#anyways i bought these cheap ass fairy lights

[cruezins]

       ☣  ;  (  KIM TAEHYUNG  ,  24  ,  HE/HIM  )  coming up next on rebel radio is OPAUL by FREDDIE DREDD  .  this tune goes out to SIWON RYU  .  rumor has it they just rolled into town and are fightin’ for the GHOULS  .  they’re AFFABLE  ,  INQUISITIVE but also AIMLESS  ,  MERCURIAL so watch your backs out there  .  we wish them the best of luck here in our golded city of light  .  stay vigilant  ,  stay dirty rock ‘n rollers and we’ll catch you for the next one  .

𝐎𝐎𝐂  :  hello  !  i’m deni and i don’t know what editing is  .  i use she/her pronouns and live in the gmt+9 timezone  .   i’m terrible with ooc chats and half the time just want to vibe a connection or plot idea  ,  so please don’t hesitate to throw a half-formed thought at me because i swear i’ll do the same  .  my discord is gay fairy#6371  .  anyway  ,  here is siwon  ,  someone i’ve been work-shopping for a while  !  looking forward to writing with you  ♡

                     ☣  ;  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇  .

cw  :  drug mentions  ;  stop me if you’ve heard this one before------

       his dad’s a junkie and he hasn’t seen his mom since some fatcats bought their restaurant for a steal a few years before  ,  but that’s the way of life for a lot of people in the underground  .  young  ,  bored  ,  and desperate to hear and smell anything that wasn’t the rottenness of his own childhood home  ,  siwon found himself on the streets more nights than not  ,  spray paint in one hand   ,  painting nights in greens and purples until reds and blues chased him away  .  makes his first steal before he can tie his shoes  .  creates alliances with the neighborhood kids  ,  sneaks around to watch how the haves live with their pretty  ,  pretty screens and their ugly  ,  ugly words  .  school isn’t anything special  ,  either  ,  and while siwon can’t remember shit that he reads from a page he can work with his hands  .  fast and efficient  ,  nimble fingers whether they’re flying across a keyboard or fucking around with some screws  .  you can make something of yourself  ,  some of his teachers tell him while others can’t stop bitching about homework or tardiness or the way he falls asleep in the middle of class  .  but what’s siwon supposed to make  ?  he and his ragtag group of weirdos he calls friends  .  when he gets older and nights get hungrier  ,  siwon learns to stop relying on the benevolence of neighbors and finds a job  ---  he’s fast  ,  after all  ,  with a sweet face and wide eyes  ,  makes a helluva getaway after years and years of running  .  

       thieving’s a natural grift  .  he’d been training for this his whole life  .  then he catches the eyes of a boss man who isn’t nearly as mad as he should be catching some kid with his wallet in his hands  .  courier comes next  ,  ferrying messages from a bunch of suits all over the city  .  siwon never opened the packages  ,  never second guesses the credits that start bloating his account  .  desperate  ,  he does what he’s told and does it well ------ and that’s the real kicker  ,  isn’t it  ?  that after a year and some-odd months of dedicated service they leave him high and dry with some bullshit he doesn’t have any involvement with  .  after years of running  ,  boys in blue finally catch him and he’s left to take the fall of some dumb fuckery  ,  man  ,  and he’s pissed  .  steaming in jail  ,  it’s a wonder some other gang didn’t get to him first  .  the longer he sat and talked with that ghoul member  ,  the more he grew to despise the rich  ,  the ones who left him to rot after all the shit he did for them  .  what was even the point anymore  ?  dog eat dog kind of bullshit  ,  no sense of loyalty or shit anywhere  .  the law and all that money was out to get him from the beginning and siwon had enough of it  .  a few months locked up but he learned and leaned and learned  ,  only able to get out on a technicality  .  the second he stepped back out into the sun  ,  siwon followed the map given to him and signed up for the ghouls  .  city of light be damned  .  the only lights he wants to see are flames eating this hellhole alive  .

                    ☣  ;  𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  .

➤  full name.  ryu si-won ➤  date of birth.  january 29th ➤  hometown.  city of light ➤  gender.  cis male ➤  affiliation.  ghouls  ➤  primary occupation.  drug runner  ,  pickpocket  ➤  secondary occupation.  network manager at an internet cafe 

➤  sexual attraction.  pansexual ➤  romantic attraction.  panromantic ➤  character alignment.  chaotic neutral ➤  personality type.  enfp ➤  temperament.  sanguine ➤  wants.  power  ,  family

       stands around 5′11  .  broad shoulders  ,  slim hips  .  floppy  ,  messy hair and sun browned skin  .  half legs  .  a few pieces of silver in his ears and a small hoop on his bottom lip  .  dresses somewhere between a washed up rockstar  ,  your college weed dealer  ,  and a miami vice reject  .  style’s a whim with a closet’s chaotic mix of anything he thrifts or patches together  .  most of the time he’s sporting cuffed jeans  ,  vintage blouse  ,  a denim jacket or tweed blazer and thick ass boots  .  keeps all that hair back with a bandanna or a headband  ,  hair ties on his wrist  .  nothing in his closet’s technically new and he loves looking for a bargain steal —— or simply just a steal  .  likes colors just as much as he likes his neutrals  .  wears a black air filtration mask and fingerless gloves  .  considers his floral button-up shirts fancy material and his trousers cut off at the ankles  .  likes the smell of old leather and the breathing of fringe on a jacket  ,  the weight of heavy rings on his fingers and sunglasses swooped low on his nose  .  wears a monocle because he can’t be fucked with reading glasses  .   his hair’s been every color of the rainbow and he’s always changing it up thanks to temporary dye  .

                                    ☣  ;  𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄  .

       hustles at arcade halls  ,  scarfs down ramen and burritos like they’re gonna disappear  ,  looks as comfortable in a dark  ,  dirty alley as he does standing under all those lights in the neon district  .  pockets full of candy and a lollipop between his lips  .  likes cheap beer and cigarettes  ,  fast talking and smooth smiles  .  gets up when the sun goes down  .  who knows if he ever gets a full night’s sleep  ,  but you can find him taking a nap just about anywhere  .  seems to live for the dark hours and stays busy as a bee  ,  at the internet cafe one moment and grabbing fried cheese sticks in the next before crossing the bridge to watch the street races and venturing to the tunnels for the fighting rings  .  complains about being broke but puts down bets faster than anyone  .  lives for the feeling of wind in his hair so the window of his top-floor one bedroom shit hole stays open all the time  .  feels the rain on his skin  ,  plays with matches  .   learned how to assemble a gun in less than sixty seconds and stays packing nowadays though he can’t really shoot for shit  .  spray paints boobs on the sides of government buildings and dicks on malls  .  looks like an angel under all those holographic lights  .

       rides a motorbike and his skateboard  .  can do crazy math in his head and spot fake bills with incredible accuracy  .  can barely stand to sit still  ,  always moving except when there’s a computer screen in front of him  .  gets addicted to things so easily it’s scary  ---  people  ,  food  ,  liquor  ,  feelings  .  craves that intimacy  ,  craves that closeness that’s always been denied to him  .  has a loud as fuck laugh and a love for sneaking into places where he doesn’t belong  .  catches extra cash on the side by fixing up broken-down machines and can figure his way around a motor with a bit of elbow grease  .  still sees his family  .  not as much as a good son would  ,  but he sends cash when he can and looks after his younger sister  ,  makes sure she stays well and clean  .  they don’t know half of what he’s gotten up to since he was let out of prison  ,  but they might have some idea --- after all  ,  who’d pay a crooked boy with a record as well as he seems to be  ?  when the sun starts to come up and he crashes into bed  ,  siwon stares out the window and thinks about how in another world  ,  or in another time he probably could’ve been something  .  could’ve made something great  .  but for now he’s just got a whole lot of anger  ,  raw like a fresh wound he can’t stop picking at  .  

                           ☣  ;  𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔  ?

➤  bonds.  my loyalty to my friends is unwavering  ;   i owe everything to my mentor --- a horrible person who’s rotting in jail somewhere  ;  i fleeced the wrong person and must work to ensure this individual never crosses paths with me  . ➤  flaws.  once i pick a goal  ,  i become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life  ;  when I see something valuable  ,  i can't think about anything but how to steal it  ;  i have a weakness for the vices of the city  . 

       he’s friendly  ,  but he doesn’t make friends easily --- the ones that he has made  ,  he’d do anything for  .  because that’s how he’s gotten this far  ,  right  ?  all those people who looked after him when others tried to stomp him out  .  he’s still close with his teen friends who threw a few grifts with him  ,  gaming buddies that he knows only through a screen  .  little escapes from all the other bullshit going on in the world  .  even though he isn’t a club guy  ,  he runs into more than a few faces on his rounds  .  maybe they’re bad influences or sweethearts who help that touch starved affliction that comes from living in a city so wired  .  on the flip side  ,  there’s some enemies --- competitors in the runner world  ,  antagonists he meets at the races or rings for whatever reason  (  insane bets make tempers run hot  ,  who knows when they’ll flare for good and siwon’s learning the hard way how to keep his mouth shut  )  .  he’s fixed up a few cars or weapons for people recently because he misses working with his hands  .  y’know  ,  making nice  .  then there’s people he’s caught in a crossfire with  ,  where they’ve met something nasty one too many times before over turf  ,  territory and clients  .  a newer face to the ghouls  ,  he’s bugged someone into mentoring him  ,  and gone on a few runs with someone he loves to call a coworker  .  

       eager to prove himself as more than a green kid with a keyboard and an eye for detail  ,  find him cutting deals and making trades in smokey barbecue houses  ,  hole-in-the wall ramen shops or by taco tents  .  a full bellied class of clients are happy clients in his opinion  ,  and siwon isn’t above not making deals with the other groups who’s names aren’t violent delights  .  speaking of which  ---  there are definitely some skeletons there he aims to confront  ,  some old demons to fight from that class of people that fucked him over  .  there’s an ex lover in there somewhere  ,  probably met in that pre-prison childhood phase when he mingled past class lines more  ( ~1.5-2 years ago )  .  someone he’s healthily fearful of for whatever reason  ,  and maybe a vendetta against the family that scammed his parents out of their business and basically sent his life spiraling  .  there’s someone who isn’t what they seem  --- he doesn’t know who they really are  ,  and maybe they don’t know who he is  ,  either  .  they’ll learn eventually  .  someone he’s protective over  ,  someone who protects him in ways he doesn’t even know  ,  and those he looks after because they grew up on the same side  .  desperate for connection  ,  desperate for a place  ,  he finds it all in heaven and hell  .

[mylifeinshowtunes]

To Call In Sick (A Rent fic by @mylifeinshowtunes)

Summary: "One month and four weeks since Roger had shut his lips shut for the last time."

(Set before the events of the show, one month after April's death.)

WARNINGS for implicit VIOLENCE, RELIGIOUS SLURS, HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE, implicit references to mental illnesses like DEPRESSION.

Don’t breathe too deep,

A beep floods the bare room.

An alarm set too late into the night, goes off too early in the morning. A gasp, followed by a groan, meets the incessant beeping in the poorly lit room. The thin covers move over a body too tired to switch the beeping off. A pale, freckled hand reaches out and pushes the black button. It blindly searches the bedside table looking for the thick framed glasses.

Mark opens his eyes.

Don’t think all day

It’s early in the morning, but he’s gotten used to it. The clock reads 5.30 AM, which means he has about 20 minutes to get ready before he has to head out in the freezing New York winter. His first shift starts at 6.30 AM, which means that he has just the time to cycle the 7 blocks that divide him from the luncheonette he works at.

Mark starts rising from his bed. Every muscle and bone in his body protesting the shift of position. His breath is caught in his throat and he has to fight against the buzzing in his head while dark spots float in his field of vision.

Dive into work

His shift at the cafe ends at 11.30 PM. He has a 45 minute long break, and at 12.15 he is back behind the counter. When he had first gotten the job he used the time to film, but his passion was quickly brought to an end after his first week and a half: he had been so worn out by his work that he had fallen into a deep slumber at the back of the cafe. Nobody told him anything so he just kept doing it: it wasn’t like he had any money to buy lunch with.

Drive the other way

When he is finally done with serving coffee he couldn’t afford to people he didn’t care about, he hops back on his bike to go to his second job. He is a clerk at a pub halfway across the city. His shift starts at 6.30 PM and ends at 12.30 AM.  Although his day job is somewhat bearable, working at the pub is something he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy: he had started considering his day at work a good one when he didn’t have to clean someone’s barf off the floor: otherwise he had gotten used to the constant abuse the rest of the staff reserved for him on a daily basis. They weren’t too far off, after all: he was a “broke-ass faggot kike”, and most of all, he was desperate enough to undergo their words and fists without a single complaint.

Mark exited his room. Light was lazily drowning the main room. The house was silent. But Mark had gotten used to silence.

It had been one month and three week since his voice had become the only one resonating through the walls of the loft.

One month and three weeks since Collins had left in order to work.

One month and four weeks since Roger had shut his lips shut for the last time.

The last sound Mark had heard him make were his sobs and shouts as they discovered April’s body.

Not a sound since then. Not a single fucking sound had pierced through Roger’s self imposed barrier.

He hadn’t cried at the funeral. He had stayed mute as the doctor gave them the results. He hadn’t complained the first time he took AZT. He didn’t say goodbye to Collins as he had left them. He didn’t oppose when Mark found himself a job because the money just wasn’t enough.

He just sat there and stared.

Sat there and stared for hours upon hours, holed up in his room.

He barely slept, sometimes he ate and every once in a while he drank a glass of water.

Mark wasn’t even sure if Roger had noticed his new working hours, but maybe it was better that way. The old Rog would have never approved of him bending to the world of capitalism.

He would have laughed at the mere thought of an occupation.

“Who needs money when you can have this, Marky?”

When you can have what? What they currently had was an empty fridge, some old ruined clothes, covers that were just too thin to keep out a weak wind, HIV and too many damn bills to pay. Everything seemed too expensive: Roger’s meds were expensive, food was expensive, the repairs for his bike were expensive, Roger’s check-ups were expensive.

Loving Roger was expensive, but he didn’t care as long as Roger was fine.

He grabbed a stale piece of bread and chewed on it slowly; his head had been bothering him lately, and he had started feeling weak and faint. There was really no point in worrying, it wasn’t like he could really do much about it: all the food they had, he left for Roger to munch on, all the hours of rest could use, were spent at work, all the medicines they had, he had decided to save up in case of an emergency. He was going to be fine, he wasn’t the one who had a possibly deadly virus roaming in his veins.

Before leaving he checked on Roger. He was happy to see that he was sound asleep under the couple of covers Mark had put on his bed at the beginning of winter. Seeing Roger snoring soundly was relieving: more often than not, Mark would find him with dark bruises under his eyes as he stared into the wall unmoving, but he was finally getting some sleep at last. He grabbed the remains of the the previous night’s dinner (which looked to be simply picked at) and left a clear glass of water next to the all so familiar blue pill, that awaited, in stead of Mark, for Roger’s awakening.

Mark left with a piercing headache, a grumbling stomach, droopy eyes, a dozen of dark bruises scattered on his trembling body, and a smile on his face. Roger was resting: this was going to be a good day.

His day at the cafe was no different than usual. The same weary-eyed clients asked for the same cheap drinks. A couple of students sat in a booth in the corner and he couldn’t help but think about Collins; life had been a little lighter when he was still home with them, but it had gotten to the point where they desperately needed money and Collins, the ever apprehensive father, had been the sacrificial lamb. He remembered his friend’s warm eyes, a small backpack resting by his feet, as they had said their goodbyes. Roger was in his room, and Collins had asked Mark if he was going to be alright. Of course he was going to be alright! He wasn’t the one who was leaving, he wasn’t the sick one. When Mark had told him that, a sad smile answered him and two warm arms enveloped him in a cocoon. He missed Collins, he hoped that he was at least enjoying MIT, and that he was keeping some of the money for himself.

He just hoped he was doing okay and that he was happy. What more was there to ask?

His break came around and his co-worker hurriedly asked him if everything was fine.

“You look pale.”

“Always been, I’m offended you never noticed.”

“Do you even sleep anymore?”

“I was just about to go rest.”

“So you don’t sleep.”

“Of course I do!”

“Listen, you look like you could fall down any second now, just eat this and go home.”

“That’s your lunch, and I can’t just go home.”

“That’s your lunch now, and yes you can, just say you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick.”

He gave him a stern look. Mark brushed him off. He wasn’t sick, Roger was. And Roger needed medicines, which required money to be bought, which made it necessary for him to work.

The second he closed his eyes and rested his head, it was time for him to go back behind the counter.

Three hours later he was back on his bike, with a headache worse than before thanks to two crying children and a white collar who had asked for a latte, “Not a fucking macchiato!”, and had decided that the best was to get the coffee that he had asked for was shouting and half throwing his boiling cup at Mark.

At 6.30 PM he crossed the entrance to the pub. It was half empty as usual: most of the clients started arriving right when he signed off. He put on his apron and went in the small storage room to start his chores. His evening job was menial to say the least: it didn’t get more interesting than restocking the shelfs, cleaning the floor and pointing the way to the bathroom to drunk strangers who could barely remember their own names. It was what most would define as “easy money”, but what Mark would better describe as a “soul sucking waste of time”. But, desperate times, called for desperate measures, and, with that in mind, Mark begun his shift.

After a couple of hours, he was asked to bring to the front a couple of bottles, as the vodka and gin upstairs had been emptied. His head was spinning from restocking: the continuous change of position from crunched down to get the products, to standing, was not helping his faintness. It seemed that the few steps, dividing him from the balcony were the final straw: everything started tilting and his world turned of an inviting black.

A slap was the warm welcome he got to the living world. He was on the ground and he was wet and smelled of the spilled booze on the ground. One of his coworkers was holding him by his collar and shouting something. Everything was buzzing and spots were dancing in his vision.

The second slap managed to bring sound back into his world.

“ - you can’t even fucking carry a couple of bottles, how are you so fuckin’ weak, uh fairy?”

“It’s not like you can pay back those bottles, right fag?”

“You’re just gonna become a whore, yeah? What else could you do to pay all those debts back. You’re probably one already, fucking disgusting.”

“Fucking kike is not even rich, what’s the point of your existence?”

“We’re gonna teach you a lesson about breaking stuff that doesn’t belong to you, you shithead!”

And just like that he couldn’t catch his breath anymore.

Kicks, punches, shoves, spit and names assaulted him from every angle.

There was no escape, no safe position, no nerve that didn’t feel the never ending pain.

He just closed his eyes and let it happen: he was too tired to fight back anyways.

When they were done with him, they unceremoniously threw him out of the backdoor.

The cold pavement and his bike where the only ones who greeted him.

He decided that nobody would mind if he just laid down for a bit.

A gasp, followed by a groan, filled the poorly lit hallway.

Mark woke up aching all over.

His nose was bleeding, his head was spinning, but he decided to head back to the loft.

He had to make sure that Roger was alright and that he had taken his AZT.

Nobody stopped to help him.

Many looked at him sideways and a few in fear.

He didn’t stop, he just carried on walking, ordering his feet to move, sure that if he stopped he would have passed out right there and then.

By some miracle, he found himself in front of their door. He retrieved his keys from his pocket with trembling, unstable, blue hands. He grabbed his bike with all the remaining strength he had and tried to bring it upstairs. Three steps later he had already given up and was clutching the hand rail like a lifeline. At this point it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Their front door was suddenly next to him and he threw his body against the handle to pry it open.

Roger’s green eyes greeted him. The rockstar was standing right outside his room. It looked like he had just come out of the bathroom, and was making his way back to the bed. Mark was happy to see him up. As the director’s smile widened on his lips, so did the singer’s eyes in pure fear.

Mark’s world came crashing down yet again that day, but as he plummeted to the ground he saw Roger’s mouth open.

What was it about that night

Connection, in an isolating age

For once the shadows gave way to light

For once I didn't disengage

He woke to light streaming directly into his face.

His alarm clock was silent, but it looked like it was late in the morning.

His body felt like lead and his head hurt like hell, but the piercing headache didn’t prevent him from hearing a voice from the other room.

It was rough, embarrassed, and uncertain.

“- yeah no, he won’t be coming today. He’s sick. Yeah, will do. Thank you for understanding. I’ll keep you updated. Thank you, bye.”

Notes: Welcome to the author's corner! I really hope you enjoyed my story. I know it's not canonically mentioned Roger's reaction to April's death, and I wanted to explore the possibility of the famous singer staying silent for a period of time. Another big focus of this story (as you may have noticed) is Mark; I wanted to show how he obsesses over things, to the point where he ignores his own health. This time he is obsessing over Roger, and the fact that he needs him to be alright, especially after April. ALSO, the fact that Roger notices Mark's condition, is completely casual, his depression isn't magically gone, he just happened to be in front of the door. This is all folks, if you have any questions ask away, or hit me up on tumblr @mylifeinshowtunes or on AO3  If you feel like it leave a kudo or a comment, they are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading, Cece

[justasipofpassion-blog]

Our First Con! | AnimeFest 2017

Hi! So, almost a month ago a really famous anime con called AnimeFest took place in Brno. It’s the biggest con of its kind in Czech Republic. My sister and I are into anime and series and films and games and this kind of stuff, and she even sews and is a real good crafty person, so we decided we’d make some cosplays and go for it.

I am so excited about this post, because I couldn’t wait to show you the photos and share the precious moments of this festival. Let’s get to it!

AnimeFest always lasts for three days (Friday to Sunday) and so there was a need for us to create three cosplays – I eventually decided to go only for two and spend the Sunday in my normal clothes. This is our cosplay plan:

FRIDAY Me: Viola from RPG indie game The Witch’s House Sis: Ellen from The Witch’s House as well

SATURDAY Me: Misa Amane from Death Note Sis: Junko from Danganronpa

SUNDAY Me: normal clothing (aka Fairy Tail fan No. 5, haha) Sis: Fuwa from Shimoneta

Visit my blog for the photos in full size! Click here.

Friday, 19th May

The first day of the con. One big advantage was that we could stay at the halls of residence of my university, otherwise we would have to look for some cheap accommodation elsewhere in Brno. Another, even bigger advantage of staying at the halls, was that my sister could arrive one day before the con started, and so we were able to pick up the AnimeFest visitor-bracelets in advance – when we arrived to the exhibition centre the next day, there was a queue for the bracelets even outside the building. We would have waited for one or two hours for sure…

We met up with our cousin Filip and some of his friends. Because this was our first festival of this kind, we were really shy and confused and overwhelmed (in a good way) at the same time. All the cosplayers were so cute and perfect! We spent all day by exploring the humongous area of the exhibition centre. There were a few buildings, where the lectures and workshops took place, then a large area for stands, where you could buy everything from pins, wigs and posters to kitten ears and Japanese snacks. Upstairs there was a gaming area, where you could try out Just Dance, all kinds of games with Oculus, or just borrow a board game and enjoy it with your friends.

I really loved the first day, even though it was a bit scary and full of unknown (and you know me and my fear of crowded areas), but it was very cool as well, because we were in euphoria of all those awesome cosplays we saw. We admired the “advanced” cosplayers, who clearly knew what they were doing when making their cosplay (unlike us, haha).

The guy in the photo is our cousin Filip. 😉

Wrong time period for these sunglasses, Ellen!

Me and Julie as Viola and Ellen from The Witch’s House Photo Credit: Cosplayer.sk

Saturday, 20th May

This day was a bit more planned – we already knew the area and were a bit confident about ourselves. This day I cosplayed Misa Amane and I’m sure you can imagine my excitement when I met people cosplaying other characters from Death Note. I felt like I was a part of something magical, if this makes sense.

Because Misa and Junko are well-known characters, we were stopped all the time by people who wanted a photo – both with us or of us. We felt like children on Christmas Day. It was our first con and our cosplays weren’t perfect, after all. And yet people thought we were kawaii and admired our work. (My sis posts our cosplay photos on Cosplay Amino and people are so lovely there – they all love our stuff.)

The buzzkill of this day was the fact that there was a concert of Kiss band right next to the exhibition centre. And so, Brno was full of the fans – mostly slimy men you’d want to avoid, unfortunately. We went outside of the exhibition centre to get some food and had to face the fact that every. Effin. One. Of these men was staring at our bums or boobs. Which would by quite fine if only they wouldn’t be so damn obvious about it. And in addition to all of this mess, they just wouldn’t shut up and had to comment what they saw. Of course I would normally say something back, but I was too afraid that they would “take action” and wouldn’t leave us alone. And having my sister with me, I just couldn’t afford this. Fortunately we went our separate ways, but let me tell you, I was SO ANGRY. There is no reason to stare and comment a woman’s (or even man’s!) body out loud when she can bloody hear you! I was in the mood to kick some ass in that moment… (Sorry for the language.)

On the happier note: I met the perfect Natsu Dragneel and Gray Fullbuster from Fairy Tail! Of course I had to take a photo of them – they even did the typical pose for me! I can’t describe my excitement with words, haha. Then I met even Juvia, Erza, Lucy, Happy, Wendy and MYSTOGAN! Eeeeeek! (I am obsessed with this anime.)

The thing I loved as well was the piano in the middle of the exhibition centre. Someone would always play it and cosplayers stopped to sing together. It created cosy atmosphere and we all felt like we knew each other for a long time, even though it was the first time we saw each other’s faces…

I met L and Light from Death Note!

Junko and Misa – possible BFFs? Junko doesn’t look too excited about it, though, haha.

I love this photo, their cosplays were too good! (Grell Sutcliff and Undertaker from Kuroshitsuji)

Photo Credit: Cosplayer.sk

Photo Credit: Petr Riedl FOTO

Photo Credit: Focus Felis

Photo Credit: Focus Felis

Sunday, 21st May

On the one hand I felt relieved I could wear “normal clothes” for once – I set a goal of taking photo with all of my favourite cosplayers, now that my appearance is all me. And so I did! The only one I couldn’t find that day was The Arrow. 😦

My sis was a little surprised she was recognised as Fuwa a few times, because the anime Shimoneta isn’t really well-known.

This day was also a day of free hugs (at least for my sister, I tried to hold back, but the huggers always got me anyway, haha). There was one guy dressed in black, having a black ski mask and holding a sign that sayed “SPIRIT OF METAL, FREE HUGS” and every time someone hugged him he screamed “METAL” really loud. It was precious, haha.

Being this the last day of AnimeFest, we did some shopping – I bought three Fairy Tail pins and a Fairy Tail necklace. My sis bought herself some pins as well, two Death the Kid rings and even three posters. The next thing we invested in was four wig caps – really useful and comfortable, which can’t be said about the swimming caps we used till that day… And we had to try Pocky and mochi, of course. (Delicious.)

We left the con at about three o’clock (it was about to end at four), exhausted because the lack of sleep, all the walking and hot weather, but happy. I can say that we are already working on our cosplays for the AnimeFest 2018, haha. (Our big dream is to visit some foreign con, in UK for example! But that’s a long way to go.)

I hope you liked the photos and the post itself! I’d like to thank all the professional photographers, who were so kind and took a few photos of us. I’ll leave their Facebook pages below.

Have a wonderful day! (I’m really happy I’m back to blogging again!)

…

Photo Credit:

Cosplayer.sk

Petr Riedl FOTO

Focus Felis