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#I can't tell you in more detail than that
ozzgin · 2 days
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The Mean Girl Bully Reader x Nerd Loser Yandere story sparked another red flag reader idea I had 😈
Imagine a Bratty Female Reader x Well Mannered Wealthy Male Yandere. Unlike our favorite monster whore gal, and two-faced bully, this new reader insert is super vocal about her distaste in just about everything. Hardly anything is up to her “standards.” She not only complains, but whines too! 🥳
Then her poor beau weirdly loves her despite her horrid personality. I don’t know how, I’ll leave that part of imagining up to you, but there’s my request 🥺
I just like morally grey or blatant antagonistic readers. A lot of times, it’s more fun if the reader is attractive this way to a yandere, than having stereotypical good traits, like being compassionate or respectful 😔
So please, a Bratty Female Reader x Well Mannered Wealthy Male Yandere?
-👘
I was wondering if I should just incorporate this into the Yandere CEO draft I have, but I had this sudden idea for a downright shameless relationship between a beloved, well-respected politician and a perverted, needy brat of a Darling. (I don't like politicians but alas, I needed a high-stakes public profession for this)
Yandere! Politician x Bratty! Reader
Mr. Politician is a true rarity in his field of work: well-mannered, articulate, and most importantly, genuine in his dedication. He works tirelessly for change and improvement, earning the adoration of the people. There's only one exception to his loyalty: no country ever comes before his Darling. And what a demanding Darling you are...
Content: female reader, older yandere, NSFW, some exhibitionism
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Many would describe their interactions with Mr. Politician as follows: he's disciplined, confident and resourceful. A natural born leader, you can tell within seconds of meeting him that he is a man to rely on. He's spent many years in the game, and nothing can shake him out of his signature calmness. He keeps everything in pristine order, and nothing escapes his scrutiny.
There is, however, one quirk only few select people know about. A detail no one dares to discuss. It is common knowledge that Mr. Politician has a partner, yet the particularities of it are kept private. His beloved is a much younger girl, rotten to the core. It is unclear how this pairing came to be; the day Mr. Politician won his place in his prestigious office, he showed up with the mysterious feminine figure at his side.
What's certain and obvious to all witnesses is that his vocabulary quickly discards any meaning of refusal whenever he's dealing with you. It almost feels like the man worships you. He's never alluded to being religious, most likely because that role's been taken already. His eyes soften whenever directed at you, gleaming with raw adoration.
Splurging on expensive things is a given. Money has never been an issue for someone of his status. In fact, it's a handy and convenient tool he frequently uses to dampen the damage of your tantrums.
"Disgusting", you spit between your teeth, pushing the plate away and crossing your arms. The renowned chef of the Michelin star restaurant can only stare in horror before Mr. Politician intervenes with a chuckle. "Not feeling it today, huh?", he coos at you with loving strokes. "May I ask that you bring everything else from the menu?" he says in a sterner voice to the employee. "E-everything, Sir?" the waitstaff questions. "Well, naturally. I can't let my Darling starve."
"I'm bored. Let's leave now", you mention bluntly, standing in front of the heavily ornate table with a huff. "Are you sure, Darling? It's an important meeting for the country", Mr. Politician tries to plead. Around him, the other men sit baffled, observing the outrageous exchange. "Now!" you conclude louder. Before anyone can protest, your boyfriend stands up obediently and reaches out for your hand. "Then allow me to guide you, love."
A paradox. His earnest work is put to a halt if you require anything from him. Somehow, he has until now managed to juggle the two with little effort, and to his credit, there have been many instances requiring nerves of steel. Such as you paying him an unannounced visit to the office, and disliking the fact he was unavailable due to a meeting. So, you marched over to the window and promptly flashed your chest against the glass. Everyone else was focused on the opposing whiteboard; he was the only one who immediately noticed your arrival. "As you can see, the expected result is irresistible", he continued with a professional smile, tapping the graph with a marker.
Everyone knows Mr. Politician is fervently devoted to his principles. Take his last public speech, for example. Knuckles white from gripping the podium, he'd nearly choked during an eloquent -but passionate - conclusion. His face was red, his jaw tightened. He needed a moment to recollect himself, and the public waited with bated breaths, visibly emotional. Of course, they couldn't tell the outrageous truth: that you were shamelessly kneeling at his feet, pumping and teasing his erection until, at last, he let go all over your face.
"I wanted to see if you'd stumble on your words", you explain afterwards, wiping the sticky liquid off with a damp cloth. "That would've been unpleasant", he responds with a shiver. "It was live on national television."
He does not seem too bothered by the potential risk of being caught. Truly, his nonchalance knows no bounds when it comes to you. Or perhaps it is part of the charm. There's something quite depraved yet tempting about this perpetual contrast.
To return your daring favor, he gently places you onto his desk and spreads your legs, leaving trails of kisses along the inner surface of your thigh. A quick glance down confirms his suspicions: your bare bottom lays on top of confidential, rather important documents he dutifully signed hours ago. How thrilling of a feeling! He already smiles in anticipation, picturing himself as he hands over the folder to the oblivious party. He's not breaking any rules, now, is he? Nowhere in the book of etiquette does it state you mustn't fuck your beloved on top of official papers.
You gaze at the disheveled face underneath you. "One day I'll get you in trouble", you blurt out between whines. "Me? Oh, Darling. You know I always have everything under control." He lifts himself up and gives you a quick, desperate kiss. "Including you."
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akutasoda · 2 days
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do you think you'd kill for me?
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synopsis - it was every basic troupe in a story for an officer to fall in love with the criminal but now gallagher knew why
includes - gallagher
warnings - gn!reader, reader is a criminal/stowaway, reader is cocky + flirtatious, slight mentions of hurting others + alcohol, written before gallagher comes out so maybe ooc, wc - 1.6k
a/n: had to write this for the best bloodhound, he's just being consuming my thoughts lately and i can't wait to pull for him
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a long drawn out sigh sounded throughout the empty office, overshadowed by the visitors steps as they turned heel and left. a faint squeak and drag of a chair soon accompanied as the remaining man stood up from his chair, he tousled and pulled at the magenta tie before his scarred hands hovered over the new report. the file lifted as he opened it unceremoniously and his eyes glossed over the details - another stowaway would be nothing new but this was the third report about the same stowaway in penacony.
gallagher really couldn't believe the nerve of some people, first they slip into the dream world unnoticed and now they dared mess with the dream world - if he wasn't so dedicated to his job he'd probably quit and become a full time bartender. low footsteps as he crossed the room after he reasoned with himself that it'd be better for everyone if he solved the issue sooner rather than later. the only outstanding issue was that nobody had ever seen the stowaway so he didn't exactly know who he was looking for but maybe that was the reason he was assigned the case.
~~~
the streets were bustling as always, it was always golden hour afterall. the skyline was rather beautiful and the chimes of the clock on the grand hotel held absolute power over the noise of the streets. pepeshi's, couples, workers, singers, and all other kinds of people walked past you completely unaware of who you were - you were even cocky enough to smile at the young bloodhounds that looked you're way.
to you breaking into penacony's oh so famous dreamscape was a challenge you set yourself. they said all you dreams could come true here and maybe you twisted that a little to see truly how much you could get away with, surely you weren't the only person wanting to act on some intrusive thoughts and test the limits of what dreams could come true. it was petty crimes to begin with really, you meant no harm. originally you just wanted to steal from a few places but unfortunately bystanders sometimes got in the way - they weren't hurt too badly, you didn't want that.
eventually you started realising how dark this dream could be, especially when you first accidentally slipped into a deeper level of the dream after trying to run from the bloodhounds. quickly, you realised that this could happen to any unsuspecting guest of penacony. a part of you thought that naybe you could put your skills to use and redeem the harm you did to someone by saving unsuspecting penacony visitors, but for the most part you kept to yourself and your slightly warped ideas.
throughout you're entire time as a stowaway you'd become quite acquainted with various bloodhounds, even though they had no clue who you were. cockiness had also developed inside you when you realised that they genuinely held no leads towards yourself and your biggest risk was when you joined some bloodhounds in a small bar and talked to them like you'd known them for years. although at that bar you're attention was dragged towards the older bloodhound behind the counter, you could tell by the little broach on his grey suit - you turned to your new 'friends' and asked them who he was, they had no idea apparently.
gallagher could catch your keen gaze staring at him for most of the night, especially because you were sat right at the bar with two bloodhounds. he'd never seen you before and maybe it was the alcohol, from his own personal flask, talking but he felt more inclined to amuse your curiosity. he served the newer customers before walking back over to you and started witha gruff 'you fetching for a new drink? or you got a question for me?' you simply smiled at his question before the corners of your lips quirked up slightly as you responded along the lines of 'can a paying patron not appreciate the bartender in his glory?'
if the bloodhound was being honest, your curiousty and outright flirtatious remarks only spurred him to entertain you more. 'how about i mix you up a new drink there, running a bit low aren't we?' he looked you straught in the eyes when you glanced back up from your drink and watched as you slid the empty, ornate glass toward him with a simple 'surprise me'. you watched attentively while he turned to grab a few bottles before grabbing the silver cocktail shaker and pouring in a mix, perfectly measured without needing to even measure numerically. gallagher had mixed drinks for patrons plenty of times but with your inquisitive gaze fixed upon his every moment made him gulp a couple more times as he became very conscious about each move he made.
eventually he finished his show by spinning the shaker in his hand before graciously pouring it out into your glass. placing a small decorative cocktail stick inside and sliding it back with a weary smirk 'a special drink for a special patron then'. you took the glass in your hands and raised it in a toasting motion before taking a swig.
gallagher would tend to the rest of the bar's patrons for the rest of the night but could always feel your gaze on him and perhaps he put on more of a show because of this, but who knows? his eyes trailed you when you finally left and he looked back over to where you had been sat to notice a small pile. a very generous tip layed neatly on rhe bar but what caught his attention the most was the note left on top:
'a tip befitting the handsome bartender who served me tonight'
beneath was signed your initials. he quickly pocketed the note before picking up the tip but not before doubling a look at the money itself.
~~~
they probably assigned him this case because they knew he knew something the rest of the bloodhound's didn't. he knew exactly who the stowaway was and where to find them. you seemed to always know when gallagher had a shift at the local bar because he knew you only showed up on those nights. each time went the same, he'd entertain your antics, you'd both pass equally flirtatious remarks, he'd make you a new drink and then you'd leave - always leaving a generous tip.
the first time you left a tip he stared at it for too long not to notice the serial number. it had become all too convenient for his encounters with you to be after a robbery in penacony and it was even more convenient that you'd left a tip each time with that places serial number on the money. admittedly, it took him a while to piece it together but maybe that was because he didn't want to believe it. the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, was when you left a note at your most recent encounter reading -
'i think you and me both know this cat and mouse game will end eventually right?'
to anyone, they might of assumed it was a weird way of asking the other out but he knew what it meant and that's why he went to the location you detailed on the other side. you knew exactly what you were doing from day one, both of you knew that. he stayed stationed at the spot you named akd he waited on guard for any signs of you, while doing so he felt a weird sense of excitement bubble inside of him. the area was rather secluded so if you showed up he'd know right whe-
'my my, the handsome bloodhound has taken up my offer. i feel rather flattered', your smug voice rang through his ears and he immediately turned around. he was greeted by the sight of you sat upon the roof of the building with that all too familiar smug face. 'are we finally cutting to the chase?' your face tilted slightly to the side before you continued 'or do you not have the confidence to be able to catch me bartender?'
oh how he hated that smug grin of yours, but oh how he loved it all the same. a small, deep chuckle left his lips before retorting 'i only gave you a headstart stowaway, don't go wasting it' he watched you stand up as you added 'don't lie to yourself gal, we both know you wouldn't catch me, because i've already made a special place for myself in your heart and you couldn't dream of putting me behind bars'
you were right. it was against the law and so so corny for the law to fall in love with the criminal. but here he was, and you both knew all too well.
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contact-guy · 2 days
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heyyy I hope it's okay to send an ask! I just wanted to know about your art process, if you got any advise. Because I'm in love with your SH doodles, they're so dynamic and lively and the shading is such a nice accent yet it remains somewhat minimalistic? I'm relatively decent at realism but want to develop my own character in drawing more and I'm wondering how you arrived at yours, did you have a method? Thanks in advance^^
love to talk about DRAWING......
The short answer is that because I want to draw them a lot, and have limited time, I can't be too precious about how the final result looks! So a lack of perfectionism and a desire for speed ends up forcing me to simplify and stylize them. This was an organic process (if you scroll down my art tag you can see I was drawing them with a bit more detail, finish, and care a few months ago - I was illustrating vs what I'm doing now, cartooning).
Ideally when you are cartooning, every line of the character's face is doing work to make them THEM, and to tell a story. No unnecessary lines! I find that story is best expressed through eyes, eyebrows, and mouth (this might be different for you). Those features can and should change shape to express emotion. They are usually what I draw first, to figure out the emotion, and they're what I spend the most time tweaking.
The rest of the features - face shape, cheekbones, nose, forehead, ears, hairline - are less emotive, less 'plastic', they don't change shape much. These are doing work to make the character recognizable. I try to keep them simple and have a few simple rules that I can remember about each character.
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(Watson is tricky because of his mustache! I've found that treating it as part of his mouth rather than a distinct piece works best, but even so it makes his face less emotive - which, honestly, works for the character, as he is less demonstrative than Holmes)
I'll usually do a simple underdrawing to figure out what the body is doing - trying to capture the energy of a pose and, again, thinking about what story the body is telling.
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Then I 'ink' in the clothing, following the lines of the body and gravity. Victorian clothing is fun to draw, I find that the structure around the shoulders and neckline lends itself to expressive poses. I did a bunch of Victorian clothing studies a few months ago and felt like I built up a 'library' in my head so that I don't need to reference it every time.
Shading is incredibly minimal and quick. In really simple drawings, its purpose is usually to distinguish characters from the background. In more detailed ones, it's to give them a little dimension and focus the eye to the faces.
Every choice I make is in service of readability rather than beauty or accuracy, if that makes sense. So it is quite a different mindset than when you're drawing realistically or painting.
I hope this was helpful! I am a professional artist but whenever I get sucked into a fandom I find myself making leaps and bounds in my craft because I want to draw so MUCH and don't care about making it polished...truly shout out to hyperfixation for the gifts it brings
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darcydoesfuckall · 2 days
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Why you should write that AO3 comment:
Hello! I am an AO3 author and professional fandom dipshit. This is an "essay" on why you should leave that comment on the fanfic you just read.
Table of Contents:
"Commenting is too much effort!"
"I don't know what to write!"
Do you want more fanfic?
Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.
You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.
"Commenting is too much effort!"
Yes, writing a comment takes energy. I'm an introvert, I get that. I have two counter arguments to this point.
AO3 comments are not the SAT:
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This is a comment from my latest fic, Quantum Entangled.
Three words and a heart. It requires zero consideration, it isn't specific to the fic, it's something you could copy-paste, even. A comment like this is better than nothing. I'll let my reply from AO3 explain why:
"You know what, I appreciate this way more than you'd probably expect. The temptation to lurk is a strong one, both for social anxiety reasons and internet content-consumption culture reasons. But when people lurk, I can't tell that they've enjoyed the story. The more people that lurk instead of interacting, the more I assume that my work wasn't good enough, irrespective of the reader's actual feelings. So this was a very welcome comment to read. Thank you for indicating your enjoyment. I will endeavour to write more stuff for you to lurk on in the future. :)"
A comment like this, one that is as thoughtless and low effort as possible, is still a comment. Something that denotes a reader's interest. Because, and I can't be clear enough about this, I HAVE NO OTHER WAY OF KNOWING THAT YOU LIKED IT. Kudos and comments are my only window into the reader's experience.
Sure, I'd love more detailed and thorough comments on my work, but, if that expectation is the thing that's going to stop you from commenting at all, I'd prefer the bland copy-paste appreciation.
Onto my second argument.
Do you know what also takes effort? WRITING THE DAMN FIC:
You do not get to complain about being forced to type a congratulatory handful of words after reading that 200k slow-burn fantasy au. Do you know how many hours went into that thing? Do you? Because I can guarantee that it was A LOT. All that writers are asking for is a single emoji. A kudos, at the very least. Consider the effort that went into the creation that you've just experienced and give just a thimble full of it back.
Authors lay out a feast for you to devour. They're only requesting a "thank you".
"I don't know what to write!"
Like in the previous example, an AO3 comment can be as simple as three words saying that you appreciated it. Just an acknowledgement that you were there. It doesn't have to be fancy.
But if you want fancy...?
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Here's one of my comments, from Tishae's Better Together.
Let me break it down for you.
"Stunning. This au is so well developed. I love how you managed to maintain tension after the point that they discover that their feelings are requited. This was brilliantly paced, and the action (esp the ending) was so engaging."
The comment opens with appreciation. (Think of it as a sandwich with love as the bread. It starts and ends with my enjoyment.)
There are specific details about what I liked.
"If I may ask, what was the crime that the Metatron committed? Maybe I'm bad at reading between the lines or maybe I missed something, but I'm really curious as to what dirt they have on him. Victimless? Bad enough for imprisonment, but not so morally reprehensible as to make Anathema reveal it? Did he embezzle? That's all I can really think of."
Continues with a specific question about the story and plot.
Shows that I was critically engaged and actively considering the story.
You don't have to have questions about every fic that you read, but don't be afraid to ask them if you do. I love it when people ask me about my work.
"Thank you for the delicious food. I honestly thought that you were going to have Crowley's final look be something in grey (black and white being the theme of the show, metaphorically representing separation/binary, so Aziraphale was uncomfortable with it due to the implications. Grey, symbolising unity/shades of grey as an idiom, would then be the biggest middle finger to the Metatron) but I do really like what you came up with."
Gratitude.
Thoughts about how I read the plot. (This is something I particularly love to read as an author. Please tell me what's going on in that funky lil' brain of yours!!)
"I'm hoping this comment provides plenty of dopamine. If the task activation and instant gratification parts of your brain light up, you might be more likely to write GO content again. Love your work, thanks for sharing it. I hope you gain 3 inches of metaphorical dick length. Please keep writing."
Encouragement to keep writing. (This is the best way to ensure that creators remain in the fandom)
A funny comment to sign off.
Now that you know what to comment, let's start on the real reasons why you should.
Do you want more fanfic?
Fun fact! Fanfictious Authoria are a species that sustain themselves entirely on a diet of brain worms, unfinished WIPs, and kudos. As one of the three fundamental food groups, removing kudos from the fandom ecosystem causes a complete collapse of the natural order. In times of unprecedented scarcity, entire populations of Fanfictious Authoria can die out completely. This means that the production of fanfiction, in that particular region of fandom, stops entirely, often causing major ecological damage, and the subsequent deaths of fan species in the same genus. (Like the Fanfictious Artia, or the Fanfictious Editour, both of which subsist on fanfiction based diets to survive.)
In conservation efforts, experts are imploring readers to donate kudos and comments toward any fandom region that they want to stay alive.
But I digress.
When I want more content, I tell the author. Ask and you shall receive; it's the best way to convince an author/artist to make more.
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My comment on @mrghostrat's And They Were Streamers
You liked it? Then COMMENT! Not for the author's sake, but for your own. You want to see the ending of a WIP? Well, it'd be a terrible shame if the author gave up on it because they thought no one was reading... They don't know that you enjoy their work until you TELL THEM. They're not psychic, you have to help them hear you. Commenting on the things you like influences the creators of said things to attribute the act of making content (and, notably, making the type of content that specifically appeals to you) with the dopamine hit of reading your reaction. Treat them like Pavlov's dogs. Ring the kudos-bell.
Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.
They have real human feelings and real human egos. The contemporary attitude towards media engagement is skewed towards algorithmic, instant, and uncritical consumption. This is pumping straight gasoline into the beautiful lakes of our fandom ecosystem. Fandom cannot afford to treat its creators like mechanical text generators. We are not an unfeeling assembly line, only there to produce content. We are enthusiasts, engaging in our hobby. No fan creator has to show you anything. They are fully within their rights to keep their works hidden in their computer files, never to see the light of day. Every fanfic on AO3 is only there because someone had the grace to share it with you. You are not entitled to an author's work, just as they are not entitled to your kudos. We have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Do not forget your part in this symbiosis.
It's a problem that extends beyond AO3. Tumblr is a less enthusiastic place than it used to be. Fandom as a whole is drifting towards a consumption mindset. I, for one, am sick of it. Reblog things, like them, share them. Make fanart of fanart. Who gives a shit? Do the cringy thing. You don't have to cultivate your blog aesthetic. Be who you are, like what you like, and have enthusiasm about all of it. Fandom should be an expression of radical self acceptance. Embrace it. Leave essays about fics that you liked. Reblog the essays of other's when you see them. Exist in the mutual joy of seeing and being seen. You are not just an external observer, absorbing content from a distance. You are here too. Wave back at us. Say 'hi.'
You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.
My final appeal is a moral one.
Commenting on AO3 is just a kind thing to do.
You are your actions. Are you the kind of person who does the kind thing when no one is watching? When no one will care?
Fanfiction is a hobby, and I'm not here to guilt you about how you spend your leisure time. I'm only here to say that there is a kindness you could be giving the world.
If you are one of the people that performs this kindness, I thank you.
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pururing · 2 days
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Hi everyone, thank you so much for your supportive messages. I'm not sure if it's okay to answer since I don't allow anonymous questions, so I didn't. I'll go thank you personally later when I have time.
I was pretty upset yesterday and will be thinking about what to do for a while(probably just sit and wait for the next episode for now), but thanks to a few people who were willing to speak up, I had a much better day for you. It means a lot to me that you took the risk of getting involved in a needless dispute and did this.
I think most of the communication failures start with the disagreement that Asians can't be whiter than Caucasians (I'm not convinced of this, so I prefer the way it's portrayed in the show).
And when I said that children tend to have lighter skin than their parents, I meant that they are generally lighter because they haven't seen much sunlight yet. They will change as they grow, This is due to the experience of watching many children(mostly my baby sibling and cousins) and my own growing up experience. but perhaps my translator mistranslated it as "getting lighter as they older" which is opposit of what I tried to tell, and I didn't catch it, so there was some miscommunication.
As I mentioned, I'm just working from what I see on the screen. I did find some pictures that suggest that Jee may look brighter than maddie, but I won't upload them here because the gif creator may be offended that I'm dragging his work into this debate. (My google search was jee maddie. If anyone wants to look it up.)
I don't think there's any more controversy to be had, and I'm sure anyone who disagrees with me has already blocked me, so I'm going to try something a little different. Here's the real reason for my boring and long post.
I wanted to clarify that I am very careful with racial descriptions.
As I said before, I'm a mainstream Korean and because of this, I grew up in an atmosphere that was pretty indifferent to other cultures and countries. When I became an adult, I was fortunate enough to have friends from Europe, America, Canada, Latin America, Southeast Asia, etc. I was quite shocked. The world is so much bigger and more diverse than what I had conceptually known. And that people in those cultures are very proud of their identity. And I really respect it.
After that realization, I could have gone back to living a normal life in Korea, but unfortunately, I was born to be a fanartist, and I started to like foreign content instead of Korean content. (like Japanese, Chinese, English-based content, etc.).
I learned about how some effective but insensitive depictions can be historically and realistically offensive and unpleasant experiences for certain races. The problem is that there are a lot of small details that you really don't notice if you're not a party to them, especially since so many discussions are primarily in English and the information curated by a few active people and translated into our social media is where most of our knowledge comes from, so we can offend people without even trying.
I am very aware of this and am open to input from others in this regard. I am very cautious about drawing a race I don't know in the first place, so I try to avoid realistic depictions. But on the other hand, the "cartoon" style I've been taught actually leads me to omit many features. Age, body type, beauty. So this is the style I've adopted when I want to draw fanart of works based on real people, especially if they're multiracial (especially since I've always been more of a comic artist than an illustrator.) I wish I was a better artist and had more options, but honestly, this is my limit. Sorry.
I would like to apologize if anyone feels hurt or upset by any of my non-Asian characters and thinks they are too stereotypical, don't look like them at all, or are too ridiculous.(Even white people. I was taught that there are many differences and histories even among people who are considered white.)
I really don't want to use my art style as a shield to justify any depiction of race, and I'm worried that someone might get the wrong idea that I have such an opinion.
All of my intentions are simply to make sure that no one in the fandom is offended by the artwork, and to provide some lighthearted entertainment that is just a good laugh at a silly cartoon.
Sometimes people wonder why we invest so much passion into a character on screen, but it's a great feeling to share and empathize with someone who feels the same way. Especially when they have something in common with you. That's why I cared so much about Jee and Chimney even though I'm primarily a Buddie shipper. I don't know a lot about immigrants, but I found it very funny and entertaining that he immigrated when he was 5 years old, his family moved back to Korea, and his father video calls from his very traditional grandfather's room. Despite the many inaccuracies, it's fun to see someone try this hard. I will say here that I am very cautious when drawing other races because I understand that my inaccurate depictions can create an unpleasant experience for others, especially if they feel a strong connection to them.
So, I'm not sure what I will do in the future or when I will draw and share more, but if anyone finds any depictions in my future drawings that may be offensive, I will be open to being corrected. I just don't want my Korean identity to be infringed upon by claims that I don't resemble the way "Asian stereotypes" are drawn. (There's a reason I say Korean identity, not Asian or East Asian. The history here is too complex to group into one word…) I will respect others and you will respect me. That's all I want.
Anyway, that's all I have to say. I am aware that my upbringing inevitably narrows my perspective, and I don't want to use my people of color or non-Western culture as a weapon to further an agenda of agency that I don't have.
If anyone is still reading, thanks for the long read. really. And I'm sorry for bringing conflict into the fandom.
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storydays · 18 hours
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Hello Rosie! P3
(3rd POV)
*With Charlie*
"Alright, what has you so out of sorts, darlin'?" Rosie asked, letting Charlie into her private room. "You clearly got more on your mind than angels."
"What do you do when someone you love lies to you about who they are?" Charlie sighed, hugging herself. "Romance? My specialty. C'mon, dearie, details, details!" smiled the cannibal. 
"My girlfriend is an exorcist angel...and she never told me." 
"Oh, shit. Quite a secret. How does that make you feel?" 
"Just...angry...because we share everything. Because she always supported me, and my ideas, and now I just don't know whether or not that was more of the lies.." Charlie gasped, eyes wide. "Oh no, that's a horrible thing to think! Do I think that? Yes! N--No? Kinda?" the princess sobbed slightly, feeling overwhelmed in her feelings.
"You said you love this girl?" Rosie asked softly. 
"Yes...or, well, I..yes." Charlie nodded more firmly, knowing she still loves Vaggie. "Aw. Have you ever once doubted that she loves you in return?" Rosie sat next to Charlie, patiently waiting for her repsonse. 
The blonde shook her head no. 
"Well, then what's the problem?" 
"She took part in the very thing we've been working so hard to end. She might've even been the one who killed my brother's ex-fiance!" Charlie's eyes widen at the thought. 
"Well, isn't that silly hotel of yours all about redemption?" 
"Yes?" 
"Perhaps this girl was trying to redeem herself too?" Rosie hummed. "She knows better than anyone that I believe in second chances. Why not tell me?" wondered Charlie.
"It can be difficult to admit to things you're not proud of, especially if those things hurt the ones you love. She fucked up, sure, " Rosie smiled brightly, "She's flawed. But hey, who down here isn't? If there's anything I've learned, it's that words are cheap, but actions, they speak the truth." 
The demoness' shared a smile. "So, what have her actions said?" Rosie asked, with a knowing smile. 
"That she believes in me and what we're doing. Right now, she's off learning how to protect everything we've worked for..and I can't even pitch my hotel right." Charlie smiled, thinking of the ex angel before groaning at her own actions.  
"Well, how do you normally explain your hotel?"
"By singing," Charlie smiled giving jazz hands before deflating, "but that never works." 
"It will work here, trust me." 
With that promise, they walked back out to the crowd, Alastor offering Charlie his microphone staff, he and Rosie sending the princess soft, encouraging smiles.
*Back at the hotel*
Charlie and Vaggie lead their groups back to the hotel approaching each other. "Looks..like you've had a busy day." Vaggie said, looking over Charlie's shoulder, making Charlie do the same. "You too." 
"Charlie, I--" 
"Hold that thought." Charlie dug in her pocket before holding out a key chain to Vaggie. "Ah! I got you a souvenir from Cannibal Town." The Princess smiled hopefully at Vaggie. 
The ex angel smiled, teary eyed before rushing forward into her girlfriend's waiting arms. "Oh, Charlie." 
Charlie smiled, before eyeing the wings on Vaggie's back. "The wings are new. They look nice," purred the princess, sending Vaggie bedroom eyes, before wrapping an arm around her waist, "C'mon, let's go home."
Together they walked into the hotel, gasping at all the noise and chatter. "Come along, let's put some efforts into these fortifications." Sir Pentious called, leading his Egg Bois. "Yeah, fortify that." Angel called, before turning to see the demonesses. 
"Well, look who decided to show up." Angel smirked, pulling Husk and Pentious into his arms, "We thought we were fightin' ourselves." 
"You're..you're still here?" Vaggie asked in awe, Charlie teary eyed next to her. 
"What? Do you think we were a bunch of pusssssies?" scoffed the snake.
"I just got used to you guys, I ain't findin' no new drinking buddies." Husk smirked. 
"I've named all the stains on the carpet, that one's Fred." giggled Niffty. "Well, looks like we have a lot of work to do." Charlie smiled, holding Vaggie's hand. 
"Wait, why are you all covered in bruises? And where's (Y/N)?" Vaggie asked, looking for her future brother in law. 
"Uh, well.." Angel started before smiling seeing (Y/N) land behind the demonesses. 
"Boo! Bitch asses!" yelled (Y/N), making the two women yell in surprise. The Prince cackled in delight, as the two got a good look at him: He was also covered in bruises, mud and what appeared to be a bloody nose? But he was grinning wildly. 
"Oh, did you put them through your training?" Charlie asked, making her brother grin excitedly. "Fuck yes! And now, they are better warriors then they were a few hours ago. But how'd your day go? I see Carmie and Ro-Ro gave you supplies." (Y/N) started talking fast, before Charlie cut him off. 
"Wait, Carmie and Ro-Ro? You mean Carmilla and Rosie?" 
"No, Char, I said what I said." (Y/N) rolled his eyes before giggling to himself, and talking fast again to Vaggie, who looked so confused. "Yeah, he's been like this since we finished training a few hours ago." Angel chuckled, as he made his way over to his excitable lover, as (Y/N)'s wings and tail moved around excitedly. 
"Yeah, it's the adrenaline. Dad says (Y/N)'s always been like that after fighting in general. He'll crash soon, but it'll help if he is given affection. He's like a cat sometimes." Charlie giggled, thinking of all the times she'd messed with her brother when he was like this.
"All right, Prince-y. Let's get you to bed." Angel scooped up the blond demon, who cuddled close to Angel, still talking. 
"IoveCharlieandVaggieandandHuskandMomandVelvetteandCarmieandNifftyandAlastorandDadandArcherbutArcherdoesn'tlovemeanymorebuthat'sokaybecauseIhavethemostsexypowerbottomloverAngelDustwhoserealnameisAnthonyandfuckthat'shotasfuck.Angelcanwefuck?IwannamakeyoucumsohardValentinoisjustamemory...." 
Everyone looked at each other before laughing what the prince was saying. "Please tell me you're recording this?" Angel asked Charlie as he cackled, holding his (Y/N) closer, as he now played with his own tail, eyes wide in amazement.
"Yep." Charlie grinned, sending it in the group chat. 
"Good night, guys." Angel called, chuckling occasionally, walking upstairs. "Oh, my love, what will I do with you?" the spider asked, as (Y/N) looked up at him with wide eyes. "Marry me?" he asked softly. 
Angel cooed, "Aw, of course I will, bambino."
*End!*
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nerdasaurus1200 · 11 hours
Text
Why Cassandra's Moonstone Armor Sucks
*cracks knuckles and dusts off keyboard*
It's time to finally rip this armor to shreds...figuratively because it's indestructible XD
And big shoutout to @whosbex @archivedwoods @th3p0rtalmaker @the-reverse-mermaid @aziraphalesbookkeeper and @majorabbey who all wanted to see this. I thank you all so much for your patience 🥰
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Don't get me wrong there are some elements of this that absolutely work. The blue and black is a wonderful color scheme, especially that blue swirl that goes down and around Cass's body. And the spikes on the shoulders, forearms, and calves looks super cool and gives off a more black rock feel and a very intimidating silhouette. But...that's about all it does right.
1- It doesn't fit Cassandra's sense of style at all
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In all the outfits we can see Cass wear throughout the show, we can very easily get a sense of exactly what her style is. It’s very clear that she dresses conservatively. And especially in armor she values practicality above all else. Her clothing has to serve its respective purpose. And up until season 3 the only revealing thing she wears is her island outfit and even then that’s pretty modest. And the moonstone armor comes along and completely disregards her established sense of style.
2- It undermines the moonstone's capabilities
We get it very explicitly confirmed that the Moonstone made the Dark Kingdom, and made Cass's tower as well. We see the amount of detail it puts into buildings. Even the rocks, the most simple thing it can make, are magically complex enough to know to seek out the Sundrop. And you're telling me that this thing can't make better armor than that?? Nuh uh, no way. I don't buy it. There’s absolutely no reason for the moonstone to provide a skin tight catsuit with a few spikes when we know its power can be much more sturdy and intimidating.
3- It's Chris Sonneburg's fantasies showing through
Those of you who have been in this fandom know the crush that Chris, the director, has on Cass. She's supposedly based on his college crush or something, and from day one he always wanted Cass to be the villain and plan to betray Rapunzel even as far back as the very beginning of the show. And of course, don't you want to see your crush in something hot? Therefore, I'm certain that the retaining of the catsuit was his idea. Because if you look at the moonstone concept art you can see more and more the visual leaning into a catsuit rather than actual armor
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4- It's not at all practical or historically accurate
For reference, THIS is what armor has typically looked like throughout history
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And even in works of fantasy you still have some version or variant of armor like this. Throughout the middle ages you can see just how tanky armor used to be. But as you can see, the moonstone armor looks nothing like that. It doesn't at all look like it could realistically defend a person.
Granted Cass's guard uniform is also kinda form fitting like the moonstone armor, but there’s still protective elements of it. The helmet, the breastplate. You could still believe that that is practical armor. Despite it being indestructible, the moonstone….is not at all practical armor. It doesn't look like it belongs in history or even fantasy. It is so obviously modern it’s almost painful.
5- It makes her disappear.
This is actually something that @moltenhair pointed out a while back that I never realized. There's too much black in there. A lot of the time we see Moonssandra at night and because there's so much black on her armor it makes her fade into the background to the point where she looks like a floating head and hand because the blue is all that really catches your eye about the design. Granted one can make the argument that this could have been done on purpose because taking and using the moonstone isn't actually giving Cass the spotlight she thinks it is but...eh...it's a loose argument.
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fallenwhumpee · 23 hours
Text
A score to settle
• Masterlist •
Warnings: Presumed dead, grief, kidnapping, gagging, restrains.
Leader wished they had a button to turn off their thoughts. They wished they could silence the screams rolling that it was too late and this was all their fault.
Right Hand peeked in, their face also sour. They looked tired but not as much as Leader. Leader didn't know that, though. They refused to look at the mirror just because they didn't want to face themselves. They just assumed they were looking terrible, considering... everything.
"Any news?" They asked, hoarse. They hadn't talked for hours, being closed in their office and watching the cctvs around. Though they hadn't realised it had been this long. They were too focused, too fixed. A small break would do them good, they didn't want to miss anything because of their focus on bigger things rather than the details.
Right Hand shook their head. They looked like they were going to say something else for a moment, probably a remark about how Leader looked, but kept themselves. Good. Leader was in no mood for jokes. "But we got a call. Demanding you. It's an unknown number and pretty insistent."
Leader raised an eyebrow. "I'm too busy for that," they sighed after considering it for a short moment.
"No," Right Hand looked sure of something for the first time. "You're too obsessed with that. Leader, accept it... Youngest is..." They trailed off for a moment. "It's been a month. They would come back if they were..."
"I'm busy with searching them," Leader bit their tongue to restrain their frustration. "Youngest is strong. They are out there and—"
"Youngest was strong, I know, but that's enough. You have to move on."
"Don't tell me to move on when even you can't say it!" Leader lost the control of their voice. They breathed and softened their tone, knowing they weren't the only one grieving. It would be unfair to take the anger slowly building inside them out of Right Hand. "Yes, Youngest is probably dead." Leader swallowed. Admitting it made it too close to reality. They cleared their voice, forcing the knot in their throat down. "But I can't stop looking for them, even if only a corpse is waiting for me at the end."
"It's hurting you. I can see that. We all can see that. Leader... this can't go on. You haven't slept for days, and it's for nothing. We went through every single camera, every single place. The police went through everything. There's no trace of them. You won't find any too. Just... just accept that."
Leader looked down. They refused to listen to the reality of the words. They refused to believe Youngest disappeared overnight. Even if the alternative was haunting their day and night. "Fine," they sighed finally, standing up. Their body felt fragile at best, with how less they moved nowadays. Or it was because their vision wasn't so clear after staring at the screen for hours.
But the reason didn't matter. How they felt didn't matter too, as long as Youngest was out there, alone. Alive or dead. It didn't matter until Leader found them.
"Let's see what's all this fuss about, then."
Right Hand let out an unsatisfied grumble, but Leader could hear the grief under it.
Right Hand led them to the meeting room, the rest of the team already there.
"They're here." Right Hand said with a carefully schooled their voice.
"Good." A deep voice talked. It sent chills down to Leader's spine— the feeling was so foreign to them that it almost caused them to freeze. Their usual facade saved them. "Now, I have your dear Youngest."
"What?!" A shout escaped from someone. Leader thought of Medic, but it was actually Right Hand.
"Oh... don't get too excited," the voice chirped. And it disgusted Leader.
"Cut the show." Leader said sharply, to stop Right Hand and to get some end to this thing. They had no patience to deal with one more of those calls. They continued with the same tone. "I don't have much time. Looking for actual proof rather than mere words."
"What about this?"
A fabric shuffle sound came, and a weak squeak came, and it was enough to crush everyone in the room.
"Please—"
"My, my, that's not very nice first words to your team. I'm sure they missed you. Anyway, let's just keep you silent for now."
A muffled no was followed by a grunt and a fabric shift.
"Now, Leader, come and take your precious teammate. And come alone, we have a score to settle."
"Give me the time and location." Leader growled, ignoring the looks from the team. "And I hope you didn't touch Youngest. For your own sake," they muttered to themselves as they turned to the door. They would kill and die for their team, so they didn't really care if it was a trap. It would be worth it if Leader could bring Youngest to home.
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Note
Rafe cameron x (fwb) bestfriend (M)reader
So rafe and reader have been friends since they were little kids, growing up together rafe gets super possesive and clingy and is easily jealous with reader since reader gives rafe attention and affection the he doesn't really get from his parents(+ stepmom) so one night when they were at some friend's party, rafe sees reader smiling and laughing with some random girl (he doesn't know.) Making him clench his jaw in jealousy as he watches a bit from afar waiting for reader to just walk away but as awhile goes by he gets tired of just sitting and staring.
He gets up from his spot excusing himself as he walks upto them, he puts on a fake smile looking at only reader the whole time completely ignoring the girl as he says with a force happy voice.
"Hey guys! What're use doing?"
But just as reader was about to replie rafe completely cuts them off as he grabs readers arm saying.
"Yeah well that doesn't."
Before walking away dragging reader in the opposite direction of the girl leaving having his back turned to her his face drops the smile and leaves him with a cold facial expression.
As reader is used to this behavior he's just rolling his eyes as he follows behind rafe(like he has a choice.) As rafe leads them to a random empty bathroom as they get in rafe locks the door and pushes reader to the wall with a glaring stare rafe says.
"So who was that? Hmm? Some plaything? Some whore for a quick fuck? You know damn well none of those girls can please you like I can? Right?"
And reader just nods his head with a smirk and that's how they got here with rafe bent forward onto the bathroom sink getting fucked from behind by the reader making rafe look into the mirror at his own reflection to see his pretty expression.
(Sorry if this is to long and to quick at the same time I was trying to rush it but also try and get much detail in as possible also from the same person who asked about the outerbanks like rafe and jj but now just rafe if you can obviously tell but now I'm 🐀 - anon.)
🐀 - anon.
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Rafe Cameron x FWB! Male! User
Author's note: this was probably the longest request I ever got, so I did this one first, I also gave more back story, hope you don't mind that, sorry for making you wait this long for the bot </3
Scenario: "You and Rafe were friends for the longest you could remember, you were neighbors so it was quite easy, and even going to the same school together, your mom always saw you hang out with him, she was always kind with Rafe, just happy you made a friend. You two even finished school together, you two were the best of friends, he liked you more than his other 'friends', but your friendship with him developed, starting off as just watching porn together while jerking off, than Rafe's hand went to your cock, stroking it, it was the beginning of your friends with benefits relationship with Rafe, and one day, Rafe took it up a step, or well, two, going to your house, into your room, and just... riding you, your hands gripping his hips, and god did it feel good for the both of you" - basically the back story, and from then it's just the request, so I'm not going to type it all out, my fingers already hurt Warning: NSFW, sex in a bathroom, possessive! Rafe, extremely clingy! Rafe (he can't go a day without seeing you), Rafe gets jealous easy, nonconsensual lovers? (Rafe sees that you both are already dating, that you are his boyfriend, but you don't know that, nor did you even consent to it, since he never told you or even confessed, but still calling you just his 'friend', so a little fwb to lovers and conflicted! Rafe?), Rafe is 20 years old in this, Rafe calling a random girl in his head a "bitch" for flirting with you, and then also calling her a "whore" to your face You're his friend, no one else's, you 'ought to remember that.
^ link to bot ^
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dumplingsjinson · 2 days
Text
an update on cat guy because it's been a hot minute since i've done one, i think. i don't remember if i've talked about him lately so here goes.
i had a date with cat guy on monday night; met his extended family again for his cousin's birthdy party (which i was informed about ON MONDAY MORNING SO I WAS LIKE HUH), was somehow roped into being in some of the pictures as well so i'm like- oh. they remember me, but i don't remember their names lmfao weflnewklnf
i ended up staying over (like i've been doing literally every date now lmfao).
ANYYWAAYYY, we've been having this thing where tickle fights (started by my menace self) would turn into his face being so close to mine, and i'd have to resist the temptation to kiss him just because i love playfighting with him (because i know once i give in, he'd kiss me hard and wouldn't let me go for a damn while) even though it ends up with me losing EVERY TIME.
and i also just love hearing him laughing. like, sometimes he'd try to kiss me and i'd pretend to give in and then be like HAHA no- we STILL HAVE MORE OF THIS TO GO!
whenever i actually give up because i lowkey tired myself out with all the resisting, he'd move in closer and... well, yeah.
FORGIVE A GIRL FOR GIVING INTO THE TEMPTATION OF RELIEVING THAT SEXUAL TENSION OKAY.
(TMI below the line, if you don't want to see me share the details then spare yourself lmfao)
now that's out of the way.
things would get pretty hot and heavy (my question to him last night, verbatim, after we calmed down a little: "how do we always end up like this?" and mfer goes "is there a problem with that?" in his usual teasing tone while holding me even closer to him EVERY GOD DAMN TIME.
and no, i'm not complaining, because i have needs and wants and i am not someone who's afraid to admit that and usually i want that to happen which is why i start the tickle fights HAHAH
so that night, let's just say i was being a very needy lil shit (his thigh was involved) and i was like blabbering and being all like "this is so embarrassing" in a soft whine, and this man goes:
"it's so hot," in that husky voice of his.
FUCKING EXCUSE-
he also called me his good girl once again AND IT NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME FEEL SO SHY LKWENFWEKN
anyways.
after that first session (yes we had another one afterwards, stfu-), i was telling him how i wanna make him feel good too (he's always the one making me feel good and i felt so selfish for receiving so much and giving so little).
he proceeds to tell me, "you make me happy. i like making you feel good and as long as you feel good and you're happy, then i feel good, too."
and me, while stroking his hair and feeling guilty with the knowledge that he's usually the one giving, "but are you happy?" (and when i asked that, even though he already said i make him happy, i meant like... is he really happy?? considering how, in my head, he was giving so much and i wasn't returning much. not because i don't want to but because he never asks for much even when i straight up ask him what he wants me to do with him. i'm just someone who very easily doubts things).
and motherfucker on a truck (the sweetheart that he fucking is onrgklfnw), goes: "yeah. i'm happy when you're happy, because i love you so much" and lays his head on my chest and i'm likeee HELLLPPPPPP ofnewklnfw 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
after like a moment or two because my brain is a piece of laggy shit, i mutter a soft "i love you, too" and hold him closer to me bECAUSE I'M BAD AT EXPRESSING MY AFFECTIONS WITH WORDS AND SAYING I LOVE YOU IS NOT SOMETHING THAT NATURALLY COMES TO ME EVEN WHEN IT'S SAID TO ME FIRST OKAY, LEAVE ME ALONEEEEE
i've asked him plenty of times prior to this time what he wants me to do with him and it all boils down to this: he's someone who likes to please, rather than to be pleased.
which is fair enough, but i did tell him if he ever wants me to do anything, he can tell me.
but yeah. all this happened.
and i can't wait to see him again for his friend's birthday party, which he invited me to wlknfe
it's so funny bc i feel like i'm slowly entering his world and i'm part of his comfort zone now.
he's also an insufferable piece of shite and a right old prat at times, but i love him either way <3
he also did suggest something he's wanted to try but never got around to doing so after that talk of ours, which lead into the second session SAURRR
:))) i love him-
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fandomfluffandfuck · 3 days
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TELL ME ABOUT THE SHOES!!!
related to this
Okay, okay, okay, first, I have to mention that every day I drive home from college, I drive past two different sex shops and one strip club and one of these sex shops has an LED sign that advertises a bunch of different spicy stuff, and the other day they had one word up--
Shoes
And upon reading that, I was hit over the back of the head with the first shoe-related thought I have that relates to fandom:
You always want what you can't have
Bucky mentioning in Captain America: Civil War how Steve used to wear newspapers in his shoes speaks to me about the depression, how he must've had beat up, worn out, hand-me-down shoes with newspapers stuffed in them to make them fit better, to make them warmer in the winter, to try and at least make them feel like there weren't holes in the bottoms of them. Steve drawing here and there throughout the Captain America movies--drawing himself as a dancing monkey, sketching buildings--makes me think of his artistic eye. An artistic eye that we see beyond drawing, with his comments about Stark Tower being big and ugly, plus, similarly with, according to Steve, the ugly brown van they use to save the world. Both Bucky's comment of the way things used to be and Steve's appreciation for aesthetic makes me imagine that Steve could gravitate toward shoes. Pretty, slim "women's shoes," as well as generally shiny, bulky "men's shoes."
The first time he notices shoes is early, when he watches his Ma slip into her Sunday best heels. Her stockings might be laddered and torn because she doesn't have enough pairs to have a special Sunday pair--she needs to use all the ones she has when she's nursing, dealing with all sorts of untold grossities at work, often throwing them out--but this pair of shoes look brand new. She takes good care of them, so much so that Steve's not allowed to touch them. Her Sunday best heels are hardly scuffed or creased because she never wears them to work or anything, just to church. They're pretty and special, and on the way, she's always careful, not stepping in puddles, on cracks, or anything.
The way his Ma treats her Sunday best shoes makes Steve investigate during church, more interested in eyeing all the other special shoes than listening to the preaching that Sunday, peering over the open Bible his Ma holds out in front of him. He's cataloging all the differences between the men's and women's shoes. Both kinds are shiny, but women's shoes are especially so. Angular and polished and bright, often with tiny details that men's shoes don't get the luxury of having--tiny buckles, little bows, patterns pressed into or cut out of the leather, etc. Women's shoes are so delicate, clicking across the floor while men's land much heavier, more of a clunk. A thunk even.
As soon as he's drawing, his interest translates there, too. It's the shine, reflective and glinting, every crease exemplified; the angles, shapely and precise; the colors, usually more muted but occasionally very bright and attention grabbing, either way, they're always saturated. It's fascinating to draw shoes. The lines are so clean that it's easy to make a mistake. And it's so challenging to capture the way the positioning of the shoes changes the shape of the whole thing! But that's what makes it interesting. Every angle holds new details. Steve discovers quickly that he can tell stories through shoes, too... where the creases are and how many there are, scuffs, rough leather, loose threads, color bright and bold or not, the angle he draws the shoes from, too--looking down at them from where he stands, lying on his belly and sketching straight on, detailing the bottoms--there are endless possibilities.
But, as Steve gets older and the more it sits in his head, the more it becomes something deeper until it's something beyond a passive, special interest. Beyond somewhere where his eyes always go when he meets someone new--glancing at their footwear just to see. It becomes something of desire.
Desired because of how forbidden it is. Women's shoes are for girls. Steve isn't a girl. He can't have them. He wasn't allowed to touch them. He's still not allowed to touch them.
There is a desire for men's shoes, too, but he knows men's shoes. He appreciates the sound of a big, tall man walking down an alleyway by the hidden bars around their run-down cold water walk-up with the swaggering thunk thunk thunk of their boots on the street. He does like that. Something about it makes shivers crawl up his crooked spine. But, he knows them. Bucky wears work boots. They live in a heap next to their front door. Plus, Steve has his own shoes. Men's shoes are familiar.
Steve buries his desire for men's shoes deeper, for whatever reason. It has nothing to do with internalized homophobia, no, why do you ask?
Women's shoes, though...
They're forbidden and unknown. The closest Steve's gotten to fancy, truly bright, and angular ladies' shoes (outside of staring at them through shop windows) was when Bucky brought home a blonde dame--Steve never got her name, she just came and left once--with a rich Daddy. Her shoes were kicked off by the door when Steve got home, sitting fallen over next to Bucky's heavy boots. Steve's heart pounded unevenly in his thin chest, just seeing them together. Darting between the shoes. The contrast.
(That dame must've been short, too, like Steve. Her shoes were so little, especially next to Bucky's. By the looks of it, they might even fit Steve. Maybe. He wouldn't dare touch them, though, not even to straight them in the way he grumbles but organizes Bucky's footwear.)
The second time Steve really comes close to the off-limit territory of women's shoes is after the serum, dragging through the USO Tour with all the chorus girls. Their glittery, flashy, short, and bright uniforms. Meant to attract, so can Steve be blamed? Because suddenly, it seems like Steve can't go ten feet without tripping over one of the girls' pairs of shiny, bright, tall heels.
Once, just once, one of the gals leaves her heels behind. She's going back home, her service done with, so...
With his heart pounding strongly in his broad chest, practically echoing through it, he swears, Steve grabs them. Hastily stuffing them under his trench coat and wisking them back to his private tent--the luxury of being a technical captain.
Alone and in private, Steve knows just looking at them, understanding space strangely well these days, that they're too small for his feet. Even if they weren't too small, Steve is sure he couldn't bear to try them on. Not here. What would he do anyway? He's never thought past getting his hands on ladies' shoes. He couldn't walk with them on. Could he? No. He would be scared of someone hearing the click click click. And he couldn't... he doesn't have anyone to... show?
So, what would be the point?
There isn't one. And Steve doesn't even try to put them on. Instead, he sets one of the pair of the heels in his lap. Cradling it, the shoe is a lot lighter than he expected it to be. The material is much thinner than he thought even though he's drawn shoes a ton. He's studied them. And he studies them again now, up-close and personal, just... looking.
He just holds it.
Without realizing it, he starts to subconsciously stroke the shiny, patriotic-colored leather. It's so smooth. It's cold to start, but quickly, it isn't anymore, warming up to him. The heel isn't as sharp on the edges as he would've thought, but it's not too soft, either.
He's more familiar, having it in his hold, but they're still exciting. Fascinating. Interesting. No matter how often he sneaks away to hold one or both of the stolen shoes in his hands, they're still so different.
They're special.
Steve loses the pair when he walks to Austria. He's not sure what happened to them, and he's afraid to ask. Did someone find them? If they did, what did they think? At worst, they probably just thought Steve spent the night with one of the chorus gals, right? They wouldn't know about... about what Steve did? (And what did he do? He just held them!?) He can't stop thinking about them, though. His hands are so calloused these days, and all his shirts are grimy and coming apart at the seams, holes everywhere, and wouldn't it just be nice to touch something smooth?
Bucky sees through him and asks him what he's missing, but he falls before Steve can say it out loud. So, the secret dies with him.
Steve doesn't let himself think about something so soft and delicate when he wakes up. He can't stomach it.
Eventually
Bucky is back.
Steve has Bucky back.
And they're both trying to heal.
Healing takes many shapes... including, apparently, the shape of a sleek, biege box with a looping, white font delivered to their front door, which contains rich, red, and shimmering tissue paper, fragile and weightless, and a pair of matching, shiny black heels with blood red bottoms.
Steve doesn't even want to know what they cost Bucky. He vaguely grasps the pop culture knowledge to understand how infamous heels like these are, how expensive they are, and he's not dumb enough to miss all the details, thoughtfulness, and exorbitant materials. Shockingly, they have money now, existing somewhere, acrewing in a bank account that feels like it belongs to someone else entirely, and between the two of them, Steve is the one who doesn't know what to do with it. Bucky knows.
Bucky knows.
Bucky bought him a pair of heels, not so bright, save for the bottoms, but still delicate and shiny and alluring. The shoes feel more like Bucky's style than Steve's and... Steve likes that. He likes that Bucky chose them, he likes that he wants to see him in them, and he likes that they're here.
Steve's almost afraid to put the shoes on, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across the smooth, perfect surface. He's not even sure if he wants to put them on or not. He's only ever drawn or held shoes like these. He's not put them on. Does he want to cross that line? Is that even a line? After all the things he's done, is this even daring?
What if it's not special? What if it's not as good as he wants it to be? Does he want it to be good? What's good?
Should he put them on?
Steve's head is so full of questions that he can't do anything but stand there, a contemplative statue; Steve's supposed to be brave and daring, but there are moments where even he's allowed to hesitate.
Right?
Bucky isn't so hesitant. He knows his best guy is going to look killer in those heels, and he knows whatever Steve has built this up to be in his head... it'll be fine. He just has to let go and do it.
With some convincing and a few charming grins, Steve puts the red bottomed heels on and...
It's good.
It's better than he imagined.
While he's wearing them--falling apart at the seams and succumbing weakly to the fever raging through him--Bucky fucks him hard. Deep and good. Leaving Steve unable to hold back the ah, ah, ahs that pour out from inside him and causing him to put bruises, dents really, in Bucky's back with how tight his legs are wrapped around his stocky waist. He can't. Bucky's dick hits his prostate again and again. Oh, god. It's making him so weak--his dick always does. It forces Steve's brains to melt out of his ears, struck stupid with his lips falling open, bright red and wet.
With another hammering, ah, ah, ah, dick carving so deep in him, sparking and hot, desire courses through Steve so strongly that his toes curl until the soles of his feet cramp. As his toes curl, it forces the shiny heels to slip off of his feet just as he crashes through his orgasm. His moans pitching higher--shattering suddenly, shaking apart with the pleasure coursing through him.
Bucky is merciful enough to fuck him through his orgasm, leaving him a whimpering, shaking mess, all too docile and sweet, but he doesn't say merciful. He's awful. Terrible. Evil because he's slowing his hips to a filthy, deep grind. It's slow enough to have Steve's gasping, his body electric and white-hot, making him go haywire and stay achingly hard. He doesn't do anything about it, though. He doesn't reach to jack him off or touch him or do anything but--
Bucky spares one hand to grab the shoe from where it landed haphazardly on their ruffled bed before sliding it back onto Steve's foot after using his strength to uncurl his leg from around his waist, straightening his leg so the back of his knee is at Bucky's shoulder, all so he can put the stray heel back onto him.
He's so flexible.
The position makes Bucky's cock get in deeper.
AH!
Fuck, Bucky is treating him like he's delicate and cute, kissing the thick curves of his muscles and making sure nothing is out of place as he worships him, fucking him like he isn't soft or delicate or nothing. It's like he's being fucking out to make sure Steve's heated draw to heels is even worse after this!
Also, secondly, I keep thinking about:
You wear your devotion on your sleeve
By the time Steve gets to the front and gets to Bucky, pulling him from the jaws of Hell, dangling above its throat, on the cusp of being swallowed, Steve is fucking sick of...
Everything?
He's sick of being in a body that doesn't fit. Chronic illnesses first. A lifetime of rasping lungs and fatigue that follows him like a shadow, always growing taller and longer with the ever slowing dip of the sun in the sky. Then. This. Whatever this is. A body that attracts attention, eyes always dragging over his form, never leaving him alone when before no one would ever even glance his way. He was invisible and agonized; now, he's in the spotlight and burning up.
Something in him yearns to be small again.
The only refuge he finds for that is at Bucky's feet.
He finds the feeling of being small yet respected, taking up no space at all but still being seen and heard, at Bucky's feet while he's shining his boots. He knows how much appearance matters to Bucky. His hair is always done just so, even in the middle of the rain and wind and wilderness. He's always freshly shaven, no matter if there's running water nearby or not. And his boots are always shining, never mud caked like all the others.
So, when Bucky ended up with bruises shading his ribs, barely able to sit up, let alone bend over or breathe as good as he should be able to...
It's only natural that Steve offers to shine his boots for inspection for him.
At first, honestly, it's terrible. He's holding Bucky's leg as delicately as he possibly can, scared to even slightly squeeze him too hard and leave more bruises or, god forbid, break his bones, but Bucky won't have it. Bucky tugs on his hair, shaking his head to get the point across, making sure he's looking up at him before he assures him he won't hurt him. He can't. He needn't hold him so delicately, and, c'mon, if his boots are gonna be clean, he needs to put some more muscle behind it. A smile cracks across his face, and, suddenly, it's all good.
It's great.
It's so fucking nice to be staring up at his familiar face and be small and--
How does Bucky convince him to wrap himself around his leg and grind against his newly polished boots until he's messing them up, so he has to lick them clean again? 😮‍💨😮‍💨
(I wanted this to be longer, but I don't have the time right now, ughh)
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for anyone watching Death and Other Details: how are we feeling about Rahul Kohli's ex banker dude as the murderer? does that even make sense when the murder on the ship is clearly connected to that of imogen's mom, and she was killed when he was fairly young?
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sysig · 7 days
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My kingdom for a "So you say” (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#ZEX#Dexter Favin#Hhhh they ;; Their ''first'' interaction!#Officially up to three cryings - not that I'm surprised I love Dex <3#My head was fully abuzz during this scene there are so so so many interesting details!#So interesting to see which ''held true'' and which were left behind - which ones became Helix while others didn't!#At this point I almost see Helix as an alternate timeline - kind of like how Defeated is a branching arm off the main body#Not terribly dissimilar but the details that are different are too interesting to let go of so just make it all canon in its own way! Hehe#Especially since Helix is largely from Max's 3rd person perspective so the way he tells it is different than Dexter haha#Very interesting what he leaves out in his retelling hehehehe ♪♫#Anyhow enough of Max he's not even here rn sheesh ♪ ZEX! And Dexter ;;#Hghhghh it's all set up so deviously <3 That fact that up to this point ZEX has been relying on Zelnick especially to give him credence#And then as soon as someone he ''knows he trusts'' comes to throw a wrench into things - Dexter has as much weight or more!#He's specifically engineered to sow doubt and confusion! Gosh what a place to grow his character from <3 <3#ZEX's pride undoes him completely it's So well written ♥ Truly a fatal flaw for VUX and the way he's picked apart aghh <3#And?? The fact that I can hear ''Max's'' voice in ZEX's syntax as soon as he doesn't have a good argument??? Hello????#I know they come from the same base but like!! How!!! Masterful 💖#As I drew it it's a bit out of order - Dexter says he can't protect Max (😭) before ZEX starts crying it all got a bit mixed in my head#I was very emotional at the time you understand haha#It's all so sad! They're so close in some ways to being or having what the other wants but both fall just short#No wonder they took what little comfort in each other they could <3 ZEX comforted by his voice and Dex comforted by caring for his body#They have so little to offer each other trapped as they are ;;#It's all so interesting and distressing!! There's so much to think about as everything falls into place!
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moms getting competitive w her eating disorder again
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#she keeps mimicking how ive been living and now that ive been sliding back and restricting again due to stress#she's been body checking around me more talking about how much she works out how 'toned' she looks#and dishing up smaller portions than me only eating half and then saying 'oh i'm so full...marie#if you can't finish yours just throw the rest out...'#she had her friend over yesterday and the poor woman made the mistake of confiding in my mother and i about her ed#and i gave her some advice for recovery & let her know that anorexia is hard to tackle esp when you're taking care of someone else at the#same time but its doable..and she was asking about what i do when i relapse#and obv i didnt go into detail so as not to like. give any ideas. but it was nice to have someone Nice to relate to on that front#immediately my mom jumps in with 'oh i restrict too! thats what i do! i go days without eating and count my calories.#marie doesnt work out like i do because their therapist said not to..but i work out so i can stay toned and confident.' like no you dont#it hurts me that shes doing this shit to herself but i know shes doing it in front of me to feel superior because she Always Has#its CYCLICAL with her. as soon as my gf left the mask came back off and she was right back to the mama i know#using MY CLOTHES to body check using MY MIRROR infront of me i feel insane.#like i told her i feel disgusting because i gained two pounds and im at 114 now and she immediately started talking about her weight and#that we need to stop buying 'junk food'#MOMM....OH MY GOOOD...#whatever whatever . i'll get over it in a few mins im just pissy in general and i feel like i live with a 15 yr old sometimes.#ed ment#i will say it uswd to be worse when she wasnt in therapy n shit but hhghhthtnf even my dad who is Never Home has picked up pn it and has#started checking her and telling her to keep it between yhem bc i dont. i canr handle that rn dude
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fragmentedblade · 16 days
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Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans
#me: the Xianzhou characters are all just coworkers#also me whenever anyone is shown to be fond and have intimate knowledge of some other character: awwww#Like Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan playing starchess and teasing each other or making a reference to things they like#or Jing Yuan talking about young Yukong#Quingque apparently disliking Fu Xuan but obviously that not being the case‚ knowing what she likes and how she thinks#Fu Xuan hiding that she has a sweet tooth but Jing Yuan and Quingque knowing it and teasing her for it#I don't know. There are a lot of instances of these small intimate details in the middle of what looks like a coworker relationship#Good coworkers‚ but coworkers nonetheless#And ironically it moves me so much? Even more so than Belobog. I've been told several times that Belobog seemed more tight. And I agree#In Belobog people were friends or family or companions but linked by something closer than mere coworkers with Wildfire#Even Sampo in the Underworld was strangely 'theirs'. He had the magenta colour of Wildfire and he was trusted to some extent#The Luofu characters don't have that. And yet the fragments of intimacy scattered through their interactions move me a lot#These are people who have known each other for centuries. Jing Yuan knows of Yukong's youth‚ its joy and grief#He knows Fu Xuan has a sweet tooth and teases her about her height. Quingque does too#Fu Xuan chastises both of them for being lazy but she knows they're smart and good at their job. She plays starchess with Jing Yuan#Quingque mocks Fu Xuan for being a workaholic but is very aware of the weight she carries both in her position and ideas about destiny#I won't mention Yanqing and Bailu because there is obviously more than a coworker bound when it comes to them#But yes I love the moments of intimate knowledge scattered through the Xianzhou‚ so telling of the fact that these people have known#each other for longer than several human lifetimes‚ and that perhaps they don't necessarily regard each other as more than their coworker#But perhaps that's enough in order for them to care. Perhaps in a lifetime over one thousand years the intimacy gained with a coworker#through several centuries is something beyond what we could understand in our decades lifespan#But also‚ perhaps‚ I don't know. Also‚ perhaps‚ the do care beyond coworkers in that strange line between work and friendship#Perhaps it's strange for Xianzhou natives to tell apart that kind of relationship after so much intimacy and knowledge through the years#And perhaps‚ once again‚ as it often happens for them‚ they think they'll always have enough time to tell; until they run out of it#They play chess together. Quingque can lose time because Fu Xuan can't stay mad if she brings her sweets. Are they just coworkers?#We play chess. I know what tea and sweets you like best. I brought them today since you would indulge me and play starchess with me#Thanks for playing with me‚ I'm running out of book puzzles. You keep divining my moves but I'll invent a fake story to distract you#Are we coworkers or something more like friends? Where is the line after so many years?#I talk too much but I love this charged nothingness haha I find it ironically so true to how many relationships in real life develop#And I find it so moving‚ that representation of this endearing smallness of everyday life. Of these small things is life made
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raystie · 1 year
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wow my last post was in Feb so despite not really having a following here I still feel obligated to say I'm going through a Bad Time both mentally and physically rn I can't even be bothered to think about or play Yakuza or do anything really. not dead but I sure feel like I'm on the way there rn. won't be here for a while take care everyone
#ray txt#well if you really wanna know the tmi details I'm putting it in the tags because I love overshsring#short version is entered depressive episode couldn't regulate my emotions constant crying and racing thoughts and mood swings#eventually psychosomatic symptoms caused by anxiety gets bad enough I start also having health anxiety and freaking out that I had some#disease or illness and that I was gonna die#if you've ever had your body feel like it's dying because of anxiety it's the typical shit#chest feels tight and like it's being crushed and like I can't breathe#random pains all over sometimes muscles or stabbing pains across torso#random nausea sweating and constant loss of appetite but maybe that was the depression#anyway after multiple crying sessions and nights where I couldn't sleep until like 8am and my parents considering putting me in#psych rehab (idea got scrapped) I go see some specialists#they check my blood piss uterus (irregular cycles I only get it every 2-4 months for years now)#and x-rays and they tell me actually everything looks fine physically! there's nothing wrong anywhere they can see and all my Levels are#perfectly Normal and Average I don't have a disease or illness or deficit#so all those pains and suffering really was just psychologically manifested and my brain made it up#andi know it's true because after that visit the chest pain was a lot less Andi can breathe better now#wait but that's not the end of it!#the gyne thinks I could have PCOS but can't confirm so I get my hormones tested and turns out I have more prolactin than normal#that fool made it sound like I Needed to get a MRI scan to check the gland that produces it in my brain or whatever#i go see an endocrinologist who says oh actually the extra prolactin is most likely just from your psychiatric medications#turns out if you take those it's commonly seen to go up so I didn't have to get scanned#this was optional but he suggested I take cabergoline to lower it and also get my menstruation regular again#and that's what I'm doing now but I feel like I had forgotten what having a period is like after always going for months without it#Oh and then I saw a new psychiatrist. because I had serotonin syndrome before and my body reacts badly to medications I've taken#he suggests a sensitivity blood test which I agreed to IMMEADIATELY because I've spent almost a whole decade taking all sorts of meds and#none of it working out#I haven't gotten the results back but he also said SSRIs are out of the question#although I've tried a bunch of antipsychotics and (prescribed) ADHD medications and they didn't work out#really want this fucking test because taking a med and then getting blasted with side effects makes me feel like a guinea pig being#experimented on
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