She’s a toy. She’s not even fucking real.

There’s something wrong with her wiring. Every single day, she gets more and more uncertain that she wanted this in the first place. She would run, if she could. But Sunny will stay. She doesn’t go without him.

The man finishes inside her, and his spend leaks out of her and onto her leg and that’s all she is to these people but she wants so desperately to be something more than a fleshlight that breathes.

She’s never going to be.

Someone’s in front of her now, unhinging her jaw with fingers tasting of beer and potato chips and thrusting himself inside.

She doesn’t have a gag reflex, they train those out of Romantics from the beginning. Real humans? They would gag and choke when something’s all the way down their throat. Not pets. She takes the pain and doesn’t make a sound, swallowing obediently when the man comes down her throat and sticking out her tongue to show she takes what she’s given.

They men laugh, but it’s just a hollow sound in the background since Star put herself on autopilot and decided to tune everything out. She wanted to start being good but this is the only way she can do it. When she’s not physically present for any of the stuff that happens to her.

She’s not allowed to talk like that, “happened to her.” She signed up for this, she’s just a pet, why does she want and want and want to be free?

But she’s just a pet in a pillory and she’ll never get to be free.

#nsfwhump #noncon tw #pet whump #bbu #box boy universe #box boy whump #box boy multiverse #box babe #lady whump #lady whumpee #romantic whumpee #dehumanisation tw #objectification #noncon filming #multiple whumpers #star #sunny #hunter bianchi #blue's words

[andordean]

⭐ Go, Dor, GO!!

So I was asked about Cahir and Ciri, so it's time to unleash all the background of Tankred Thyssen of Kovir on you all.

Back in 2015 when Ciri invaded my brain and demanded to rule over independent Cintra, I had to figure out a way for her to not only reclaim her country, but also to keep it, which, in the current political landscape after TW3 was not an easy task AT ALL. (Not that she cared.)

The only clear thing in that huge political mess of a puzzle that I had to solve was that she needed powerful allies if she was to challenge the current status quo, and not many of those remained in the North after the devastating war. 

Kovir came into the picture very early on, courtesy of none other than Philippa for there's nothing better than using canon and twisting it to your needs:

"If you were still Cirilla of Cintra," Philippa continued after a long pause, "still the daughter of Pavetta and granddaughter of Calanthe, you’d become Prince Tankred’s legal wife. You’d be the princess, and later the queen of Poviss and Kovir. Unfortunately, and I tell you this with genuine regret, fate has deprived you of everything. Including your future. You will only be his mistress. His favorite."

[…]

"That ugly scar on your face," Sheala said indifferently, "we will magically remove or disguise. You will be a mysterious and beautiful woman, and I guarantee that Tankred Thyssen will go crazy for you."

(...and boy he did.)

There’s very little in both book and game canon about Tankred; books give us hints of his past as a womanizing party boy, and a disappointment to Esterad:

‘This is Guiscard,’ Esterad explained, nodding towards the boy. ‘My grandson, the son of Gaudemunda and that ne’er-do-well, Duke Vermuellen. But that little boy is Kovir’s only hope, should Tankred Thyssen turn out to be... Should anything happened to Tankred…’

Dijkstra was aware of Kovir’s problem. And Esterad’s personal problem. He knew that something had already happened to Tankred. The lad, if he had any makings of a king, would only be a bad one.

There are a few more details, but still vague, in the conversation between Sheala and Zuleyka:

‘Prince Tankred will bid farewell to that bad company. He will not linger at the  Baron of Surcratasse’s castle. Nor at the Lady de Lisemore’s residence. Nor at the Redanian ambassador’s wife’s.’

‘He will no longer visit those personages? Never?’

‘Those personages,’ Sheala de Tansarville’s dark eyes lit up with a strange glint, ‘will no longer dare to trifle with Prince Tankred, for they shall be made aware of the consequences. I vouch for what I say. I vouch for the fact that Prince Tankred will take up his studies again and be a diligent scholar, a serious and level-headed young man. He shall also stop chasing skirts. He shall lose is ardour...until the moment we introduce to him Cirilla, Princess or Cintra.’

All we are told in the game is that he granted mages a safe haven in Kovir, and offered Triss a position of his advisor.

Based on those crumbles of data I wrote him as a spoilt royal brat who had to grow up fast after Esterad’s assassination; an incompetent princeling who had to endure a few painful lessons before eventually growing into a capable ruler; a decent strategist, but lacking his father’s flair--and while competent, he still retained a hedonist streak of his youth, and is ready to indulge himself at every opportunity.

The next question I had to figure out was: what would make him abandon Kovir’s neutrality that’s stressed time and again in the books, and agree to help Ciri (other than being susceptible to her charm).

Esterad’s musings were a great inspiration for the strategic values of an union with Cintra:

‘You know, Zuleyka,’ he confided. ‘lately I've been having queer dreams. I’ve dreamt of that witch, my mother, I don’t know how many times. She stands over me and repeats: ‘I have a wife for Tankred, I have a wife for Tankred’. And she shows me a pretty, but very young girl. And you know, Zuleyka, who that girl is? It’s Ciri, Calanthe’s granddaughter. Remember Calanthe, Zuleyka?’

‘I do, my husband.’

‘Cirilla of Cintra,’ Esterad went on, playing with the sceptre, ‘is the one Emhyr var Emreis reputedly wants to marry. A bizarre marriage, astonishing... How, damn it, ought she to be a wife for Tankred?’

‘Tankred--’ Zuleyka’s voice faintly altered, as it did whenever she spoke of her son ‘--could do with a wife. Perhaps he would settle down...’

‘Perhaps,’ Esterad sighed. ‘Though I doubt it, but perhaps. In any case, matrimony is some sort of chance. Hmmm… Ciri… Ha! Kovir and Cintra. The Yaruga estuary! Doesn’t sound at all bad, not at all bad An alliance would be fine... A nice little coalition...’

But as good an alliance as it may have been in theory, it still wasn’t enough for Tankred to officially lend Ciri his support against Nilfgaard and Redania, not with the current balance of power. I needed a stronger argument in her favour. I spent good few weeks trying to figure it out, until I had an idea to check the Polish version of the Witcher Wiki on the country. There I saw a mention on the mounting issues with food shipments, mainly from Nilfgaard--and that solved my main political plot puzzle.

The last puzzle was Tankred and Ciri’s dynamics and relationship. Ciri’s love of freedom is something I both adore about her and very much share, therefore locking her in a cage of a political marriage was the last thing I wanted for her. Since I headcanon her in an established relationship with Cerys in this verse, I had an idea to write the marriage as an open arrangement.

Another argument for an open marriage was the well established within canon fact that Esterad and Zuleyka loved each other. Messed up as Tankred was as a teenager, he grew up in a loving family; to know his own future marriage would likely be an empty, meaningless union to cement some alliance or another likely wasn't a particularly cheerful concept. Meeting Ciri changes his perspective; he recognises a potential valuable partner in her, and suggests the arrangement based on trust, honesty and open communication that allows both of them to enjoy certain freedoms, and keep the people they love in their lives.

Obviously, this being me, I only write happy endings for Ciri, so their relationship starts as politics with benefits, to grow into genuine respect, trust, and eventually, love.

I’ve never written a poly story before, so it was ever so slightly daunting--I’ve been told I managed to pull it off. 💜

Lastly, for visuals, we have one official art of Esterad, his Gwent card; and we also have canon:

“The king was wearing a crimson ermine-trimmed cape and a matching velvet chapeau. Like all the men of the Thyssen clan he was tall, powerfully built and devilishly handsome.

Which is to say it wasn’t pure thirst on my part to make Tankred hot. Behold:

Tankred the smug bastard by beidak

Tankred after Esterad’s assassination, a wonderful piece by @nikita-not-nikola

(I hope you wanted an essay when you sent me that ask, dear! 💜 Thank you for indulging me.)

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut ask

#tankred thyssen #fic: blood ties #fic: business matter #Ciri/Tankred #smug boi

[mst3kproject]

Countess Dracula

In Countess Dracula we have the tale of a lonely old woman who discovers that she can make herself young again, just so long as she doesn’t mind having to murder somebody to do it (she doesn’t).  Our antiheroine uses this newfound youth to seduce the least interesting man in the movie, until at last her misdeeds catch up with her when her latest victim turns out to have been the wrong demographic to make the magic work.

Does that sound familiar?  Yeah, this is a very Leech-Woman-y movie.  It stars Nigel Green, the news announcer from Gorgo, and comes to us from Hammer Studios, home of Moon Zero-Two.  The director, Peter Sasdy, never made anything that wound up on MST3K but he did work on the legendary Pia Zadora bomb, The Lonely Lady.  Countess Dracula is not a wild ride, as its pace is fairly sedate, but it is certainly a ride nonetheless.

The count of somewhere or other has just died, leaving his realm to his nineteen-year-old daughter Ilona – and technically also leaving his spiteful widow, Elizabeth, free to marry her longtime lover Captain Dobi.  Most people would consider this a perfectly acceptable retirement, but Elizabeth is impossible to satisfy.  She doesn’t want to grow old while Ilona (currently on her way home from finishing school in Vienna) rules the county and gets all the attention.  When Elizabeth discovers that bathing in the blood of virgins restores her youth, she embraces murder as a hobby and has Ilona locked up so she can stay in charge while posing as her own daughter!  In that guise she sets out to pursue handsome young Imre, the son of her husband’s most trusted general, while jealous Dobi can only sit and seethe.

I bet you think you can guess how this movie ends.  I bet you think Dobi tells Imre the countess’ secret, and the two of them defeat her.  Or else the real Ilona escapes and meets him, they expose Elizabeth as a fraud, and then get married and rule the land with justice and mercy or something.  That’s what would happen in a normal movie… but you guys know I don’t watch normal movies.  Maybe instead you’re guessing that nobody does shit and Elizabeth just carries on her merry way until she’d destroyed by her own hubris?  That’s more like it.

Not all of Hammer’s films were good, but they were generally pretty well-made and Countess Dracula is not an exception.  The elaborate costumes and sets are very nice, although areas like the town square are obviously artificial and the old lady makeup on Ingrid Pitt as Elizabeth is pretty bad.  There’s also a young woman made up in very ugly brownface as a ‘gypsy girl’, except they totally forgot to do any makeup on her for the scene where her naked corpse is discovered in the woods.

There are even a couple really well-done moments of storytelling and worldbuilding.  A scene in a pub, when everybody falls silent as Dobi and Imre enter, shows eloquently how terrified the peasants are of the aristocracy. Elizabeth gets some chilling bits when we see the true depth of her depravity.  She sees no difference between controlling people through love and controlling them through fear – either way, she gets what she wants, and their feelings don’t matter.  My favourite detail is the subtle cultural conflict going on in the background, as the characters speak disparagingly of ‘Turks’ and yet have clearly picked up some bits and pieces of Ottoman culture.

Although its plot outline is very similar to The Leech Woman, the philosophy of Countess Dracula is completely different.  The Leech Woman didn’t really give June a viable alternative to her poisoned fountain of youth.  Old women in its world can only sit around and drink and know that nobody loves them. Elizabeth, however, has a possible future – Dobi repeatedly notes that he’s been waiting twenty years for the opportunity to legitimatize his relationship with her.  He would have happily devoted himself to her for the rest of his life, and the two of them could have lived in retirement while Imre and Ilona gave them grandchildren to spoil.  Dobi even says there is dignity in age, directly contradicting The Leech Woman by applying it equally to both sexes.  June was more or less forced to become a monster, while Elizabeth chooses it explicitly.

So there’s honestly some pretty good stuff in this film.  Where it unfortunately falls on its face is with the characters, none of whom can really be said to have an arc, and the ending, which is rushed and unsatisfying.

The movie’s main focus is always on Elizabeth, but she refuses to grow or learn anything at any point.  She starts off as a nasty, selfish bitch and just stays a nasty, selfish bitch.  She has no actual master plan, but seems convinced that she can keep up this charade indefinitely, even though Dobi points out the impracticality of that.  Dobi believes she’s going mad, but the truth seems to be she’s just horrible.  She is evidently terrified of growing old, but that is never explored.  We see her react to aging, rather violently at times, but we never find out what the root of this fear is.

All this means that Elizabeth, despite being the focal character, is never sympathetic.  June in The Leech Woman at least started off as somebody we could pity, before she descended into depravity.  Elizabeth is a terrible person from the get-go, as illustrated in the very opening when she has her coachman run over a peasant who wants her to fulfill a promise her late husband made her.

Imre and Ilona are pretty much complete ciphers. Imre spends the entire movie in Elizabeth’s thrall one way or another.  He is madly in love with her in her guise as Ilona, and after finding out the truth he’s too scared of her to openly defy her.  The only personality trait he manifests is gullible foolishness, and any sympathy we might have had for him evaporates when he cheerfully kisses a barmaid’s tit on the same day when he’s proposed marriage to the woman he believes is his true love.  Ilona spends most of the movie locked up in some mute peasant’s hut doing not much. When she finally enters the story properly, she comes across as stunningly stupid.

The character who does the most to try to thwart Elizabeth is her lover Dobi, but he’s less interested in stopping her from killing virgins than he is in having her to himself.  He gets Imre drunk and tosses him in bed with the barmaid in the hope that Elizabeth will reject him, and later takes Imre to see Elizabeth bathing in blood to youthen herself.  These things don’t work, partly because Imre is an idiot and partly because Elizabeth is always more evil than he thought she was, but at least he tries.

At the end of the movie, Elizabeth’s latest bloodbath wears off in the middle of her wedding to Imre, and she runs off to murder Ilona in order to make herself young again.  Imre tries to stop her and gets stabbed for his trouble, which does at least expose Elizabeth’s evildoing to one and all, and she and Dobi are hanged. What happens to Ilona I’m not sure, but I know they didn’t have therapists in the seventeenth century.  Nobody wins here.  It’s a downer for everybody, including the superstitious peasants, who will continue to be terrified of their rulers now that their worst fears have been confirmed.

Several things might be made of the fact that it’s young women Elizabeth is killing.  It’s interesting to note that the idea of male virginity is never even brought up.  We could contrast two depictions of motherhood, in the form of Elizabeth’s jealousy of Ilona versus Juli the nurse’s unconditional love for her.  There’s Imre’s description of ‘Ilona’ as embodying all aspects of womanhood, to which Dobi replies that no woman can be maiden, mother, and whore all at once… yet that is just what Elizabeth is trying to be.  What I find interesting in this, however, is how the movie depicts Elizabeth’s own internalized misogyny, in the fucked-up attitudes she displays towards youth, beauty, and gender.

Elizabeth feels that age and experience have made her undesirable.  Dobi assures her that he finds her as attractive as he ever did, but she evidently does not believe him, and her mistreatment of her female servants has a definite note of jealousy in it.  She kills young virgins not only to gain their desirability, but because she hates them for what they have and she does not.

What’s unusual is that she applies this same attitude towards the men in her life.  Elizabeth is no longer attracted to Dobi, because he is old and experienced. Their affair has gone on for years, and in Dobi’s mind this has only deepened his love for her – but Elizabeth is tired of it and wants something new.  Imre is young, handsome, and innocent.  He has no wealth of his own and has not yet really accomplished much in life, but Elizabeth doesn’t care.  If all she has to be is young and pretty, then how could she ask anything more of him?

Here, Dobi and Elizabeth represent two different versions of gender equality as it applies to sexual attractiveness, with him raising Elizabeth to his level, and her lowering Dobi and Imre to hers!  Elizabeth treating the men in her life as she has been treated illustrates the inequality quite sharply, but what ultimately destroys her is applying the same standards to herself.  She believes so totally that nothing else matters as long as she is beautiful that she doesn’t care what she has to do to accomplish it, or who sees her do it.  In the end, she is undone by her own self-loathing.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #countess dracula #70s #magic voice recommends #we're running out of plots

[apoemaday]

To This Day

by Shane Koyczan

When I was a kid I used to think that pork chops and karate chops were the same thing I thought they were both pork chops and because my grandmother thought it was cute and because they were my favourite she let me keep doing it

not really a big deal

one day before I realized fat kids are not designed to climb trees I fell out of a tree and bruised the right side of my body

I didn’t want to tell my grandmother about it because I was afraid I’d get in trouble for playing somewhere that I shouldn’t have been

a few days later the gym teacher noticed the bruise and I got sent to the principal’s office from there I was sent to another small room with a really nice lady who asked me all kinds of questions about my life at home

I saw no reason to lie as far as I was concerned life was pretty good I told her “whenever I’m sad my grandmother gives me karate chops”

this led to a full scale investigation and I was removed from the house for three days until they finally decided to ask how I got the bruises

news of this silly little story quickly spread through the school and I earned my first nickname

pork chop

to this day I hate pork chops

I’m not the only kid who grew up this way surrounded by people who used to say that rhyme about sticks and stones as if broken bones hurt more than the names we got called and we got called them all so we grew up believing no one would ever fall in love with us that we’d be lonely forever that we’d never meet someone to make us feel like the sun was something they built for us in their tool shed so broken heart strings bled the blues as we tried to empty ourselves so we would feel nothing don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone that an ingrown life is something surgeons can cut away that there’s no way for it to metastasize

it does

she was eight years old our first day of grade three when she got called ugly we both got moved to the back of the class so we would stop get bombarded by spit balls but the school halls were a battleground where we found ourselves outnumbered day after wretched day we used to stay inside for recess because outside was worse outside we’d have to rehearse running away or learn to stay still like statues giving no clues that we were there in grade five they taped a sign to her desk that read beware of dog

to this day despite a loving husband she doesn’t think she’s beautiful because of a birthmark that takes up a little less than half of her face kids used to say she looks like a wrong answer that someone tried to erase but couldn’t quite get the job done and they’ll never understand that she’s raising two kids whose definition of beauty begins with the word mom because they see her heart before they see her skin that she’s only ever always been amazing

he was a broken branch grafted onto a different family tree adopted but not because his parents opted for a different destiny he was three when he became a mixed drink of one part left alone and two parts tragedy started therapy in 8th grade had a personality made up of tests and pills lived like the uphills were mountains and the downhills were cliffs four fifths suicidal a tidal wave of anti depressants and an adolescence of being called popper one part because of the pills and ninety nine parts because of the cruelty he tried to kill himself in grade ten when a kid who still had his mom and dad had the audacity to tell him “get over it” as if depression is something that can be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit

to this day he is a stick on TNT lit from both ends could describe to you in detail the way the sky bends in the moments before it’s about to fall and despite an army of friends who all call him an inspiration he remains a conversation piece between people who can’t understand sometimes becoming drug free has less to do with addiction and more to do with sanity

we weren’t the only kids who grew up this way to this day kids are still being called names the classics were hey stupid hey spaz seems like each school has an arsenal of names getting updated every year and if a kid breaks in a school and no one around chooses to hear do they make a sound? are they just the background noise of a soundtrack stuck on repeat when people say things like kids can be cruel? every school was a big top circus tent and the pecking order went from acrobats to lion tamers from clowns to carnies all of these were miles ahead of who we were we were freaks lobster claw boys and bearded ladies oddities juggling depression and loneliness playing solitaire spin the bottle trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal but at night while the others slept we kept walking the tightrope it was practice and yeah some of us fell

but I want to tell them that all of this shit is just debris leftover when we finally decide to smash all the things we thought we used to be and if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself get a better mirror look a little closer stare a little longer because there’s something inside you that made you keep trying despite everyone who told you to quit you built a cast around your broken heart and signed it yourself you signed it “they were wrong” because maybe you didn’t belong to a group or a click maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball or everything maybe you used to bring bruises and broken teeth to show and tell but never told because how can you hold your ground if everyone around you wants to bury you beneath it you have to believe that they were wrong

they have to be wrong

why else would we still be here? we grew up learning to cheer on the underdog because we see ourselves in them we stem from a root planted in the belief that we are not what we were called we are not abandoned cars stalled out and sitting empty on a highway and if in some way we are don’t worry we only got out to walk and get gas we are graduating members from the class of fuck off we made it not the faded echoes of voices crying out names will never hurt me

of course they did

but our lives will only ever always continue to be a balancing act that has less to do with pain

#poetry #Shane Koyczan #to this day

[butterbeeryuta]

chapter 1: flaxseed muffins and first times

We never really uncovered what happens after death, haven’t we? Some say that we go to heaven or hell, and possibly purgatory. Others say that we live again in another life form. Other sources also believed that the souls of our body are taken to the underworld, or as most of us know, House of Hades. Nonetheless, none of these are true. Well, maybe one of them is somewhat accurate. Ladies and gentlemen, believe it or not, only hell exists. Nobody lived a peaceful and pure life, hence why ‘heaven’ cannot be real— or that was at least written on the pamphlet I received a few hours ago. There are different types of hells; for example, Hell 34 only consists of English men who wore a blue polo shirt to play golf, while Hell 3 only have people who died heroically, making their country proud. As for me, yes I, I am going to Hell 127— the hell for people who had embarrassing deaths.

Here I am, in a fucking aeroplane, with 7 men and 5 women around me. I do not remember how I died, I really don’t. The lady with purple horns, who I assume is the flight attendant, distributed a pamphlet to every one of us, and it had everything written down. Not going to lie though, reading ‘you are dead and you are on your way to hell’ was something I was not expecting, nor did I want to hear. Then again, that is what life is in a way— you will face challenges and events that to do not appeal to you. Or I guess it would be more appropriate to say afterlife since I died with embarrassment.

‘Vaginas and Dicks, for your safety, not that it really matters since you all are practically dead, follow our goddamn instructions. Wear that safety belt, or something will happen to you— I personally do not know what happens since nobody has ever done it— and for now, please wear the green headphones in front of you, and a clip of your death will be displayed on your shitty screens. Enjoy devils.’ The purple woman said enthusiastically with the brightest smile, her red lips outlining the yellow tint of her teeth. Eagerly wanting to know why my death was considered ‘embarrassing,’ I grabbed the earphones, quickly placing them on my head. The small black screen in front of me suddenly lightened up; different splashes of colour decorating the plain rectangle. The different colours blended with another to form some sort of sphere, which only was shaped into you, soon followed by the background. I was in the restaurant with my little cousin, Seomin, eating the flaxseeds muffin I ordered as an attempt to be healthy for once in my life. Quite ironic that I’m now dead. Nonetheless, I was chewing on my muffin while Seomin was talking about how Mulan is the best Disney princess film ever—which she is not wrong—and I, being the best older cousin in this fucked up world— was not giving a damn. I was confused at this point since nothing happened. It got me wondering, did I die on the spot when I wasn’t listening to Seomin, or did my parents pray for Daddy Satan to come and collect me?

I let the video play, but I had to take a look at other people’s reaction to their death… honestly, some were quite hilarious. One pretty girl had her fingers on her scalp, mouth wide agape as she watches herself die to a point it was embarrassing. One rather young man with caramel-brown hair was trying his best to hold in his laughter as his joy-filled eyes was watching himself… die. Gosh, that sounded really wrong to say.

‘OH MY GOD HELP ___________ IS CHOKING! SOMEONE HELP MY COUSIN!’

Excuse me?

With no hesitation, my eyes turned back to the device the moment I heard my name tore out of Seomin’s throat, and I looked fucking ugly and in need of help; my eyes were wide open, my limbs were pathetically waving around, and I was making the world’s most unattractive noises which will surely act as a cockblock. Oh god, this cannot be the way how I died. One middle-aged man ran up to dying me, wrapped his arms around my chest as he kept pushing hard. Meanwhile, his nasty ass teenage son was just filming me choke to death. Literally. How nice of you kid. Although the video was still playing, it was way too damn obvious. I fucking choked on a healthy ass muffin, and died. How embarrassing is that? My parents called me a disappointment when I came home with a 84% on my Biology test, what more will they say when they find out that I didn’t know how to chew my food?

‘Oh damn, that’s how you died? You choked on a muffin? That’s both sad and embarrassing man’ a man’s voice beside me says, causing me to jump slightly from the sudden noise. I face turned towards him, and the sneeky-ass bitch was looking at my screen. This man was watching my death. What the fuck dude?

‘Excuse me, but who are you? This is quite a private moment don’t you think?’ I sharply asked, disliking that fact that this guy shamelessly watched me choke on a muffin. He just giggled in response, very similar to a child’s giggle. Did it warm my heart a bit? Yeah, maybe a little. But there was no way I was going to admit that. If he saw me dying in embarrassment, then so shall I.

‘Sorry, sorry. You were constantly shaking your head while watching so I thought yours was going to be quality conten— YO WOMAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING?’

‘I’M GOING TO WATCH HOW YOU DIE CAUSE YOU SAW MINE CREEP!’ I screamed back as I took his earphones, trying my best to click on the play button. This would have been so much easier if this man’s strong hands were not stopping me from seeing the truth behind his body giving up on him. Without thinking, which is how I usually work anyway, I gathered all of my strength, pushing the doe-eyed man down, successfully hitting the play button. Ignoring the groan from the guy beside me, he was in a circle with a bunch of his guy friends, or probably his orgy mates who knows, and black-haired boy looked very lost.

‘Mark, truth or dare?’

‘Uhh, truth I guess?’ Mark, who is apparently the guy next to me pouting, replies unsurely as he bit his lower lip.

‘In detail, tell us how your first time went,’ one of the boys in the video asks, which only made alive Mark go pale. It wasn’t just a normal type of pale, he was PALE pale. Then it hit me like the way my mother hits me in the back of my head with a slipper. The bitch literally died of embarrassment. Slowly pulling the headphones off, Mark was still pouting as he played with his fingers. Now that I think about it, this guy is pretty adorable… adorably stupid.

‘Are you going to make fun of me now or?’ He asks softly, avoiding eye contact. Though now that I think about it, we never really made eye contact.

‘Not really. For fuck’s sake I choked on a goddamn flaxseeds muffin—‘

‘Oh my, you died from being healthy?’ Mark laughs, which to my surprise, had me smiling at his rather contagious laugh. Shamelessly nodding at his words, I then asked him a question I’ve been meaning to ask since seeing that video.

‘Tell me, how is it even possible to die like that?’ I asked as I crossed my arms. His bright smile instantly dropped; his facial expression alone could tell that he had no answer to your question. Feeling kind of bad for the kid, I told him to let it go, which for some reason, made him somewhat relieved. Believe or not though, I ended up talking to Mark for the whole plane ride. He was born and raised in Canada, and studied mechanical engineering… until he became friends with drug dealers and got high on a weekly basis. I also found out that his laugh is the funniest thing about the cute guy. As for my side, I ended up telling him about how I was an art teacher at an international school in Australia. But of course, I ended up making the art pieces for the students once they paid me. Now that I think about, maybe there is a reason to why I am destined to go to hell. Nonetheless, I made a friend on my way to Hell 127, how fucked up yet cool is that.

‘Alright pussies and cocks, we will shortly arrive to your destination: Hell 127.’

a/n: that’s chapter 1 everyone! mark and __________ already got to know each other, but this is just the beginning of one chaotic fluffy story ya’ll. if you’re interested in this fic, let me know that you want to be added to the taglist <3

taglist: @ta3ilmoon​ @lelenoir​ @murasakillmepls​

back to materlist?

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark #mark lee #mark x reader #mark x you #crack #fluff #fluffy crack #nct fic #mark fic #mark fluff #mark crack #nct fluff #nct crack

[dwellordream]

On the other side of Eddard VI, the King’s Landing crime rate is skyrocketing due to the upcoming tourney Ned wants no part in.

It’s pretty clear we are meant to see King’s Landing as this Gotham-esque den of sin and corruption, ruled by ineffective and corrupt people like Janos Slynt, though we don’t actually know he’s corrupt yet.

Renly shows off his assholery for the first time by calling Shireen ugly while he makes fun of Stannis.

Ned is now reading the book Arryn had before his death, which is devoted to lineages and histories of great houses. Ned is confused as to why Jon would want it sincd the book itself is over a century old, and pretty much everyone noted in it is dead.

We also hear about the mythic origins of House Lannister, via the trickster Lann the Clever, who stole Casterly Rock from the Casterlys and gold from the sun to dye his hair.

Ned has been interviewing what is left of Jon’s household but not getting very far. Jon was ‘melancholy over his young son’s frailty, and gruff with his lady wife’.

He was also sending Robert Arryn to Dragonstone to ward, breeding hunting hounds, and commissioned a suit of armor from a smith, oddly accompanied by Stannis. And riding with Stannis, often, which Ned picks up on as weird. To a brothel. Even weirder.

Jory asks if Ned wants to demand Stannis return from Dragonstone, but Ned refuses, unsure who’s side Stannis is actually on here. We do get a lot of background info on Stannis this chapter, from his cold and severe persona to his loathing of brothels and whores to his resilience during the Rebellion, holding out through a year long siege.

We also hear of Margaery indirectly; Renly wanted to know if Ned thought she resembled Lyanna, which Ned finds absurd, and he also doesn’t really believe Renly himself is interested in Margaery. Wow, I wonder what Renly could be planning for a girl he wants to resemble Lyanna...

Ned decides to visit the armorer, because it was unlike Jon to want such lavish armor to wear.

We also get a cameo of the popular and handsome young Beric Dondarrion arriving in the city...

Tobho Mott claims Jon and Stannis didn’t actually want armor, they wanted to see ‘the boy’. The boy, Gendry, is a talented young armorer. Jon and Stannis wanted to know details about his mother, specifically what she looked like. She was blonde, tellingly.

Ned looks into Gendry’s eyes and realizes he is Robert’s son. Tobho Mott explains some hooded lord paid for Gendry’s expensive apprentice fee. It’s clear Mott realizes Gendry is the king’s bastard, but that he is unwilling to admit it out of a desire to keep Gendry safe.

If it wasn’t obvious to the reader before that not only are Jaime and Cersei having an affair, but that Cersei’s children were not fathered by Robert, it’s probably clear now.

#ned stark #stannis baratheon #renly baratheon #gendry waters #asoiaf reread #a game of thrones

[childtraumaloss]

When I was a kid

I used to think that pork chops and karate chops were the same thing

I thought they were both pork chops

My grandmother thought it was cute

So she let me keep doing it

Because you know, they were my favorite

It wasn't a big deal

Until I was seven years old

And a bad fall caused me to bruise my upper arm and shoulder rather severely

I didn't wana tell my grandmother what happened

Because I was afraid I would get in trouble

Because I was playing somewhere I shouldn't have been

One day in gym class the teacher notices the bruise

And I was sent to the principals office

Not long after that I ended up in another small room

With a really nice lady who asked me all sorts of questions about my life at home

I saw no reason to lie

It was pretty good as fas as i was concerned

So I told her, whenever I'm sad my grandmother gives me karate chops

This lead to a full scale investigation

And I was removed from my grandparents house for three days

And then returned when they finally asked me how I got the bruises

News of this silly little story eventually spread through the school

And when the students finally caught wind of it

I earned my first name

Pork Chop

To this day I fucking hate pork chops

I'm not the only kid

Who grew up this way

Surrounded by people who used to say

That rhyme about sticks and stones

As if broken bones

Hurt more than the names we got called

And we got called them all

So we grew up believing no one

Would ever fall in love with us

That we'd be lonely forever

That we'd never meet someone

To make us feel like the sun

Was something they built for us

In their tool shed

So broken heart strings bled the blues

As we tried to empty ourselves

So we would feel nothing

Don't tell me that hurts less than a broken bone

That an ingrown life

Is something surgeons can cut away

That there's no way for it to metastasize

It does

She was eight years old

Our first day of grade three

When she got called ugly

We both got moved to the back of the class

So we would stop getting bombarded by spit balls

But the school halls were a battleground

We found ourselves outnumbered day after day

We used to stay inside for recess

Because outside was worse

Outside we'd have to rehearse running away

Or learn to stay still like statues giving no clues that we were there

In grade five they taped a sign to the front of her desk

That read

"Beware Of Dog"

To this day despite a loving husband

She doesn't think she's beautiful

Because of a birthmark

That takes up a little less than half of her face

Kids used to say she looks like a wrong answer

That someone tried to erase

But couldn't quite get the job done

And they'll never understand

That she's raising two kids

Whose definition of beauty

Begins with the word mom

Because they see her heart

Before they see her skin

Because she's only ever always been amazing

He

Was a broken branch

Grafted onto a different family tree

Adopted

But not because his parents opted for a different destiny

He was three when he became a mixed drink

Of one part left alone

And two parts tragedy

Started therapy in 8th grade

Had a personality made up of tests and pills

Lived like the uphills were mountains

And the downhills were cliffs

Four fifths suicidal

A tidal wave of anti depressants

And an adolescence of being called popper

One part because of the pills

And ninety nine parts because of the cruelty

He tried to kill himself in grade ten

When a kid who could still go home to mom and dad

Had the audacity to tell him "get over it"

As if depression is something that can be remedied

By any of the contents found in a first aid kit

To this day he is a stick of TNT lift from both ends

Could describe you in detail the way the sky bends

In the moments before it's about to fall

And despite an army of friends

Who all call him an inspiration

He remains a conversation piece between people

Who can't understand

That sometimes becoming drug free

Has less to do with addiction

And more to do with sanity

We weren't the only kids who grew up this way

To this day kids are still being called names

The classics were

"Hey stupid"

"Hey spaz"

Seems like every school has an arsenal of names

Getting updated every year

And if a kid breaks in a school

And no one around chooses to hear

Do they make a sound?

Are they just the background noise

Of a soundtrack stuck on repeat

When people say things like

Kids can be cruel?

Every school was a big top circus tent

And the pecking order went

From acrobats to lion tamers

From clowns to carnies

All of these were miles ahead of who we were

We were freaks

Lobster claw boys and bearded ladies

Oddities

Juggling depression and loneliness playing solitaire spin the bottle

Trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal

But at night

While the others slept

We kept walking the tightrope

It was practice

And yeah

Some of us fell

But I wanna tell them

That all of this

Is just debris

Leftover when we finally decide to smash all the things we thought

We used to be

And if you can't see anything beautiful about yourself

Get a better mirror

Look a little closer

Stare a little longer

Because there's something inside you

That made you keep trying

Despite everyone who told you to quit

You built a cast around your broken heart

And signed it yourself

You signed it

"They were wrong"

Because maybe you didn't belong to a group or a click

Maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball or everything

Maybe you used to bring bruises and broken teeth

To show and tell but never told

Because how can you hold your ground

If everyone around you wants to better you beneath it

You have to believe that they were wrong

They have to be wrong

Why else we'd still be here?

We grew up learning to cheer on the underdog

Because we see ourselves in them

We stem from a root planted in the belief

That we are not what we were called

We are not abandoned cars stalled out and Sitting empty on some highway

And if in some way we are

Don't worry

We only got out to walk and get gas

We are graduating members from the class of

We made it

Not the faded echoes of voices crying out

Names will never hurt me

Of course

They did

But our lives will only ever always

Continue to be

A balancing act

That has less to do with pain

And more to do with beauty

- Shane Koyczan

[bangtan-madi]

hi! could you please do number 5 from the time loop prompts with our lovely zen? thank you so much~!

Sorry this took forever to get written!! Thank you for being so patient. Hope you enjoy!! :)

There is something about this crowd that sends you off-kilter. It's not the usual clash of sounds, nor is it the bustle of people. Shoulders brushing shoulders as car horns blare and train tracks rattle, those are things you're used to from living in a busy city. Cell phones going off and people chattering in various dialects and languages are not new to you.

And at first, you don't give the tall, pale-haired man a second glance. Your elbow brushes his, and you keep moving forward. As does he. Neither of you stumble or turn back to apologize. Why would you? There are a hundred thousand people in this square at this very moment. Why would this one render your undivided attention? 

You continue along your way, stumbling through the hoard of citizens of every background. The conglomerate pushes you forward and away from the man in a silver trench-coat.

As you do, a terribly and empty feeling tugs at your heart. It's almost nauseating. The more you walk away from the center of the square, the more your breath catches in your lungs, the more your throat constricts, and the more your eyes start to water. Everything inside you is telling you to stop, to turn, to go back to where you were.

That instinct, above all else, strikes you to your core.

And you obey.

Turning on your heel, you shift your gaze back towards the direction from which you came. Oddly enough, the man in the silver trench-coat stands still, just a few feet away from the center. His back is turned to you, but you can see his shoulders heave heavily. It seems his breathing has become just as difficult as yours.

But why? Why this person? Why this place? Why right now? A million questions of this nature swirl around inside your skull, and they prompt you to take the first step back towards him.

The closer you get, the more relief floods through your system. Breathing comes easier. You find your voice again. Even movement becomes natural again. And as you reach out towards the stranger, without really knowing why, a wave of emotion pours over you.

"Excuse me, I--"

Your words and your thoughts are cut short as your fingers brush his arm for a second time. This instance, you're overwhelmed with imagery of another life. This man and you are the stars of this show. How or why or when are irrelevant as the story plays out in your mind.

The moment you met. The moment you first kissed. The moment you first said, "I love you." The moment you first made good on those words. The moment you married. These, and so much more, consume your senses, and you remember the finer details when you focus on them. The chatrooms, the friends, the intruder, the party, the plays, the weddings and baby showers sleepless nights and Z--

You pull your hand away as the story comes to an end. Not knowing how or why or when, but one thing is illuminatingly clear: this man and you shared a life together. You loved each other. And, eventually, you lost each other.

How could you forget about all of that?

Tears pour from your eyes as the pale-haired man finally turns towards you. The expression of confusion shifts to wide-eyed worry as he reaches for you, gently grasping your shoulders.

"Hey, hey! There's no need to cry. What's wrong, Jagiya? I'm not sure what I can do, but I can do what I can to help. Please, just calm down and I'll help you. Promise."

The nickname only brings back more of that lost life. Needless to say, your tears refuse to halt.

Desperately, the man bends down to be more at eye-level with you. "Please, don't cry. The last thing I want to do make a pretty lady like you sad."

You wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve and gaze up at the familiar man's scarlet eyes. "You really don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Everything!" you exclaim. "You didn't feel anything when I touched your coat?"

He sighs and shakes his head slightly. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe I should take you to a hosp--"

"--No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "No, we know each other. Your name is Zen. Your birth name is Hyun Ryu. You love to act on stage, and you hate cats because you're allergic. Your close friends are Yoosung, Saeyoung, and Jaehee. You pretend to hate Jumin, but when it comes down to it, you like him, too."

Zen's crimson gaze softens a little, but you can tell he doesn't believe you or remember anything. "That's awfully sweet that you're such a huge fan, but I don't think we've met before."

You grab the periphery of his coat and pull him closer, intensifying your voice. "Your mother called you ugly, and your brother betrayed you, so you left home when you were a teenager. You joined a biker gang and made a lot of mistakes before joining the RFA because of Rika and V. They were your friends, too."

"Wait, how do you know all of that about me?"

"Because I know you, Zen! And you know me. You’re the kindest, most compassionate and creative person I know. You give everything and expect nothing in return. You’re trying to quit smoking because you know how much I hate it. And you’re easing up on riding your motorcycle because I’m scared for your safety. It took you a while to realize that your mother was wrong and that you really are handsome, but your confidence is contagious, and you’ve made me one of the happiest people alive.”

Zen releases your shoulders with a perplexed and lost expression on his face. "I'm not sure what you're trying to do here, but you must've found that on the internet. Not sure how--" He shakes his head. "Who are you?"

"You know!" you exclaim desperately. "You know exactly who I am. You have to--You have to remember. Remember the night under the stars. Remember the day we adopted that Siberian kitten named Mai. Remember the telling me, 'Thank you for choosing me.' Remember our baby girl. Remember I love you. Remember everything before the reset. You have to. Remember me!"

In his hesitation, you see something familiar flicker across his unusual eyes. If you hadn't been gazing at them at the time, you might've missed it. There one second and gone the next, but it was something. You see it on his face; he just remembered something.

"M--MC?"

At the unprompted mention of your name, you slip your fingers up to the collar of his jacket and pull his face down towards yours. He allows you, and your lips meet in the middle. Pouring every bit of memory and love and hope into the kiss, you use the gesture to show him you mean it, that you're telling the truth, that he can remember if he tries. You see that sliver of that past life in his eyes, and like hell you're going to let it slip away.

Something unlocks inside Zen's brain as you press your mouth to his a second time. This time, he kisses back, equally passionate. Everything about you is so familiar. Your voice, your kiss, your appearance, even your tears: Zen knows he's done this all before. Even if he doesn't remember everything, his entire being knows you're telling the truth.

If there's one thing he remembers at this very moment, it's that your name has been circling around in his mind for longer than he's realized.

Zen's hands move for your waist, pulling you closer as his fingers slip under your jacket. Your tiny gasp into the kiss causes him to smile. He tilts his head as you move one hand into his hair, tugging at the shorter, loose strands at the back of his head. The meeting between you goes from innocent and hopeful to passionate and desperate in a matter of moments. As the kiss deepens, it seems you've both forgotten that you're standing in the middle of a busy street. 

Eventually, when you both pull away due to lack of oxygen, Zen pulls you closer and buries his head into your shoulder. He crushes you against him as you gasp for air, wanting to have you even closer but never getting to the point where he's satisfied with the distance between you.

"Do--Do you remember now?" you whisper, happily feeling his speeding pulse as you rest your chin on his shoulder.

"Not everything," he replies, pulling back to stare down at you. "But I remember that I love you. I remember MC, and I feel--I know there's so much more than that. Do you think we can start from there, Jagiya? Maybe you can help me remember the rest?"

A different kind of tears prick your eyes, and a wide grin spreads across your face as you nod. "You know I will,” you breathe, standing on your tip-toes to give him another peck. "For you, my love, anything." 

#kyojin-madi writes #zen #mysme #mysme scenario #mysme imagine #mm #mm scenario #mm imagine #mystic messenger #mystic messenger imagine #mystic messenger scenario #zen scenario #zen imagine #zen x mc #zen x reader #hyun ryu #mystic messenger zen #mysme zen #mm zen #mm reset theory #Time Loop

[thenixkat]

Nix Reviews: Sym-Bionic Titan

Summary: With their kingdom falling to an invasion the princess of an alien world, her bodyguard, and an ai are sent to Earth to escape and keep hope alive for the rebels. Of course, the villain finds out where the princess went and sends various kaiju and mutant alien monsters after her. Mecha time.

Score: 7/10

Sexual Assult Drinking Game: N/A?

(+) Very well put together. Pretty good writing.

- Lovely backgrounds

-Visually distinct

-CG works pretty well

-Creative kaiju/monster designs

-There’s a werewolf ep AND its the chick who gets to turn into a grotesque monster

-Actually feels like something that deserves a PG rating

- Nonorganic beings treated with fucking love and respect are my jam

-The leads give off major aspec vibes

-The entire ‘booty quake’ scene is just a big ace mood

-characters are well done and complex

(-) Character designs can be kinda fugly. Too many lines/too detailed doesn’t look very good.

-The villain looks like a fucking monkey and I don’t like apes

-Our heroes and the kingdom they fled are space Brittish. And I hate the Brittish and their ugly ass clothing.

-sexualized minors. Mostly restricted to the cheerleaders and the pretty boy main character. Possibly leaning on the tropes of oversexed high school dramas

-was canceled, so ends on a cliffhanger/nonending

-That one Black lady had some kinda uncomfortable caricature vibes

-Series is blindingly pale/White 

Overall: It’s very much not my usual cup of tea, I personally don’t like mecha series. But, it’s very good. It is very well put together and the writing is well done. I recommend it, if you like mecha you’ll probably enjoy it more.

#nix meows #nix reviews #sym-bionic titan #symbionic titan #mecha #cartoons