#and Dunk just accepts it lol

[scrumptiousstuffs]

JoongDunk being……JoongDunk 😂😂😂 (part 1)

GMMLV x The Heart Killers

08/08/2024

[pigglepiephi]

This is the most straight boy comment ever 🙄

Star’s firmly rejected him telling him she only sees him as a friend, but his response is to ignore that and decide to ‘wear her down’ until she gives in!

Boy, please just move on!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

more info, via a couple of reviews:

"Is this the best, most exhilarating, most close-to-perpetual dancing ever to grace the Goodspeed Opera House stage?

It certainly could be.

The new stage adaptation of “Summer Stock” at the East Haddam theater has plenty to recommend it in terms of the canny script and the hummable songs. But it’s the dancing that leaves the biggest impression.

The show is jam-packed with choreography from Donna Feore, who also directs, that is thrillingly executed by the cast.

We’re talking: Gravity-defying kicks. Head-spinning turns. Male dancers lifting and tossing and catching the female ones. It runs the gamut from Cossack-dance athleticism to soft shoe grace, tap precision to Lindy hop energy.

How the cast manages to sing after executing these (literally) breathtaking numbers, I have no idea.

And how do they make it through two performances on some days? Amazing.

Also amazing: the fact that they do all this on Goodspeed’s small stage without making the space feel cramped.

So, yes, the dancing is phenomenal. But there’s more to the show than that.

This stage version of “Summer Stock” — which is enjoying its world premiere at Goodspeed — is inspired by the 1950 MGM movie starring Judy Garland and Gene Kelly. Writer Cheri Steinkellner, though, has reimagined the piece in many ways, making it better, stronger and propelled by a more modern sensibility. (Steinkellner’s writing credits range from “Cheers” to the Broadway adaptation of “Sister Act.”)

The foundational story, though, remains the same: A no-nonsense young woman named Jane is trying to save her family farm. Her actress sister (named Gloria in the version at Goodspeed) brings her compatriots to the farm to rehearse a show. Jane first spars with and then starts falling for Gloria’s beau Joe, the production’s director.

Steinkellner has also changed up the score, to great effect. While some tunes from the movie remain, she has pulled others that are in the public domain (such as “Accentuate the Positive,” “Paper Moon” and “It Had to Be You”), and she has woven them perfectly into various plot points and important emotional moments.

As director, Feore makes sure the whole enterprise has a dynamic spirit. It’s a story and a production that brims with optimism and cheerfulness.

Leading the cast is Corbin Bleu, who became famous with his work in “High School Musical” and has gone on to star in several Broadway shows, as Joe. Bleu is a true, and truly talented, triple-threat. He has a warm, welcoming presence as an actor; he also brings an authority to Joe so you believe he’s someone the actors respect and will follow. Bleu’s singing is strong and lustrous, and his dancing — particularly his tremendous tap ability — is … wow.

Arguably the biggest scene-stealer here is Veanne Cox, as the wealthy, snooty owner of huge property surrounding Jane’s. The way she trills dialogue can turn anything into a punchline. She can wave her arms about as her character repeats “l’amour” and generate audience laughs. When her character falls for the egoistic actor Montgomery Leach (played by J. Anthony Crane with Barrymore flair), Cox burbles with girlish romantic giddiness.

Danielle Wade does her own take on the Judy Garland role. She gives Jane a swagger and a tough façade that reveals a more human self during the course of the story. Wade’s most important feature is her voice, which is potent whether she’s finessing a ballad or powering through a big number. While she can’t compete with Garland’s renowned version of “Get Happy” (who could?), Wade does a good job in the number — choreographed and costumed in an homage to the original — that serves as the culmination of the production.

Arianna Rosario gets to play an interesting arc at Gloria. At first, Gloria seems to be a blithe, self-centered actress, but she later shows that she is quite the problem-solving producer. Rosario makes the transformation believable, as if Gloria is finally letting her real self come through.

The scenic design by Wilson Chin suggests the various elements of a Connecticut River Valley farm in the 1950s while still allowing room for the cast to burst into all of those big dance numbers. And the costume design by Tina McCartney provides a fun and functional take on country clothing of the era.

I will say that the second act could be tightened up (we don’t need to see so many beats of the rehearsal process), but, in total, this “Summer Stock” is sensational." [source]

(hooray for most directly explaining gloria's overall arc)

and the next review:

"A throwback to the golden age of Broadway and movie musicals, "Summer Stock" is a timeless, inspiring song-and-dance tale of good deeds, fairy tale showbiz, classic romance and backstage intrigue played out to such dazzling effect, you want to freeze frame it, take it home with you and watch it over and over again for pure fun and a let's-put-a-smile-on-your-face endorsement. This is Goodspeed Musicals at its best - old-fashioned musical entertainment designed to deliver by the bucket's load, stir the senses, rhythmically intoxicate you and dance up a continual storm of good cheer that's guaranteed to leave you breathless.

Animated. Airborne. Magical. Sweet-natured. Fresh-faced. Dance happy. It's all here, wrapped up in shiny gold ribbons and signature colors that complement and complete the picture with a technicolor flourish, a big bang and an internal logic that flows with appropriate style, stamina, full command and intent.

Adapted to the stage by Cheri Steinkellner, "Summer Stock" replays that popular let's- put-on-a-show conceit where everything rests of the big opening night, the box-office intake, the big kiss between the leading man and the leading lady and how a complete unknown saves the day right before the final fadeout. Here, struggling Connecticut farmer Jane Falbury decides to let her actress sister Abigail and her actor friends from New York use the family barn as a rehearsal space for their brand-new Broadway bound musical in exchange for doing the daily farm chores to raise enough money to keep the business from going completely under. One slight problem. During rehearsals, Jane finds herself falling for the show's handsome director, Joe Ross, who, happens to be engaged to the show's leading lady - her sister Abigail.

Staging "Summer Stock," director Donna Feore ("Chicago," "Billy Elliot," "A Chorus Line"), who doubles as choreographer, creates a loveable, intoxicating show that reels you in, grabs hold of you until the final curtain and lets you fall in love with every little detail, surprise, plot twist, joke, visual gag, one-liner and tilt of her jolly agenda while she articulates every element of this musical story with thrust, warmth, spin and splendid articulation. Directorially, she pulls it off spectacularly. No wrong moves here as "Summer Stock" catches fire with a spark, a gusto, a shine and a 1950s mentality infused with plenty of imagination, originality, style and flair.  More importantly, the production never loses sight of its origins, its functional plotting and its love of musicals of yesteryear despite well-intentioned doses of kitsch, takeaway humor, giddy backchat and story arcs right out of the MGM library of backlot moviemaking.  Feore, free spirit that she is, fuels the musical with a sharpened wit and sentiment that works especially well as does her decision to let "Summer Stock" remain rooted in the period from whence it came in terms of staging, development, expression and interaction. 

Moving from screen to stage," "Summer Stock" retains only four songs from the 1950 MGM musical. The addition of several new songs to the original version of the score turns the two-act musical into more of a showstopping event and adds clarity, luster and vintage spin to its already proven material, its let's launch into another song and dance routine blueprint and its firm grasp on characterization, story evolution and its happily ever after conclusion. At Goodspeed, there are 28 important, recognizable, smartly placed musical numbers. They are:  "Get Happy," "Happy Days Are Here Again/I Want to Be Happy," "Accentuate the Positive," "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows," "Always," "Always (reprise)," "It's Only a Paper Moon," "The Best Things in Life Are Free," "Dig for Your Dinner," "Me and My Shadow," "Howdy Neighbor, Happy Harvest," "Red Hot Mama," " 'Til We Meet Again," "You Wonderful You," "June Night," "Some of These Days," "Joe's Dance," "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows (reprise)," "It All Depends on You," "Always (reprise)," "Everybody Step," "Lucky Day," "How Ya Gonna Keep 'Em Down on the Farm," "Hinky-Dinky Parlez Vouz," "It Had to Be You," "Get Happy (reprise)" and "You Wonderful You (Finale)."

Musical director Adam Souza ("42nd Street," "Cabaret," "Next to Normal," "A Grand Night for Singing," "Because of Winn Dixie," "Rags") grabs hold of the "Summer Stock" score and allows it to breathe, gesticulate, excite, envelop and rhapsodize with the golden age sentimentality of MGM movie musicals and the timeless, larger-than-life spirit of old Broadway. Here, every song matters. Every song is important. Every song travels down memory lane. Every song is tuned to the max with sweet, centered, warm-heartedness. Every song fulfills its intended purpose. All of this is complemented by the strong, flavorful sound of Souza's orchestral team, all of whom share his tremendous sense of theatricality, musical interlude, impassioned communication and delight of the actual musical itself.  They are: David Uhl (bass), Sal Ranniello (percussion), Liz Baker Smith (reed 1), Andrew Studenski (reed II), Travis Higgins III (trumpet) and Matthew Russo (trombone). As with other Goodspeed musicals, Souza doubles as conductor and keyboardist. As "Summer Stock" zings and pops, pretty music every song unfolds with a contagious orchestral musical glow, matched by the splendid musicality of the entire cast who address the catchy, homespun music and lyrics with perfect harmony, rhythm, phrasing and nostalgic commitment. These elements heighten the on-stage mode of the production, its progression from Act I to Act II, its send offs, its pastiche and its electrifying, barn-raising influence and thwack.

As with any big stage musical, choreography is key to a production's success, its fluidity of form, its artistic expression and its accompanying dance routines. Here, Feore, as choreographer, gives "Summer Stock" a highly personal touch of invigoration and speedy excitement that is tipped and generated with wonderfully elongated inspiration, stamina and determination. This is star quality choreography that peaks, shines and tilts with clever build ups, catchy dance steps and bold, concentrated rhythms, moves and beats that joyfully celebrate 1950's musicals in all their technicolor glory.   As storyteller and dance interpreter, she brings great dimension and scope to the piece using techniques, styles, descriptions and an enriched canvas of thoughts and ideas that make their mark most engagingly. Everything that happens on the Goodspeed Musicals stage has been beautifully blocked, rehearsed and staged with such thrust and individuality, no two dance numbers are alike. In fact, once "Summer Stock" catches fire, there's no stopping it.  Creating a freshly minted fusion of moods, tableaus, lifts, twirls and swirls, Feore pays homage to the actual vintage look and mindset of the musical, its dance-friendly art form and its free-flowing feel of excitement and exhilaration. Hands pop. Arms move heavenward. Dancers smile and glisten as they passionately ignite into joyful visions of sweetness, passion, frenzy and syncopation. Everyone is lost in the moment illustrating the traditions, the conscience and the power of musical theatre, giving and getting the most out of Feore's phenomenal, ovation-worthy choreography. Trained, drilled and confident, they each get a chance to shine - and shine they do - all making strong impressions that will live long in memory.

Making his Goodspeed Musicals debut, Corbin Bleu, as Joe Ross, a character originated by Gene Kelly in the 1950 film version, creates a "Wow!" song-and-dance-man factor chock full of charm, personality, self-confidence and full-beam, champagne delightness that astounds, cajoles and sparkles with leading man gait and luxury like no other. No matter what he does, he's a proverbial triple-threat (i.e., a player who excels at acting, singing and dancing) who makes everything that happens on stage feel fresh, spontaneous, real, raw and very much in the moment. It's in his eyes. It's in his moves. It's in his expressions. Exhibiting a sweet, contagious rapport that extends far beyond the footlights, it's the performance of the year and one that Bleu exudes with a Gene Kelly/Fred Astaire aura of showbiz savvy, knockabout whimsy, graceful athleticism and sterling encapsulation. "Joe's Dance," a solo dance number in Act II performed by Bleu only furthers that notion.

In the role of Jane Falbury, a role made famous by Judy Garland in the original "Summer Stock" MGM musical, Danielle Wade lights up the Goodspeed Musicals stage with a breezy, intuitive musical comedy performance of real warmth and spirit that is a constant joy to watch. Veanne Cox, cast in the role of the wickedly devious Connecticut farming magnate Margaret Wingate, is jaw-dropping brilliant, using humor, music, dance and melodrama in divinely daft and glorious ways that prompt applause and laughter whenever she's in the limelight. It's a scene-stealing performance so seamlessly entrenched in glee and fiery abandon, Cox, would be the ideal choice to play narcissistic Broadway diva Dee Dee Allen in the 2024 summer presentation of "The Prom" at Playhouse in Park in West Hartford. I'll personally deliver the contract. Other memorable performances are delivered by Arianna Rosario (Gloria Falbury), Stephen Lee Anderson (Henry "Pop" Falbury), Gilbert L. Bailey II (Phil Filmore), Will Roland (Orville Wingate) and J. Anthony Crane (Montgomery Leach). A musical escape brimming with delightful songs, engaging performances and full-beam dance numbers, "Summer Stock" is not only a bubbly tonic for theatergoers of all ages, but one that kicks nostalgia into high gear with uncomplicated bliss, fizz and vintage sparkle. It sings. It dances. It pops. It dazzles. Like "42nd Street" which played Goodspeed Musicals last season, it overflows with Kelly/Astaire lightness, punch and precision, sunny vibes and well-played exactitude. The energy displayed here is fast and furious with first-night exhilaration and thrill paired especially well with Corbin Bleu's charming star turn, Danielle Wade's joyous "Get Happy" abandon and Veanne Cox's well-prepped, icy cool villain. This is musical theatre of the highest order - infectious, irresistible, glorious. Its leave-your-troubles-at-the-door/Let's-put-on-a-show mentality accelerates with sparkle and cherry pie goodness. And boy, do we need it now!" [source]

(the reference to jane's sister abigail uses the film's names: abigail becomes gloria in this production, which is the name of abigail's actor in the film, which also mirrors how the role of herb is now phil, also the name of herb's actor in the film)

(also shoutout to providing A Full, Chronological List Of Songs. noting that according to another interview, intermission would be between "you wonderful you" and "june night")

[occamstfs]

Actually, They're Called Tetrominoes

Been holding out on some kinda Video Game trigger, here's a bit of an odd Russian cultural/racial TF, enjoy! -Occam

Michael could stand to be a more pleasant person. Day to day he is a pretty run of the mill head-down kinda guy, amicable but never really goes out his way to chat or make friends. Instead he finds his free time often used to prowl the internet looking for people to torment online in whatever way he finds funny at the moment. Born too late to be a goon on SomethingAwful he typically pages through Reddit threads and communities looking for someone sensitive or cartoonishly argumentative.

This is precisely where he finds himself tonight, being a pedant on some video game thread that he doesn’t truly care about. Some presumably Russian user, u/ZandrIvnov, seems to be quite proud of Tetris which Michael finds incredibly amusing. As an American he too takes pride in many of the cultural exports and ideas that his nation has sent into the world, including many of the deeply entrenched ideas about the Russian and Soviet people taught in world history. It takes especially little for him to decide to start taunting and baiting this man sitting at his keyboard a world away.

Michael launches petty taunts at the Russian, poking fun at his nationality and Eastern Europe at large, stopping short at making fun of the man’s less than perfect English, for now at least. Michael switches between accounts to upvote his responses and even add additional dunks on the Tetris-fan as needed. Try as he might though to get the conversation away from the ancient game and get some more personal and profane digs in there he finds it difficult to find any truly satisfying or clever insults.

Getting tired of hearing this man assert Russian superiority he prepares to pull the ripcord and move on before he sees the Russian misstep talking about the game he’s so invested in, as probably the only fun fact he has on deck comes to mind. After the Russian so eloquently compares Michael’s head to a Tetris piece Michael immediately replies, “okay lol big fan huh they’re actually called tetrominoes” and then moves on to find some other doofus to bully on the internet.

On the other side of the screen Sasha seethes at the man, so juvenile in his mockery “Проклятые американцы. (Fucking Americans.)” He takes to his own keyboard messaging Michael directly as his arrogant messages dry up in the thread proper, Sasha was going to have him put his money where his mouth was. He offers a challenge, “u americans are so proud da? how about we see whos country rly is the best”

Michael felt his pulse rise in excitement at how much he has truly bothered this man. Smug smile on his face as he types his response, “what did u have in mind, Zander?”

“Саша(Sasha) is my name. since u are so smart about tetris, why not see who is actual master of game da?” Sasha offers, knowing already that the troll is sure to accept out of pride alone. Michael wasn’t all that much of a gamer but surely he could show this dweeb what’s what yeah? He starts looking up tips to win Tetris as he replies “sure whatever dude, what are u thinkin”

Sasha smirks as he has Michael right where he wants him, “loser agrees with winner about national superiority? should not be problem if you americans are so good at every thing” Michael was already eager to give it a go and Sasha’s taunt only makes him all the more raring to go. Before he can even pause his meager attempt to study strategy, Sasha sends over a link to the game and Michael clicks over to play, leaving the cheat sheet open on a second monitor. 

Michael types his name into the game and finds himself looking at a familiar screen. He’s never played the game competitively but it’s a pretty simple game right? He just needs to keep his cool once the pieces start flying in. He gets the cheeky idea to check the cheat sheet in between pieces. That’s that good-old red white and blue ingenuity, Michael thinks. Unaware that these are of course also of the Russian flag. There’s a ping from the board as Sasha uses the in game chat to ask “u understand the rules da”

Michael sends back a thumbs up and Sasha sets the game going. It is predictably uneventful at the beginning, neither man making any particularly interesting plays. Michael continues to skim how to best cheat the game while Sasha waits for the perfect moment to fuck him over. Michael finds himself enjoying the game more than he thought he would as he hears the familiar tune, it is awfully catchy isn’t it? He’s gotta hand it to the soviets for that. His gameplay slows down as he tries to speedread the page on his other monitor. Instead of forcing pieces quickly he instead lets them drift slowly while his board is relatively clear. Sasha sees this and decides to go in for the kill.

Suddenly as Michael’s eyes wander away from the game for just a second too long there is an unfamiliar sound. He darts his attention back only to see the floor of his Tetris board rocket up in response to Sasha doing an impossibly well timed combo of lines. Michael’s heartbeat increases at a shocking rate in response as losing becomes a very real possibility. Why is he so upset? His face grows red as he realizes just how outclassed he is. Obviously this is no big deal right? Just a game. But Michael cannot help but feel physically uncomfortable as the tides start to turn so swiftly. 

There is suddenly a crick in his neck that he stretches to avail but only exacerbates as a soreness begins to spread further across his body. Man is he tensing up too much? It’s just, it’s just a game right? Trying to calm down he is hit with the thought as if it were a shot of adrenaline that he absolutely cannot lose this game. His eyebrows furrow as they begin to square and thicken, casting dark shadows over his rage-filled eyes. His limbs take turns cramping as he clenches his neck and jaw to distract from the pane, not noticing as the structure of his face begins to change. 

His chest grows to join the chorus of muscle spasms as Michael struggles to keep up with even Sasha’s slower gameplay. Across the seas Sasha takes his time, knowing victory is in the bag, and savoring what he knows must be happening to his little troll Michael right now. He smirks as he imagines the discomfort in Michael’s changing body as he feels warmth grow in his own chest, and crotch, as he decides just how much he wants to play with his food. 

Back in the states Michael finds the heat, the sweat, the tightness of his clothes increasingly unbearable. As he continues to mash buttons on his remote he is too intent on the game to notice as hair begins to darken around his forearms and begin to snake its way towards his hands. He rubs them each down to placate the tickle on his growing arms. This is absolutely nothing to the creeping itch that is starting to encompass the entirety of his rapidly expansive legs. He shifts his heavier thighs trying to soothe the discomfort, making a loud sound as they pull away from the sweat sticking them to the chair but not allaying the soreness or itch in the slightest.

He grunts and notices not how his voice has grown both deeper and gruffer in his throat. Michael struggles to keep the remote from slipping out of his hands as sweat trickles down from his hairy arms and into his palms. Before it becomes a problem however Michael takes advantage of the lull in Sasha’s gameplay and tries to quickly remove his far too strained shirt. It should be a simple task after all, just put the remote down for a second, slide it off, and then back to the game. He does a brief check in to ensure he has even that and after believing he does Michael starts to try and remove the shirt strained and sticking to his skin.

He has precious little time as the pieces continue to fall at their set pace in game. He gets one hand under the hem of his shirt and tries to wrench it while keeping his other hand on the controller, this lets in a breeze of cold air sending quivers of pleasure across his pulsating muscle, as well as igniting a burning ache in his chest and torso. His upper body grows even further, finally overfilling his shirt as the sound of tears ring out in his bedroom alongside the same repetitive folk song he knows well. The idea that this shirt was loose fitting when he threw it on this morning or that he just identified the Tetris theme as a folk song rather than an 8-bit annoyance don’t have a chance to come to mind as he struggles to remain focused on not losing the game.

He pulls the shirt up to his chest before it gets uncomfortably stuck “Ach, bog uh- god damnit.” He scratches at his chest as the soreness and growing muscle makes way for a fiery prickling as the few chest hairs he has been a tad ashamed of begin to thicken and darken on his chest. Swirling out from his nipples and inching higher on his chest with each breath, he continues to struggle to remove himself mindlessly. Finding his shirt caught on his expansive pecs he rubs his hand underneath it across his sweaty chest, and finding it pleasurably drag through more hair on his pecs than he would’ve sworn he had in his pubes, he resolves to remove the shirt however he can. 

As soon as he finishes a line Michael tosses the remote down and goes to raise his shirt above his head, his thicker arms struggling as they adjust to their new range of motion. He wrests the tight shirt above his head, his chest bursting large once more, freed from the garment as the breeze tickles the sweat covered chest hair and forces his enlarged nipples to harden. Having overcome his suddenly massive pecs the neckline is now caught on his chin, his arms raised high above his head expose his pits to the cold open air. He feels the air con blow against his recently shaved pits as the hair begins to grow back. It starts to catch as the hair begins to grow thicker and longer than it had ever done before, curling together as new hairs begin to push out and form a bush thick enough to never see the skin beneath again.

This also brings his attention to new development in his body, with his face shoved into his shirt it would be impossible not to notice the unbecoming amount of sweat soaking it. Arms raised though he finally notices that he has an altogether far more powerful scent, on par with a macro-obsessed body builder or hygiene-phobic wild man. Michael feels a beard start to push out into the shirt still hugging his face. Shaving once a month was more than enough to keep him clean shaven but now he knew deep in his mind that he would never have a day again where his face would be smooth. It’s that Ru- That American blood in him, right?

He begins to feel himself lost in the scent as his mind begins to grow distracted, attention fading from the game despite the looping tune filling his mind. He turns his head to smell his pits through his shirt which is when he hears the dreaded sound of Sasha making a combo once more, “Gah! Nyo, I can’t lose” he shouts, not noticing as his rough tone begins to develop a slight accent. Ending the long-standing struggle against his shirt he simply rips it off and jumps for the controller, ashamed at how foolish and lustful he has suddenly found himself in the middle of this all-important competition.

He needs to make his people proud! He cannot let Amerika down, ya? His focus and vision return to the game as he stumbles through one more line before all the pieces fall from view and the game declares Sasha the winner. Mikael reflexively pounds his table shouting, “Ny- no! I, this!” struggling to find any words to make his loss okay. Unable to notice just how bizarre this game has affected him, though sure that something grave has occurred. He scrambles to the chat box where he sees Sasha has yet again beaten him to the punch, “gg Брат(brother) yes?”

Mikael’s eyes don’t even notice the language switch in the message as he quickly races to demand a rematch. Punching keys slower than the career-cyberbully is accustomed to, almost as if he would be more comfortable with a different keyboard format, slowly he punches his response “one more best dva out of tri ya?” Sasha laughs out loud seeing Mikael suddenly typing out anglicized Russian. He smirks and squeezes his crotch in excitement at just how far this American brat has fallen into his hands. Sasha responds in full Russian knowing that Mikael may as well already be his countryman. “конечно, почему бы и нет, брат (sure why not, brother)”

Mikael smiles as he prepares for yet another go against Sasha, he’s eager to learn from his, uh? Suddenly he can’t quite remember how he knows Sasha exactly as his memories of his persistent pathetic history of being a troll begins to fade from his mind. As the Tetris theme starts once more with the game Mikael finds himself singing along as the words to the folk song it is based on, blushing at the vulgarity therein.

The race is on once more and though he was sure this was a competition against his friend, no, his брат(brother), Sasha, He can’t help but feel a giddiness as the game progresses. He feels a warmth in his chest just from playing a game of his childhood, of his country? No he’s a born and bred statesman da? He’s from, uh Moscow is a city in one of the states too da? Though he finds himself distracted his body continues to expertly control the game subconsciously.

He blushes as he struggles to remember where he grew up, it was a smaller town for sure. Somewhere very far North for sure, after all why else would he grow so hairy! He launches into a hearty laugh as body hair continues to push out from every pore in his body, sure to be peaking out from every shirt collar on both sides. He scratches at his pubes as it becomes clear that even besides his massive package there will evermore be a bulge in his pants from this unkept jungle as well. 

His eyes continue to follow the pieces up and down as they slowly begin to lighten and bleach themselves an icy blue. The itchiness that has made itself at home through the whole of its body is replaced with a burning pleasure as he thinks oh his home. Full days where there is only sun, long treks into the city to visit St. Basil’s, helping his mother fry pirozhki. The hair atop his head bleaches itself a sandy blonde while still thickening and pulling itself short as a lightbulb goes off in his head his voice rumbles in his chest as he reflexively speaks in what must be his mother tongue, “Конечно! я спрошу у Саши (Of course! I’ll just ask Sasha).” 

He goes to pause the game as he now knows he can do and types to Sasha in chat, “hey брат, wher am i от again?” Sasha smirks at just how easy this was stopping short from fully masturbating as he thinks of his new massive countryman living a world away as he replies, “недалеко от Москвы, Миша (just outside of Moscow, Misha).”

Misha’s eyes glaze over as he reads this, the room around him changes, American flags familiar patterns shift into the Russian tricolor. Any writing within the room shifts from English to the cyrillic alphabet and Misha sits there with a smile as he recalls his home. Long winters working alongside his best friend Sasha. His neck thickens and his waist expands as he thinks of long nights drinking alongside his friends to abate the cold. The game of Tetris continues on and he again feels a warmth in his chest at the chance to play with his dearest Друг(friend) Sasha.

For the life of him he can’t quite remember why he has moved to Америки though he is sure that Sasha will know. Sasha always knows the right thing to do. One thing is for sure though, he is going to do his Motherland proud.

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 1

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: social drinking, mechanical bull-related injuries lol

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.7k so far

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi! i'm aqua and this is my first ever fic so please be nice!! i will be crossposting this work and all future works on my ao3 of the same name. i'm figuring out how this works as i go, so please be patient with me. tags are subject to change with every update. i won't have a posting schedule for this one, but i have the first few chapters pre-written, so expect an update sometime next week!

Chapter 1: Lay Your Cards Down, Down, Down, Down

Although this is the furthest thing from your scene, you can’t help but think to yourself that you should invest in some cowboy boots. You could make them work, you’re sure of it.

Even if you know you would never pull the trigger on purchasing any, too far out of the comfort zone of your normal style, the thought is the only thing keeping you sane—that, and the sound of Cowboy Carter blasting through the speakers of the bar, a welcome reprieve from the drawling, boring country anthems you’d been suffering through for the past hour or so. 

You pride yourself on seeing the merit in all genres of music, you do. You were always the type of person who puffed up her chest when you told people ‘I listen to everything,’ uncaring of how pretentious it may sound. You mean it. It’s an asset in your line of work, and as far as you’re concerned, a little bit of pretentiousness is a small price to pay for the, quite frankly, baller route your fledgling career is heading in. 

But a Western bar? Not the kind of place you’d spend a precious Friday night willingly. Another hazard of the job.

After months of skillfully avoiding the weekly Friday nights out with the other rookie reporters at the magazine, you’d run out of excuses not to join them. If four years studying communications taught you anything, it was that connections are everything in the journalism business. Even more so where the music industry is concerned.

So here you are, at your fourth stop of your night of bar hopping with your extroverted and extremely drunk coworkers, nursing warm beer and observing from the least populated corner you managed to scout upon entry. All things considered, you had been a good sport at the three previous stops. You just draw the line at square dancing with the people you work with. College may have beaten your fear of impromptu phone calls and talking to strangers out of you, but your social battery can only take so much. 

Your phone battery, too, you think bitterly as you stare down at the low battery warning on your screen. Okay, so you’ll finish your shitty beer (because you’re not quite successful enough yet to afford wasting alcohol that you’re paying for) and then use your phone’s remaining juice to catch an Uber home. No biggie.

You’re in the middle of turning off your phone with full intent to work out the kinks of your exit strategy when you realize, with irritation, that your chosen corner is about to be invaded.

Your eyes land on a pair of black Dunks ( in a Western bar? your mind supplies, as if you have any room to judge in your Docs) and travel up, past torn black jeans and a black shirt, and just when you’re sensing a theme with this guy, your eyes reach a head of (regrettably, very nice) black hair and a pair of the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. Anish Kapoor would wail at the sight of these eyes, you think.

As if sensing your apprehension, your corner-thief raises his free hand (the other clutching a plastic cup of his own) palm out, as if to say ‘I come in peace’ and stops in his tracks.

“I can find another spot,” corner-thief says, the low rumbling of his voice barely audible above Texas Hold ‘Em. “I’m just waiting for one of my friends to get bored or injured so I can leave.”

“Injured,” you repeat, despite your better judgment to take him up on his offer and let him be on his way. But your phone is dead and you’re a little bit drunk, bored, and even for an unwanted partner in social evasion, this guy is nicer to look at than the frat guys playing beer pong you’ve been observing for the better part of an hour.

Corner-thief grins a stupidly charming gummy smile, leaning just the slightest bit closer to be heard better but still keeping a respectful distance. As if he’s still wary that you’ll lunge at him if he encroaches on your space any further. Good man.

“There’s a mechanical bull upstairs,” he says, using his index finger on the hand holding his cup to point at the ceiling above you both.

Of course there is. With your luck, you’ll also have to peel someone off of the floor later after going head-to-head with the bull.

“Not your thing?” you guess, glancing pointedly at his Jordans, and he shakes his head, huffing through his nose in what you can only guess is a laugh.

“No, I wouldn’t say so.” 

He pauses, shifting from foot to foot for a moment before speaking again. “So, will you share your wall? I can look around again but this place is more packed than I would’ve pegged it for.”

You nod and he smiles again thankfully, taking the spot on the wall next to you. That should be it. Two strangers who don’t want to be here standing in companiable silence next to each other while they wait for their friends–or coworkers, in your case–to put them out of their misery and let them go home.

But… You consider your options, your phone taking its dying breath in your pocket, and you sigh, turning to him.

“Y/N,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake. 

He takes it with his free hand, giving you an amused look. “Yoongi.”

“What’s that look for?”

He laughs again, a little bit more this time, and your heart does a stupid, funny thing. “I don’t think I’ve ever been greeted by a pretty girl in a bar with a handshake,” he says, causing you to flush and pull your hand away as if it’d been burned, your shoulders tensing as you take a sip of your beer. 

A western bar certainly isn’t your scene, but admittedly, neither are bars or clubs in general. You got all of that out of your system in college where everyone was awkward as fuck or too drunk to care that you were, and ever since you got your degree you have lived and breathed your work. Your social skills were never quite up to par, but you didn’t realize you were this fucking embarrassing.

“I came out with coworkers right after we got off, so I think I’m still kind of in work mode,” you lie, and as if sensing that you feel slightly made fun of, Yoongi shakes his head.

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, swear,” he says, tilting his head at you. Dark eyes considering you. “Honestly, I’m thankful you’re putting up with me at all. I don’t think I’d be so kind if the roles were reversed. I know firsthand how hard it is to find a spot to breathe in places like this.”

You feel your shoulder muscles relax just the slightest bit. “I thought about sending you away, but I couldn’t help it. My heart aches when I see an introvert in need of a hiding spot,” you attempt to joke. 

“At least I’m out with friends,” he says sympathetically. “I’ve done the coworker thing before. It’s a drag.”

“It’s weird ,” you correct. “I mean, I sit in meetings with these people. I avoid answering their emails all day. Why is it considered rude to not want to see them piss drunk?”

Yoongi hums in agreement, nodding his head. “What do you do, anyway?”

“I work for Look Here Magazine,” you reply, straightening up a bit in pride when Yoongi’s eyes flash with recognition, his body turning so his shoulder is against the wall now. You turn as well, facing him. “I write for the music section.”

“No shit? I’ve probably read your stuff, then,” Yoongi says, grinning. 

He’s cute. Hot. You can’t help but notice, no matter how hard you’re trying not to. The way that he seems to carry himself in particular, you think, might end up driving you crazy if you’re exposed to it for too long. Maybe you’ve been living under a rock, but you’ve never met a fellow wallflower that still exuded such confidence. He wears it insanely well.

“Look Here covers a lot of big artists,” you hear him continue. “I’m a little surprised you’re hugging the wall, honestly. This place is nothing compared to music industry parties.”

“Ah, I only started a few months ago,” you admit, looking down into your cup. “Not a lot of bylines yet. I haven’t made it into a room with an artist that big yet.”

“But you want to,” Yoongi guesses, and you nod, looking up to meet his eyes. He looks impressed, impressed by you , and that… does something to you. Huh. “Shit, that’s… That’s really cool.”

“Thanks,” you say. You can feel your cheeks heating up again, and you’re suddenly very eager to turn the attention away from yourself. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Ah,” Yoongi says, fixing his eyes to his cup just as you had a moment ago. “I’m a music producer, actually.”

You perk up at that. So that’s why he reads Look Here, why he seemed so interested when you told him what you do. 

“Anything I’ve heard?” you ask, leaning in like he’s about to tell you a secret. Networking never stops.

He watches as you lean, his mouth turning up at the corners in a smirk. “Probably.” 

You wait for more, but it doesn’t come. Shithead. So much for that.

“You’ve gotta give me more than that,” you say, and god, you can hear the pout in your own voice. Are you that drunk? Flirting for a lead in a story?

“I don’t,” Yoongi says simply, his smirk in full force now. Mean and annoying and hot. He hasn’t leaned away from you yet. “I want to know more about you, actually. Journalism is hard work. I’m surprised you have time to go out like this.”

“Like I said, I was forced.”

“Still. Spending time with your friends or family or partner or whatever must take priority when it comes to your free time.”

Why is he so interested? You scrunch your nose, trying to figure out what he could be fishing for here. You don’t make it a habit to divulge the details of your sad excuse for a personal life to strangers, but the alcohol has loosened your lips. Maybe you need to talk about it. It’s not like you’ll ever see him again, anyway.

“My family is back home. My best friend is this insanely talented playwright. She’s constantly traveling. I see her when she can get some time to fly out.” You take a quick sip of your drink, ignoring the pang in your chest. Sometimes it sneaks up on you, how lonely you are. “Other than her, it’s just me, really. The dating thing… Nobody really seems to get how demanding my job can be, and it always ends in hurt feelings.”

There’s a long pause, and you’re worried you’ve shared too much. You’re enjoying talking to Yoongi. You know it doesn’t matter, that you’ll likely never see him again, but it would really, really suck if his permanent mental image of you ends up being ‘lonely weird drunk girl,’ even if that’s what you are. You force yourself to look up at him. The look in his eyes makes your heart flip stupidly again.

“I get that,” he says, and his voice is soft, barely audible over the music filling the space. You’re reading his lips more than anything, honestly, and you don’t let yourself look at them for too long. He may be pretty—unbearably so, you’re realizing—but he’s a stranger. A mean, annoying, hot, pretty stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Every guy says he gets it. This needs to stay what it is, you think. Momentary companionship between introverts who would rather die than square dance.

You don’t get much time to agonize over it. Whatever is going on between you and Yoongi is intercepted quickly by his phone buzzing in his pocket and his responding grimace when he pulls it out to check it.

“Namjoon fell off of the mechanical bull,” he says, like he’s completely unsurprised by that news. He downs the rest of his drink and pockets his phone again, pushing off of the wall. “I’ve gotta deal with that.”

You nod, pulling what you hope is a sympathetic face. “Good luck.”

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, and you hold your breath. He looks like he wants to say something, torn between rushing upstairs to save his friend and staying, just for a moment.

You think you know what he wants to say, think foolishly that maybe he wants to ask for your number, and you honestly don’t know if you’d give it to him if he did. You’re so used to saying no.

He runs his fingers through his hair, opens his mouth to speak, and then he looks down like his phone is buzzing again. When he looks back up, it seems like he’s thought better of it.

“Thanks for sharing your wall,” he settles on, smiling congenially. You smile back, and then he’s heading towards the stairs.

Good, you think. You know better. If he really gets it, he does too.

★ ★ ★

You’re dragged out to one more bar before you finally make it home, your interaction with Yoongi having knocked you off-kilter enough to agree to a few more drinks.

It does wonders for your social status at work, you’re sure, but by the time you’re dropped off you’re dizzy-drunk, fighting to stay upright in the elevator of your apartment building.

You’re fumbling and failing at getting your key into the lock of your front door, tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth in concentration, when a voice calling your name a few feet to your right almost makes you jump out of your skin.

You yell, clutching your chest, and when you turn to face the owner of the voice that almost made you lose the contents of your stomach on your doormat, you’re greeted by none other than corner-thief-mean-annoying-hot-pretty Yoongi himself, leaning against the door to the apartment two doors down.

“What the fuck,” you blurt out dumbly, and he laughs. At you! How dare he stand there, lean there, all hot and annoying and in your apartment building for some fucking reason and laugh at you.

“I was going to ask if you needed help,” he says, and oh, fuck. You were safe from just how deep his voice was under the thrum of the music at the bar, but in the quiet of your apartment building this late, you can hear it just fine. Feel it, even. Feel it in places you do not want to humor right now. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you do.”

It’s obvious that Yoongi is faring much better than you are, although his night clearly didn’t end after the mechanical bull incident. Faster than you can react, he’s right in front of you, gently taking your key from your hands and turning it in the lock, like it’s easy.

“Gonna make it in okay?” he asks, looking down at you. You force your brain to make words.

“I’ll be okay,” you assure him, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “Are you stalking me?”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “I think we’re neighbors.”

“Oh.” Oh. Okay. That’s fine. Just because he’s your neighbor doesn’t mean you have to do something stupid, like see him ever again.

“Give me your number,” he says softly. Oh.

You blink at him, and he grins. Gummy smile. You feel like you’re going to vomit all over his Jordans.

“In case you ever can’t use your keys again,” he clarifies. “I told you, those music industry parties are killer.”

And really, you’re powerless to resist. You give him your number, using all of your remaining brain power to remember the order of the digits. Seemingly satisfied, Yoongi pockets his phone and steps back, heading back to his front door.

“Goodnight, neighbor,” he says, unlocking his door with ease. “Sleep on your side.”

You swallow thickly and nod, slipping inside your own apartment as quickly as you can manage. 

Once you’re in, you sink onto the floor, your back pressed against the door behind you. Your cat, perched on your coffee pot, stares at you in your drunk, flustered state, unimpressed. Offended, even, judging by the way she licks her paw.

You’re so fucked.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

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[demodraws0606]

The way people talk about Tsukasa makes me want to murder people /neg

Somehow just because Tsukasa attracted the attention of the younger fanbase, people just have found themselves allowing to dunk on his fanbase because "how dare these 12 year old misinterpret a character that I don't even personally like".

Because yeah it's almost like young people can identify a darker part of a character but overexagerate it because the part that discerns nuance isn't even fucking developped yet. Or you know maybe it's just fun making angst, maybe they're just venting through Tsukasa ?

And somehow these people making angst are somehow more wrong than the people who just act as though Tsukasa is like the happiest guy ever with the least amount of struggles (because how dare he be happy, the only way a person can be struggling is if they're miserable 24/7).

Like it's wild it's somehow the same thing that happened to Sans, it's as though people don't realize that making a character have less problem than in canon is just as much of a misinterpretation than the opposite, you're not smarter for it.

No genuinely what's wrong with people, every other male oc fans get to do whatever and somehow Tsukasa fans are the ones that only enjoy his character cause he's a "dude".

I'm a Rui fan but it makes 0 sense to me how much of us just get away with more because ig it's more acceptable to make angst of rui ????

Like people say "wow people exagerate Tsukasa's backstory so muchh lol", like ok here are the multiple instances of Tsukasa flashbacks :

-Dazzling Lights

-Tenma mixed event

-Colorfes card

-Vocaloid World Link

Wow, yeah really short and rare Tsukasa flashbacks yeah....

And also people acting as though he was fine being alone at home are just straight up lying, like that is a lie the game literally tells you he's not fine blatantly in Dazzling Lights. And if you somehow needed more proof you can dig through the vocaloid world link, his colorfes card or even fucking side card stories.

There's no reason to talk about Tsukasa fans and how exagerated Tsukasa angst is i'm sorry, you're just being a bully and passive agressive to fans who want to have fun. The only time it's worth while to dunk on them is for ableism which IS a problem with Tsukasa fans.

Obviously I'm not gonna police you into what you should talk about but I just think it's really obnoxious and just kinda has been worsening the toxicity of this already radioactive fandom.

Also don't take anything in this post too personally this is just like a scream into the void about this fandom's behavior around Tsukasa.

I'm talking about this also because I literally saw firsthand how just kinda mean people are to others who just have fun.

[thisisallthehattersfault]

One Piece Omegaverse with Omega Ace would be so, so good if only for the distress all the Whitebeards would be in when he first starts attacking their captain.

This little (comparatively to all these huge ass pirates) omega who reeks like anger and anxiety and stress and -- worst of all -- like loneliness. It isn't that he's unmated, it's that he's unmarked. He doesn't have a pack-scent. There is a faint whiff of some other smell on him, something like sea salt and sunflowers sunk deep enough into his skin to know that at least he's connected with someone, but the bitter, cloying stench of unbonded, unmarked, unclaimed, lone omega has two thirds of the Whitebeard crew damn near climbing the walls with the urge to get this kid to a safe place and pile him with food and nesting supplies and make soothing noises at him until his scent goes pleased-safe-happy and the tension bleeds from his shoulders.

Instead, Whitebeard accepts the kid's challenge and then FLINGS HIM OFF THE SHIP.

The crew is all like god Pops please at least stop yeeting him into the abyss think of our blood pressure we can't take this and Whitebeard, also an Omega, is like "Skill issue" and backhands Ace overboard again.

By pure coincidence most of the omegas onboard happen to be mostly older and veteran pirates, they're pop's nurses, they can tell this kid is not ready to join the pack and god knows none of them would ever let some overbearing alphas and betas convince them to stay somewhere they didn't want to, so while everybody else is tearing their hair out because POPS PLEASE LOOK AT HIM HE'S JUST A BABY HE'S SO SAD AND LONELY AND SOPPING WET Whitebeard and the other omegas on board are like lol. Lmao, even. Get good or get dunked.

plz picture all of the non-omega crew members going crazy with all kinds of instincts and damn near staging a mutiny because pops keeps hurting the sad damp kitten. Ace, of course, sees all of this happening and just gets even more murderous.

[mamawasatesttube]

wait sorry i'm still thinking about fanon and the "no metas in gotham" thing and i have to dunk on bruce in sb94 #85 for a second. every time i think abt this line i just

this is one of the most egregious issues re: bruce being shitty about metas. it's also frankly kind of ooc in that... like. this guy? is supposedly friends with superman? and wonder woman? etc? lol? but in the doylist context, it's simply that batman is being written antagonistically, to show kon being a good friend to cass by standing up to him when he's being an asshole.

that being said. it's absolutely wild to me that there are people who act like bruce being an anti-meta prejudiced raging asshole is a chill and normal quirky trait that's perfectly acceptable when even when it's shown up in canon, it's received pushback immediately from characters around bruce:

or like in batgirl (2000) when he's being controlling over cass, clark shows up to tell him like. dude. chill the fuck out.

idk where i'm going with this exactly, i guess i'm just kinda thinking of how [white] fandom often does not engage with the implications of forms of bigotry that don't have 1:1 parallels in reality. like yeah metahumans don't exist in real life but. i'm sorry man but a man telling his prized possession of a daughter "i don't want you near his kind" re: a boy he considers dangerous is... not the sort of thing that exists in a vacuum. like... does the racism metaphor really have to be spelled out even more blatantly than that for people to realize it's, like. right there??

and i mean. i don't think the people going "oh lol bruce hates metas XD and everyone in the batfam is just chill with that haha" are intending to be like "yeah bruce is a racist dickwad and the rest of the bats are chill with that". i don't think they even realize that the way bruce, when written as being anti-meta, speaks about metas has direct parallels to real-world racist arguments. but that's also kinda the exact problem. why do you not realize this...

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi sex batman! I read the faq and I don’t thiiink you’ve gone into this in depth (haaaahahaha) before. Could you talk about options for non-penetrative sex? I myself am a person with a vulva and had a no-nipples mastectomy, all types of partner accepted.

In my case specifically, I don’t always like my genitals touched during sex, so I want to see what my options are, especially for other “receiving” type acts. Like. Massage? I loooooove hickies so that’s usually what I lean on lol. I also like being restrained in a submissive way but I don’t know what to ask my partner to do after tying me up, if I don’t want to be fucked or hit. I’m beyond happy to just give head all day but both I and my partners sometimes want the attention to be on me for a bit.

Do… other people have some sort of innate sense of what they want to do, and they just wing it? I feel like I’m doing the opening and closing the fridge bc you’re not drawn to anything in it but you’re hungry… but like for sex acts.

I’m sort of confused and scared that I don’t know what I want, and I don’t have a partner at the moment so I dont get much chance for uh. Group study. But I’m on testosterone HRT and listening to a court of silver flames (spicy fairy book) on audiobook so I am. Frequently Horny. Exhausted yeehaw. Whatever you can make of this I’m supremely grateful.

🐝

hi anon,

I have great news: if I were to list out every single sex act that isn't penetration this post would turn into a novel and we would be here for hours. sex can be anything you want it to be, involving any body parts you want and excluding anything that doesn't float your boat. anything that sounds fun to you, go for it.

there's no need to be scared about not knowing exactly what you like; very few people a born knowing they want to be hog-tied by a rodeo clown in a latex suit. that's why it's so important to play and explore, both alone and with partners, to find out what excites you and what you might want to try more of! not everything needs to be a slam dunk; it's fine just to try things on and see what sticks for you. the only way to learn is to give it a try.

[monakisu]

my first photoshop animation EVER for my graphic design class!! :D i did the Virgin Mary & Jesus Christ <3

we were tasked with creating digital collages in line with the style of the Dada Movement which i will Not explain because i've already forgotten everything about it beyond vague emotions! i didn't really know what to do for mine so i went sorta the Basic Route and just did the bible LMAOOO however i think i missed a memo of some sort? everybody else was doing kooky fun fever dream things and mine was just... a downer......

this is abt mary and jesus and how bonkers insane it is to give birth to and raise a kid who you know is destined to Die For Humanity and how bonkers insane it is to be that kid. it makes me feel bad for mary!! and jesus especially!!!

to me, jesus is like fluttershy from MLP. that doesn't make sense. but i like this dude loads! he's endlessly kind!! hearing about how he gets bullied throughout the bible always made me :( for him... he felt very lonely! everybody dunked on him, his own hometown hated his guts, and even his own disciples didn't fully get him (like that one time he gave them literally One Thing to do and they just conked out on the spot. great job guys.)

i felt the absolute worst for him when he was up on that mountain (i forgot which) praying so hard he was sweating BLOOD in desperation for his dad to "pass on this cup" (ie. the burden of a martyr ie.ie. DYING) which showed how he didn't just smoothly selflessly accept his fate!! he was scared!!! and then he gets thrashed around and pinned up on a cross and dies from asphyxiation due to the head becoming too heavy to be supported by the neck or just infection or starvation or whatever!!!!! poor fella :(

anyways. about the animation.

beginning ballet - dont know what to tell you. i really love ballet. ballerinas are hardcore!! the dancer is mary and her little lamb is jesus!

falling tears - those are mary's!

two-headed lamb - i also don't know about this one... thought it looked cool LOL could represent how the rest of the world treated jesus with disgust... i really winged this project wahahaha

saturn devouring his son - the casual objectification of jesus throughout the bible really unsettled me. it was made very clear that the dude was basically a tool? and the dude himself admits it multiple times! that's effed. anyways, god sacrificing his own son reminded me of this goya painting hahaha since it's also father and son! "devouring" the sacrificial lamb / using him up

applause - because jesus went through all this hullabaloo the rest of humanity gets to frolic on, even the people who hated and beefed with jesus. so the applause is sorta like people expressing thanks? some of them are very superficial, not very grateful.....

sorry if this is blasphemous HAHAHA i don't know much abt the lore besides my own opinions formed from a single year of highschool bible class and my childhood memories of obsessing over this walmart kid's adaptation of the entire bible...

but animation is surprisingly super ultra fun!!!!! i thought it would involve a lot more crying?! animators always seem sorta tortured to me!

[darethshirl]

okay so people keep dunking on poor Tassia for not realising Neb is fucking dead and just chatting at him with like zero response BUT are we not gonna talk about freaking REZAREN talking to him??

like? are you expecting a response here?? from the corpse? the reanimated corpse that you made? what kind of mental gymnastics is this man doing in this head good GOD

also THIS part

like is this a joke. is he having a private joke with himself. is he chuckling inside.

and you know what actually this last scene is a really cool way the show tricks us, cause on first viewing Rezaren just seems like a calm and chill guy here, unruffled, doesn’t raise his voice, just an all-around mild dude

and then you rewatch and go oh. this man thinks this entire situation is acceptable. he thinks his life is a Normal Life to live. no wonder he doesn’t realise he’s the villain of the story lol

[wolfofcelestia]

So I went through all the dub voices for both Sylus and Zayne

And here's how I'd rank them and my thoughts on each one

(Long and rambling post lmao)

Sylus:

Trad. CN > English > Japanese > Korean > Sim. CN

Ok listen, I don't really know the difference between the two CNs but I can understand Trad. CN a tiny bit more and holy shit what a difference between the two. Trad. CN sounds much more confident and stronger. He has the smugness that Eng and JP has. And while I usually go for the JP dub, Sylus's seiyuu just happens to be one I don't really like lol

If I actually understood Chinese (LMAO), Trad. CN Sylus could have probably won me over more but me disappointing my ancestors made sure I went with the doctor instead of the criminal adslkjgjchf

(Also he actually made a sound when he bit her hand so that's a plus lmao)

Korean Sylus sounds... soft but kind of mysterious I guess? He has an aura that a high ranking leader should have, minus the smugness and... the brashness that JP and ENG have? His voice is clean and polished but lacks an edge. It does sound nice, objectively, but considering the language barrier, it's a little hard for me to get into his voice

Japanese Sylus just sounds like Bubs GBF, I'm sorry. I can't be seduced by Bubs pls. But he has the smugness, arrogance, and confidence that you'd expect from Sylus, so objectively, it's a good fit for him. Just not for me lmao. If I didn't have a personal distaste for his voice, I'd probably put him at #2

Sim. CN Sylus just confuses me tbh. He doesn't sound like what I'd expect Sylus to sound like. He just sounds like some random guy. There's no forcefulness, no smugness, or arrogance. He's just. There.

English Sylus is (MIRACULOUSLY) my main Sylus... which I defaulted to because I can't be seduced by Bubs (lol) and because it's the only other language I can understand. I do have big criticisms about his voice, but he is starting to hit a few targets in me.

Yes, petnames and all. I feel like he's the type of guy to keep using them, ESPECIALLY if you get annoyed by them. But him using petnames for the person he likes also feels like an in-character power move. He won't call you by your name. Instead, he'd call you a name he chose for you

English Sylus does have the confidence, smugness, and arrogance that you'd expect from him, but he just... needs to speak faster and fix the weird inflections that make it sound like he's reading from a script

Zayne:

Japanese > Korean = Trad. CN > Sim. CN

(I already dunked on Eng Zayne enough today so I'm just not gonna include him here lmao. He just doesn't exist to me)

Ok so... Trad. CN Li Shen made me tear up fROM BEING SO FUCKING SOFT AND WHISPERY AAHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭. He's blindsided me about three times in such a short test period. He sounds so fucking comfy, I could curl up in his voice. He gets more flustered when you touch his dick too lmao

Yeah I'm sorry Lee Seoeon, I thought you were my only #2 but you're just gonna have to share that spot with this guy

If I actually understood Chinese more, I'd have like... two... husbands... Li Shen and Rei. So like. Li Shen x 4 and Rei x 4. I'd have... 8 husbands... who are all the same person 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OG Li Shen sounds fine. I don't really have any strong feelings about him. He sounds like how he should sound and I really hear how SatoTaku incorporated his nuances into his portrayal of Rei. This Li Shen feels familiar mainly because of that. He's just the Chinese version of Rei

I could freely accept this version of him and consider him just Rei speaking Chinese... that's how familiar he is to me, but also... he feels a little more distant because of that language barrier

Lee Seoeon feels like he's constantly trying to seduce me uwu. The moment I switched to Korean and heard his voice, I just stopped breathing for a few seconds 😭😭 Sir, I have no idea what you're saying but if you'd like to take me home, I would not refuse adfasldkfj we could just stay in the office tho

Rei is undoubtedly my favourite for personal, sentimental reasons and because of his voice performance, of course. His voice is comforting, a breath of fresh air, and is the perfect amount of warmth and confidence. And when the situation calls for it, SatoTaku can put out absolute banger acting skills too

Li Shen(s) and Lee Seoeon are fine and all but Rei is my Rei 🥰

[papirouge]

How can you stand going into nazi discussions and reading all the crap they're writing? I hate them so much lol

I don't understand women who entertain those kind of men, I know some of them are men pretending to be women but some of them are the real deal... like they'll never respect and accept them as one of them except to be a white babies factory, yet these womens racism is bigger than their self respect and self esteem.

But what I understand even less is non-whites entertaining neo nazi ideology. I'm aware that just like with women some are just white people pretending to be PoCs, but I've known actual poc thta agree with nazism and some even post pics of themselves. It's so ugly lol but I've noticed that they always seem to be non-black PoC or if black they're light skin, they just seem to have the mentality of "at least i'm not a n*gger 🤪" thus why they think they can mingle with the whiteys and be accepted by them. Like many of them are usually pale-skinned latinos or east asians from what I've noticed. And neo nazis sometimes entertain them because they realize they're good for creating division between non-whites but they never really accept them as one of them - they're just their fighting dogs. These idiots need to realize many nazis and white supremacists barely accept white people with black hair and brown eyes as their own (sometimes they'll accept them but consider them less pure and beautiful than their blue/green eyes blond haired counterparts). That's why you'll see blond, blue-eyed neo nazi men constantly dunk on white women and brown-eyed dark haired people - even though they could be his allies he still needs to feel superior to them because he probably has nothing going for him except for his race and sex (which he has convinced himself makes him superior). He doesn't have to work for it or earn it he simply is born superior and everyone else should understand that too and treat him as such. When you think about it, it's really pathetic and stupid.

Last thing is I'll always laugh at neo nazis talking about black or brown people marrying white to "bleach/lighten their genes". Not because it's not true; many brown and black people do wish they could have light skin or white kids, hopefully with light eyes and hair too (mentol illness), but because dark skin, dark hair and brown eyes are DOMINANT genes!!! So are "black features". This is why they'll never make me feel bad about my features, God made them dominant and theirs recessive lol perhaps for a reason (this is why christians white supremacists are even more stupid to me).

I think women drawn to Nazi/misogynist see in it a form a "strong masculinity" they don't find in more liberal men. They're too dumb to realize those moids only talk smack from their socials but will shit themselves if confronted IRL with any of the demographics they shit on the regular. I mean, for so called strong men they, White nationalists are actually pretty meek when it come to display outward sign of their opinion in the real world. That's why they only do so in rallies. Standing alone they are scaredy cats that will play victim #antiwhitegenocide. You can bet that the person who made the tweet saying she went out of her way to say she was racist to that foreign bus driver whose only crime was being friendly, that if the bus driver would've reacted aggressively she would act like she was the victim. Because nazi & racists love playing the victim card whenever they initiate antagonization.¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

And yeah you're totally right about racist/Nazi non White rallying around the "at least I'm not Black" thing. It's very true for Hispanics (like Stonetoss) or Indians. No one tells them white Nazi will always consider them like inferior pawns they'll toss away the moment they're not useful. Same goes for women they'll shit on they do a step aside. Lauren Southern and Candace Owens are case study. I think dunking on other race help them cope with their otherwise shitty life : they're unemployed, broke, lonely...but at least they're not Black 🤪

And what's so funny with the so called superior aryan race is how hellbent they are to show they're superior. When you're truly secure in your superiority, you don't waste time trying to prove it. Lions don't run with dogs. I mean, I always found crazy they so much into the bio essentialist bs about IQ but yet oblivious to the fact that their own gene are recessive. Shouldn't nature favor high IQ Aryan gene instead? 🤔 Like- it never clicked to me how they flip flop around biological essentialism lol

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Oh boy, this chapter had a lil kick to it.

when i tell you i nearly had a heart attack reading the tags and was so excited but then read that... poor dabi and his inability to deal with feelings (as usual) 😿

Dabi being ready to completely give up on his revenge and being human to be able to stay with the league is so bittersweet. Mostly bitter. Poor boy only ever wanted to be loved and was so sure that he wouldn't be accepted as a human is just sad. But also real cause how do you tell the guy you had been sleeping and cuddling with who thought you're a cat that you're secretly a grown man spying on him.

"No, Dabi doesn't want to die in his arms. He doesn't want Tomura to have to watch him go."

"He wishes that he could say something. Wishes he could tell Tomura he'd imagined dying a hundred times but he'd never expected to be sad to go. Wishes he could tell him that he's so, so happy that he got to spend the last few months of his life with him. Being Onigiri was worth every pain of being Toya and Dabi because they brought him to Tomura."

CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP TANCO WHAT IS THIS I WAS NOT MENTALLY PREPARED FOR THE ANGST OMG.

I! Hate! AFO! Like how petty do you have to be to try and kill a CAT that had been keeping your son sane??? Catbi and Tomura did not deserve to go through that. And Tomura finally speaking up to AFO is so refreshing.

I love how your depiction of Spinner is almost always just him blushing and being embarrassed or embarrassing himself. Poor guy can never catch a break. Right in front of Stain the guy who was basically the whole reason he became a villain too 💀

Love button!! It's so cute!!

"Dabi hits the button again, "I love you." his chest feels too small, too tight, too full. He hits it again, and again, and again, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you--""

Nevermind, it's heartbreaking. Moving on.

Stain knowing is probably the biggest plot twist ever. Like WOW I did not expect that.

Great chapter!! It made me cry but great chapter!!

Lol sorry about slam dunking angst directly into your brain, but I'm also not sorry at all and am savoring the screams.

Poor Spinner is so 19, has been isolated his entire life, and has never even committed a crime, the boy's got the spirit, but he doomed himself to being a mess in my stories by being a sad wet gecko

Thank you so much for commenting!

[astrxlfinale]

Knowing a partner well can potentially make writing together a lot easier.

Repost it up. No reblogging.

--------

NAME: Jace

PRONOUNS : He/Him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : Tbh DMs and Discord are the best way to go. If I'm ever calling you up in 4k, we've probably know each other for a hella long while at this point in this hobby. lol

NAME OF MUSE(s) : Caelus (Honkai Star Rail)

BEST EXPERIENCE : In particular it was a RP in my manga days of RP with my Oga Tatsumi muse. Me and a bunch of Nintendo related muses (After playing the hilarious spectacle of Shut up and Jam Gaiden, proceeded to do a shounen-esque RP of basketball that went into comical perfection. Rosalina Nintendo did indeed nuke everyone at the end with her Cosmic, universal shattering dunk.

It was GLORIOUS.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS :

:| So uh, there may be a bit to this.

Trauma/Stress Dumping: The #1 that will have me done at the drop of a hat. Since I even began rp'ing it's always been this thing, people seeking other folks/people who offer up solid chill times to just go and vent the entire world and then some onto them. Mind you a lot of these interactions being with strangers likely known for a week at most.

This literally has no changed a lick since middle school. Unless I've known you for a considerable amount of time, this is the easiest way to proceed breaking all contact with me.

Not to have this confused with venting on your own blog/space. I accept and always respect that boundary. Just do not use talking as an opportunity to lean into such subject matter. It's one of the central reasons I'm really careful in joining group chats to begin with. There is a difference in telling me that a day was rough/bullshit, AND letting me know of particular territory to be watchful for in discussion, then just using me as an outlet. Especially in what I take for a hobby.

Socializing =/= Writing time: While I enjoy the social aspect of RP in it's nature. I never want to be in a position where the hangout time I spend with you creates the curve of interaction. That easily exhausts me and takes the fun from things once I'm clued in. Honestly speaking, someone could never talk to me outside sparse words, and we just run around with our muses writing up all sorts of scenarios and it'd work perfectly. This is what I use the website for!

Plotting does not fall under this umbrella. If people need an angle to make their magic work, I'm all for cooperating with you, this again just leans into xyz activities outside the hobby. Stretching yourself too thin in this regard can genuinely screw people over in other long time hang outs too, I've learned that the hard way.

Reference of Son/Daughter talk in mention to the muse in question: While I've first seen it on this website, in the same vein it's made me incredibly goddamn tired as it reels directly into the conversation involving the infantalization of muses. This likely strikes the highs for me into terms of 'Fandom Curses' alongside 'One character quality defines the whole character in question.'. Let's not even get started into fandom habits shaping the perception of a character OUTSIDE of canon content. Having muses that had to deal with the primary talk point here, I've just said to hell with giving many things or people a chance.

It just comes off as a really weird practice to me. It leans off heavily into the realm of character disrespect on top of that, as these idealized fandom notions. (For Example: Kingdom Heart's Aqua being relegated to 'Momqua'.) It gets too 'family' oriented in a sense where these accomplished characters can't really explore the depth of both their struggles, triumphs and lows. So if you seen me avoid that like the plague, that's exactly why.

'Comfort Character' Projection: It aligns a smidgen with the above. But no, have no expectation that I'll ever be a source to live out these particulars with you if I happen to play that very muse. I've again not hesitated to cut off connections at all when people attempt to wire these expectations onto me. My iteration of the muse is exactly what you signed up for by following me, respect that, just as I respect your boundaries.

MUSE PREFERENCES: If we're talking about the TYPE of muse I enjoy? Delinquent muses take the penultimate crown. I love those rowdy but firm hearted types.

PLOTS OR MEMES : Throw both at me. Now days I've gotten particularly more experienced into the plotting department. In the same vein I can't have it entirely streamlined either. I gotta let the muses breathe their breaths and exercise their own voice and actions.

That said? Memes are eternal, just throw those in anyday of the week, even if they're in the old logs of my blog. I never mind that. Just the prompts and scenarios alone can spark forth some vivid ideas/adventures that do lead into plotting. So hell, both sides win.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : Either is good. Though, a forewarning that I CAN wind up getting wordy. This never has to be matched as I'm just a sucker for details.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : For me, it's normally times outside the midday. It's usually when I'm available, as you'd come to see me around mornings or nights. (Also it's the best focus time.)

I say normally however, there's also plenty of times I'd just be hanging around on/off periodically.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : Outside of some brazen qualities. Not really no!

Tagged by: Not a soul! Yoinked it up myself.

Tagging: If you feel like lettin' the world know, then by all means!

[kissingrhi]

I saw your top 10 favorite BCS headcanons where you said Nacho loves swimming and was wondering if you wouldn’t mind writing a small drabble on that like would he prefer the pool or the ocean, if he has a preference for what reader wears, etc. idk if this makes sense lol thank-youuu (I’m in love with your writing)

you're the sweetest! 😘 

nacho was convinced that there was nothing he loved more (besides you) than swimming.

if he could, he'd soak up the sun and feel waves splashing against his sides every hour of every day. but unfortunately, with his job, he can't.

so when he's able to, he absolutely cherishes the opportunity.

he loves the ocean deeply. growing up, when his family was able to go, weekend trips to the beach in mid-july were everything to him. piggybacking on his father's back as waves erupted over the backs of their heads, noticing seaweed tickling his legs, feeling absolutely lavish, basking in the tingling sensation of the sun while eating frozen grapes on a sandy towel.

he's told you before that was the happiest he'd ever felt.

but now, growing older and gaining wrinkles from things besides hours in sparkling waters, he often doesn't have time. sure, he loved the ocean more than anything, but he couldn't always be there. so, he invested in a pool. he has to spoil himself with the joy of swimming, even if he rarely can anymore.

however, when the two of you are able to have a pool day, nacho has the time of his life every single time.

"you look different." you snorted, taking in nacho's relaxed form, simply gliding along the top of his pool.

his head snapped up, the slight-pink twinge from the sun on his cheeks growing at the sight of you in swim-wear (his favorite, though he'll never tell you).

"what do you mean?" his voice was gentle, lacking the deep hoarseness you'd grown so used to.

"you look at peace." you smiled, wading your way over to brush your thumb along his jaw. "for once." you added, smiling at the crinkle in his eyes.

"of course i am." his tone was honest, yet hushed, like he was mumbling a forbidden secret. like he couldn't accept the sense of vulnerability he felt with you.

swimming with him was when you were convinced he was the most beautiful. tiny droplets over water along his doe-like eyelashes. the clench in his jaw gone, like it was never there in the first place. only the most genuine smile among his lips.

for a while, the two of you just sat like that. swimming around, breathing in the fresh summer air and admiring each other. sometimes dunking your heads under the water to cool off, or making subtle small talk.

you registered the sudden splash against your face like whiplash, jaw dropping at his malicious giggling. "oh you are fucking dead!" was all you could yell, aimlessly flailing your arms at his blurry figure.

while he dunked you under the water and lifted you up over his head, he drank in your infectious laughter.

he was sure he felt the tickle of seaweed against his legs.