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drefear · 9 months

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Imagine reader artist, who loves to draw Miguel. And the other day she's just drawing naked Miguel's body. He saw it and just smirks and say: "I've got bigger than that" or "I could show/pose for accuracy"

TW: raunchy smut, Dom!miguel, fem reader, smut with no plot.

A/N: I wrote half of this while at work and a little drunk. So here ya go. Also currently in the process of writing a part two.

Miguel’s face filled your sketchbook, his back in his spider suit, his mask, every angle you could find him at. You often sat in his office for hours while he did reports, sketching him and drawing him. You loved using different mediums and colors, giving him new features and styles. You specifically loved practicing drawing his broad body and sculpted as-

Ahem. Legs.

Yes, ok, fine, you had a small crush on your boss, whatever, no big deal.

You would purposefully finish all of your work as fast as possible so you could sit back and draw him. And because you weren’t loud or annoying, and everything was always done on time and orderly, he let you.

But one mission in particular made him stressed out, and as you watched him filling out data about the anomaly he’d just captured, he glitched his suit down his torso and injected himself with that mysterious green liquid, entrancing you for those glorious few seconds.

It was very obvious he had a nice body, duh. But you never let your mind go too far in imagining him out of his suit, scared to go into a territory you couldn’t back out of.

And now you did, drawing his torso and pecks, shading his abs, and this got you curious about more.

Lower.

Biting your lip, you sat in the cafeteria a few days later. You purposefully sat with your back to a wall, making sure no one could sneak up on you and see what you were drawing, as you drew him laying down. His arms splayed behind his head, face relaxed, as you defined his leg muscles. As you finished the piece of art, the only area you’d avoided was his groin.

And now you stared at the empty area of art, knee bouncing from anxiety about how you were supposed to draw this. You had no reference for him. Yes, you’d seen dicks before, obviously. You lived in a universe with unrestricted internet access, so it’s not like you’d never been around the block, but here you were, blushing like a 15 year old just because of a dick.

Drawing and then erasing and drawing, you repeated the process a few times before you heard someone click their tongue in front of you. You’d been so consumed by what you were doing, you didn’t even feel your spider senses or hear them come close.

Miguel stood with an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips, eyeing you curiously. “Why are you so jumpy?” He asked and you snatched the book in front of you to your chest, stuttering some bullshit answer about too much caffeine. He just nodded and continued giving you a new order.

You got up from your seat and moved to follow him to his cold, dark lair area. As you were about to step onto his platform, you tripped and your hands flew out to stabilize your fall. As you did, the notebook flew across the floor and slid as your vision blurred from how fast you’d collapsed, getting up slowly and rolling your shoulders. You reached to where the sketch book had fallen, but it was no longer there.

No.

NO.

It was between his fingers, as he flipped through the pages slowly, eyeing your work with his brows furrowed, focused. You jumped towards him and he just turned his back, making you feel like you ran into a wall. You reached around him and he webbed your wrist to the table beside you, still not tearing his eyes from your work.

“Stop, that’s private! Give it back!” You shouted and he rolled his eyes briefly.

“It’s all drawings of me, I think I’m allowed to see-“ and his words stopped as he flipped to the newest page.

The nude drawing of him.

You gulped as his expression became unreadable, stoic, and your eyes flashed between the art and him. “I-I was just practicing forms and poses-“

“It’s… inaccurate.” He spoke lowly before your eyes blinked for a moment, confused.

“What do you mean?”

He walked to you and stood tall, bending down slightly to stare directly into your eyes. His mouth turned up at the ends and his eyes glittered with something you’d never seen in him before.

Turning the book back to you and showing you your own drawing, he smirked deeper.

“I’m much bigger.” His eyes were almost challenging you, making your blood run ice cold, and you felt his hands yank your body against his. “Do you want to see for reference?”

And then his watch made a loud sound, Lyla popping up to explain some anomaly on earth number whatever. He groaned and turned to walk out. “I’ll be back once this is done. Don’t go anywhere because When I do return, we’re continuing where we left off.”

Then he was gone and you stood, mouth agape from the whole exchange. You thought it might take a while for him to capture this anomaly, so You’d decided to go back to your own universe in preparation, showering and fixing yourself up. You bit your nail nervously as you thought about it all. Was he serious? No way, right…?

As you stood in the bathroom mirror, the sound of a portal opening cut through your mind like a knife, making your body rush into your living room. You gripped the towel tight around your torso as you saw Miguel walk out of the colorful dimension behind him and into yours. The portal closed and with that, his mask disintegrated so you could see his face. A bit tired, he still had a less-than-enthusiastic expression on.

“I thought I told you not to go anywhere.” He repeated and you stood stuff as a board, now a bit scared. He took slow, calculated steps towards you as your head tilted back to continue watching him. “Inaccurate and disobedient. I have a lot to teach you, don’t I?” His index finger hooked under your chin as he smirked and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling you into your bathroom. He looked around for a second before hitting a button on his watch and letting the fabric disappear.

You bit your lip as your eyes took full advantage of his exposed skin. “You- it-“

“Yeah. I know.” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around, bending you over your counter with your hand breached against your back. “Now I want you to really study how I fuck you, so that you get a good look at how big I am, and how easy I can maneuver this body.” He whispered into your damp hair and pushed down, then ripping the towel away and throwing it out of the bathroom completely.

His eyes stared down at your weeping cunt and he licked his lips. “I’ll be tasting you another time. Today, I want you to really feel my size.” He was cocky, and he had a right to be. His dick was huge, almost alarmingly big.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you clenched your jaw. “It’s gonna hurt, but I’ll go slow. That way you can feel good and still learn.” He cooed in a teasing tone and your eyes found his in the mirror, watching intently as he began to push into you. The sudden width he was stretching you to was mind numbing and your knees began to buckle, but he just held you up with one hand, the other still guiding himself into you.

“Coño, your sucking me in so nicely, might not even need to slow down.” He spoke and your eyes were rolling back from his words, to which you snapped out of once his hand that was holding you up held your face harshly towards the mirror. “No slacking, little girl. You better keep your eyes on my cock.”

Halfway inside, and you were already fluttering around him, on the verge of orgasm. “That’s it, sucia, cum on my cock. It’ll be the first time of many.” You shivered at his words, feeling him sink in further and immediately orgasming. The rolls of pleasure washing through you made him grunt as his hips couldn’t help but rut into you harshly. The lack of prep had you feeling everything he was giving you, hyper aware of your insides wrapping around him.

“Mm, wanna fuck me back? Grind back onto my cock? Paciencia, Nena.” He instructed as you kept trying to get him in further. Wrapping a hand around your torso, he tweeked at your nipples and made you gasp from the sensation. “That’s it,” he mumbled.

Finally, smirked, he chuckled darkly as you tried once more to thrust backwards. “Fine, you asked for it.” He met your eyes in the mirror, now blood red and swirling with the threat as he snapped his hips forward and forced the rest of him into you, making you gargle out a strained sound in shock and pleasure. The pain was beautiful, and began to subside quickly as you felt him twitch. He hit every spot and more, feeling new depths and points of pleasure.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as he started a slightly faster pace. Your body jiggled from the movements and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your apartment, your mouth hanging open as your eyes never left were his dick was buried into you. He smiled, enjoying the way you watched his cock disappear into you over and over, and you felt the pressure building once more. How he bullied your cunt and grinned while doing it made you burst, tears breaking free and a scream ripping through you as your pussy squeezed him.

“Fuck, so tight.” He groaned, head now falling back and he kept going, beginning to chase his own high. Your mind had shut off now, fucked practically stupid on his cock and he rocking into you mercilessly. His speed was unmatched and he moved to pick up your hips to meet his, closing the gap your height difference had created, and finally having him slam into you until his hips met your ass, making you choke on your own oxygen from the absolute brutal beating he was giving your cervix.

He slid one hand to the back of your neck and pressed you further into the counter top of your sink, forcing your pert nipples to meet the cold marble and you cried out more, barely able to push back against him now as you were trapped between his body and your bathroom’s confinements with only your top toes touching the floor. Your face was streaked with tears as he grunted and let out ragged breaths.

“The perfect little pussy, so perfect for my cock. You can take it, little artist. You wanted to draw my cock so badly, now you have the perfect image to do it. Fucked deep inside of you. Draw us like this for me, yeah? I wanna see it everyday. Or should I just fuck you every day instead?” His words tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche and you could feel his cock about to burst, making you teeter over that cliff as well. “That’s it, strangle my cock. Cum all over me, niña, paint me with your cute cunt.” He demanded and you obliged, feeling a shooting electric sensation rip out of you. Suddenly, you were both a bit wet between the thighs and he was mesmerized by what he saw. Your juices squirt all over him and he came instantly after seeing that, pounding into you as far as he could and forcing his cum the deepest it could be inside of you.

Both of you were unmoving as you caught your breath, a layer of sweat covering you both as you stared at each other in the mirror. No words could describe what had just happened and Miguel smiled once more, which prompted you to ask.

“What?”

“You need to get a mirror by your bed. Because I want to do this to you every day.” He watched your eyes widen in the mirror in front of you both as he licked your neck from behind and sinking his fangs into your soft skin, jutting his hips once more and making you realize he was still hard.

“For art purposes.”

Part two is out!

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #angst #miguel ohara smut #smut

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pascalpvnk · 2 months

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take it from me

pairing: latino!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.

warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.

word count: 3.3k

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.

Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.

However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.

But he’s cautious.

He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.

But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you.

You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor.

Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.

He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.

I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.

Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.

Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.

And he does.

His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.

At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.

“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.

The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.

“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”

It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.

“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”

“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”

With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.

“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”

Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.

“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”

You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.

Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later.

“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.

You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.

Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.

“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”

A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.

“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”

It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.

“I want you,” you cry simply.

“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.

“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”

Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze.

“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.

“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.

You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.

“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”

His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.

“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?

Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing.

Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.

Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.

“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.

“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.

“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”

“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.

Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.

“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.

“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.

He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off.

“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.

Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other.

“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes.

The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin.

Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.

“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.

“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants.

His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.

He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.

“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing.

He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.

“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”

The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.

“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.

“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.

Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.

You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure.

“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”

He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly.

“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.

“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.

His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.

“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.

“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan.

Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.

“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”

A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fic: take it from me

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thankskenpenders · 5 months

Note

Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.

#anon #ask #tkp asks #tkp post

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withleeknow · 2 months

Text

wishful thinking. (05)

chapter five: say what you mean

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, kissing, we’re starting to dip our toes into angsty territory !!, less edited than i’d like but what’s new lol word count: 2.8k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you’re ready My head’s getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you, I adore you

Adore - Dean Lewis

Whenever Minho asks if you two could hang out together at your place, it usually means that you will end up in your bed.

Tonight you suppose is no different.

Even though you often cap off the night having engaged in activities that could make the Victorian lady in Hyunjin faint, it’s not all that you do. Both you and Minho never let yourselves forget that you’re friends first and foremost. Sex is the added benefit that should never take anything away from your friendship. He is still one of the people you’re most comfortable with, one of the few people whose company you enjoy.

You’re sprawled out on the couch in your small living room when Minho returns from the kitchen with a plate of freshly peeled tangerines, the same ones that he brought over earlier. You push yourself to half-sit up so he could squeeze himself between you and the armrest, before you go back to laying your head on his lap as you two resume watching a bad movie that you put on.

“I hate this so much,” you comment, your eyes glued to the TV screen.

“You picked the movie,” Minho says. “It’s not that bad. The plot is kind of decent.”

“I’m not talking about that. Jeez, if they wanted to make a movie where the main character is a graphic designer, you’d think that they would at least consult someone who knows literally anything about visual art. Look at that horrendous typography job, the text isn’t even aligned with the edges and corners. This is hurting my soul.”

Your cushions (Minho’s thighs) shake lightly as he laughs at your dramatic outburst over something as trivial as a fictional character’s poor standards of digital art. But you really aren’t kidding; the way the woman on screen is butchering the text alignment is quite literally making that very particular part of your brain want to shut down for the next five to seven business days.

“They should’ve consulted you first, is that right?” Minho asks.

“They really should have. I could’ve done wonders for them,” you say matter-of-factly. “I almost majored in graphic design, y’know.”

You have a habit of biting your tongue around others because you know that people don’t really care about the same things you do. Whenever the opportunity arises for you to share tidbits about your interests, excitement would tumble out of you only to be quashed soon after when no one wants to listen to your silly little rambles. It’s disheartening, you’re used to it.

But you never feel that way around Minho. He always lets you babble on about anything and everything, even if he might not know what the hell you’re talking about. He indulges you. He never makes you feel neglected or ignored.

“Hmm, my little genius artist.” He taps your cheek once, and when you turn your head to glance at him, he tells you to open up before he slips a slice of tangerine past your lips. “You’re right. Even I can tell that it’s horrendous.”

You hum appreciatively when the sweetness of the juicy fruit floods your tastebuds. Minho’s hand trails down your arm to rest on your stomach, just below your ribs where he fiddles with the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. If he moves his hand up, he would be grazing your bare chest underneath your shirt. You didn’t bother with a bra because, well, comfort above all else, especially within the four walls of your own home. Besides, it’s nothing that Minho hasn’t seen anyway.

He keeps on feeding you tangerines in between your complaints about bad design standards until the movie ends and the plate is cleared. The only sound in the room is the soft music on the TV as the credits start to roll.

You turn to lie on your back, staring up at Minho. “That was deeply disturbing.”

“You chose it,” he reminds you. “You went in knowing what the premise was.”

“Yeah, I have no one to blame but me. I had too much faith in humanity.”

“And you call me weird.”

“You are weird,” you say. “But I like weird.”

Minho looks down at you and for a moment, he says nothing. His fingers trace something on your stomach. A heart or an odd circle, you don’t know; you’re always bad at deciphering those. His eyelids fall a bit, softening the usual sharpness of his gaze.

Then he’s pulling you by your shoulders, guiding you to sit up and before you know it, you’re situated on his lap with one of his hands on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. Minho tugs you closer, meeting your lips in a kiss in which you waste no time returning.

He’s sweet, like the tangerines that you were sharing all evening. It tends to start like this - sort of randomly, whenever it feels right. He squeezes your side in a comforting gesture as his tongue slips into your mouth. There are times where it’s more urgent, where one of you is needy and desperately seeks the escape and release that can only be found in the other’s embrace. Other times, it’s slower, more gentle, where you can really focus on making each other feel fully satiated.

This, right now - you would pinpoint somewhere in the middle. There’s no fiery clothes-ripping urge, nor a need to lay the other person bare and knead every single knot of stress from their system. Today, there’s just languid wanting; an unhurried inclination to be close.

Him and his tangerine flavored kiss, you and your resolve built on shaky foundation.

You start rolling your hips over his, tugging on his shirt because you want to feel his skin against yours. Minho stops you though; he puts both hands on your hips and pulls his lips away from yours. You blink, dazed, confused.

“I...” he starts, trying to even out his breathing as he finds the words. “I don’t want to have sex tonight.”

Embarrassment instantly washes over you. The rejection is a little humiliating; it’s the first time you’ve ever felt like this around him. Your cheeks catch fire from the mortification, and you’re very aware that you’re still sitting in his lap, right over his crotch.

Wanting to climb off of him and just fucking bury yourself in a ditch, you start stuttering like an absolute fool, “Oh... Y-yeah, no, of course! Shit, shit, I’m sorry. Of course we don’t have t-”

Minho holds you in place, one of the hands on your hips goes to cup your cheek to make you look at him. It effectively shuts you right up.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in an earnest apology. “I just want to keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s holding your face, your waist, so delicately. He looks drunk on your presence alone even though neither of you have had a single drop of alcohol tonight, so sincere in his simple request that you feel your heart swell tenfold.

You want it too. You’re more than okay with just kissing him.

You don’t answer him verbally. Instead, you just nod and move to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his soft hair. The sweetness of the tangerines grows more and more distant as you chase his lips, but you can taste his smile. It’s infinitely more saccharine, and it only grows sweeter when he holds you close and knocks the breath out of you.

When you pull away for air, you slump against him, hiding your face in the crook of his face, shy all of a sudden. He keeps you there but continues with his onslaught of kisses - on your hair, your cheek, your neck, anywhere his lips can reach. Like he simply can’t get enough of you.

“You really like kissing,” you comment, giggling quietly as you do. “Even when we… y’know, bone.”

“Bone? You’re so romantic, babe.” You feel the rumbles of Minho’s chest as he lets out a hearty laugh, the sound of which fills the space of your modest home, embeds itself in every nook and crevice, in between every minuscule crack in your walls until the whole place feels warmer, brighter somehow. “Are you complaining?”

“No... just pointing it out.”

“Well, I like kissing you,” he says. “You’re not a terrible kisser, I guess.”

You sit up straighter and catch the teasing grin on his face before you roll your eyes. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“Says the girl who uses ‘bone’ to describe sex.”

“It’s a perfectly good euphemism for ‘sex’.”

“You might as well just say ‘boink’.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Sure.”

Then he’s pressing his mischievous smile against your mouth once more, and you can’t really wrap your mind around how it’s even possible that he keeps getting sweeter and sweeter. His sugary kisses send warmth tingling up your spine, make a fluttery sensation erupt in your stomach. You’re lightheaded, and not the kind that can be remedied by a sufficient fix of blood oxygen.

Even though you’re perfectly content with kissing, there’s a certain implication that comes with only kissing that you’re not sure what to do with. He’s literally inside of you on a weekly basis and yet, this feels much more intimate than anything you two have ever done.

Because friends don’t kiss each other the way he’s kissing you right now. Friends don’t kiss each other the way you’re kissing him back.

A chime from your phone breaks you two apart, the intrusion forcing a mildly frustrated grunt from Minho. You find the mobile device hidden between the cushions of your couch, and after you quickly scan the notification on the screen, you tell him, “It’s Hyunjin.”

“What did I say? It’s always him at the scene of the crime,” Minho mutters, speaking in the same tone that one would when their sibling interrupts a round of their favorite video game. “What does he want?”

“Just wants me to send him a photo of the sample portfolio from our class.”

“Ignore him. He can wait.”

“He’ll call me if I don’t reply.”

“He’s so annoying,” Minho grumbles but loosens his hold on you nonetheless. “Hurry back.”

“It’ll only take a minute, you big baby,” you chuckle, pressing a swift peck to his lips before you get up from the couch and head toward your bedroom with your phone in hand, searching for the binder that Hyunjin is asking about.

Once you’ve snapped the picture and sent it to your friend, you return to the living room. When Minho hears your footsteps, he holds out an arm, silently beckoning you into his embrace again. And you do. You slide into the space next to him, slotting perfectly against his side.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace along his forearm until they reach his wrist. “This is pretty,” you say, touching the thin link bracelet that he always wears, the one with a small charm hanging off the center in the simple outline of a dove.

“You like it? I’ve had it for ages.”

“Mhmm, it suits you.”

A moment passes where you both sit in silence as you fiddle with the gold jewelry, and you can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time. After a while, he pries your fingers off his skin, only to swiftly take off the trinket.

“No, Min. What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you. You attempt (in vain) to pull your wrist back but Minho is stronger. He holds it in place as he clasps the chain around your wrist.

“Minho, you are not giving me your bracelet.”

“Relax. It’s not like it was passed down from my great-great-grandfather. It’s just a random bracelet I bought when I was 18.”

“Why would you even give me your bracelet?”

He shrugs, as though he’s merely doing something as simple as letting you borrow you a pen. “It looks good on you.”

You look down to where his hand is still on your skin, his thumb gently sliding over your pulse point as he admires how the dainty gold reflects the dim lighting in your home.

And he’s right. It does look good, but he probably doesn’t mean it in the same way that you’re thinking of right now. You think it looks good because it’s something that belongs to him that’s now wrapped snugly around your wrist, like some sort of affirmation spoken in a language that only the two of you can understand.

Minho leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead. It takes you by surprise, the way he does it as if it’s second nature to be this affectionate with you. It’s a tipping point, then suddenly your thoughts are running rampant.

The instruction has always been plain and simple: No strings attached.

But...

The chaste kisses with no expectation of sex, being protective when you’re in the presence of other guys, even giving you his bracelet to wear just because you said it was pretty.

Why do all of these sound an awful lot like strings?

You hesitate, then you ask, “What are we doing?”

“Hmm? You wanna watch another movie?”

“No, that’s not... What are we doing?” You don’t even know what word to put more emphasis on.

Minho looks at you and loosens his fingers. What he can’t understand through your words, you think he sees it in your eyes. “Say what you mean.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course we are.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Do you not want to be friends anymore?” He cracks a smile, but you can tell that he’s just doing it to lighten you up. “You have terrible timing. I literally just gave you a bracelet.”

“Friends don’t do that.”

“Friends don’t give each other bracelets?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

Minho seems a bit taken aback, though he regains his composure in mere seconds, his voice calm as he tells you, “Friends don’t have sex either.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. What are you saying? You brought it up.”

You open your mouth, only to subsequently close it because your thoughts were never really that coherent in the first place. You look away from him to glance down at your wrist.

“You’re being confusing,” Minho says quietly, honestly.

“I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

“Did anything change for you?” he asks.

“No,” is what you tell him after a long minute, when what you really mean to say is I don’t know. You can see it as it happens, some stars fading from his eyes, some light growing more faint in his irises. Though the despondence on his face disappears so fast that you’re not sure if it was even there at all, or if it was only a figment of your imagination.

Then you throw the question back at him. “Did anything change? For you?”

Minho’s answer is the same as yours - a clear No - and yet, it makes you feel like you’ve been punctured by something sharp. You don’t know why your heart drops upon hearing him say the exact same thing that you did, but you try not to let it show on your face. Your poker face isn’t anywhere as good as his, but you hope that it’s enough.

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod a little.

“Then nothing’s changed.” He strokes your hair, emphasizing his point with a soft smile as he reassures you, “And nothing has to change. It’s a bracelet, don’t overthink it. We’re good.”

Sometimes, the decisions you make are bad because you can foresee the outcomes, or at least, you have an idea of the consequences will be later on and yet, you still choose to go through with it anyway.

Just like how you chose to watch a movie you knew would drive you crazy with its trivial details, you choose to accept the feeling of Minho’s bracelet around your wrist. You choose to believe him when he said nothing has changed, and that nothing has to change. You choose to sweep under the rug the thoughts that you’ve been having about him lately. You choose to overlook the reason why you’ve been having those thoughts instead of facing it head-on because you’re terrified of what you’d find if you dig deeper.

You choose to let the conversation end here though it still lingers in your mind, and you choose to let him kiss you goodnight when he leaves because tonight has already been a series of bad decision after bad decision anyway.

And when you fall asleep, it’s the soothing coolness of the golden dove against your skin that lulls you to slumber, like he’s here right beside you to hold you through the night.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

series taglist: @eyesforlino @armystay89 @nuronhe @becomingmina @astro-doll-the-star @hyuneyeon @jisunglyricist @yoontaethings @thisisnotjacinta @cupidcure @wyzminho

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critterbitter · 4 months

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What do you know- I'm trying out the askbox *eyes*

anyway I just wanted to say that high-key I think I'd follow any content you make at this point bc your art brings me so much joy. That doesn't tend to happen super often since i am,,,, very much so a hyperfixation-focused person HAHA

regardless I'm not exactly quiet about it but I adore your art and I look forward to each new time you post :D

I WISH i had the capability of pumping out art like you do bc man while I love to draw and have so many ideas all the time picking up the pencil is Hard Dude.

Also! In a recent post you mentioned the whole Twin Dragons AU and HC that people love to have- I'd be super curious as to your opinion on it!

-( ╹▽╹ )

I SEE YOUR TAGS AND IM.

I’ll have to slow down at some point on that Submas Grind, but the hyperfixation throes are REAL. Thank you for inhabiting the tunnels with me! People that tag and cheer artists on are the real mvps of the art economy.

As for twin dragon aus!

I’ve always seen Emmet as more zekrom esque, and Ingo more reshiram esque. Is it cause the typing matches their starters? Maybe, hehe.

Ultimately though, the guys are too multifaceted for me to easily split them into truth and ideals.

I also see the legendaries as Eldritch Abominations Beyond Understanding, so having the dragons in my iteration become the twins would, uh, have consequences. The funny goofy story would dip into horror territory instead. (Reshiram demands only truths, and anything not Absolute will burn. And zekrom’s ideals are beyond human understanding, and trying to understand the mad tangle of thunder would drive somebody insane.)

(I’m a huge tma fan. Can you see it? Man.)

((Also N’s a scary mofo for summoning reshiram. I’m digging directly into the whole “twin heroes have a civil war and it destroyed unova” backstory that pokemon set up, and the more I think about it the stronger my dread mounts at the idea of Zekrom OR Reshiram casually flying overhead.

But this is also just how I see the legendaries of the pokemon world! Lugia sinks islands. Groudon covers towns. Arceus loves the mortal world, and mourns because its immortality only brings grief. Giritina hates, because it’s the ghostly remains of every one of Arceus’s mistakes given drive, banished into the distortion realm. Normal stuff!)

You sly dog, you got me monologing! But here’s the tldr: Not sure i’ll ever make my own serious Dragon AU that follows my internal world building for pokemon. I’m too attached to my favorite trope: “the smallest people can still initiate the biggest of changes”, and I’m too attached to my other favorite trope: “legendaries are actually gods and you Should Be Frightened.”

So that’s why, in this essay, if the trio gets turned into pokemon, I’d make them route 1 run of the mill rats. Because rats can do whatever they want.

(Plus, patrats and pachirisu aren’t banned from the subway battles last I checked.)

If i had to make a goofy crack dragon au though, I think this would be the result:

The whole story would just be the trio and historians trying to figure out what the hell the twins got turned into, and concerns of other people becoming pokemon as well. So far, people are convinced they’re a paradox version of an archen. (I mean…)

(Alternate take of THAT, where elesa gets turned into a victini.)

#long rambling talk under cut!#click at your own peril #ask #mailbox #i have feelings for forces of nature that shape the pokemon workd #benevolent gods. apathetic gods. malicious gods…. mMMz #pokemon #guess this counts as submas!#submas #nimbasa trio #my two hot takes on the twin dragons au #critterbitter #critterbitter screams into the void #myart

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

So this whole situation gets rather complicated and quick, so please bear with me… TW for mention of suicide.

I (20m) previously made friends with a younger artist (about 17f by now if I’m remembering correctly; please keep an open mind here) after being unaware of their age and just following them for their art for a few years. One day, when I was 18 and I believe they were maybe 15-16, I reached out to let them know that I had been deeply influenced by their art and thought a lot of their work was very fun and humorous, and we kept in contact afterward mostly through public chat spaces, just joking around with each other and sharing art and memes and the like.

I want to stress that I had absolutely zero foul intentions here. They were a lonely kid without many friends, and I felt for them; I went through a lot of the same shitty situations (namely an abusive home) they were actively going through, and genuinely all I wanted was to offer them a safe space and a friend. I know that people sometimes get weird about friendships across age gaps, but I sincerely only wanted to help where I could. To this day I’m still not sure if I went about it the right way, but that’s a discussion for my therapist and not for here.

Fast forward some time. I discover that the other artist didn’t have a lot of friends for various reasons that were all linked mostly back to their immaturity, which I didn’t mind considering that they were. Y’know. Kids. But part of this immaturity was just… not understanding time restraints and boundaries, and that reflected back at me, despite multiple instances of me sitting them down and having talks with them about it as gently as I could. These talks were usually just about them messaging me constantly, literally non-stop, in the middle of the night, during school hours, etc etc etc. During this time, I became sick — very sick. I stand now chronically ill and permanently disabled. I was sick, scared, and exhausted, and yet I was expected by this friend to talk to them literally constantly, or else they would get upset. And it took a further toll on my ailing health, because no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I physically couldn’t talk to them as much as they were demanding I do, it never seemed to resonate.

I started reaching out less and less, because I just physically couldn’t handle talking to someone That Much for That Long… It wasn’t personal. It came to a point where our chats went completely silent, and even if I did reach out to try and talk, they wouldn’t reply or would only do so in very short, clipped responses. So I respected the obvious decision they had come to and just… kind of stopped trying to reach out. I was still a follower of theirs, though, so I would visit their profile every now and then just to make sure they were doing okay as a means to soothe my own worries.

Then they made a post alluding to offing themselves, went radio silent across all their platforms for a few days despite my best efforts to reach out, until I tried to check up on them again and found myself blocked everywhere. This made me panic; I genuinely didn’t know what to do. It took me a while to even remember that I could just… log in to a new account online rather than the app to check up on them, and after a few weeks of doing this, I was relieved to find that they’re still doing okay and back to posting semi-regularly. I don’t know the details, but at least they’re alive, y’know? That’s all that matters to me. Now, I just try to check every month or so to make sure they’re okay, and I’ll send them little anon messages trying to uplift them, or tell them to stay strong… I’m aware that it probably falls under stalker territory or something, but I genuinely only want the best for them, and as it stands, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas for how to at least make sure that they’re okay…

Anyway… I’m making this post because there was another “AITA” post that got torn apart by people for someone evading a block for some reason or another, and I guess I was just compelled to see if this story would get a similar reaction… 🤷‍♂️

So yeah. AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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cuntess-carmilla · 1 year

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That person also said that caring whether something is Real Goth or not is silly and ykw, I would agree to that IF actual goth music had a fighting chance against everything else that gets constantly mislabeled as goth, but that's just not how it is. Metal, Industrial, and almost any other form of dark alternative music is much more mainstream than goth and we're constantly fighting against honest to God extinction.

It's not that when you go to a night advertised as a goth night you'll hear an equal amount of goth, EBM, Industrial, Metal and Alternative Rock. It's not even that you'll hear most of those other genres and very little goth. I wish!

You can go to any night advertised as a goth night without hearing A SINGLE goth song, from 10 pm to 6 am. And it's not like, a travesty that happens sometimes, it's the norm. The absolute RARITY is going to a goth night that plays a minimum of 45% unquestionable goth music with the rest being debatable or outright not goth at all. I end up jumping in excitement and glee at even the most BASIC goth song being played in a supposed goth night once.

I've said this before but Sisters of Mercy, which pretty much is to goth what Megadeth or Slayer are to Thrash Metal, is touring in NIGHTCLUBS. Fucking imagine Slayer attempting to fit a singular Thrash Metal scene into a small underground nightclub. I saw Two Witches play at a shitty underground BAR. You can argue that they're not as universally liked among goths as Sisters of Mercy and Bauhaus, but they're still legends in the scene who've been active since 1987 non-stop.

The new artists goths get UNIVERSALLY excited for have 55-75k monthly listeners in Spotify at best. Drab Majesty and She Past Away are an exception at... 113k and 223k respectively. Compare that to even Nu Metal revival bands coming out now. Compare that to the most mid Symphonic Metal or EBM bands.

We simply have NO fighting chance if we don't get more territorial and don't literally campaign to not be pushed out and erased. This isn't me bragging; we're a severely underground scene. I wish we weren't! But we are.

Successful goth nights in terms of attendance are PATHETIC compared to the numbers that emo nights pull, and unlike emos, a huge portion of goths actually remain consistently goth throughout adulthood and our subculture is older and more superficially hypervisible. On average goths tend to remain living an alternative lifestyle consistently while most emo adults are at most emo on weekends bimonthly. We either get territorial and firm, or we're fully pushed out and stomped over, and the music we love dies out.

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bird-inacage · 2 months

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Net x James: An important reminder that BL partnerships consist of two individuals and they are not just a single entity.

So the Netjames news has been a notable bombshell in the fandom of late, and I've been quietly observing this as it unfolded earlier this week, particularly the varying reactions and discourse around it.

In his statement, James explained that his current career goals are moving in a different direction, which has resulted in him pulling out of 'Love Upon a Time', and by extension his acting partnership with Net. He wants to explore his other avenues as an artist, whereas Net is presumably focused on acting for now.

With BL partnerships, we often see the two co-stars tied at the hip. Its part of the gig and it comes with the territory. They don't just work together on their project, but they do a huge amount of activity (both public and private) outside of that. They travel, perform, they do fan meets, press events, and spend a huge amount of time together as a twosome. So we get accustomed to seeing them as a united entity, which means news like this tends to hit harder because it feels akin to a divorce. This is one of the pitfalls of the Thai BL industry. When you create a narrative around two people who exclusively come as a package, it makes it incredibly difficult for both the actors themselves and fans to accept or make peace with any possible deviation from that. I think it's natural for any actor or artist to desire collaboration with different people: to develop their craft, to further their experience, to broaden their versatility. If sticking to only one working partner 'for life' doesn't work for them, I completely empathise with that.

In their recent Instagram lives, Net and James were clearly sad and their feelings still very raw. This led to a lot of speculation regarding any ill-feeling or fall out between the two. But such accusations can be harmful. Even in an amicable or mutual break-up where ending a relationship is in both parties' best interests - the two people involved are still grieving. Being brutally honest and transparent with someone close to you, that things can no longer continue as they are, isn't easy. If fans feel upset, just imagine how difficult this is on them both. When you've been nurtured as a partnership from the get go, your co-star whose always been at your side provides a sense of safety and familiarity. And the prospect of now moving forward without them is a scary new unknown. On top of that, they probably feel an immense amount of pressure and guilt in digesting the potential fallout and response from their fans. There will be trepidation in how well their careers will fare in the immediate aftermath.

Despite this, there are also positives to be taken from this decision. Arguably, Net and James were still in the early stages of their partnership. Bed Friend really put them on the map as a couple. So for James to come forward with this realisation now, before they got too established as a pairing was a responsible thing to do. I'm sure the last thing anyone wants is for their favourite artists to feel stuck or obliged to continue working together, which would undoubtedly lead to feelings of resentment eventually.

So respectfully, these instances are not to be taken personally or to be deemed as a betrayal of your support. After all, what we know of these artists is only a very small piece of their identities as people. It's okay to be devastated, but be respectful of their wishes. You can choose to continue supporting them as individuals, or choose to no longer support them at all - either way, you are perfectly valid and entitled to your choice, just extend the same courtesy back and be mindful of casting unfair judgement on their choice.

For me, it is admittedly a shame because I did see great potential in them both as a pair, and they had fantastic chemistry which could have been nurtured with more time and experience. Regardless, I truly believe they both have immense love for one another, and I wish them both the very best. They've just come to terms with the fact they no longer share the same vision for what they want in their careers. And that's okay.

(I will always be grateful that they gave us THIS iconic moment).

#netjames #james supamongkon #james su #net siraphop #net x james #james x net #thai BL news #love upon a time #bed friend #catch me baby #BL meta

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catnippackets · 6 months

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My sister in law and I once had a very deep chat where she told me she's a bit jealous of how I'm "capable" of obsessing over interests; I got the feeling that to her it seemed like a specific type of joy she would never really know. In turn, I told her that even though I sometimes wish it had an off switch, I rlly can't imagine a version of myself thay doesn't get joyfully hyperfixated on things, since it's so intrinsic to my personality/neuro-chemistry.

Anyways, I totally relate to that feeling of detached embarrassment, but it was eye-opening to talk abt it with her and see that A) some people really admire the capacity for such "passion" and B) some people genuinely just can't have that experience, which seems both unthinkable and obvious lol

I genuinely can't imagine a life like that for myself either. I've gone through periods of time before where I wasn't hyperfixated on something and genuinely I felt like...deeply empty the entire time. As soon as something new entered my life to fixate on I felt like myself again. I definitely have interests and hobbies that I enjoy in a very normal non-obsessive way but it feels so different and they don't feel like...sustainable. like I'm just living off of bread and milk. idk how else to phrase that. because the things I always hyperfixate on are tv shows and fictional characters I kind of just assumed it came with the territory of being an artist, cuz as a creator it's like...this is what I'm meant to do with my life, right? I know I'm supposed to be telling stories and creating characters and exploring concepts through fiction so it makes perfect sense that I'm depressed without any source of inspiration or rejuvenation. Cuz it's inspiring as hell to be hyperfixated on something!! it gives me endless energy and inspiration to create and that makes me feel amazing.

most of my friends are ND too but I know some of them aren't the same as me in this regard and they've even expressed similar jealousy that they're not someone who obsesses over things. it's both understandable and so weird to me cuz obviously you can't pick and choose what your brain is gonna latch on to but like...you haven't even had ONE time in your life where you spent years only thinking about one thing? not even once? that's unfathomable to me, that's like my entire life.

and while I definitely do not enjoy the embarrassment of having feelings and how upsetting it can be to constantly be distracted from real life tasks that take priority and also feeling self conscious and wondering if I even have a personality sometimes beyond my fave video games/shows/movies, I'm really glad that I'm someone who can experience it cuz it really does feel like I'm just sitting around and waiting if I don't have a story to think about all the time. sometimes I hear people talk about how stressful and sad it is that they feel so deeply and I'm like yeah I mean sometimes but like...what about the joy. what about all the love. there's nothing sad about it! embarrassing sometimes yeah but that's worth it if it means I get to be so deeply happy and excited! I'll complain from time to time but never in a THOUSAND years would I ever want to change this about myself. I will take all the embarrassing annoying feelings if it means I get to experience pure wild autistic joy haha

#ask #Anonymous

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gemsofgreece · 5 months

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Can you make a post about the evolution of Greek art from the ancient times until now in modern age?

Because we often talk about the evolution of art but unfortunately we don't appreciate after ancient times the other art movements Greece went through the centuries.

That’s true! I am sorry for taking ages to answer this but I don't know how it could take me less anyway hahaha I made this post with summaries about all artistic eras in Greek history. I have most of it under a cut because with the addition of pictures it got super long, but if you are interested in the history of art I recommend giving it a try! I took advantage of all 30 pictures that can be possibly attached in a tumblr post and I tried to cover as many eras and art styles as possible, nearly dying in the process ngl XD I dedicated a few more pictures in modern art, a) because that was the ask and b) because there is more diversity in the styles that are used and the works that are available to us in great condition in modern times.

History of Greek Art

Greek Neolithic Art (c. 7000 - 3200 BC)

Obviously, with this term we don’t mean there were people identifying as Greeks in Neolithic times, but it defines the Neolithic art corresponding to the Greek territory. Art in this era is mostly functional, there are progressively more and more defined designs on clay pots, tools and other utility items. Clay and obsidian are the most used materials.

Clay vase with polychrome decoration, Dimini, Magnesia, Late or Final Neolithic (5300-3300 BC).

Cycladic Art (3300 - 1100 BC)

The art of the Cycladic civilisation of the Aegean Islands is characterized by the use of local marble for the creation of sculptures, idols and figurines which were often associated to womanhood and female deities. Cycladic art has a unique way of incidentally feeling very relevant, as it resembles modern minimalism.

Early Cycladic II (Keros-Syros culture, 2800–2300 BC)

Minoan Art (3000-1100 BC)

The advanced Minoan civilisation of Crete island was projecting its confidence and its vibrancy through its various arts. Minoan art was influenced by the earlier Egyptian and Near East cultures nearby and at its peak it overshadowed the rest of the contemporary cultures and their artistic movements in Greece. Colourful, with numerous scenes of everyday life and island life next to the sea, it was telling of the society’s prosperity.

The Bull-leaping fresco from Knossos, 1450 BC.

Mycenaean Art (c. 1750 - 1050 BC)

Mycenaean Art was very influenced by Minoan Art. Mycenaean art diverged and distinguished itself more in warcraft, metalwork, pottery and the use of gold. Even when similar, you can tell them apart from their themes, as Mycenaean art was significantly more war-centric.

The Mask of Agamemnon in the National Archaeological Museum of Athens. The mask likely was crafted around 1550 BC so it predates the time Agamemnon perhaps lived.

Geometric Art (1100 - 700 BC)

Corresponding to a period we have comparatively too little data about, the Geometric Period or the Homeric Age or the Greek Dark Ages, geometric art was characterized by the extensive use of geometric motifs in ceramics and vessels. During the late period, the art becomes narrative and starts featuring humans, animals and scenes meant to be interpreted by the viewer.

Detail from Geometric Krater from Dipylon Cemetery, Athens c. 750 BC Height 4 feet (Metropolitan Museum, New York)

Archaic Art (c. 800 - 480 BC)

The art of the archaic period became more naturalistic and representational. With eastern influences, it diverged from the geometric patterns and started developing more the black-figure technique and later the red-figure technique. This is also the earliest era of monumental sculpture.

Achilles and Ajax Playing a Board Game by Exekias, black-figure, ca. 540 B.C.

Kroisos Kouros, c. 530 B.C.

Classical Art (c. 480 - 323 BC)

Art in this era obtained a vitality and a sense of harmony. There is tremendous progress in portraying the human body. Red-figure technique definitively overshadows the use of the black-figure technique. Sculptures are notable for their naturalistic design and their grandeur.

The Diskobolos or Discus Thrower, Roman copy of a 450-440 BCE Greek bronze by Myron recovered from Emperor Hadrian’s Villa in Tivoli, Italy. (British Museum, London). Photo by Mary Harrsch.

Terracotta bell-krater, Orpheus among the Thracians, ca. 440 BCE, The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Hellenistic Art (323 - 30 BCE)

Hellenistic art perfects classical art and adds more diversity and nuance to it, something that can be explained by the rapid geographical expansion of Greek influence through Alexander’s conquests. Sculpture, painting and architecture thrived whereas there is a decrease in vase painting. The Corinthian style starts getting popular. Sculpture becomes even more naturalistic and expresses emotion, suffering, old age and various other states of the human condition. Statues become more complex and extravagant. Everyday people start getting portrayed in art and sculpture without extreme beauty standards imposed. We know there was a huge rise in wall painting, landscape art, panel painting and mosaics.

Mosaic from Thmuis, Egypt, created by the Ancient Greek artist Sophilos (signature) in about 200 BC, now in the Greco-Roman Museum in Alexandria, Egypt. The woman depicted in the mosaic is the Ptolemaic Queen Berenike II (who ruled jointly with her husband Ptolemy III) as the personification of Alexandria.

Agesander, Athenodore and Polydore: Laocoön and His Sons, 1st century BC

Greco-Roman Art (30 BC - 330 AD)

This period is characterized by the almost entire and mutually influential merging of Greek and Roman artistic expression, in light of the Roman conquest of the Hellenistic world. For this era, it is hard to find sources exclusively for Greek art, as often even art crafted by Greeks of the Roman Empire is described as Roman. In general, Greco-Roman art reinforces the new elements of Hellenistic art, however towards the end of the era, with the rise of early Christianity in the Eastern aka the Greek-influenced part of the empire, there are some gradual shifts in the art style towards modesty and spirituality that will in time lead to the Byzantine art. During this era mosaics become more loved than ever.

A mosaic from the island of Kos (the birthplace of Hippocrates) depicting Hippocrates (seated) and a fisherman greeting the god Asklepios (center) as he either arrives or disembarks from the island. Second or third century CE.

Introduction to Byzantine Art

Byzantine art originated and evolved from the now Christian Greek culture of the Eastern Roman Empire. Although the art produced in the Byzantine Empire was marked by periodic revivals of a classical aesthetic, it was above all marked by the development of a new aesthetic defined by its salient "abstract", or anti-naturalistic character. If classical art was marked by the attempt to create representations that mimicked reality as closely as possible, Byzantine art seems to have abandoned this attempt in favor of a more symbolic approach. The subject matter of monumental Byzantine art was primarily religious and imperial: the two themes are often combined.

Early Byzantine Art (330 - 842 AD)

The establishment of the Christian religion results in a new artistic movement, centered around the faith. However, ancient statuary remains appreciated. Most fundamental changes happen in monumental architecture, the illustration of manuscripts, ivory carving and silverwork. Exceptional mosaics become integral in artistic expression. The last 100 years of this period are defined by the Iconoclasm, which temporarily restricts entirely the previously thriving figural religious art.

Mosaics in the Rotunda of Thessaloniki, 4th - 6th century AD.

Macedonian Art & Komnenian Age (843 - 1204 AD)

These artistic periods correspond to the middle Byzantine period. After the end of the Iconoclasm, there is a revival in the arts. The art of this period is frequently called Macedonian art, because it occurred during the Macedonian imperial dynasty which generally brought a lot of prosperity in the empire. There was a revival of interest in the depiction of subjects from classical Greek mythology and in the use of Hellenistic styles to depict religious subjects. The Macedonian period also saw a revival of the late antique technique of ivory carving. The following Komnenian dynasty were great patrons of the arts, and with their support Byzantine artists continued to move in the direction of greater humanism and emotion. Ivory sculpture and other expensive mediums of art gradually gave way to frescoes and icons, which for the first time gained widespread popularity across the Empire. Apart from painted icons, there were other varieties - notably the mosaic and ceramic ones.

Paris Psalter, 10th century AD. Prophet Isaiah from the Old Testament in the company of the symbolisms for night (clear inspiration drawn from the ancient deity Nyx) and morning (Orthros, not to be confused with the mythological creature).

Palaeologan Renaissance (1261 - 1453)

The Palaeologan Renaissance is the final period in the development of Byzantine art. Coinciding with the reign of the Palaeologi, the last dynasty to rule the Byzantine Empire (1261–1453), it was an attempt to restore Byzantine self-confidence and cultural prestige after the empire had endured a long period of foreign occupation. The legacy of this era is observable both in Greek culture after the empire's fall and in the Italian Renaissance. Contemporary trends in church painting favored intricate narrative cycles, both in fresco and in sequences of icons. The word "icon" became increasingly associated with wooden panel painting, which became more frequent and diverse than fresco and mosaics. Small icons were also made in quantity, most often as private devotional objects.

Detail of Anástasis (Resurrection) fresco, c. 1316–1321, Chora church, Constantinople (Istanbul) (photo: byzantologist).

Cretan School (15th - 17th century)

Cretan School describes an important school of icon painting, under the umbrella of post-Byzantine art, which flourished while Crete was under Venetian rule during the Late Middle Ages, reaching its climax after the Fall of Constantinople, becoming the central force in Greek painting during the 15th, 16th and 17th centuries. By the late 15th century, Cretan artists had established a distinct icon-painting style, distinguished by "the precise outlines, the modelling of the flesh with dark brown underpaint, the bright colours in the garments, the geometrical treatment of the drapery and, finally, the balanced articulation of the composition". Contemporary documents refer to two styles in painting: the maniera greca (in line with the Byzantine idiom) and the maniera latina (in accordance with Western techniques), which artists knew and utilized according to the circumstances. Sometimes both styles could be found in the same icon. The most famous product of the school was the painter Domenikos Theotokopoulos, internationally known as El Greco, whose art evolved and diverged significantly in his later years when he moved in Spain and was involved in the Spanish Renaissance, and though it often alienated his western contemporary artists, nowadays it is viewed as an incidental early birth of Impressionism in the mid of the Renaissance’s peak.

Icon by Andreas Pavias (1440-1510), Cretan School, from Candia (Venetian Kingdom of Crete). The Latin inscription suggests the icon was meant for commercial purposes in Western Europe. National Museum, Athens. (Source: https://russianicons.wordpress.com/tag/cretan-school/)

Crucifixion (detail), El Greco (Doménikos Theotokópoulos), ca. 1604 - 1614.

Heptanesian School (17th - 19th century)

The Heptanesian school succeeded the Cretan School as the leading school of Greek post-Byzantine painting after Crete fell to the Ottomans in 1669. Like the Cretan school, it combined Byzantine traditions with an increasing Western European artistic influence and also saw the first significant depiction of secular subjects. The center of Greek art migrated urgently to the Heptanese (Ionian) islands but countless Greek artists were influenced by the school including the ones living throughout the Greek communities in the Ottoman Empire and elsewhere in the world. Greek art was no longer limited to the traditional maniera greca dominant in the Cretan School. Furthermore, the Heptanesian school was the basis for the emergence of new artistic movements such as the Greek Rocco and Greek Neoclassicism. The movement featured a mixture of brilliant artists.

Archangel Michael, Panagiotis Doxaras, 18th century.

Greek Romanticism (19th century)

Modern Greek art, after the establishment of the Greek Kingdom, began to be developed around the time of Romanticism. Greek artists absorbed many elements from their European colleagues, resulting in the culmination of the distinctive style of Greek Romantic art, inspired by revolutionary ideals as well as the country's geography and history.

Vryzakis Theodoros, The Exodus from Missolonghi, 1853. National Gallery, Athens.

The Munich School (19th century Academic Realism)

After centuries of Ottoman rule, few opportunities for an education in the arts existed in the newly independent Greece, so studying abroad was imperative for artists. The most important artistic movement of Greek art in the 19th century was academic realism, often called in Greece "the Munich School" because of the strong influence from the Royal Academy of Fine Arts of Munich where many Greek artists trained. In academic realism the imperative is the ethography, the representation of urban and/or rural life with a special attention in the depiction of architectural elements, the traditional cloth and the various objects. Munich School painters were specialized on portraiture, landscape painting and still life. The Munich school is characterized by a naturalistic style and dark chiaroscuro. Meanwhile, at the time we observe the emergence of Greek neoclassicism and naturalism in sculpture.

Nikolaos Gyzis, Learning by heart, 1883.

Rallis Theodoros, The Booty, before 1906.

20th Century Modern & Contemporary Greek Art

At the beginning of the 20th century the interest of painters turned toward the study of light and color. Gradually the impressionists and other modern schools increased their influence. The interest of Greek painters, artists changes from historical representations to Greek landscapes with an emphasis on light and colours so abundant in Greece. Representatives of this artistic change introduce historical, religious and mythological elements that allow the classification of Greek painting into modern art. The era of the 1930s was a landmark for the Greek painters. The second half of the 20th century has seen a range of acclaimed Greek artists too serving the movements of surrealism, metaphysical art, kinetic art, Arte Povera, abstract excessionism and kinetic sculpture.

Yiannis Moralis, Two friends, 1946.

Art by Giannis Gaitis (1923-1984), famous for his uniformed little men.

By Yorghos Stathopoulos (1944 - )

Art (detail) by Nikos Engonopoulos (1907 - 1985)

Folk, Modern Ecclesiastical and Secular Post-Byzantine Art

Ecclesiastical art, church architecture, holy painting and hymnology follow the order of Greek Byzantine tradition intact. Byzantine influence also remained pivotal in folk and secular art and it currently seems to enjoy a rise in national and international interest about it.

A modern depiction of the legendary hero Digenes Akritas depicted in the style of a Byzantine icon by Greek artist Dimitrios Skourtelis. Credit: Dimitrios Skourtelis / Reddit

Erotokritos and Aretousa by folk artist Theophilos (1870-1934)

Example of Modern Greek Orthodox murals, Church of St. Nicholas.

Ancient Greek philosophers depicted in iconographic fashion in one of Meteora’s monasteries. Each is holding a quote from his work that seems to foreshadow Christ. Shown from left to right are: Homer, Thucydides, Aristotle, Plato and Plutarch. This is not as weird as it may initially seem: it was a recurrent belief throughout the history of Christian Greek Orthodoxy that the great philosophers of the world heralded Jesus' birth in their writings - it was part of the eras of biggest reconciliation between Greek Byzantinism and Classicism.

Prophet Elijah icon with Chariot of Fire, Handmade Greek Orthodox icon, unknown iconographer. Source

If you see this, thanks very much for reading this post. Hope you enjoyed!

#greece #art #europe #history #culture #greek art #artists #greek culture #history of art #classical art #ancient greek art #byzantine greek art #christian art #orthodox art #modern art #modern greek art #anon #ask

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trungles · 1 year

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Your art brings me a sense of nostalgia for something that was never mine, but that I somehow miss all the same... I don't think I'm making any sense, but you have a beyond captivating style. Do you have a shop or any other way to support you?

My Patreon is where I make longer, more involved posts about my process. It's where I put most of my commentary and behind-the-scenes stuff, and I tend to post stuff from projects that I'm working on and haven't been released just yet. I'm working on writing more posts that are free to the public so people can subscribe to it like a newsletter without having to pay for it.

My INPRNT Store is where you can buy prints of my work. I love INPRNT's print quality. It's the best. Plus, INPRNT gives artists the biggest cut of any print service I can recall - 50% for art prints, 40% for canvas prints, and 30% for metal and acrylic prints. They're great.

My debut graphic novel, The Magic Fish, has won a bunch of awards, and I still find myself doing a lot of author talks and tours in new language territories for it. I'm immensely proud of it. If you can't buy it, please request it at your local libraries. Requesting and checking out books at libraries is a fantastic way to support authors because it encourages the library to keep it in circulation! This has become especially important nowadays since book banning efforts have occasionally swept this book up in their lists because of its queer themes and exploration of immigrant experiences. This book is available in English, French, Italian, Korean, Brazilian Portuguese, and eventually German and Spanish (I think?) as well.

My Tarot Deck, The Star Spinner Tarot, was my first project published through a traditional book publisher! It was the project I started right out of college to teach myself how to be an illustrator, so I'm still very fond of every image I created for it. I would try and order it through a brick-and-mortar bookstore if possible because there are a TON of knock-off decks circulating around the world for some reason. I've linked to Powell's here. There are two official versions, one in English and one in French (Le tarot des royaumes célestes).

#ask trungles #patreon #newsletter #the magic fish #star spinner tarot #chronicle books #penguin random house #artists on tumblr

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yanchive · 5 months

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I got permission to expand on this idea, so I'm gunna share my thoughts and what I came up with regarding this cool idea. I got the concept of this from the OP of the previous post, @coveredinsoot , so credits goes to them. I used he/him for the Yan, and they/them for the Darling so all readers can enjoy. I haven't written something like this in ages. Forgive me.

TW: Yandere themes(obv), mentions of drug use(non consentual), minor mentions of sexual themes, not proofread very well I wrote this first thing in the morning. I hadn't even gotten out of bed lmao

-A recap of my tags in the previous post, my idea followed the premise of a yan whose darling is an employee working under the record label/idol agency(whichever one you prefer) he is signed onto. They could have a position working somewhat in the same sphere as their Yan. My first thought was maybe a touring staff, but I felt specifically that they could be a photographer who was hired solely to work under Yans label.

-They do the shooting for promos, they participate in the creation of music videos, go on tours to get photos at concerts, etc. They work alongside Yan, but rarely interact outside of the professional setting. Darling has a job they have to do, and getting personal with the artist they're assigned to work under is a risky thing, so they choose to keep their casual interactions to a minimal to avoid scandals.

-While Darling is putting their attention all into their career, Yan is forced to get his unrequited feelings out via music. Filling notebooks after notebooks with sickingly sweet words, turning them into lyrics that get pumped out to fans, who all imagine themselves as the reciever of such romantic tales of woe.

-Yan constantly sneaks details about his Darling into his music, from mentioning small physical traits on their body like the color of their hair and eyes, to maybe even scars and birthmarks no one would or should know unless they've seen them partially or fully naked. They would constantly bring up traits revolving around the Darlings personality most of the time, but no matter how many details they place in their songs, it just seems to go over Darlings head

-Yan constantly asks Darling what their thoughts are on his new music, hoping to one day see their eyes light up and realize they were the center of all his music and finally return his feelings, but Darling only ever gives vague compliments to him, telling him his music is great but really never delves to deep into the lyrics or sound.

-Yan finally comes to terms, after watching over his Darling for months, maybe even years, the Darling just never gives his music an actual proper chance, and that's why they never pick up on all the lyrics that would eerily describe them to a T. Yan decides to be a bit more risky, and take his lovey dovey songs into more darker territory.

-Its an obvious switch. Going from themed albums that would have him in more colorful attire and poppy beats, to more darker fashion and seductive tones. Clearly the Cloud 9, cutesy romance didn't do the trick, so maybe he could lure his Darling in with a more mature persona.

-Lyrics become much more sexual in nature, singing of long nights underneath the covers, decorating each others skin in marks, all the things that gets the crowds riled up. He isn't afraid to drop hints/details about kinks he picked up that his Darling seemed to be interested in(well at least that's what Darlings search history says).

-His fame skyrockets after the new change, and he sees his Darling has started to pick up a bit of an interest in his music(fucking finally). They notice a little bit of how Yan seems to keep a certain image of someone within his lyrics. Mentions of the same hair color(and if Darlings one to dye their hair, will even mention the change in hair color in the song(s), same eye color, same attributes both physically and personality wise. But despite that, Darling still hadn't gotten deep enough into the music to put the puzzle pieces together. Though they did make a joke about how much they related to this mystery person from the small amount of details they picked up.

-Yan definitely had to bite his tongue and hold his hands behind his back to keep from exploding after hearing that. So damn close, his Darling is right fucking there, the density this Darling had was driving Yan up the wall, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't find a little excitement in it. At this point he done already turned it into a game.

-The music just gets darker from there, and while the crowds of unwavering loyal fans eat up each word like its their last meal, Darling is finally becoming suspicious. Not just from the odd lyrics Yan has been singing, but also behaviors being exhibited behind the curtains. Around the first change in sound, when Yan took his music down a darker route, Yan had begun being more pushy with spending more time with his Darling. Following them around like a lost puppy between photoshoots. Trying his damnest to get Darling to hang out with him outside of work. Throwing parties just in an attempt to get Darling out of their professional persona around him. Constantly buying them things, showing up out of no where to chat with them, it was overwhelming.

-It was only getting worse, especially since Yan was beginning to slip up and say things about Darling that he shouldn't know. Afterall, Darling never told him such things. Coupled that with the fact that his lyrics in his new album sing of kidnapping and basements and a whole bunch of stuff that aren't at all romantic anymore, Darling is getting wary. They can't seem to go anywhere without this nagging feeling they weren't alone and something was wrong. They even begin looking into changing to a different label or becoming an independent photographer just to get away from overwhelming nature of their Yan.

-And Yan picks up on it. He realizes he isn't winning them over like this anymore, and he's now down to his last resort. He's always been a tad sadistic, even in the beginning he had a bit of joy daydreaming about kidnapping Darling and having them caged in his awfully large mansion, only having Darling ever see and hear from him. He's spent many hours in bed imagining ways to condition and brainwash Darling into relying on him, maybe even getting them so reliant on Yan that he'd be able to have them follow him once again on tours just so they could always be together every waking moment of their lives.

-But to get to that point, he was going to have to start at step 1.

1. Throw a party. At this point they had become common, as this was something he used in the past to get Darling to come out and spend time with him. He'd use the same excuse he's used in the past. He wants his favorite photographer to come and take amazing photos of the party so he can put them on his Instagram for bragging rights.

2. Get them chilled out. Darling never drinks alcohol at these parties. They have an expensive camera they need to protect, and taking decent camera shots require a steady hand. So Yan will make his own concoction for Darling. Darling only said they won't drink alcohol, they never mentioned anything else...

3. Take them out of the crowd and into a more quiet... secluded area of the house. They were never big on parties, its so easy to get overwhelmed, and now they're drowzy and stumbling over themselves and their words. Can't even stand up let alone walk. They clearly need some rest. Luckily Yan has everything they need to keep them comfortable. Now that they've finally made it home they can rest easy on their new bed while Yan finishes up closing down the party for the night.

4. Now a new life can be started. One much more suited to Yans taste. A life his amazing music has sung tales of since the day Yan fell in love...

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere idol #yandere singer #yandere musician #original work #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #the ending is very abrupt I do not do endings well #I don't plan on doing this regularly

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blossomofhope · 10 days

Text

alright boys time to talk about my prosekai fantasy au.

this is all just assorted wordvomit but there's something of a plotline to this so hear me out. (thanks to @egret-orchids for helping me in places!)

i have no idea what i'm doing and i have exams in two weeks. this is how i choose to spend my time.

feel free to send in asks about this!

the plot's as follows:

the yoru empire (imperial soldiers) and the kingdom of azayakana (knights of white) are at war, allegedly over territory.

mafuyu's an imperial soldier and a very good one. kanade's the imperial princess, away to sort something out in senritsu, an island off the main coast.

though that's all a cover story. mafuyu's the real princess. kanade's taken her place. it's not like the people of senritsu have ever met mafuyu before, right?

toya serves as kanade's personal guard. lizards follow him everywhere, something rui's friend torpe really doesn't like. he's a man of many talents, though he doesn't talk much.

ichika's a senritsun commander, alongside honami, who's a general, and saki, who's a new recruit but very enthusiastic.

rui's the court sorcerer who only came with kanade in case she needed some sort of spellwork done. she didn't. he's a bit of a mystery on purpose - he'd rather keep people guessing than admit the truth, no matter what.

torpe is a friend of rui's. definitely foreign but nice enough. he's a great pianist and toya looks up to him a lot. and if the lizards weren't always around that'd be completely fine.

tsukasa tenma was a knight, the best of his generation, perhaps of all time. he and the other 'knights of white', as they were known, were famous for their strength, their wits and their bravery. there's something missing now, with such a star dead.

mizuki akiyama's a knight. they're a commander, and akito can suck it, he's never going to get that promotion. he's too reckless, you know? but with tsukasa dead maybe they should reconsider things. ena's in yoru. ena, who understands them more than most people because she was outcast too.

akito shinonome is a knight. a general, actually, but that doesn't mean that much when mizuki stole all the glory. they're a real pain. so was tsukasa, but akito's not the type to speak ill of the dead.

shiho was a knight. she's not, now, seeing as they technically deserted. tsukasa said he was going to. he wanted to find his sister and tell her all about his victories. they just wanted out of the army and out of the kingdom, and now she's headed for senritsu, or maybe yoru, with no idea where to restart.

minori, haruka and shizuku are all nobility. airi works for minori.

an's an informant for kaito, who heads the empire's spy network. so is 'vivid' (miku).

kohane lives with an in senritsu.

nene's a witch and a refugee fleeing azayakana. emu's a nobleman's youngest daughter pursuing the life of an adventurer. meiko runs the inn they're staying at!

ena's an old friend of mizuki's, an artist and witch. she's a bit of a recluse and spends most of her time painting. luka's the one who keeps an eye on her.

len's the newest knight of white. rin lives in azayakana and keeps their family's business running.

'her royal highness mafuyu asahina of the yoru empire'

corporal 'yuki yoisaki'

toya aoyagi, rui kamishiro, commander ichika hoshino and general honami mochizuki

saki tenma and 'torpe'

tsukasa tenma (deceased), mizuki akiyama and akito shinonome, the famed knights of white.

shiho hinomori (deserted) and kagamine len

minori hanasato, haruka kiritani, shizuku hinomori and airi momoi

an shiraishi and kohane azusawa

(kohane's sort of a mix of these two. she's got the horns from the first and the outfit from the second)

emu otori, nene kusanagi and meiko

kaito, 'vivid' and kagamine rin

ena shinonome and megurine luka

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voyeur-clairvoyant · 3 months

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hey there! I'm not sure whether this has been asked before or not, but I thought I might give it a try nonetheless.

what are the main differences between the TdM system and the RWS one, if there are any, in your opinion?

I'm looking forward to writing a blog about it, so I'm trying to gather as much information from as many people as possible. thanks beforehand!

Hi there! Thank you for asking and GOD I hope I'm late because I've been thinking non-stoping about this for the last days just to give you a complete answer. You have no idea how happy I'm to contribute with some firewood to the good ol' war between decks hashahsa.

For me, the biggest difference between both decks and schools of thought is that the RWS Tarot can BARELY be considered a tarot deck (and this is not necessarily a bad thing).

It's a "tarot" in the same way that Taco Bell's "tacos" are tacos. Technically they are and I can't say anything about it but when you compare them with authentic tacos you realize there are enormous issues in their construction, their ingredients, their history and the culture around them.

They are perfectly """edible""".

Now, I'm the first to admit it, Pamela and Arthur's deck changed not only cartomancy but the perception of the entire world around it. Pamela's exquisite artistry and innovative idea of illustrating the minor arcana made it BY FAR the most important tarot deck of all times. HONOR TO WHOM HONOR IS DUE. And as cartomants we owe respect to the deck (and its creators) for literally bringing cartomancy into modernity. It is directly responsible for the fact that we are discussing this topic today and for all the extraordinary artistic madness of hundreds and hundreds of new decks that are printed and designed.

HOWEVER. The deck has HUGE and unacceptable errors that split the modern study of tarot into two and a thousand pieces, but I have to give their case justice. Arthur Edward Waite and Pamela Colman Smith were members of the Golden Dawn and their plan was to create a tarot deck with the ritual, sacred and symbolic associations of the order.

Is it their fault that their niche deck escaped containment? Of course not. We are used to working with luck, it is our territory, so it's no surprise that the mass popularization of tarot (and this deck in particular) came with an equally destructive counterpart. I can't blame them, Geek culture (and fandom in general) has to live every day with the Horrors and Pleasures of seeing their niche content, intended for a few, be dismembered and multiplied in the hyper-globalized sphere of "normie" culture.

I'm in several tarot groups on Facebook and the question every day is: What is the best deck for beginners? And the truth is that I don't know what to answer.

I have read with both systems and right now, my little TdM is my tool par excellence. I admit that the "dry" art of the minor arcana and the deck in general is an acquired taste. There are such beautiful and impressive decks out there that I completely understand why not many decide to stick with the tarot world's equivalent of vanilla triple condom missionary sex (although this is an aesthetic issue that is being called into question with new decks).

What I don't understand is the conception that the Marseille tarot is more complicated than the RWS!

If the TdM school is characterized (or could be characterized, I curse you Jodorowsky!) by austerity and lack of expressiveness, the RWS school is characterized by paranoia and the pseudo-complexity of symbols and structures.

By "paranoia" I mean the obssesive search for hidden meanings or mystical secrets and messages. Usually where there are none.

Reading with an RWS deck for the first time is a horrible experience and we are very much to blame for scaring away beginner readers. Assuming that you have survived the countless myths that all decks carry (it must be a gift, it's satanic, don't read on Sunday) you realize that you don't know how to read it. Each of the 78 cards has a different scene and all of them are full of symbols. What do the pomegranates on the High Priestess' veil mean? What the fuck is a High Priestess? Why do some cards have names and others don't??? It is an aggressive sea of information that ends up drowning anyone.

But that is not all! Now comes the plot twist and it turns out that not only you have to learn 78 meanings (in equally confusing websites or books) but that each card has a different meaning in reverse. 156 cards in total, each with a series of extensive meanings for love, family, work, money, health, etc. And as if that weren't enough, the spreads look like this:

Where each of the positions has an extra layer of meaning. This is not a specific problem of the RWS but we have long since passed that point, we only have to manage the disaster that its globalization carried.

The big problem with RWS and its school of thought is that in the process of making a more intuitive tool, it became a creature that feeds on the paranoia of its readers. It is an excellent deck to spread on the table and read lightly: The faces and situation of the characters are clear, the art is friendly and reading is easy. A 10 of swords is an obvious image of failure and pain, the 3 of cups inspires joy and suggests party and friends. It is a tool that fuses the allegorical advantages of a classic tarot deck with the everyday fluidity of a sibyl or an oracle. It has nothing to envy an Italian Sibyl or a Kipper deck.

It is human, intuitive and beautiful.

The problem comes when we want to extract more of it. Being a ritual deck, it is impregnated from top to bottom with numerological, astrological, Hebrew, Egyptian, etc. associations of magic and occultism derived from the not very convincing knowledge of the GOLDEN DAWN. It was not intended to be a deck for common and mundane divination use.

The average casual cartomancer knows the meanings of the cards because they read them on a website (and hopefully in a book/video). Most people don't know who Pixie or Arthur Waite is and probably haven't read any of their original texts. What's worse, there's a good chance you're not a member of the Golden Dawn and you also don't know that previous decks exist. All those symbols and associations that served an original purpose become a mental burden when reading with it.

What good does it do me to know that the coins in the 10 of coins represent the Tree of Life or that the Magician transfers the energies of the High to the Low, alluding to one of the magical premises of the Tabula Smaragdina ("As above, so below") when what I want to know IS IF MY EX WOULD GET BACK TO ME???

A lot of information but useless information. And that's still the best case scenario. At worst…

The incomplete fusion of poorly understood mystical allusions, an intuitive deck loosely anchored in classical cartomancy and the whitewashed psychology of the New Age in search of alternative therapies gave birth to a monster: EVOLUTIONARY TAROT. (But that's another story. The evolutionary tarot isn't really bad in its conception, but the road to Hell is paved in good intentions ahhasha. I have already a post about it).

If the RWS school got rid of the complicated spreads, the reversed cards, the useless lists of meanings, the obsession with symbols and FOCUSED on Pixie's illustrations and read Arthur's original texts it would be easier to use its tool without losing their marbles in the process, but that is going against the current and not analyzing the existing reality.

By illustrating the minor arcana, the deck became more friendly but in exchange it lost the hierarchy of the major arcana. In the image there are 3 major and 3 minor arcana, but visually they have the same weight and therefore, the same relevance when this SHOULD NOT HAPPEN. The Sun cannot be on the same level as a 10 of Swords no matter how bloody the card is.

Another situation: Let's focus on the Wheel card. I already made a post about it that you can find on my blog, but in summary there is a HUGE difference between this arcane in the RWS and the TdM. Which is saying a lot when the TdM's Wheel is itself extremely defective.

If the RWS tarot does not respect the hierarchy of the arcana, many of them are "badly" represented, or at least incomplete without the contribution of Arthur and the Golden Dawn, it does not have a divinatory purpose and illustrates its minor arcana based on external sources such as Etteilla, numerology, astrology, etc… CAN WE CONTINUE CONSIDERING IT A TAROT?

I suspect not and this is not a bad thing. On the contrary, it has an extraordinary place as a multipurpose oracle that could be developed more freely without the pretension of wanting to be (without actually being) a tarot deck.

And yet, the Marseille tarot is the one that has the reputation of being MOST COMPLICATED!!!???

As I said before, honor to whom honor is due and therefore, dishonor to whom dishonor is deserved ahsahsa. Alejandro Jodorowsky did an enormous job to popularize the TdM deck but he missed a VERY SMALL detail like other important tarot figures such as Papus and Eliphas Levi:

The PARANOIA.

I love you friends, but if I hear someone say again that the Tarot of Marseille holds mystical secrets in its geometry, I'm gonna kill someone ahsahsa. ENOUGH, for mercy's sake! Many beginners infected with the mystical paranoia of the RWS come to the classic decks with the same perception of hermetic and conspiratorial symbology, which is fueled by the LITERAL search for easter eggs and hidden meanings popularized by the aforementioned characters. Sometimes two cups are TWO CUPS and 3 swords are THREE SWORDS. There are no secret codes involved but who seeks finds and sooner or later you will end up paying more attention to the leaves on the decorations or the color of the shoes than to the FUCKING CARD ITSELF.

This manifests, for example, in another of the major problems that both systems share:

CUPS ≠ WATER WANDS/BATONS ≠ FIRE COINS ≠ EARTH SWORDS ≠ AIR

REPEAT AFTER ME: SUITS ARE NOT ELEMENTS.

Many readers tend to automatically replace the objects in the cards with the later elemental associations. When we see 6 swords in a classic deck, we are not talking about air, MUCH LESS about the meaning that Etteilla or Arthur Waite gave to the card. 6 swords are more swords than you want your enemy to have and since they are swords and not AIR, their function is simply to cause you a lot of damage and pain. Bad omen.

THERE IS NO MYSTERY.

We can add another layer of information, helped by numerology and adjacent cards, but we must never lose sight of the SUPERIOR hierarchy of this obvious and clear message in favor of DETAILS such as the ornaments and the distribution of the swords on the card.

The biggest danger of the RWS system is being overloaded with useless information and ridiculously complicated systems. The biggest danger of the TdM system is not seeing the MESSAGE by focusing too much on absurd details.

The Marseille tarot has MANY flaws as it is a poor copy of Italian decks. Curiously, its situation is almost identical to that of the RWS. By reaching a globalized impression in Europe, the forgivable mistakes of a niche deck spread far and wide. Even so, it preserves the characteristic simplicity of classic decks: You can perfectly distinguish a major arcana from the rest and give it the place it deserves in a reading. The allegories have errors but they maintain a clear and understandable representation for the most part (I also have a post about it).

Many TdM readers do not use inverted cards and free reading on tableaus and strings are the favorite. If we ignore the symbolic paranoia of various authors, focus on the cards in front of us and their allegorical meanings, we have a VERY EASY TO READ tool. It is not as comfortable or friendly as a RWS but it is definitely more free and concrete. Less noise, less chaos. Straight to the point.

I'm not going to lie to you either, anyone who has used a TdM knows that no matter how skilled the reader is, the deck cannot be compared to a sibilla or the RWS when the topic is everyday and mundane divination. It is a dry, direct deck, but little theatrical or gossipy compared to other decks. In the same way, if we ask a sibyl complex and imaginative questions we will have the same result as if we asked the vegetable seller at the market.

Much of the debate comes down to knowing what your need is and your appropriate tool.

In conclusion:

I think the RWS system is unnecessarily complicated, which undermines its great advantage: Being able to read the deck intuitively without having to study it. I think that if it completely abandoned its desire to be a tarot and became an independent deck of illustrations, it would be an exquisite oracle.

The TdM is not the sharpest knife in the arsenal of classic decks, but it is a very easy tarot deck to learn and use if we ignore the symbolic paranoia and limiting meanings of some authors. It is (like all classic decks) a deck with the limitations of tarot, so instead of forcing it to answer all the questions, sometimes it is better to know when to use another oracle.

#divination #witchcraft #tarot #fortune telling #cartomancy #tarot cards #witchblr #tarotblr #baby witch

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starleska · 1 year

Note

I just saw on YouTube that MatPat has made a GTLive about Welcome Home.

I’m honestly conflicted. On the one hand, I am genuinely happy that a big YouTuber like MatPat has noticed Welcome Home, as I do love his theories on occasion.

But I’m also worried. After everything Clown has been through with the sudden rush of a massive following, and also me knowing how MatPat’s very large fan base can be VERY zealous, I’m genuinely worried for Clown. I know they’re going through a lot and are currently on a well deserved hiatus, but I do have the sudden thought that the prospect of MatPat’s fan base getting too zealous may end up doing harm in the long term for them. They have done that before on other things.

And that’s not even getting into MatPat potentially making a theory video about Welcome Home when the project hasn’t yet left the Prologue Stage of its story, which may end up again doing harm.

I wonder what your opinion on all of this may be. What do you think of MatPat covering this potentially as a theory and do you worry about his fan base becoming zealous for Welcome Home?

hello sweetheart! thank you so much for sending in this ask, and for putting your thoughts down in such a respectful manner - very well articulated 💖 i'm going to pop my response under a read more, as i feel it deserves a good chunk of text for a reply.

and if you're a new Welcome Home fan - welcome to the fandom! 🥰 here's a simple guide i wrote which explains what Welcome Home is, where the story is taking place, and how you can support the creator.

okay, here we go! ✨

first of all, i understand why you're concerned. this explosive growth has been tough for Clown - and having caught the edge of the tidal wave of attention just for Welcome Home fanworks, i don't blame them for being so stressed! no one could've predicted Welcome Home would blow up so much, although it is a testament to Clown's artistic talent and skill 🔥

here's the thing: fandom isn't something you can control. i feel that even though this concern comes from a good place, we may be sliding a little too close to gatekeeping territory, and that isn't fair. i totally get what you're saying about the overzealous part, but i don't believe there's anything inherent about being a fan of MatPat's content which would cause someone to behave in a disrespectful, boundary-overstepping manner. let's be clear: we are not inherently more deserving of enjoying Welcome Home just because we discovered it earlier, or any other trait that would separate the earlier fandom from a new influx of fans from MatPat.

again, i sympathise with your perspective. i was an old MatPat fan myself: a real creepypasta-obsessed teen who discovered all sorts of cool fandoms through him and other channels! but i don't think Welcome Home being covered by MatPat means there's a higher risk of harm, or that those fans in particular are more likely to exhibit inappropriate behaviour. i worry about fandoms which, when trying to make sure everyone is being respectful, end up creating an us vs. them mentality...and there's nothing i dislike more than fans who believe they're more entitled to enjoy media more for artificial reasons, like if they discovered it earlier, or know more about the property, or engage in fandom the 'correct' way (whatever that means) 😕

i think that just because Clown is (very understandably!) stressed and needs time to adjust, doesn't mean we should try and halt the popularity of Welcome Home - which would be both unfair and impossible. there's no criteria for whether or not someone can be a fan - all that is to be expected is that they are respectful and kind. we should continue as always: being respectful, and echoing Clown's wishes. i think we should welcome all these new fans and show them a great time! and if a fan does do something harmful, we shouldn't attack them; instead, we should let them know why that's not okay, and not assume everyone is out to do harm. ignorance isn't always out of malice, and many of us discussing this issue have the luxury of being older, and having had our younger years in fandom under much less scrutiny. perhaps there's this lingering anxiety due to the claims of fans doxxing/hacking, which Clown has since debunked as being odd fandom rumours.

ultimately, Clown put Welcome Home out into the world for other people to enjoy. MatPat is allowed to make theories on Welcome Home, and his fans are allowed to enjoy it too. this is the same as an unknown video game being covered by Markiplier, or a similar property being picked up by the nerdcore music community. yes, it's likely MatPat's fans may be on the younger side, and perhaps inexperienced with fandom etiquette or boundaries. however, this is a generalisation! i feel perhaps this anxiety with new fans coming in has something to do with our own overzealousness, and how in the early days we began making fanworks/interacting with Clown's content in ways which he's since stated he's not comfortable with 💖

at the end of the day: whether we're 13 or 55; whether we compile large documents full of information about the Welcome Home story or write gushing posts about how cute Wally Darling is; whether we've known Clown's work for years or are just discovering it today - we're all fans, and we all deserve to be here. being zealous is what fandom is all about! the best thing we can do is just keep on putting out positive energy, and encouraging all of that lovely, budding excitement. let's keep helping new fans learn about the amazing story of Welcome Home, and making them feel welcome too 🥰

#i hope this answers your question anon!! 💖#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home discussion #starleskatalks #starleskasks

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