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polarisdelphi · 4 months

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Back on posting old art I never posted, Frau Schneider, my beloved 🖤

I'm seriously considering turning her into a sticker and slapping it everywhere I need to remember something to do. Drinking water? Frau is there judging me. Writing? Frau is waiting. Sleeping at a decent time? She's at the clock, looking at me with hatred in her eyes.

Jokes aside, this was more of a try on stylized drawing, which I completely suck. Since I studied Schneider's face thoroughly once for another drawing, I figured stylizing him would be easier for me as a first try.

I love his nose HAHAHAHA that's my anchor on his likeness xD

Sketches, breakdowns on how I got here, what I thought on shapes and more on his features - and just general artist blabbering, down below!

It was born from these loose sketches:

And I do like the ~proper~ one too. Took a lot of screenshots of the video's making of to understand his mannerisms when ~in Frau~, and there's a big change between the video and the live versions.

Video is a proper, collected, older woman with a dark side from repressed unfulfilled desires, live one is a brute, angry, harshly dominant one. 100% angry all the time, taking her dogs for a walk 🖤

Keeping some harsh shapes on the first one 'cause we all know she's evil, and some more organic ones on the second one 'cause she's UNHINGED.

(Also, Frau's coat are a thousand little Edelweiss 'cause you know. Schneider, Austria, his wife hahahaha aaaaand I have roots from there too, so I decided to shamelessly slap Edelweiss everywhere xD)

Another interesting thing to note, was trying to keep the male proportions on a female presenting appearance. Because we all learn about better shapes for women, how they usually are ~smaller, softer and more delicate~ than males (please read with sarcasm) but Schneider is still a man in woman's clothing, acting like a woman. So I had to keep in mind what I'd draw if it was just him as himself - big hands, big feet, tall as a fucking tree, very large shoulders, toned arms and muscles, all that. No ~delicate~ features 'cause he's still a man, but in here he's a woman.

I'm not saying I succedeed. But it was a good first try :)

Given I have so many drag queen original characters, it's something I think it was nice to study and have in mind T-T

About his features, like I said, I studied him once 'cause I was trying to go for stylized Live aus Berlin Schneider illustration once, but all I got is: I can draw his likeness from memory now, that's it *cries in incompetence*

I said before, I'm not good at stylizing.

So, his key features are: very slim and small mouth, big nose (gods I love his nose, I'll always say that), kinda small eyes and there's almost no distance to his eyebrows (on the video they paint his brows to make a LOT more arched, almost like original Maleficent), longer face, big and square chin, sharp and high cheekbones. I figured if I kept all that in mind, I'd have his likeness.

That's what I used to go figuring out how to draw Frau like that :)

And why am I blabbering all this?

I just hope it helps other self-taught artists out there who have a hard time finding resources and see other people's drawings and go "oooh man how do I get there?" and the artist always go "I dunno just draw a lot and you will get there :)"

Yes, yes, draw a lot. If you don't practice, you won't learn. But there ARE tools, observation studies, drawing studies and a WHOLE lot of things you can learn from other people to get where you want to faster and easier - but most of these resources are, nowadays, behind a paywall. So I just figured I'll share what I learned and hopefully it'll help someone struggling with the same things I did less than a year ago ;)

#schneider #christoph schneider #art #stylized art #illustration #character art #I'm just having nonsensical fun at this point hahaha #I do pity enourmously my mentor #getting all these crazy unhinged people drawings to analyze #but hey I don't make the rules #frau schneider lives rent free in my head #and schneider too for that matter 'cause he's the reason why I remembered I can't live without music #rammstein #frau schneider

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thewriterwhowritesnot · 8 months

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Alucard Music Headcannons - Mitski

A/N: Trying to get back into my being in love with Alucard Groove, folks. Don't mind me ;).

I am a firm believer that Alucard would be a slut for Mitski's music. Here's a list of songs I feel he'd love and why:

Francis Forever - I feel like this song would speak to him in so many different ways. It reminds him of how young he feels in life and love no matter how old he gets. His feelings of loneliness and isolation from the living and the dead.

Crack Baby - It's the slow progression of the song. To him, it feels like descending into the thoughts he often does his best to ignore in his daily life. The thoughts of how unfulfilled he feels sometimes. The constant longing for more, for something that he can't always possess. He often doesn't know what he wants but he knows that he had it once and he knows that he wants it back.

I Bet On Losing Dogs - This song reminds him of how he feels as if he's in a hopeless cycle of giving his energy to things that will inevitably fall apart by his hand or the hands of another. He's tired and exhausted with pain, being wrong, and being let down but, he can never get himself to stop trying or to stop seeking. It's bittersweet but he keeps drinking from the cup because, without his humanity and his desire for love, he'll have no reason to continue on.

Once More To See You - This song reminds him of where he's been and who he's known and who he's loved. The secrecy of new love and the sweetness of intimacy. It reminds him of innocence in love and the desire for closeness.

Your Best American Girl - It's the REGRET, my dudes. The suffocating feeling of knowing there are so many ways he feels robbed by life and by the greed and pride of others and the mistakes he's made. This song encapsulates his feelings of wishing things were different and how maybe in love he wishes he could come with less baggage.

Pink In The Night - Let's be real...Alucard is a very intense man and when he falls for someone he falls HARD. So hard that they infiltrate all parts of his mind. This song expresses the feelings he gets when he loves someone and how it resonates in his bones. Overcome with emotion and the drug of love.

Washing Machine Heart - Reminds him of how often he's felt like the odd one out and how in his experience it was rare that he felt chosen in love. Meaning, he's so multifaceted and in relationships, there have been imbalances that have led him to feel unwanted or simply misunderstood and rejected in that. He's a soft-hearted strong individual and this affects him deeply

Two Slow Dancers - This definitely speaks to him in regard to his feelings about time and how it passes. He's immortal and the knowledge of that weighs on him in happy times (and sad ones) because of the knowing that there are many he will have to say goodbye to as he goes on. Many memories will remain longer than the people who were a part of them. This song represents his grief, his love, and his hatred of time and memory.

#castlevania #adrian tepes #alucard #alucard tepes #castlevania headcanons #alucard sfw headcannons #alucard headcannons #castlevania fanfictiom #castlevania fanfic #music headcannons #gem speaks

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flashflames · 3 months

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𝖆 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖘 … have a drink at my table , allow me to tell you stories — stories of dragons and burnt men . tell me about lady zhao keran .

( zhou ye , female , she/her ) : ̗̀➛ twentyfour years young , a firebender from the noble house of zhao . many know them to be rakish & untempered . how unfortunate , truly … i’ve always found them to be lively & open-minded . they oft fulfill the duties of a sergeant in the fire nation army . oh , i should tell you — they oppose the rule of house yi . well , you know how every storyteller bends the tale they tell .

ruvi here and bringing you a hot girl, quite literally! she's loyal only to their family and the soldiers she's sworn to protect, though she's taken a detour along the way that's shaken things up. like the post to plot and i'll send a message here or send you my disc ♡

youngest of house zhao, she's a sponge for the best and worst parts of her family. fully entrenched in the military mindset, the only thing that matters to her is strength—everyone's equal in a fight, and the strongest person is always right. and she's strong, too, trained from young to reach the rank of captain in the fire nation army by nineteen.

but she has a moment of rebellion at twenty, a moment's impulse when she ditches her section and sneaks away from the capital. her forethought only goes as far as her fists, and she'd been curious about life on the other side. her siblings, being the ones who run the military, cover up her absence for as long as they can while on the hunt for her, eventually finding her moonlighting as a barkeep under a new name.

keran gets freedom for a year or so, working at a tavern with no expectations or lives to be in charge of. it pokes holes in her life philosophy, seeing the way might can be misused—and sometimes, just outright wrong. at least she's always strong enough to right it, but she learns to value strengths that aren't just useful for a fight. though she still thinks a fist is the strongest of them all.

but a leash comes back for her, dragging her from the urban centre back to hari bulkan. she's demoted down to sergeant, and has been stuck there for a couple of years more. she's getting antsy about it, along with her realisation that a leash is still a leash, no matter how many military medals you put on it.

she thinks house yi might not deserve the throne, having seen what happens in the urban centre, and resenting the tight leash that bites into her neck. she wants them taken down, but hasn't gotten far enough to think about who should be put in charge after.

there's a biased sense of equality to her—she's open to everyone, as long as they can beat her in a fight. she's reckless and fun loving, but can be quite dogged once she's got her teeth into something. doesn't have a head for politics, off-puttingly honest, and isn't playing the long game—most members of house zhao die young, so she might as well make the most of what she's got.

wanted connections

sparring partner, someone she pulls no punches with and seeks out when she's itching for a fight, often

a dream she owes, she met them while moonlighting as a barkeep and left a promise unfulfilled

childhood enmity. they've never gotten along, but now they've got a common goal (against the royal house) that's changing things up

childhood betrothed no longer, their engagement was called off after her stint of missingness/demotion, possibly by their parents or it was their decision

an anchor/foil that grounds her, who provides a differing opinion that tempers her impulses

complicated familial relationships! a sibling with clashing egos and desires for the future of their house. a sibling she's a little shadow of

a moth to her flame, inexplicably drawn to her despite a myriad of misgivings

#rs.intros

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fruityyamenrunner · 8 months

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In 1928, I treated a man who suffered from masochistic perversion. His lamentations and his demands to be beaten blocked any progress. After some months of conventional psychoanalytic work my patience wore thin. One day, when he asked me again to beat him, I asked him what he would say if I actually did. He beamed with happy anticipation. I took a ruler and gave him two hard slaps on the buttocks. He yelled aloud; there was no sign of pleasure whatsoever, and from that time on such demands were never repeated.’ This, says Reich, convinced him that it is untrue that masochists derive pleasure from being beaten. And then came a ‘truly fantastic idea’: that ‘the masochist wishes to burst and imagines that torture will bring this about’. That is to say, the masochist is full of desires that he dare not express, and they have the effect of making him—figuratively speaking—blow up like a balloon. But in the case of human beings, the balloon cannot burst, because the person has developed a kind of ‘armour’ to hold it in, like a child struggling to hold back his tears. So an intolerable tension is created, an inner pressure that cannot find release. Being beaten, says Reich, is an attempt to find such release, a desire to be struck until the balloon bursts. The alternative would be to find—with the help of Reichian therapy—an ‘orgastic discharge’. But what is it that is discharged in such a moment? Not just semen, for an orgasm without pleasure does not reduce tension. It must be some form of biological energy—the energy Reich was seeking to measure with his electrical machines.

This reasoning sounds convincing until it is examined more closely. To begin with, can we really accept that neurosis is due to the clash between biological and social demands (fame, ambition, etc.)? It is easy to see that many young men would enjoy making love to every pretty girl they meet, and that social taboos make this impossible. But is it really society that is to blame? Surely, the girls themselves would have some objection? And their objection is just as ‘biological’ as the young men’s desires. Neurosis can be caused by the conflict between social and sexual desires; but it is not always so. A few years later, Abraham Maslow produced a more balanced theory in the concept of the ‘hierarchy of needs’—that the most basic need of all living creatures is for food and security; after that, sex (and love); after that, success and fame (self-esteem). A man could be satisfied on the sexual level, and still become neurotic out of unfulfilled self-esteem.

Reich’s theory of masochism is open to a more basic criticism. He seems to prefer to ignore the sexual component. Magnus Hirschfeld has a chapter on masochism that makes it clear that in the majority of cases, masochism is sexual in nature. A schoolboy enjoys being beaten because the mistress—an attractive young woman—removes his trousers before bending him over her knee; she often allows her other hand to stray to his genitals as she spanks him. A young man enjoys lying on the floor, while his pretty cousin stands on him in high-heeled shoes, allowing him to look up her dress to her underwear; as a climax of the ‘game’, she presses her foot on his penis, and he has an orgasm. A girl has a fantasy in which she is bound and naked on a butcher’s slab; the butcher prods her all over, as if trying to decide on the best cuts, then inserts a finger in her vagina—which causes an orgasm. In none of these cases can we see any evidence of Reich’s ‘desire to burst’. There is simply an association of pain with sexual pleasure, so that pain ends by evoking sexual pleasure, as the ringing of a bell caused Pavlov’s dogs to salivate when it became associated with food. And because Reich wilfully ignores this psychological component, he fails to see why his patient did not enjoy being struck with a ruler. For the masochist, the person who is beating him is an object of sexual desire, the real cause of the excitement. A grim-faced psychiatrist wielding a ruler bursts the soap-bubble of illusion. The actress Florence Farr used to practise the same technique on love-sick swains; she would lean forward, grab them by the head and make them kiss her and then say: ‘Now let’s have a reasonable conversation.’ The treatment was intended to extinguish romantic desire, and seems to have succeeded.

this reminds me a little of the sexless way some people talk about, and i presume actually perform fantasies about, "kink", a sort of dramatic magickal performance of a release of Reichian cum-energy, with no pretentions or even presence of simple sexual desire.

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kunthug · 1 year

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september, october, in you i officially* bid sorrow bye

SADNESS

i been working thru a personal essay on my black boi joy that’s important to write for this era i've pressed both feet strongly into.

because of how deep in my blood and bones sorrow stirred and roiled & seeped frm,

emo🖤 for many reasons, rightly, but it’s important to write

just 4 how

the grace of a transition is a wondrous dawning so beautiful and so special. i mean i dwelt with such a sadness that feels impossible for words to remember & hold. & suddenly my life changed since i encountered some spirits, or more so just acknowledged them cause dey been there all along. within me, my own physical & spiritual exhaustion with being a saddo coupled with a heated desire to shift things. together all these blew open this process of transformation, ultra.

& i, too, wanted to taste more and more joy

surpassing my dogged capacity for sadness. and if it didn’t do it for me, my body, seeing me through so much heavy shits, deserved it.(deserves it.)

(something about this photo makes me think of inherited sadness. how can that not be true? i look at my lips and see my mother’s lips.)

sometimes, under the covers, it is easy to think well maybe the sadness can be mine

— in some way that an era of black boi joy doesn’t mean sadness is rid of forever — this sadness is mine forever,

the sadness being integral to who i am;

diligent companion, like rage, i've learnt what it's useful for —

but, again, i want to know so much of something else, and live so much for something else — my body, my ancestors, my kin, what the world itself offers

and maybe, maybe, i will eventually follow.

this ferocious bubbling to the surface to breathe other things finds holy familiarity with asake's mr money with the vibe album (a mirror in many ways) and the actual vibe surrounding asake's artistry. (in black boi joy, i hope to stretch this out more and draw the links.) essentially, there is something about asake's music that reminds me of what my body is capable of. it reaches my bones, striking deep the same place sadness lives, in a way no other feeling has ever been able to. not even love .x_x.

joy joy joy in my bones

it’s been even more profound opening my head to the spirits i work with now to build my poem of my life that's filled with so much pain,*rme* yes, but much more beauty, joy, humour, levity, eros.

expansive lushing, big purrring that is already my capacity and then steering that to light light light lighter things.

more more more

my body is so open. open so much that i would not be terrified of overflowing joy. i will enter into it, i will lose myself, burst, gather myself, burst again, layer myself, frost myself, adorn myself in it.

i will hold it fully. i will say this too is mine. this too is my birthright.

WANT

the way i want is a terror. a big bottomless void i wonder wtf whoever stuffed my spirit in this flesh was thinking. if i did, then fuck, really boo?[1] this world, this fickle ruining existence? what gets me the most is when i lay it all down, what i want, and see just how simple and uncomplicated these wants are, i get even more terrifyingly upset first for (the unfufillment) (and how much the world has steered far from being a place that could fulfill simple pleasures).

there are days i wake up wanting to protect myself from my desires (because not much reminds us how much suffering is brought on the body dwelling in unfulfilled want)

and some days i wake up hungrier.

give me more—

“ I’ve wanted people who made fun of my want, called me thirsty to my face because I was supposed to be more modest, let them be the ones who fed on me. But I’m starving, this world never seems to give me enough of anything. I want to squeeze existence until it runs a bloody pulp down my arms, wet and yielding. Give me everything.”

Dear Senthuran, Akwaeke Emezi.

it's very correct to be afraid that there’s something wrong in continuing to give this to myself, because the world and the people in it were made for each other— because self-love only does so little and is in excess exasperating. but when i am not tired, i can’t stop.

attention, devotion, joy, levity, humour,

& more cunt & more shimmer & more pwussy

i hope in the coming wave to pour so much of my desires into myself. asé*

_____________________

[1] always going back and forth on whether on not i chose this life. in this moment i think i did.

#prelude to black boi joy #and era #september spirals #october spirals #want #sorrow #sadnesss #& more joy

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morningrainmusic · 1 month

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Peak Indie Rock: 2008

Vampire Weekend by Vampire Weekend January 29, 2008 / XL “One difficulty for me, in particular, was—I thought it was so fun and funny to have this concept of a preppy band. One rule that we set early on was ‘No t-shirts.’ Because I just looked and around and everybody was wearing t-shirts all the time….we should just wear button-down shirts. Which of course has a long history, but at the time it felt pretty novel, and especially when there were all these great New York bands like The Strokes and Interpol that just wore t-shirts and leather jackets.” -Ezra Koenig on BBC, 2024

The hate for Vampire Weekend when they arrived on the scene was very real. The crux of it centered around the band being comprised of WASP-y Ivy League grads appropriating African music, which garnered them undeserved indie fame. A lot of it also stemmed from their preppy atire. All this quickly became, like the mythologized Bon Iver For Emma backstory, largely inextricable from the group. The term “cultural imperialists” got thrown around. The Village Voice ran two reviews of their debut, one positive, titled “Please Ignore the Embroidered Dog Sweater” and the other negative titled “Please Ignore This Band.” Clearly though, the music was connecting, as the album sold half a million copies and was a critical favorite of 2008. Vampire Weekend was even the first band to be shot for a Spin cover before releasing an album. If it’s true that any press is good press, then Vampire Weekend was the most successful band of 2008. The music itself, of course, is pretty irresistible. Very few bands release debut albums this cohesive, with a distinct, seemingly fully formed sound and aesthetic. The early aughts gave us plenty of gritty, unpolished, straightforward rock groups, many of them also from New York. But man cannot live by bread alone, and Vampire Weekend brought something fresh and exciting to the culture—smart, elegant, and addictive new wave and Afro-pop influenced tunes. Songs like “Oxford Comma,” “The Kids Don’t Stand a Chance,” and “A-Punk” are nothing short of stone-cold indie classics that still stand as some of the best in their exceptional catalogue. Nation of Heat by Joe Pug February 14, 2008 / Self-released I’m admittedly breaking my own rules here, as Nation of Heat is an EP, not a full album, and probably does not fit the label of “indie rock.” And it’s difficult to pinpoint when this was released. According to Bandcamp it came out in 2008. Wikipedia says 2009. One thing there’s not doubt of is that Joe Pug was about as independent as any artist can be in his approach to recording and distributing Nation of Heat. The project started as a play Pug had been writing as theater major at the University of North Carolina. When he realized he didn’t see much value in the education he was receiving, he dropped out, headed to Chicago, and took a crack at applying the unfinished play's themes to songs instead of stage. Nation of Heat paints a kaleidoscopic picture of America in all its crooked glory. There is clearly strong emotion behind each of these songs; Pug wrestles with his purpose as an artist, the unfulfilled promises of the 1960s’ political and cultural movements, and general disillusionment with so many facets of American society. These weighty topics set to guitar and harmonica, explored in opaquely poetic language naturally call to mind Woody Guthrie and especially early Bob Dylan. Most Dylan acolytes (and there have been oh so many) are just cheap imitators—guys with little in the way of songwriting ability and not much more in terms of actual substance. Joe Pug is one of the rare exceptions. Nation of Heat, sixteen odd years later, is a salient reminder that the personal is political, the country is lost, and it’s on each of us individually to never stop searching. Midnight Boom by The Kills March 10, 2008 / Domino

The Kills’ excellent third album is an underrated career highlight that stands up with some of the best work by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and, I’ll say it, The White Stripes. These songs are full of slick electro-rock riffs and just-menacing-enough-to-be-cool-as-hell attitude. Highlights include “Tape Song,” “Last Day of Magic,” and “Night Train.”

Narrow Stairs by Death Cab for Cutie May 12, 2008 / Atlantic Gradually over the past few years people all across this great land of ours have been coming to a simple but important realization: that the second best Death Cab album is Narrow Stairs. No, it is not Plans (2005), the exhale to Transatlanticism’s pining inhale. It is not We Have The Facts and We’re Voting Yes, a common pick from early fans. It’s not The Photo Album, a crucial level-up album, and the one with an all-time great song that got the band its first sync (and namedrop) in The O.C. No, it is Narrow Stairs, the sixth album by Death Cab for Cutie, which Ben Gibbard has described as “a really fearless record.” He’s also said, “So much of the negativity in my life got funneled into [Narrow Stairs]. I realized after that I didn't want to go any darker. I wanted it to be the bottom for this band and my own emotional spectrum in terms of writing. He’s also described funneling much of his life’s negativity.” Could Zoey Deschanel have had anything to do with all this doom and gloom? It’s a natural question to arrive at, and one I cannot answer. In any case, this one has been dogged by the “dark album” label since it was released, and it seems to have been generally considered “good, not great” for a long while. But time has been favorable to Narrow Stairs. There are of course the songs we all knew were terrific back in 2008. “Bixby Canyon Bridge” remains the hardest ripping Death Cab song and is a contender for the band’s best opening track. “I Will Possess Your Heart” with its jammy bass part and stalker dude vibes is their “Creep.” “Grapevine Fires” is still a painterly reflection on mortality, their “Dust in the Wind.” And then there are songs like “Cath…” that we overlooked. It’s a beautiful and heart-wrenching tale of a miserable bride and all her regrets, ending with an expression of understanding and empathy from Gibbard’s narrator. Or how about “You Can Do Better Than Me” and its plainly stated admission of complacency and inadequacy. To top it all off, “The Ice Is Getting Thinner,” (why not?) a metaphor about a dwindling relationship as climate change. Oh I forgot to mention “Pity and Fear.” That one is about fear and…checks notes…pity. This track is also their “Sopranos finale.” So yes, Narrow Stairs is quite dark. And it’s exceptionally good. Second only to Transatlanticism, and that’s saying a lot. Fleet Foxes by Fleet Foxes June 3, 2008 / Sub Pop

Ah, the great Pacific Northwest. Could Fleet Foxes and this transportive powerhouse of a debut come from anywhere else? I don’t want to get hyperbolic here, but I’d say Fleet Foxes in 2008 did for communing with nature what Nevermind in 1991 for anti-authoritarianism. Primary songwriter Robin Pecknold Pecknold wrote most of the songs in a rural log cabin built by his grandfather in the small town of Plain, Washington. Indeed, the whole record sounds like it came out of some remote mountain town, or was composed in a cliffside European monastery by sixteenth century monks. Its outrageously beautiful harmonies and evocative pastoral imagery make it on of the most exciting debut records of the 2000s. The ’59 Sound by The Gaslight Anthem August 19, 2008 / SideOneDummy A fun (highly dependent on your idea of “fun”) drinking game would be to put on The ’59 Sound and drink every time Brian Fallon makes some classic rock reference. You’d be underway about two minutes into the album on “Great Expectations” when he sings “It's funny how the night moves / Humming a song from 1962.” Then again, some may interpret the first word of the first line “Mary, this station is playing every sad song” as an allusion to the Mary of so many Bruce Springsteen songs. It’s not only impossible to write about The Gasinght Anthem without mentioning The Boss, I believe it’s punishable by death. There’s no Gaslight Anthem without Bruce, but that’s not to say this record is all pastiche. It is a genuinely remarkable heartland punk classic that rightfully earned Fallon the respect of his idol and made his dreams come true. To put it more directly, The ’59 Sound is a no-skips classic that fucking rips. Further reading: The Ringer’s Oral History of The ’59 Sound Dear Science by TV on the Radio September 16, 2008 / 4AD For several summers when I was in high school and college I worked as a lifeguard at a country club. I would sometimes get to control the music that played at the front desk and through the pool deck speaker system. It was typically played at a low volume, meant to be largely ignored, as most background music typically is. Club members never mentioned the music, all of it family friendly and unoffensive, except for two or three separate occasions when various middle-aged suburban dads came to the desk to ask me the name of the song playing. Each time, the song in question was “Love Dog,” the eighth track off TV on the Radio’s Dear Science. What does this mean? Nothing, probably. It’s just a beautiful song that, in a pre-Shazam age, happened to be the one that stood out from the pack, eliciting the urge to ask the gangly teenager folding towels what it’s called. Or perhaps it speaks to something deeper. Something darker. Something at the heart of latent loneliness, middle-aged malaise, and suburban sorrow. We’ll never know.

Furr by Blitzentrapper September 23, 2008 / Sub Pop Here’s another pretty unfairly overlooked album from 2008. Nothing crazy here, just really well written folk-country tunes with a woodsy, lived-in sound. The title track is the second best lycanthropic song of the decade (#1 is “Wolf Like Me”…#3 is “She Wolf”). Robin Pecknold had nice things to say about Furr’s closing track “Lady on the Water.” Starfucker by Strfkr September 23, 2008 / Baldman Back then they were known as Starfucker, a group of Portland-based dance rock-loving weirdos with a penchant for including samples of Alan Watts’ philosophical ramblings in songs. In the years since, they’ve dropped the vowels and now sit on a discography of seven pretty terrific electro-pop records. They also put out an ambient album in 2020 that’s not too shabby. Starfucker is their first LP though, and an audaciously odd but thoroughly chill entry into the aughts synth-pop canon. You may have heard in “Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second” in a Target commercial, but don’t miss standouts “German Love” and “Isabella of Castile.”

#2008 #listicle #indie rock #albums #lists

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auchinarkadien · 4 months

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Void Definitions

Aromanticism. Commonly defined by a lack, a lack of romantic attraction. But what does that mean, and why would its absence be "lacking"?

What do I lack? Romance? I have plenty of that. Company? I'm not lonely. Love? I fall in love all the time; with nature, art, music, every dog I see, language, poetry, even the odd person...

I don't want to fuck them, live with them, and call them my partner.

I don't see the appeal. Never have. Sometimes, I have my doubts that even the people who do really enjoy it. They don't always look like it. To many, it seems a means to an end. What end, I wonder.

Fulfil a need? Scratch an itch?

I reserve the right to question if lowercase R romance is the way. If it is, why do many people in these relationships seem so singularly unfulfilled?

Like they're looking for something in the wrong place, but it never occurred to them to look elsewhere.

If I have similar itches, I prefer to scratch them differently.

And, in a way, it's fitting that there's no clear definition. Defying definition is part of the deal, a challenge to the idea of romance, its nature and function.

Love is not love is not love. My love might not be your love might not be our love, never mind their love.

My love is fleeting; casual, quiet, volatile, pure. And if I'm loveless, if I'm cold, I embrace the negative space and make it my home.

I like my nothing. You're welcome here.

#scratch scratch

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firstumcschenectady · 10 months

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“Responding to Pleas” based on 1 Samuel 1:1-6, 9-18 and Matthew 15:21-28

What do you want most in life? Or perhaps, what have you wanted most? For many, I know the answer is that of the Canaanite woman in the Gospel lesson: healing for a loved one. For some the answer is that of Hannah: fulfillment of a lifetime desire. There are more answers of course, but those two cover a lot of ground.

They cover a lot of humanity too – the utter horror that we can feel when we face the pending death of a loved one, the discontent that can come when we are unfulfilled, and even the ways that society tells us who we should be and the pressures that puts on us to want particular things.

There are some challenges in these texts. The first one, I think, is primarily for people who believe that Jesus was perfect. Because in the Gospel story, he definitely isn't. He's human and quite fallible. Now, if this is an impediment to you being able to hear the story, it is always possible to tell yourself that Jesus was “acting like a human to make a point.” Because a point gets made here. Jesus, honestly, dismisses the human value of another person because her ethnicity is different from his.

Worse, it is rather consistent in the book of Matthew with how Jesus talks about Gentiles. They are OTHER. Gentiles are non-Jews, and they're not people of faith, and they're less important. They are THEY, the “not us.”

Which definitely seems like the energy Jesus brings into the conversation. Now, he's tired. Let's admit it. He had left the Galilee to get a break from all the demands being made on him. He is on retreat, or something like it, taking a break. He is trying to fill himself up so he can go back to giving away what he has.

And while he's on retreat, yet another person has heard of him, and yet another person asks things of him, and he is DONE and he draws a boundary and says “she is not my problem. I was sent to the Jews, she isn't a Jew, I'm on a retreat, let's ignore it.” (I kinda get it. This far at least. You can't fix the whole world – and maybe not even if you are Jesus, or at least the Jesus who lived in a human body which is inherently finite.)

But still she approaches him, and asks him directly, “Help me!” And then Jesus says the awful thing. The thing inconsistent with what we teach about Jesus in Sunday School, and even most of the time at church. He says, “ “It is not appropriate to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” And from what I've read, calling a woman a dog back then was about as unkind as you might think it would be today.

But, I've got to give it to this unnamed Canaanite woman. Because she wants her daughter healed, and she won't back down. She is willing, even to take the insult, if that's what it takes. She is already kneeling before him, pleading, and having her humanity attacked isn't going to stop her now.

She sticks with his metaphor and says, “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table.”

She blows him away. I don't know what it was like for him in that moment. Did he finally see her? Was he convinced by her argument? Was she like the persistent widow and he realized he better just give her what she asked? Was he impressed with her rhetorical brilliance?

The Gospels don't tell stories of Jesus getting bested by the priests or the scholars or the empire. But they do tell stories of Jesus getting bested by women. This is one of them.

And not only does the story say that he healed her daughter, from that point forward Jesus started talking differently about Gentiles. At the end of Matthew we hear, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.” The ministry of Jesus expanded in this story, and suddenly he wasn't called only to the Jews, but to all of the people.

One might call this Jesus' conversion story, if one wanted to.

Or, one might take this as a VERY GOOD example of what to do when one is called out for an unconscious bias – and how to let the wisdom of another person transform you into a better person.

And, one might see in this story the utter desperation of a parent with a sick child. That woman would have done ANYTHING for her daughter.

So would many of you. So have many of you. And so many of you, also, would have done anything that could have been done IF ONLY something could have been done.

For me, the part of this story that feels most universal is the desperation of the mother, of the person whose loved one needed healing. The one who couldn't heal their loved one themselves, but would do anything to get someone else who could heal to heal.

That is one of the hardest parts of life, for those who experience it. Which over time is most of us. That desperation is part of being human. It is part of loving.

(I'm going to just mention this and move on, but the needs for universal access to great health care AND adequate support and care for medical providers are implicated in this passage too.)

I struggle a little more with Hannah's request. Now, as a whole, I love Hannah. She speaks amazing words about God. But I worry that Hannah wanted to be the mother of a son because the culture around her told her that her entire value in the world was being a mother of a son, and she was trying to gain status with this request. That is, of course, unfair. Right? Because when society tells you that your value is based on something, humans tend to want that thing. I know that. But I want Hannah to just know she's OK without the thing. I want her to know she's enough as she is. I want her to throw away the expectations and just be awesome as she.

I'm tough.

(I'm tough on myself too, not just on Biblical characters.)

And maybe Hannah wants to parent because she wants to parent, but she kinda makes a deal with God here that if she gets to parent a son she will give him to be raised in the Temple and not actually get to be with him all that much. Which gets me back to thinking she wants status. But, OF COURSE SHE DOES. What other recourse does she have??

OK, so now I'm back to being compassionate for a woman who thought she had one job and wanted to do it and be recognized for being capable of doing her ONE job.

Great.

But once I start bringing in compassion, then I start seeing Penninah too. Because Penninah has the things she's supposed to have. She is a mother, including being a mother of sons. Yet she knows herself to be unloved. She is said to “provoke” Hannah, and yet it seems perhaps she felt provoked as well. She had what society said mattered, but she she didn't have fulfillment in it.

Well, she's not the first or last one, huh?

A final complication exists for us in these stories of women pleading for what they want most. They have their pleas answered, in the positive. Hannah becomes a mother, the Canaanite woman's daughter is healed. These stories tell of infertility being erased, and healing happening. Which means these stories can be painful for those for whom infertility remains or healing isn't found.

Because we know in life that sometimes the thing we want most, sometimes the thing we need most, sometimes the thing we are willing to get onto our knees and beg and plead for …

we still don't get.

Sometimes we plea and pray incessantly for something, and it doesn't happen.

Sometimes our worst fears come pass.

And if not for us, then definitely for others, and we see suffering of God's beloveds far too often for our souls to be at rest.

This is a known problem in theology – we have a God we say is good, and terrible things happen. And likely you have heard various “answers” to the problem from well meaning people of faith. Things like, “God always answers prayer, sometimes the answer is no.” or “Who are we to know what is good, only God knows” or (getting worse here) “maybe you didn't pray hard enough” or (OYE) “maybe God is punishing you.”

I don't have an “answer.” I don't believe in God as a punisher, or in having to prove oneself in prayer, or that we are unable to identify bad things in the world. Indeed, I know that bad, sometimes horrible things happen. And they break my heart over and over again. And I believe they break God's heart too.

And yet I believe that God is with us, all of us, and God is working toward good, all the time, and even the worst things in the world can be healed by God's love. I believe bad things happen, but I don't believe they're the whole story. I guess I'm back to the whole Easter thing, once again. I believe God, who is Love, has the last word. I believe love wins in the end, even if it may take a while. Even if I will never see it. Even if I can't see the way from here to there. I believe God is with us, and somehow, someway, that's enough. Thanks be to God. Amen

Rev. Sara E. Baron First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 Pronouns: she/her/hers http://fumcschenectady.org/ https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

June 18, 2023

#thinking church #progressive christianity #fumc schenectady #schenectady #umc #sorry about the umc #rev sara e baron #first umc schenectady #God is with us #Hannah #Canaanite Woman #Fallible

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lisacatara-actress · 1 year

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Almost Lisa: Pt 8, “Laughable... Almost”

*I retain all rights to my photography and story, story details, biographical information, fashion designs, art work, and anything and everything I have posted which is my own creation*)

You're still thinking about it, aren't you? Why I haven't dated an 18 years. It does sound pretty incredulous, bereft of the story behind it. No, I’m not crazy or have unrealistic expectations. Well, I do NOW. And life is just too damn short for bad company, bad sex, bad coffee, or fake relationships . The funniest ignorant comments men make to me are that they're surprised “nobody scooped (me) up yet”. As if I would relinquish that decision or fall into the arms of any man who wanted me. As if I OWE that to someone because simply having standards isn't enough for me to remain single. I want and deserve to be attracted and inspired, too. And honestly, I seldom meet someone who excites me in the ways I find attractive (intellectually, spiritually, and yes, physically).

Fathers / Daddies,

Hug your baby girls. As often as you can. If they don't learn what non-sexual touch is from you, they will have nothing to compare it by moving forward. Sex will feel like respect and appreciation when it's not.

Sincerely, A woman who learned this the hard way.

Once I moved to LA, I apparently developed attractions (and tolerances) to grown-ass man-children. My ex (yes, 18 years ago) had terrible mommy and daddy issues, was a pathological liar, and had at least three personalities (that I counted). He was also a kleptomaniac and stole a substantial amount of money from me (and a couple of his friends), just after cheating on me. Total package, obviously, lol. After that experience- which culminated in about a year of my life spinning out of control, dropping down to 105 lb because I just couldn't believe I didn't see signs of his illnesses- I eventually took a few lovers. But always unfulfilled and with unwarranted drama. One such arrangement lasted nearly seven years, on and very “off”. He was another (older) grown-ass man-child with serious Daddy issues. But wait! There’s more... He was also a narcissist, an over-compensatory control freak, and a very angry human who threatened to commit suicide every few months right about the time he knew I was going to leave him. But dang, if he didn't get the soft part of me that wanted to help him heal from his own trauma. Some people can't. So why did I stay?

Sex. Literally, that's the reason. I was completely focused on my career and wasn't in a position to have a more committed or permanent relationship. Plus, he had an adorable little dog. It was- I thought- a mutually agreeable arrangement. But once he sexually and psychologically abused me, I was gone. Permanently. You get to a point in your life where you realize how valuable time is. When I say I no longer make time for bullshit, I mean it. That dude- by the way- later acquired (I've chosen this word on purpose) an industry award. Hollywood is full of - and too often celebrates- bullshit. And it’s hardly difficult to find in an industry that attracts hurt and broken people, looking to find themselves. Sadly, many believe what The Biz tells them is true. And others support those lies to further their own careers. I’ve witnessed many a colleague completely lose themselves, desperate to fill a gap in their lives. Few actually find the “Happily Ever After” of Hollywood success. And of those who do, there is most often a price.

There are 2 reasons people do things:

1) the desire to experience Pleasure,

2) the need to avoid Pain

A few years ago, while still living in "The Valley” (CA), I’d frequent cafes (as I am right now- quel suprise) and edit photos for the books I self-published. Joan's on Third was a favorite stomping ground. At the time, one of my neighbors was (is) a famous name actor being dragged by the media (and rightfully so) for a slew of disgusting accusations which surfaced. He would deliberately position himself where I had to glance in his direction, then stare me down until I looked his way. He’d invite himself to join me, looking over my shoulder at what I was working on, lavishing compliments, trying to win my favor. Then- manically- complaining about everything and everyone. He wasn’t nervous, just pissed. As if consequences were so...like...annoying. A few years later, He was back on the film grind with a new show and more in the pipeline. Everyone stopped talking about his indiscretions. This happens A LOT in Entertainment. The next public outrage comes along and the old one is forgotten. When I worked in public relations (damage control and marketing), we'd tell our clients that Time was a friend. For this reason.

Hollywood runs on false power and real control. Piss off the wrong player and you'll find your climb up the ladder is greased and missing rungs. To succeed you must - to some degree- be a “Team Player”. Not only where booking jobs is concerned, but out in the field. The general public has heard and become familiarized with some of the behind-the-scenes debauchery over time, but they really cannot grasp that its REAL, and how DEEP the rabbit hole goes.

In my early days in the Biz, I was invited to countless industry parties and events. Some, I actually went to. It was common (for me) to dance with celebs and share booths at exclusive clubs. There were also copious organized events which were more private, where celebs could “let their hair down”, away from the medias gaze. It was around midnight at one such party in The Hills when a large bouncer approached me and my host and explained that we were welcome to stay, but that the party was “going in a different direction”. I got it, immediately, and got up to leave. JUST as a certain celebrity’s naked ass went running up the stairs, chasing a bevy of young, star-struck, spandex-clad 20-somethings (something they were known to do). Lisa, OUT. I never believed I had to sell myself to achieve success. I had the “it factor” then, was talented, smart, and professional. Surely if I kept studying, auditioning and improving my craft, success would be inevitable.

I was wrong. Truth be told, playing the Game can be... helpful.

Everything I’ve accomplished has been done with my integrity intact. There were many opportunities to advance by other means. I couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. Though through the years, I watched several colleagues chose to go the route of hotel meetings and “favors” to shortcut their careers forward. It often ended in tears, protests, pleas, and even blacklisting. I’ve lost at least a few colleagues to suicide or substance abuse along the way. If you don’t have solid people who care about you and keep you grounded, Hollywood is a dangerous playground.

La La Land gets a rep for being a meat market and playground for soulless opportunists and pedophiles. I wont pretend they aren't in the mix. But there are infinitely more good people than bad. Unfortunately, often bad ones are gate keepers and decision makers. It’s not as if depravity and abuse run rampant across the industry. It’s there, but you generally find it by looking for it. I learned to recognize trouble and mastered getting out of uncomfortable situations before they became confrontational / "icky”. Though not necessarily unscathed.

Case in point: I’ve worked in The Biz for nearly 20 years and have around 160 or so credits to my name. But you probably never heard about me until you read this Blog.

(to be continued...)

(PS If you like what you're reading, I welcome contributions to the efforts via Venmo @LTarantinoDesigns)

#hollywood #Success #actress #fame #celebrities #narcissism #women in film #Lisa Catara #blog #memoirs #tea

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firelord-frowny · 2 years

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i can say this Because I'm Black but anyway

the whole concept of Proudly Working Like A Fucking Dog for 45 years just with the hope of finally retiring and possibility of getting to spend the last itty bitty decade of your independent life actually Enjoying Yourself and traveling and finally seeing the grand canyon or whateverthefuck,

is REALLY REMINISCENT of the efforts colonizers/slave owners put into trying to convince enslaved africans that if they just shut up and obeyed and accepted a lifetime of abuse and servitude, they'd be rewarded by going to heaven after they fucking die and then get to spend eternity in peace and comfort.

and now here we are in present day and so many people are Actually Proud to embrace the fact that they're doomed to be unfulfilled for almost the entirety of their independent lives and putting off pursuing peace until they only have a handful of years left before they'll be too weak/frail/sickly to even do any of the things they spent their whole life wishing they could do.

lmfao you're gonna finally buy your RV at 67 and drive it to the grand canyon and then just fucking sit there and stare at it because your joints can't handle actually going on the hike. Gonna finally visit Hawaii but can't tour the observatories because your body can't adjust to the rapid change in altitude. Gonna finally buy your little cabin in the mountains and live there for a whole two years before you have to move back to an urban area after you're diagnosed with a serious ageing-related illness and need to live near a medical facility for a long-term treatment plan.

but aren't you So Proud that you spent 40 years going to work early and staying late and never taking a day off???

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sogloberuins · 2 years

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june 14, 2022

my brother’s cat might have to be put down. our oldest dog has attacked both his cat and my own dog multiple times in the past, even going as far as breaking the cat’s jaw a year or so ago, resulting in surgery. well, she attacked the cat again today. apparently, her eye is bleeding. she most likely will be put down.

here’s why im pissed off: my brothers both got cats at the same time several years ago. they went out of their way to beg for these cats until my parents agreed. we have had so many fucking cats over the years. but my brothers never give these cats any attention. my brothers stay in their rooms (or work) all day, and then never let the cats in their rooms. they would occasionally give affection to the cats, but almost never on their own volition; he’d be sitting on the couch and his cat would walk over to him wanting to be pet

we should not have gotten those cats. i feel bad watching them walk around the house, desperate for attention. meowing, only to be yelled at and ignored. they deserved better than this. than being a decoration in a house. it breaks my heart. this cat will probably die because a selfish man couldn’t live up to a simple obligation.

how hard would it have been to replace his door with a cat door so she could go see him throughout the day? how hard would it be to treat this living being with care and love, instead of neglect and forsaking?

and the fact that, while discussing the fate of his own cat, he jokingly said that he wished it was my own dog that had been attacked. he’s made these types of jokes in the past, “jokingly” saying that he’d choke her to death or wish that she’d run away and never come back. how could he say that to me, knowing how much care and dedication i put into taking care of and loving my dog, when he spends as little amount of time with his cat as he can?

why is he only truly upset when the threat of her death is in question? why was he never crying like he is now when she had her jaw broken? why does he only care when she might actually be taken away from him?

why is this how all men seem to be? all the times i had to threaten suicide to get the people i loved to understand my pain, that being told i wanted to kill myself during an argument was the only thing that would get them to stop yelling?

my brother is so selfish and mean. he’s never had the universe grab him by the shoulders and shake him so violently. he doesn’t deserve the love that that cat so badly wanted to give to him. it’s not fair how we humans abuse and take advantage of such innocent animals like these. what did she ever do it him to deserve such a sad, unfulfilling life?

#diary #blog

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darkwood-sleddog · 3 years

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At the end of the day all dogs, no matter what they look like or what they were bred for, are DOGS. And as such they still want to enjoy the doggie aspects of life. Running and playing and sniffing and digging and engaging with humans in a positive way.

Like your Frenchie would love to run up and down a hiking path the same as my dogs if given the chance but their conformation makes it difficult for them. It’s not that they are lazy or don’t want to. Their brain does not perceive difference, their body simply does not accommodate fun dog things.

Your little dog still wants to interact with others and say things with dog body language and get that body language listened to and respected the same as my dogs but society’s interpretation of what is appropriate around a toy dog and a larger dog is unfortunately different. Their brain does not perceive difference, simply society does not think they are a danger when they react negatively to their boundaries being pushed in a way they do with larger dogs.

Somehow we tend to treat different breeds as separate species, but they are all dogs, all Canis Lupus Familiaris. And they all deserve to do dog stuff. Thank you.

#dogblr #late night ted talk lmao #anyways it grinds my gears #to see so many dogs with unfulfilling lives #and yet people think mushing is abusive like lol okay #I’ve never met a single French bulldog that didn’t seem like it was just....bored out of its mind #because it physically couldn’t do anything #it’s just funny to me that #mushers have to pledge to a welfare organization #about their care #and do all this public tucking outreach #and fight tooth and nail to offset negative public perception #and average dog owners can just sit their #and ignore their chihuahua’s warning growls as if it’s a game of sorry #and like never put the dog on the ground except to piss and think that’s okay #like why do you have a dog again??#to....not? do stuff with it???#huh

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gojoho · 3 years

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PATIENCE

• pairing; au!ryomen sukuna x reader

• premise; you were different than the rest, and with a simple touch the devil makes peace with his boredom for the taste of your skin.

• words; 2,798

• note & warning; every time i proofread what my demon chose to write at three in the morning i cry. why am i like this? honestly, i had so much trouble with sukuna it's amazing that i found a ground to make this on. anyway...unprotected sex ( wrap it up or pack it up ), dirty language, ownership, creampie-breeding kink? i never know which one it is, these mfs just never pullout. enjoy i suppose?

Sukuna was accustomed to the cults that proudly proclaimed him as their leader, or better yet, The Chosen. False disciples to his name, many of which tried to justify their treacherous lives in comparison to his glory. A pathetic bunch he wasted little time over, not one of them much of a rivalry towards that of a king. Though your blood was far too innocent, even for a ruthlessly being as himself, he would not take on such a burdened responsibility. Having been blamed for far less, he wouldn’t live this one down. Feasibly the only reason death escaped you.

Obsession, fascination, none of which seemed that far from one another with him, nor did it matter. At any capacity mortals were tedious, their petty materialistic need; gold this, that, and whatnot. Maybe he was just bored, but then he wouldn’t be giving you much credit, would he? He was quite patient for his tetchy personality, letting you grow accustomed to his territory, where you’d spend the rest of your days. A cub seeing the pride lands for the first time.

“Follow the rules, and you’ll do just fine little cub.” You never shied from his touch, letting him indulge your soft skin, squeezing, nipping, kissing every and anywhere he pleased. But your worth was still up for question thus far, what did you bring that the others couldn’t.

“Open.” You would sit between his legs, knees bent to his divinity abiding every command. Allowing his salty fingers against your tongue, their cleanliness unbeknownst to everyone except him, but it only made you suck on them more. “So eager for me to ruin you.”

That made two of you, but he wouldn’t, not just yet.

He kept you, his precious new pet, close. Allowing your scent to fill his bed, swarm his clothes, and plague him with a hunger driven by an appetite that was you. It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust you, he didn’t trust anyone, but he did trust your behavior. The way you managed to curl up against him at night, your soft snores fanning his back, no matter how much space there was in his bed. How you followed behind him everywhere he went, involuntarily making things less...irritating. Yet your consistency didn’t extend towards the others. Vicious and vengeful, they’d see to it that he’d fall by any means necessary. Even if it meant going through you or letting it be by your own hand.

“Cub,” he’d call you over, legs wide and waiting. You’d mount him facing forward, shamelessly letting your body unwind against his touch.

Fingers working the robes from your frame with ease, instant access to the skin beneath. All while his lips worked around your neck, touching up his handiwork of pink and purple blotches around it. The product of every session. Before he’d break you off, truly make you his, preparation was in order. It’s started with your chest, his hold over your bosom, the small mouthes in each hand working their peaks. Swirling sucking nibbling away at their tenderness until you’d grind against his bulge. Drenching him with your arousal. Clothes only got in his way, he’d have you roam around naked if he pleased but that was sight met only for his eyes, and his alone. Your robes, makeshift Sukuna hand-me-downs, was a barrier between the world and what was his.

After all, it was his touch that made you a mess. ”You're already so wet for me, little cub. Maybe I'll fuck you tonight. Maybe.”

He moved a hand to your heat, parted your folds with two slender fingers while the other hand still devoured your nipple. Sukuna was greedy, common knowledge to anyone who came across the curse, but with a hunger driven by your flesh, he was more insatiable than ever. It wouldn't be long until you were writhing in his lap, every bit of noise coming from your lips. Crying out as he worked your orgasm with his fingers plunged deep in your depths and the tongue on his palm lapping at your clit feverishly.

”Kuna,” you'd mewl, with arms stretched up to his face. The only person still alive to say it let alone give him a nickname.

The rules were simple;

Speak when spoken too

Eye contact

No kissing

A cruel rule that reminded you what the relationship was. He wasn't your lover or anything to you. You belonged to him and he'd use you however he saw fit. If that meant raw dogging you, believe he'd fuck you silly.

Simple, but still difficult nonetheless. He watched your face upturn in admiration, eyes flickering between his and his lips with each whimper. You wanted to kiss him, have his tongue so far down your throat until you choked. Sukuna knew all too well the look you gave him and smirked pressing his fingers deeper, taking your wanton ones to hold his cheek into his mouth. The closet you've gotten to a kiss, but soon your eyes would wander to mess that was your body, watching him unravel your seams, the first orgasm shuddered throughout you.

The first time he had his way, you'd barely made it past one orgasm from his fingers. Now it was six, with at most his fingers and three mouths. He wondered if you’d handle his cock if thrown into the mix. With that thought alone his mind wandered, you handled his hands well but the mystery behind your lips made him twitch just thinking about it. A pretty face with such a content expression, so grateful he granted you a full mouth. Could you handle all of him? If you could, he would've taken what was already his, turned you inside out, and left your body useless to any other being but him.

He deprived himself of a release, letting it build along his thighs and boil at the deepest parts of his body. You were going to take it all from him, feed his hunger while he quenched yours. Truly teaching you what it meant to belong to Ryomen Sukuna, The Great King of Curses.

Each session left you craving more, made your hips sink further against his moving in pure need. Sukuna let you wallow in your tension, desire unkempt and rowdy beneath his nose. You were conflicted between the logic prancing your mind and the hunger of your heat. Where the thought of him feeding you more than just a few fingers made it throb for a release, to be relieved from the fear that kept it empty and unfulfilled.

You'd missed the comfort his presence brought to the bed when pressing matters stole his attention, without it sleep was surreal. Eluding your conscience till he would come back late into the morning, exhaustion settling through the afternoon if he allowed you to. Until one afternoon where he’d prepare to set off again, another village another reign of terror, Sukuna almost missed the tiny grasp at his robes. The few steps he took towards to the exit fell short by his other end.

”Please,” you'd whisper out pleading for him to stay with a mere word.

For a minute, with his sudden stride and grip over your jaw, you think it's enough. That the way he searched your eyes with his bright red pair, you thought you’d convince him. ”If you expect me to abandon my duties for that cunt of yours, you’re going to have to try harder than that little cub.”

His lips ghosted yours, taunting that separate ache from the rest of your body. Practically testing you to see if you’d break one of his rules; screaming to go ahead, kiss him.

”Well then?” he cooed, lips nearly there but your silence only irritated him. Did he spoil you too much, indeed give you too much credit and mistaken you for something you weren't—

”Please Kuna, I need you.”

”Cute…” He smirked, thumb slipping between the two of you teasing your bottom lip. ”No.”

It was a lie if he said he wouldn't turn you around right there and give in to the temptation. Fill your womb with what felt like decades' worth of his cum. Staining his sheets and your insides. Sukuna already knew you needed him, it was because of that need, that the light in your eyes settled to a palpable glow. Later completely gone by the time of his return.

Sukuna never thought to imagine you upset, not with the way you clung to him. Never did he think it would upset him as much as it did. You slept far from his end of the bed, shielding your body from his touch with the linen. The nerve of you, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he’d have you in his lap again.

Wrong.

Too much time had passed since he denied you of your request, too much time since he’s touched you, too much time since you’ve touched him.

“Cub” he called, but for the first time, he was met with hesitance.

You sat on his lap, back to his chest as per usual, but without your usual excitement. Nothing he couldn’t fix, and like always he started with your chest, getting you to flood over his crotch. By then Sukuna would’ve gotten at least a whimper but you remain uncharacteristically quiet to his touch, jabbing at his ego. Come to find out you’d bitten your lip, holding off from letting him hear just how good he was making you feel.

“Brat,” he hissed with the teeth in his hand nibbling at nothing but your clit but even then the most he got was a huff. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play this game.”

It didn’t take much to lift you up from his chair, face planting you straight into the bed. You yelp at the sudden grip over your waist as it hauls your bottom half into to air. This was far from what he planned, but he’d be a fool to let you carry on with your childish ways.

There was no protest with the way he positioned himself to his knees behind you, shedding himself of his robes, setting his cock free into the late-night air. You would never shy away from looking at him naked, curious of every black line, where they connected and didn’t connect. Still, only catching brief glimpses of him, but now that it was there before you—just one taste, that was enough right? It would make any man happy to hide his cock in a pretty mouth like yours, burying it far beneath your throat, hell it made Sukuna weigh his options but he was beyond horny and irritated.

He gifts himself a few strokes, over your cunt, introducing it to its owner. Coating himself in the mix of his salvia and your arousal before pushing the tip past the slick gates of his personal Eden. He sunk into your bowels just past the tip before meeting the resistance of your walls. There was no distinction as to whether you’d been too tight or that he was too big, just that it made him want more. A snug fit, one in which he yearned to destroy, leaving you walls irreversibly stretched.

Your arms flailed around, desperate to find anything to grip onto but Sukuna didn’t give you much of a chance before introducing the rest of his inches to your heat.

“Fuck,” you whined. A squeak of unbearable amazement that all of him was inside you. “Wait.”

He was going to bury himself down to the hilt, each time, fuck you till you were a simpleton. It was always his intention to do so, but your impatience got the best of him.

”Quiet, ” he growled spreading your ass to see himself encased by your insides. Surprisingly you swallowed him whole, but he was sure if you kept squirming away it’d be even more painful. ”This is what you wanted, wasn't it? My cock in this slutty hole of yours.”

”Kuna please.”

”Please Kuna, I need you—is that not what you said?”

”Yes…but fuck—”

”Well now you got me, so keep fucking still and take it.” He shooed your pleading palm from his view and adjusted himself. The movement drove him deeper and you mewled beneath him like a feral feline.

A draft followed behind his pelvis as he pulled out only about halfway, your pussy gripping him as he did. He didn’t trust you wouldn’t squirm again and anchored your hips to his grip. Snapping into you once more, stretching more than his previous thrust.

Sukuna took pride in the size of his cock, in the way it left room for only one, only him. You were going to split in two, or at least it felt like it; he was so big, out of place, but just big. Though that was merely the calm before the storm, with no confirmation let alone sign to warn you, he moved again. Starting off with a strong rhythm that rocked the entire bed. He didn’t do slow, his adjective was to punish, ruin, destroy exactly why you were to be prepared.

With a guttural groan, you felt his cock work, biting against the linens as it drilled in and out of your slickness, squelching all around it.

“Listen to that,” he cooed. “Telling me to wait when your pussy sounds like this. I’m going to fill you up so well. Is that what you want kitten?”

Kitten…

An upgrade from little cub you suppose. The harder he goes, the louder both ends of your body get. Wanted was putting it loosely, it was something, if not the only thing, you needed. Yet it’s still not enough, and so Sukuna stops, leaving you lost to the pleasure he provided. Still full with his cock you moan, pleading for him to continue, eyes barely open and lips pierced by your top teeth. “You know the rules. Speak.”

Bucking against him, desperate for any friction, you whined. “Kuna.”

“Whining gets you nowhere,” He said teasing you with slow strokes in time with your desperate hips. “Answer. The. Question.”

“Yes, ” You were begging for it, the high fading from the mind a little too quickly. ”I need it, all of it.”

Now that you stroked his pride, it was only fair he’d returned the favor. Fleeing from their post against your chest, Sukuna’s hands reach up to your throat. Pulling you up to your own knees, squeeze gently. Pumping into your dripping cunt faster, harder, deeper. Strumming at the chords of your orgasm with each lewd noise he pulled with his cock. Saliva dribbling from your chin.

“Look at you,” he grunted, his own pleasure catching up to him. “Drooling from both ends.”

“Sukuna.”

He leaned into your hands, giving permission for them to tug at his roots, while he nuzzled his nose over your cheek, taking in every crude scent. “Hmm, fucking perfect.”

A compliment if he’d ever given you one, his irritation fleeing from his body and the only thing he can think about is just how good it felt to finally be inside you. The ache of his cock finally being milked. His hand traveled down your body, caressed every curve, every nipple until they settled on your hips.

”Get down, and open up for me.” he ordered quietly, letting his pace falter before getting an obedient ’hmm’

Anything for Sukuna, anything that brought on your orgasm. You arched forward and parted your knees wider, sighing from his hand over your ass again. Kneading and pulling each cheek apart. Picking up the pace again, he wanted to see his cock twitch inside you. See how your body would react. Sukuna wanted to see the mess he made of your hole.

You let a series of colorful curses fly, it was hard to say anything with the explosion inside you, the heat itching just beneath your skin as the adrenaline spiked and rocked you into oblivion.

“Sukuna,” you managed to say but he already knew, feeling the coiling contraction refusing to let him go. A deadly grip that sucked his orgasm through.

The visible veins around his cock, throbbing beneath the thin layer of skin. Slightly moving as the rest of his length spasmed violently against the confines of your flutters. ”Fuck, look at you go, milking me dry.”

His cum wasn't as fluid as it was thick, weeks of pent up lust oozing from your folds. But it meant nothing more but for Sukuna to click his tongue and thrust forward gently a few more times. Fucking it all back into you. Your body twitched ”Oi, shape up, I've only just begun. Besides, I want to try that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You were going to ruin him, as he was you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #gojoho

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misssimreno · 3 years

Text

Fine Line Legacy Challenge

Sims 4 x Harry Styles 💓 Welcome to a legacy challenge inspired by various Harry Styles songs! This challenge was created by myself and my friend Amy because who doesn’t want to see this kind of crossover? This is a 10 generation legacy challenge with a threaded storyline inspired by songs off of Harry’s self-titled album “Harry Styles (2017)” and “Fine Line (2019)”.

Basic Rules:

You can select who will be the heir for the next generation. There are no restrictions on how many children each heir can have!

Unless exclusively outlined in a generation’s rules, you can marry or divorce whomever and do so as often as you’d like.

No money cheats can be used except for when you move in your very first heir in Generation One (freerealestate on).

You MUST complete all aspects for each generation before moving to the next one.

It is up to you whether or not you want aging on or what lifespan you wish to play on (playing on the normal lifespan could be an added challenge!).

There is an optional aspiration to complete for each generation.

If you choose to play this legacy challenge, post using the hashtag #finelinelegacy for us to see! 💓

Gen 1. "Carolina"

You left your small hometown for the big city of San Myshuno. Having grown up under your grandmother's roof with few simoleons to go around, you are pining for excitement, adventure, and a chance to make it big and become a star. As a Young Adult, you packed your bags and rented a "needs TLC" apartment in the Arts District.

Traits: Ambitious, Bookworm, Creative Aspiration: World Famous Celebrity Career: Musical Genius

Rules:

Reach Level 10 of the Entertainer Career (Musician Branch)

Complete the World Famous Celebrity

Reach Level 10 of the Guitar and Piano skills

Reach Level 5 of the Singing skill

Must start in a needs TLC apartment in San MyShuno

OPTIONAL: Complete the City Native Aspiration

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Gen 2. "Kiwi"

You grew up around fame and fortune, but it has left you feeling a bit empty and unfulfilled. Determined to make a name for yourself and step out from your parent's shadow, you've decided to pursue a different craft - acting. You really love cacti and the color black.

Traits: Non-Committal, Hot-Headed, Self-Absorbed Aspiration: Master Actress/Actor Career: Actor

Rules:

Reach Level 10 of the Actor Career

Complete the Master Actress/Actor Aspiration

Reach Level 10 of the Charisma and Acting skills

Reach Level 5 of the Baking skill

Have at least ONE (1) child out of wedlock

OPTIONAL: Complete the Party Animal Aspiration

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Gen 3. "Sweet Creature"

After having been in the public eye your whole life, surrounded by scandal, you seek simplicity, tranquility, and a way to plant new roots for your family. Speaking of family, you feel quite distant from your parents and hope to foster a strong bond with your own children. You always put family first, though your marriage may suffer some strain.

Traits: Family-Oriented, Loner, Cheerful Aspiration: Big Happy Family Career: Education (Professor Branch)

Rules:

Reach Level 10 of the Education Career (Professor Branch)

Complete the Big Happy Family Aspiration

Reach Level 10 of the Research & Debate and Charisma skills

Reach Level 5 of the Logic and Gardening skills

Sustain a garden of at least five (5) unique plants of Great quality

OPTIONAL: Complete the Soulmate Aspiration

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Gen 4. "Golden"

You always knew you were destined for greatness. Your intellect has opened many doors for you, but led you to a very strange place...Strangerville. Material things mean very little to you and you love the idea of being a bit more "off the grid," and self-sufficient.

Traits: Genius, Clumsy, Maker Aspiration: Outdoor Enthusiast Career: Detective

Rules

Reach Level 10 of the Detective Career

Complete the Outdoor Enthusiast Aspiration

Complete the Strangerville Mystery story-line

Reach Level 10 of the Fitness and Fishing skills

Reach Level 5 of the Herbalism skill

OPTIONAL: Complete the Angling Ace Aspiration

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Gen 5. "Sign of the Times"

After your parents' encounter in Strangerville, you became fascinated by aliens, space, and everything science-y. You know there is more to find out there. but first you need to learn everything you can about the unknown. A bit of an oxymoron, isn't it? When you're not fixated on the stars, you love to dance, tinker, and spend time with your many friends.

Traits: Geek, Dance Machine, Perfectionist Aspiration: Friend of the World Career: Engineer (Mechanical Engineer Branch)

Rules

Reach Level 10 of the Engineer Career (Mechanical Engineer Branch)

Complete the Friend of the World Aspiration.

Reach Level 10 of the Rocket Science, Programming, and Robotics skills

Reach Level 8 of the Handiness skill

Travel to Sixam at least one (1) time using a rocket you constructed

OPTIONAL: Complete the Renaissance Sim Aspiration

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Gen 6. "Two Ghosts"

Ever since you were a child, you knew you were different. You had numerous paranormal experiences, which has led you to dedicate your life to the paranormal altogether. You purchased a haunted house to try and get closer to the "other side," however this has left you feeling a bit emotionally burdened and isolated from those around you. You're reasonably covered in tattoos and are known to always wear a simple, white shirt. You hope to one day form a "Seance" club.

Traits: Adventurous, Gloomy, Good Aspiration: Bestselling Author Career: Freelancer (Paranormal Investigator Branch)

Rules

Complete 10 "Expert Paranormal Investigation" events in the Freelancer Career (Paranormal Investigator Branch)

Complete the Bestselling Author Aspiration

Reach Level 10 of the Writing and Medium skills.

Befriend both Guidry and Temperance

OPTIONAL: Complete the Leader of the Pack Aspiration

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Gen 7. "Watermelon Sugar"

You are a very health-conscious sim. Due to your love of animals, you have embraced a vegetarian lifestyle. Protecting the earth and nature is your number one goal in life, aside from ensuring justice is upheld in the courtroom and you are a top tier parent. You favorite fruit is watermelon and you farm your very own watermelons!

Traits: Vegetarian, Green Fiend, Dog Lover Aspiration: Friend of the Animals Career: Law (Judge Branch)

Rules

Reach Level 10 of the Law Career (Judge Branch)

Complete the Friend of the Animals Aspiration

Reach Level 10 of the Pet Training and Juice Fizzing skills

Reach Level 5 of the Parenting skill

Make your neighborhood's Eco Footprint Green for an entire sim year (4 seasons)

OPTIONAL: Complete the Super Parent Aspiration

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Gen 8. "Sunflower, Vol. 6"

Zen. That is what you embody. Where do you feel most zen? At the beach. This is why you live off the grid in Sulani. You practice yoga daily and find a great deal of joy in cooking homemade meals. In your spare time, you dabble in photography and painting. You love sunflowers and have them growing all around your home.

Traits: Foodie, Child of the Ocean, Art Lover Aspiration: Eco Innovator Career: Civil Designer (Green Technician Branch)

Rules

Reach Level 10 of the Civil Designer Career (Green Technician Branch)

Complete the Eco Innovator Aspiration

Reach Level 10 of the Gourmet Cooking and Wellness Skills

Reach Level 5 of the Photography and Fabrication skills

Marry a mermaid!

OPTIONAL: Complete the Painter Extraordinaire Aspiration

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Gen 9. "Canyon Moon"

Having grown up in Sulani, you're not sure how you ended up in quintessential suburbia outside a large city with a corporate job. Life is comfortable, but it lacks the excitement it once had. You want to travel, see the world, and learn about difficult cultures! You love to document your travels and share them online. Sometimes, you can be a bit neglectful of your responsibilities.

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Childish, Self-Assured Aspiration: Archaeology Scholar Career: Business (Investor Branch)

Rules

Reach Level 10 of the Business Career (Investor Branch)

Complete the Archaeology Scholar Aspiration

Reach Level 10 of the Selvadoradian Culture and Mixology skills

Reach Level 5 of the Media Production skill

Vacation at least once in each world!

OPTIONAL: Complete the Jungle Explorer Aspiration OR Mt. Komorebi Sightseer Aspiration

--------------------------------------------------------

Gen 10. "Fine Line"

You were definitely the class clown whilst in school. It was a way to cope with your insecurities, which you haven't been able to shake into adulthood. Nevertheless, your charm and strategic-timing have served you well in your "work," whatever that may be. You know there is always a fine line between life and death, you really live life on the edge.

Traits: Jealous, Goofball, Paranoid Aspiration: Public Enemy Career: Criminal Career (Boss Branch)

Rules

Reach Level 10 of the Criminal Career (Boss Branch)

Complete the Public Enemy Aspiration

Reach Level 10 of the Programming and Comedy skills

Reach Level 5 of the Rock Climbing skill

Graft a Death Flower to cheat death!

OPTIONAL: Complete the Fabulously Wealthy Aspiration

#misssimreno #thesims4 #sims4legacy #legacychallenge #thesimslegacy #legacy #fineline #harrystyles #harrystylessims #sims4harrystyles

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

Text

Comte’s 4th Birthday Story Event: Before the Clock Strikes Midnight

REEEEEEEE Ik it was a long time ago but life has been a [redacted], so I figured better late than never HAHA

So without further ado, anybody who’s curious feel free to click for more--I’ll put it under a cut for spoilers as per usual~

So in this story it’s the usual, a few days before his birthday, and they’re discussing a bump in the road. Essentially, it appears a friend of Comte’s is going to be celebrating a wedding, and as such he’s going into the suburbs/affluent part of the region to be able to attend. It’s only a few hours away from the mansion, but he will be gone for a few days with the arrangements made for his stay.

While this wouldn’t typically be an issue, MC has some things to take care of and opts out of attending with him (preparing for his bday probably LMAO) and Comte is immediately big sad. My favorite dramatic fool is already pouting, though he fully accepts and respects her decision. Besides which, he fully intends to be back in time to celebrate his birthday as well. He notes that he’s always admired how driven and independent she is, and has no intention of getting in the way of that. He’s just going to miss her, is all.

He says as much, figuring there’s no point in hiding it: “I really wanted to bring you with me to attend…but I suppose it simply can’t be helped” … “That’s not it…I guess I’m just wondering if you’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss you while I’m away.”

And MC’s just like “Aw, it’s okay it’ll only be a few days.” While Comte’s response is a very mature, high-pitched whining sound at a frequency only King (Theo’s dog) and Theo himself can hear. When MC tries to reassure him once more, his Hamlet impression continues: “Even the prospect of a few days away from you feels unbearable.”

Naturally, as any man do that loves his wife, he draws her close and proceeds to bang the living daylights out of her. I would offer details, but I have no deets to give beyond: [Well MC, it appears I won’t be letting you get much sleep tonight.]

Brief intermission for the vague sounds of fangirl cardiac arrest.

The scene opens again to him doing his walk of shame (the slut) down the walkway and into the carriage that will take him to his friend’s house. His thoughts carry the regret of burdening her with his desire, though MC is pretty much on cloud nine and unable to stop thinking about the heady night they shared in a good way. Bruh and the sly look when he figures out why she looks like that--I’m boutta call the police, he is going to make women and men alike act up.

MC scrambles to cool his already returning desire by insisting he will be late if he indulges any further, and he laughs and agrees easily–albeit with the slightest hint of reluctance. My favorite part in this exchange is that he kisses her forehead, adding that it’s because she’s the most adorable person in the world to him (a moment of silence for our uwus).

Fast forward to Comte trying to get home after the festivities are over. Problem is, it’s been raining like a mOTHERBLEEPER, and as such carriages have no safe way to traverse the roads at the moment. He waited out the first day as patiently as possible, but after the second–and no sign of stopping–his Leeroy Jenkins instincts kick in. He notes to the coachman that he’s aware he’s asking a lot, but they fully intend to take the long way which invites the least risk–and the rain is ebbing, even if the progress is slow.

It’s interesting because there’s another echo of his main story in this moment. He essentially showcases a desperation to return before the day ends, though without context it’ll probably seem a little strange, so I’ll do my best to explain. Basically, in his main story, MC notes that she doesn’t really care how different they are. Different time, different species, different experiences, so on and so forth. She hammers home that what matters is that the present is something that they actively share. It’s theirs. And no amount of divisions he desperately tries to draw will change that fundamental reality.

And it’s a little moving to see how deeply he takes it to heart? I think it’s one of those wonderful phenomena, personally–the way a person can influence how you think and act with their sentiments. Sometimes someone says precisely what it is we need to hear, and it changes us–while it can be for the worse, it can also be for the better. He notes that he spent so many birthdays; among the people serving his house when he was little, raising hell with his friends in his younger days, so on and so forth. Not unlike Leonardo, he says that after so many “special” days the faces become a blur, the festivities lose their luster. It’s just another day, at this point.

Note, one interesting thing here that stands out to me is that I feel like this is a reflection of both of their larger struggles. Where Comte can’t stand the relentless flow of time rendering him the only constant (and something of a ghost, never fully present), Leonardo can’t bear birthdays because it means remembering people who still mean the world to him, but are long gone. People he can never see again, never laugh with again, never share his life with again. And I think that’s a very profound pain, an anguish that just keeps on settling its weight. (Oh, Sisyphus…)

Comte’s is similar, but different. He actively works to keep his distance-- unlike Leonardo, he approaches immortality in the pragmatic way. He knows getting close will hurt, so he opts out of that–keeps a step behind, an easy smile on his face. Betrays only fragments to anyone, always has his guard up. But the downside of being so guarded means you eventually feel hollowed out and alone; nobody truly knows or understands you. There is a distinct loneliness in that approach, where memories only become reminders of how nothing ever improves and how bereft you are of warmth.

Leonardo, at least, gets to have the joy of being known from time to time. But loss and estrangement from those people means double the pain in the long run, because he loved them fully. Comte chooses to live in the cold to protect himself, but ends up in a kind of catch-22; the cost of forgoing loss means a constant deadening of his own feelings. It means living in a kind of fog, where there is a distinct discomfort in the silent obscurity of your own heart.

There’s something I’ve come to believe in my short course of living, so I guess I still need time to determine how true it is. But…I feel like, when people live this way, where who they are is a lie or it’s at the very least carefully concealed, we in part start to become that lie. I think it’s fascinating because Comte seems to have so much personality to him. He’s dramatic, he’s thoughtful, he has a sense of mischief about him, he has strong ideals, and he has an even more ironclad moral grounding. And yet, when he talks about himself, he always uses descriptions that hinge on emptiness. Like he’s worth so little, worth nothing. And that’s what I mean–he’s been trying so hard to glide on the surface that he has come to believe he really is equivalent to something that ephemeral. Like there’s nothing more inside him, or if there is, that it will never be worthy of much. I think it really speaks to the ways behavior impacts the psyche, even though the opposite tends to be considered the only possible cause and effect relationship.

He’s so determined to live for and in the future while he’s in the present, that he forgets to enjoy himself and really live. And while that approach is certainly understandable, I do think he loses parts of himself along the way. Only to be rediscovered and placed back into his hands by MC: [Today–this moment–our now, I don’t want to miss it for anything.] And that's not even touching on how quick she is to make them a we; she's not letting him keep that distance. It’s not “you have the ability to share this day with me” it’s “we’re here and in this together.”

I feel like what I love about this is that it’s not only about how sweet he is on MC, but also about how much he’s truly living again for the first time. His defenses are slowly inching their way down, he’s letting himself hope and want things and look forward to things again. The thing about being a responsible person is that–while responsibility is all well and good–sometimes you become so mired in doing the right thing and planning the most optimal outcomes that you just aren’t thinking of yourself anymore. That is, if you ever were to begin with. He went from the careful cultivation of a life as an aristocrat, to a life that spoke of more freedom and fun beyond those iron wrought gates, before he returned to the structure of what he knew. Freedom speaks to him I’m sure–we all need it in some measure to survive. But I do think a good portion of that was unfulfilling for him after a point. It was only feeding the void that was beginning to form inside him. He was instinctively retreating into himself to avoid pain, and in doing that the only result was feeling like a coward and a fake. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t able to be himself, and nothing was fulfilling–every single day just another forward march.

I think it comes as no surprise he took up Vlad’s initial invitation so willingly.

But then I digress, back to the story. There’s another timeskip and it finds him racing down the hall of the mansion. He’s hoping to make it in time but knows he’s racing against the clock, and fully expects MC to be asleep by this point in the night. Midway along his path he thinks he spots MC and falters in his step, blinking. He decides to hang back, watching the figure enter his room with a great deal of curiosity and resists every urge to burst in after her. He hears MC speak into his pillow, her voice muffled but clearly despondent: “I miss you, Comte. I hope you get back home soon…”

Comte pretty much dies right there. I literally have no better explanation for it. He freezes, his heart sputters and stops. He’s just completely taken aback.

And then, naturally, he goes about feral with desire as is his modus operandi: “Oho, I heard something incredibly cute just now. Were you also having a hard time spending so long apart?”

MC: “…!”

[Startled, she turns around and her eyes widen and widen.]

MC: “Comte, how...”

Comte: “Took a detour in areas with less rain.”

MC: “?? Wouldn’t that still be hard in weather like this?”

Comte: “I told the coachman I wanted to see you as soon as possible. Even if it was only for a second, I wanted to spend today with you…”

[Everything I was thinking while in the carriage spills out of me long before I can help it. I am reminded again of just how utterly irreplaceable an existence MC is in my life.]

Comte: “Even so, it seems interesting that I would find you in my bed”

MC: “...! A--Ah, I’m so sorry for entering without permission!”

[I quickly grab hold of her before she can scramble out of my bed, coaxing her to sink back into the sheets.]

In between a lot of intense making out and [redacted], the larger overtone is that her reciprocated ardor just destroys him inside:

MC: “It was...because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about wanting to see you…”

Comte: “!”

[You know just how to drive me mad with desire.]

Comte: “I’m the same...the first thing I did was look for you. Even though it was only a few days, your voice, your body, everything...I missed you”

[Because today, our ‘now’--I never want to lose a single moment with you as long as you’re by my side...]

Comte: “I’m so happy to be able to be with you, right here and right now.”

It gets funny too because Comte is trying to take it slow, but when she tells him “Happy birthday” and goes on to say she was so glad to greet the day he was brought into the world by his side, he just loses all control LMFAO. It ends with them getting more heated and [redacted], to the point where he doesn’t even hear the clock strike midnight.

And if him being the cutest and sexiest romantic wasn’t obvious enough, he spends the next morning just sighing blissfully with her in his arms:

[The next morning, when I wake up, MC is still fast asleep. I mean, given she only fell asleep a few hours ago. I’m still reveling in the afterglow of a sweet night filled with her cries, the way she looked at me and held me. MC...]

[I relax to the sound of her breathing steady with sleep, stroking gently at her hair as I hug her from behind.]

Comte: “I’ve had countless birthdays. In an endless life, I was convinced it was just a day that would come and go every time.”

Comte: “It was only after meeting you that I could understand there was no such thing as an overlapping or identical moment. I don’t want to miss a single second by your side...that’s what I think now.”

[I admit the truth of my heart, brushing a kiss against her cheek. Over and over and over again, showering her in my affection--]

But dun dun dun!!! MC was awake the whole time, so when she fidgets a little at how ticklish his kisses are, he 👁

[Oh, I see. Well then, two can play at that game...]

Comte: “Your punishment is to stay in my arms just as we are...how’s that?”

He gets his mischievous (and hilarious) revenge for being revealed (HORNY TIME), though it’s so suffused with love it’s hard to call it revenge hahaha. She reminds him to go easy on her because they have his birthday party to attend later, and he agrees~

Honestly after such killer hurt/comfort spice fluff, I can only tremble at the thought of what his 5th year bday story will be

It’s either going to be Some Angst^TM or even more killer fluff, and either way that means my days are numbered

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp jpn spoilers #ikevamp leonardo #the way this man makes me have So Many Thoughts #every time i remember this story i just go dreamy-eyed #hes an absolute romantic and i die head empty only love comte #not incorrect quotes #rambles #fangdad propaganda #comte propaganda

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