#good game expo

[nickpeppermint]

To get a Nendoroid is the highest honour creator can receive

And correct me if i'm wrong, but it might be the very first one based on indie animation

Only two episodes, and Digital Circus gained more support than one could ever predict

Indie is THRIVING these days and it's amazing!

[nobigneil]

Look at this gorgeous handmade quilt Allison made for Neil! Follow them on twitter

[ajooples]

I will never shut up about this

[hellonpluto]

Sometimes i get the urge to rewatch ALL of miraculous bc

1) marinette is insane(fun to watch)

2) Alya

3) adrienette interactions(marinette is insane pt 2)

4) MARICHAT 🎉🎉🎉🎉

5) Luka

6) thinking abt how awesome it wouldve been if they had made adrien be more snarky like how chat is

7) drawing characters while im watching bc re-designing is soooo fun when u know what ur doing

8) second-hand embarassment is actually super fun when it's not real people

[cactusdying]

nowak you have to stop.... you smoke too tough...... your swag too different..... your bitch too bad..... they’ll kill you.....

[akiraofthefour]

I am a liar. Apparently the Style Savvy bubble has burst and you can get it for a reasonable price now.

[sloanthewench]

Sega game gear games peek

[dagmartoons]

my sincerest apologies to the people whose feet i stepped on and who had to listen to me screaming my head off at miku expo tonight

[bithablu]

Its about to get real midwestern up in this bitch

I keep seeing people talking about Walz and mentioning that picture from the state fair where he's eating a bucket of cookies.

First of all, those are Sweet Martha's cookies, you philistines, and the reason that they're in a bucket is because they're fucking delicious; you buy a bucket of them because you will EAT a bucket of them. Also- you share them. Usually. Sometimes. Whatever. They're so good!

Secondly, the MN state fair has the most ridiculous food fair food and there is a LOT of it. A little bucket of cookies is nothing compared to deep fried beer on a stick. Or deep fried pickles on a stick. Deep fried ham and cheese omelettes on a stick. Deep fried oreos. Where? Guess. On a fucking stick. A bucket of cookies is quaint compared to some of the bizarre food that people sell there.

Third and last of all (for now), if you think Tim Walz is down to earth and folksy now- just wait a few weeks. There'll be a video of Walz telling Harris that he needs time off the campaign trail because it's state fair time. Then there will be a shit ton of videos of Walz showing off the Great Minnesota Get Together. Look at America's dad checking out the butter sculptures! Ooh! A fishing expo! Is that something deep fried and on a stick? Yes! Yes it is! Ferris wheel. Concerts. Glad handing in front of carnival games. And, of course, a bucket of cookies.

[coffee-cait]

✨5h0p returns Fri Sep 6 @ 8pm Eastern✨

Sorry we couldn't be back in Aug as planned but soon new goodies will be up on the site!

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Temporarily will close Tues Nov 12 to prep for Toronto Game Expo and will be back Mon Nov 18.

Will close for the year on Sun Dec 1 @ 9pm Eastern .

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Also for GTA locals a selection of my goods will be available at Mr. Surprise Scarborough soon! More info to come in the following days!

[the-friendliest-freak]

Misconceptions in TSPUD

Stanley and The Player are separate people. Stanley does not control what he does, only briefly managing to seize control in certain instances (Bucket Escape Pod Ending, Bucket Destroyer Ending, Freedom Ending)

The Narrator isn’t the one in control, you are. The man can’t fix everything with a snap of his fingers, it’s up to you to stop the cycle.

The Narrator doesn’t know Stanley’s not in control. He only finds out in the Not Stanley Ending. As for the Broom Closet Ending? See next point.

Stanley is playing the game. When you click any key, you hear keyboard clicks. On the title screen on the original 2013 game and before the TSP 2 Expo, you see Stanley’s computer with the game’s menu displayed. That’s why there’s miscommunication - you are controlling a man playing a video game where he himself is the protagonist.

Settings Person doesn’t care about Stanley, he cares about you. They talk with you before even starting the game, when you’re not in control of Stanley, they never refer to you as such, and if he cared about Stanley - why did he leave him in the Skip Button Room? Stanley would’ve been completely awake and aware but unable to move the entire time, same thing happened in the Not Stanley Ending.

The Narrator is a prick, a real prick, but he’s not an absolute asshole. You paid for the game, play it, and break it apart, and you’re shocked that he’s upset? Imagine some person breaks into your house, starts tearing everything up, you get mad, and then you’re framed as the asshole.

Adding onto the last point - this shit’s a video game. The Narrator knows he’s not actually leaving you forever in the Hole, or sentencing you to a painful death in the Countdown Ending - it’s a video game. He knows you’ll just reset. He literally says this in the Half-Life 2 mod version of the Games Ending - when he abandons you, he says he expects you to reset the game.

Istg almost all of these come down to the fandom forgetting that it’s a fucking self aware video game

Good news, I’m off my antibiotics now, so I should be a whole lot more patient with the discourse lately.

[angelcakestarlet]

salvatore part 3.0

richie jerimovich x reader

warnings: age gap, cheating (eventually) (guys it's for the plot i swear), drugs mentioned, swearing.

guys this part is gonna be divided into two bc it didn't fit into one post :< they've been posted at the same time, u can find part 3.5 on my acc! thanks 4 all the love cuties <3

most people would call richie an asshole, it was just his nature y'know? how he walked around with that smirk you couldn't wipe off his face, fucking with cousin, trying to 'man the ship' and take control with his abrasive voice and attitude. after you got hired at the beef though, everyone wondered to what extent of an asshole richie really was. carmy and tina were on his ass the most, gifting him a quick smack on the shoulder or upside the head whenever they caught him staring at you, eyes trailing you out the door. they knew he could be an asshole, obviously, but they wondered if he was really the type of guy to take one look at your gleaming eyes and full cheeks and not be able to help himself. everyone in the kitchen called you 'baby', there was no avoiding how obviously young you were. richie knew, of course he knew, the way you looked up at him through your long lashes. the bags under your eyes nowhere near as dark and deep as his or carmy's. you were achingly sweet, and it killed him. when you smiled at him, bidding him his daily 'good morning, richie!' he felt his teeth rot in his mouth. like he wanted to store you away in his pocket and never let anyone ruin that sparkle you held behind your eyes. yet at the same time, if it was up to him, he could be the one to do it. a reminder he felt every time he played with the ring on his left hand. god, he could ruin your life if you let him. it's not like actively wanted to, but whenever he caught a glimpse of the sun hitting your soft skin he felt something intangible. so when you came up behind the alley and sat next to him on your first day, and he saw the way your glossed lips wrapped around his cigarette he knew he couldn't help himself, he wouldn't. he saw it that day, a part of you is sick enough to want this too. from that point on, you play along. his sweet names for you, soft touches, like he wanted to guide you, teach you. 

"tell baby she can't be ringing in the orders all at once, cousin!" carmy yelled over at richie through the expo. "well maybe if you picked up the pace, did the damn system the way it's meant to be done you'd get it done, cousin." richie yells back rolling his eyes, he was being stubborn about all of carmen's new 'rules'. "just tell her, asshole!". richie threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen to find you ringing in orders on the new tablet that only you can seem to figure out. he comes up beside you, gently pulling your hand off the screen. you turn, recognizing richie's strong cigarette and minty aroma. "cousin's being a little bitch so i'm just gonna need you to slow down on ringing in orders. alright, sweetheart?" he nods his head towards you. "oh shit, i'm sorry richie i forgot you guys were short staffed today! if you want i can help back there-" richie chuckles at you stumbling over your words. "no no, don't worry about it, doll. you keep your pretty little self up here-" he grabs your shoulders facing you back towards your tables, "and let me worry about what's going on back there". you let out a small laugh and agree, feeling his big hands gripping your shoulders. "keep raking in those tips, baby!" he yells back as he makes his way back into the kitchen. "yo, you told her, cousin?" carmy questions as richie walks back into the hectic kitchen. "yeah fuck off, she's doing great out there. that face brings in the big bucks man" sydney throws her head back at his words, "richie you can't be saying that! i think even the way you look at her is an HR violation." "syd, fuck off, i am HR" he responds with a cocky tone making sydney roll her eyes.

it was a few days after the day of the game, and the little show richie put on to protect you from some drunk asshole. he had laughed to himself the entire way home, imagining your 'boyfriend' picking you up that night. and every night after work as a matter of fact. how you'd go home to him and lay in bed thinking about richie. his hands, the scruff on his face, the shadow his figure casted over you when he stood behind you, the way his gaze imprinted on you, and the way his voice changed when directed towards you. richie could always clock the want in your eyes, almost like you would surrender yourself to whatever would fall from his mouth. finding out about your boyfriend just confirmed his suspicions; you were just the type of girl who's looking for someone to take good care of her. 

it was the following friday night after a particularly stressful shift at the beef (when wasn't it) and tina had rounded everyone up, convincing everyone to head to the bar. "ugh, but tina i'm all sweaty" you frowned, always wanting to head out looking your best. "baby throw on a dress and some lipstick and i promise you'll look just fine, mija." she came up to you, reaching up to flatten your fly aways with her small hands. "plus who you trying to look good for anyways, richie?" she laughed but then quickly noticed your red face and paused. "what?" you asked slowly with a nervous tinge. "don't tell me you got the hots for richie, girl." she looked at you, eyebrows as crinkled as ever. after your lack of response she let out a long sig, "ay no, niña. i love that boy, i really do but he is bad news. plus baby he's too old for you, my god, and you're too pretty. no no no you stay away from him." she ranted on before you could even get a word in. "no, tina! i don't, I promise!" you exclaimed, she stared unconvinced, "plus i've got a boyfriend". "hmmm, okay, i'm watching you girl. go get ready." her tone still sounded unconvinced, just a bit more at ease knowing you're at least 'taken'. you quickly composed yourself in the dim fluorescent's of the beef's bathroom as everyone made their way to the bar. slapping on some lipstick, your hoops, and trying to manage as much of your hair as you could. "wepa!! look at you, come on let's go before everyone gets drunk by the time we get there" tina pulls you off into her car. 

pt 3.5 up now!!

[nobigneil]

ICONIC. source: Alex Franqueira

[asphalt-cocktail]

Lead Us to Temptation- Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Good Old Fashioned Catholic Guilt

Summary: In the small town of Eden Ridge, you knew several things to be true: church happened every Sunday, the saloon served free lunch with the purchase of a drink on Thursdays, coal miners left work at 7PM sharp, and Bucky Barnes was a man sent from the depths of hell dangling the threat of temptation and sin right in front of your face. All you need to do is reach out and grab it.

Pairing: Outlaw!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Nicknames, heavy religious themes in this chapter, mentions of threatening with a gun and criminal activity, thunder storms, smut, oral f receiving, virginity kink (sorry but also I’m not), arguing, talk of marriage, good old fashioned catholic guilt

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

Read me on AO3

Chapter 1- Precious Lord Take my Hand

Dinner with Bucky in Thunder Creek was… well it could have been better. The dinner itself was lovely, the part that soured it was the big gray storm clouds that created a contrasting line against the bright blue sky. You could feel the humidity weighing the air in the restaurant and feel the sudden drop of pressure along with the cold breeze that blew in with the storm.

April showers did in fact bring May flowers. 

They also forced you to bed down for the night in the local hotel. There was no way you’d be able to make the two hour ride back home and avoid ending up soaked to the bone or having a tree fall on you from the violent winds that whipped. You’d catch your death if you stayed out in this type of weather too long.   

The spring thunderstorm promised the renewal of life to the brown and yellow earth, it brought both anticipation and fear. Fat raindrops fell from the sky, once a bright cloudless shade of green is now a tempest of charcoal gray as heavy storm clouds cover it. The heavy drops of rain were swallowed up by the thirsty ground turning the streets into muddy rivers.

Bucky licked his lips, deep in thought and looked down the street to the hotel. It was only a matter of time before the last rooms were taken by the other visitors in town. He handed you his jacket for you to cover yourself and wrapped an arm around you, sprinting at a leisurely but rushed pace to salvation. Mud splattered up the back of your boots, sticking to your tights and soiling the bottom of your dress. The creaky wooden floor boards just outside the hotel sag and groan under the weight of water as you step into the hotel, wet and shivering like a stray dog. 

You didn't know how, but he’d managed to finesse the last hotel room in town. It was something close to a miracle you thought. Bucky would never tell you that he pressed the barrel of his six shooter deep into the side of the clerk and demanded a room while you looked at the various taxidermied game that hung like trophies on the wall. 

After a nice warm bath your clothes were dry enough for you to pick the dried chunks of mud off the hem of your skirt and brush it off your boots. Since it was night time, you didn't even bother changing back into your petticoat, bodice, and dress. Instead you hid behind the changing screen, mind consumed with the fact that you and Bucky would have to share a bed tonight.

The rain swelled to a great deluge that is enough to drown out the conversations in the hotel lobby, people angry that there are no more rooms left and arguing with the clerk. Outside the trees bend and sway, the weaker branches snapping loudly and falling to the ground. There was no way you’d be able to make it home, not in a storm like this.

Thunder rumbled, low and menacing as you played with the little tie on the front of your chemise. You were scared, scared of what your father would say when you returned in the morning, scared of what Father Liska would say during your confessional. You didn't have to worry about what the women would say at their bible study groups. They already loved to talk about you out of both sides of their mouth. 

You felt exposed in the thin white fabric, it did very little to hide your womanly figure. You’d never been in such a state of undress in front of someone before, not in your entire adult life at least. Nerves flipped in your gut as lightning struck outside, flashing and illuminating the low lit room followed by the low rumble of thunder. 

The changing screen did very little to help you feel less exposed, knowing that all that stood between you and Bucky were a few tall wooden panels. You poked your head around the corner of the screen and saw Bucky’s back to you. He had already stripped down to his cotton drawers and was shedding his shirt. 

Your eyes were drawn to a scar on his shoulder, it emerged from his skin like the smudge of a brush stroke, edges jagged and uneven, the skin taut. The pink hue stood out against Bucky’s tanned skin, starting at his shoulder and tracing the contours and muscle of his arm before it tapered off at the elbow. You could only imagine the terrible memories that came along with it. 

You forced yourself to look away, now distracted by broad planes of his back, built from decades of intensive labor and living off the lam. The muscles rippled with Bucky’s movement tempting you to touch him.The sight made you a bit light headed and your stomach throbbed with an unfamiliar feeling. Stiffly, you stepped out from behind the changing screen. 

The creak of the floor boards under your feet alerted him. He turned, it felt like Bucky’s eyes were going to burn your clothes right off with how hard he was staring. You didn't want to look up and meet his hungry gaze, but you could picture exactly what he looked like as he devoured you. 

“Please stop staring.” You tried to sound biting, but it came out weak. Nervous even. You crossed your arms over your chest to try and allow yourself some modesty. 

In one large step Bucky was in front of you. His hands lightly grasped your arms, and gave them  a light tug. You rested them against the firm planes of his pectorals, “I'm just thinking about all the fun we can have tonight.” He dipped his head, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Just me and you.”

You gasped, breath stolen by his suggestive words. They made your gut twist with nerves. Every God-fearing part of your brain was burned away with a hellfire that warmed your body. You swallowed thick and exhaled through your nose, “I’ve… I’ve never…” you trailed off almost too embarrassed to let the words come out.

Bucky let go of you, hands jumping away like he just touched hot iron. The sudden distance between you both had you feeling exposed, vulnerable even. 

Was it something you said? Did he not want you now? 

“Bucky?” Your voice was meek.

You were a virgin? 

Jesus Christ of course you were a virgin how could he be so stupid. So inconsiderate!

He wanted to skip all of the prose, all the ceremony of courtship and just take you here in this hotel room. He was thinking with his dick and not his brain. You must have been horrified at his advances. 

He sat down on the edge of bed lost in his own head.

“Are you mad at me?” You didn’t know what else to ask. You pull him from the deep recesses of his brain and shattered his heart with the nerve in your voice. 

“God sweetheart,” he huffed and grabbed your arms pulling you close and looked up at you, “Of course not.” His arms wrapped around your waist comfortingly. 

If things were going to continue as they were he had to lay out all his secrets, even the ugly ones. He let out a soft exhale and looked away from you, “Look, if you’re going to be my woman there’s some things I need to tell you first.” 

Well if that was supposed to comfort you it didn’t. It made you more afraid. What was he going to say? He had a secret family in Pennsylvania? He was wanted by the Pinkertons? He was a Protestant? That would truly be the worst out of all three of the options.

You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you were bedded by a Protestant. 

He swallowed hard. Bucky desperately wanted to keep you hidden from his alternative lifestyle “I’m a wanted man babydoll.” His information served as a warning for what you would get yourself into should you continue seeing him. 

His low, gravely tone sent a shiver down your spine and made the hair on your arms stand on end, “What do you mean?” You spoke in a hushed tone. You knew what it meant.

Well at least he wasn’t a Protestant. A criminal you could handle, something that could be forgiven.

“I’m not a good man.” He cleared his throat, his tone was almost pleading, “I’ve done…I do bad things.” He killed people, lied, stole, all without mercy. Bucky was not a nice man, he was mean and callous, calculating and manipulative. “But, Jesus, woman, I'd walk the line for you if it meant I could have you.” But for you, he’d get on his knees and beg for your love. 

It should have made you push him away, seek the closest stagecoach, alert the town sheriff, run for the hills and call the Pinkertons, but hell it made you want him more. The air of danger around Bucky Barnes pulled you, like a moth to a flame, “You don’t have to walk any lines to have me.” You didn't care about his rambling ways. You wanted all of him, all his sins and imperfections. Your head spun with an intoxicating mixture of nerves and excitement, “I’m your woman now?” 

“I don’t sit through Sunday mass for just anyone.” He reminded you. It was true, he’d manage to attend mass with you every Sunday and even stomached the post service lunch your family always had. 

The heavens opened up and rain continued to fall from the sky, spraying the windows in waves. But you didn’t have half a mind to pay any attention to that now. Not when Bucky’s hand was sliding up and gripping the meat of your thigh so close to your butt, “Come on, sweetheart.” Bucky cooed and pressed his face between your breasts and kissed the valley. 

Not when he was doing things like that. 

“Lemme take care of you.” He coaxed your fear of damnation away with a few simple words. You moved, kneeling on either side of him and sitting on his lap, “That’s my girl.” He said softly, resting his hands on your thighs.

He kissed you softly, his beard scratching against your skin. You shyly opened for him, allowing his tongue to move and caress your own. You expected a rugged man like him to be a lot less gentle with you, but he was letting you set the pace tonight. 

You could taste the sweat in his lip and the lingering tobacco from the cigarette he smoked an hour earlier. You relaxed into his touch as his hand slid up and snaked around you deepening the kiss. 

Bucky’s hands roamed up your body, feeling the soft curve of your hips before grabbing your tits. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, noses barely touching, breathing in each other's labored breaths. His thumb brushed over a hardened nipple and you gasped at the foreign sensation, back arching slightly. 

He wanted to watch you, see how your body reacted, see how your brain broke from the pleasure he gave you. His fingers kneaded the flesh of your heavy breasts and he pinched and twisted your nipples until they were sensitive and peaked. 

Your cheeks reddened from embarrassment as he untied the front closure of your shift and pulled open the small split in the front, he kissed your neck then your chest before he pulled the thin white fabric down where it shelved beneath your breasts. You felt indecent. Exposed. 

The cool air chilled you to the bone and made you shiver. Bucky mouthed at the sides of your tits licking and sucking on one and then the other until your back arched and you whined beneath him. 

God if this was how you reacted to him playing with your tits, he couldn’t wait to hear how you sounded when he fucked you. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight, he was a gentleman after all. He couldn’t go having dessert twice in one night now could he? It was a bit too self indulgent for him and maybe too much of a shock for your poor catholic conscience. 

But he was still planning on eating tonight. He was going to absolutely devour you. “Lay down.” You followed his command and moved, laying flat against the lumpy mattress and watched Bucky lay on his stomach and settle between your legs. 

You sat up on your elbows, shuddering as you felt him kiss your thighs, getting dangerously close to your dripping cunt, “What are you going to do?” Your breathing quickened when you saw Bucky lick his lips and draw his lip between his teeth. He nuzzled the apex of your thigh, inhaling the natural heady scent of your arousal. The scent was so distinctly feminine, it made him ravenous. 

“Bucky!” You squeaked, shocked at his behavior. 

“Oh sugar, we haven’t even gotten started.” He said and kissed the top of your mound. In that moment you were certain Bucky Barnes was the serpent in the garden of Eden, beckoning you towards a life filled with sin and temptation, and by god you were going to take his hand and let him lead you there. 

You gasped loudly, feeling the broad flatness of his tongue lick a stripe up your cunt, then back down again and shuttered at the foreign sensation. You flopped back onto the bed and hand immediately knotted itself into his dark hair gripping a fist full of it, hanging on for dear life, “Oh my god.” You huffed in disbelief. His mouth was really down there, licking you, and he was enjoying every moment of it. 

His tongue traced little circles around your clit before he let out a groan and sucked on it, his actions hedonistic and greedy as he continued to indulge. The wet noises that came from between your legs mixed with the overwhelming pleasure that warmed your body and made you feel dizzy.

Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, a thick finger traced around your entrance before he stuffed it inside you. His finger penetrated your cunt, stuffing itself deeper inside you until the knuckle of his hand rested against your slippery skin. He pulled back and quickly added a second, stuffing them back in and curling them against your sinfully wet walls. You felt stuffed to the absolute brim, full with a delicious burn that made your fists clench the cotton sheets of the hotel mattress.

When you finally gained half a brain cell of consciousness you opened your eyes looking down and seeing his face coated in wetness. 

Your wetness.

It coated his chin and cheeks, your thighs, drenched his hand as he fucked you with it. It was like the floodgates of heaven opened up from the Great Deep and the tide swallowed him whole.  

The flat of his tongue found its way back to your clit, rubbing down and making you whine with pleasure. You dug your nails into Bucky’s scalp pulling a satisfied deep groan from your lover's mouth as he continued to devour you.

Bucky’s thumb replaced his mouth and he licked a spot of wetness from your thigh, “I can’t wait to fuck this tight little pussy.” He mumbled and pulled his fingers out, lightly slapping your sensitive, swollen clit. You hissed at the feeling and at his lascivious words before he stuffed you full once more and pressed his thumb against your clit rubbing it in a circle, “You want that?” He asked and you nod your head, “Want me to fuck this tight virgin cunt of yours?” 

God he wanted to split you open, carve a hole for himself deep inside your untouched hole and fuck you stupid. 

“Oh god yes,” you could feel your pussy throb as he continued to beat his fingers into you at a brutal pace and suck hard on your clit, pulling you closer and closer to the edge.

You clenched a fist full of his hair, grinding down onto his face, sloppily trying to meet the rhythm of his hand. The only sober part of your brain was thankful for the thunderous rain that continued to hammer the windows and covered the sounds coming from your hotel room. 

Finally, your back is arching off the mattress, cunt pulsating and squeezing his fingers as he digs them further inside you, rubbing them against your walls and pulling more pleasure from you. Your body trembled, spasming around his fingers, flooding his face. 

Bucky watched you in awe, your body writhing and twisting against the sheets, hair haloed around your head, lips kiss swollen and body flush with arousal. You were absolutely gorgeous. Responsive and gorgeous. He couldn’t let a girl like you go. 

He was going to marry you if it killed him. 

Bucky’s hands slowed and he licked your wetness off the soft skin of your thighs and stomach not wanting to waste a single drop of it before he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on those too groaning like he’d just had a tasty meal. 

Watching him only fed sugar into the fire. You leaned up, pulling him towards you and sloppily kissed him, all tongue and teeth as you pushed down his drawers. Bucky smiled against your mouth and pushed your hands away, pushing you back onto the mattress, “Patience, sweetheart.” He scolded, and then laid next to you sighing with content.

“Aren’t we going to… well you know.” He stared at your confused expression and looked amused, “Have sex?” You finally said it out loud and it felt dirty. It felt like someone had dropped an anvil through the ceiling and it fell on your chest. 

“Not tonight.” He answered, “We’ll work our way there, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“But I thought you said I was your woman” you didn’t know if it was because Bucky gave you an earth shattering orgasm, or what but you were just plain confused now. 

“You are my woman.” He said and pulled you into his side, “One thing at a time love.” He wedged a leg between yours, tangling them together. 

The following morning when you returned to town, braving the mud and fallen tree branches, the doors to the church seemed almost intimidating. You already knew how your father was going to react to your absence from the family home last night. Your brain was wrought with an overwhelming sense of guilt as Bucky took your hands and opened the tall wooden doors. 

Father Liska’s homily only further propelled you into a cavern of guilty unholiness. It was like God himself told the father of what happened last night, of the wanton sin you committed. Laying with a man before marriage? How could you be so foolish? 

“God does permit us to be tempted” Father Liska stood at the pulpit, usually his words of wisdom helped comfort you, “Not so that we fall, but so we grow in holiness,” No, this just made you feel worse, “Temptation forces us to rise up and make a choice for God or to succumb to the devil's temptation.” 

You were going to be sick. 

During the Rite of Peace you couldn’t bear to look at your father as he shook Bucky’s hand, death grip, jaw clenched, a bitter “Christ’s peace be with you.”  

Bucky shook your fathers hand back firmly a smarmy smirk plastered across his face, “Christ’s peace be with you too sir.” 

Then Bucky hugged your mom and kissed her cheek with a smooth “Christ’s peace be with you ma’am” which pissed your dad off too. Everything about Bucky pissed him off. 

Once you were in the privacy of your family home, seated at the dinner table, Bucky next to you, parents on either end of the table, brother and sister-in-law across from the you, you father took it upon himself bring some good old fashioned shame to the table, “You didn’t return home last night.” He said loudly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 

Your mother said his name in a scolding tone, “No I didn’t. I’d have caught my death in that storm.” You sat up a bit straighter. It was true. Traveling two hours back home in the rain in wet clothes would have signed your death warrant. 

“What were your sleeping accommodations like?” He probed further, trying to figure out a way to make you feel even guiltier than you already did. Remind you of the devil's presence in your life and how you succumbed to his temptations. 

“Bucky paid for me to stay at the local inn. Is that what you want to hear from me?” You shot back sharply, “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big mess over it.” You threw your cloth napkin onto the table and pushed your seat back and stood up to leave. 

“Sit down!” Your father snapped, “I’ll not have that disrespectful tone under my roof,” your father spoke sternly and then turned towards Bucky and pointed at him, “And you,” he said dramatically, “Are going to bring nothing but trouble for her and you know it.” 

Bucky rubbed his hands in his trousers and leaned back in his seat, his casual posture contrasting your fathers intensity, “What makes you say that sir?” He was genuinely curious. There was no way your father would have known of his criminal history. Not when they were so far from the last town they’d committed a crime in and even then their faces had been covered. Bucky struck a match and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and waiting for the answer. 

If he wanted to sit through someone pissing and moaning about how he lived his life he’d go talk to his own father, God rest his soul.

“You have no steady work, no land, no history outside of the few months you’ve been here. You parade around with a troupe of delinquents and bring good young women like my daughter down into the cesspit of a life you live. “ 

Bucky licked his lower lip, “With all due respect sir, it isn’t like your lifestyle is any better.” When your father scoffed loudly, throwing his hands up in disbelief, Bucky continued speaking before he could interrupt, “Wrath and greed might serve you well now, but you can’t buy your place in heaven.” 

Your father was greedy, he was like a dragon who sat upon a hoard of black coal and iron, pillaging the Earth, taking what he wanted,  and draining the life force of his workers. There was no way your father didn’t have as many, if not more lives than Bucky. His hands were undoubtedly stained red.

God spoke out, let there be light and your father damned his employees to a life beneath the ground. He probably didn’t even know their names, just the numbers crudely written on their mining helmets that correspond to his payroll ledger. 

“Keep on digging, boy, that’s why you were born.” Born to serve the company, born to keep your fathers pockets fat and their own empty.  It was a cruel, greedy joke that had been said too often. 

Bucky took one more drag of his cigarette before he stubbed it out. You frowned, ultimately this was your mother’s fault, she was the one who had Bucky come by for after service lunch. Now here your father and Bucky were, making a scene in front of God and all his followers, “Now sir, I plan on marrying your daughter sooner or later, so I suggest you get all your acrimony out now because we will be seeing a lot of each other in the future.” 

Your father opened his mouth to speak back and quickly your mother spoke up, “Not another word.” She hissed at him when he opened his mouth to speak back to Bucky, “James, dear, we’re extremely grateful you took care of our daughter. Aren’t we, darling?” 

Your father didn’t answer her question, instead he stared, eyes narrowed at your lover. He didn't want Bucky to marry you. He wanted you to marry a rich, god fearing catholic man from town. Perhaps the son of the livery stable owner and farrier, maybe even the son of the Union Pacific RailRoad representative in town. Not some drifter with a silver tongue.

“It was truly my pleasure ma’am.” Bucky smiled sweetly at your mom. 

Despite Bucky’s statement about taking your hand in marriage at lunch earlier you still couldn't help the internal barrage of guilt your brain waged against your heart. If Bucky was planning to marry you then it wasn't bad, right? You wondered if God could hear your pleas and if he would answer your prayers for clarity. You looked at the walls of your room, dimly lit by lamplight, the crucifix you’d gotten at your communion watching your internal struggle. 

Your revelation was a self confession from the heart-To experience love and be loved was a gift, to sin was to be human. Perhaps love was the holiest form of rebellion, something that burned away dogma leaving something raw and utterly human, something to be forgiven with merciful grace.

Chapter 3- Hell Hath No Fury

[gold-pavilion]

Hanafuda references in Izana & Kakucho

I love how full of references all of Tokyo Revengers is, so here's a thread about the links to hanafuda around Izana and his kingdom!! Cause it's a week till S3 and I'm excited!!

As expected, his earrings are the best place to start from.

So first of all, I'll explain what the hanafuda deck is and which card from it they're representing.

Even though they only contain pictures without any visible numeric value or indicator, hanafuda are playing cards. They surfaced exactly like this in order to avoid prohibitions around gambling way back in the Edo period, when foreign playing cards were banned. These slipped much more easily under the radar.

As such, hanafuda became kind of a discreet symbol of the illegal. Peony cards were a sign of prostitution, for one, and the whole deck was a staple of gambling. Which is why, even though that time passed and hanafuda cards did stay as regular playing cards, it's fun to have the leader of a criminal group wear one. 

Izana's card is the Full Moon, a highly-ranked card within the game (one of the 5 "lights" or "bright cards" which give the most points).

The hanafuda deck is distributed by months, in 12 groups of 4 cards each; each month also has an assigned flower/tree that appears in the 4 cards, visually tying them together. This card of the full moon over the pampa is part of the August set, matching Izana's birthday month!

But the hanafuda references aren't only around him. Moving on to his servant:

Kakucho's name (just Kakucho, mistakenly believed to have a surname due to a faulty fantranslation) is made of the kanji 鶴 (kaku) and 蝶 (chou), which mean "crane" and "butterfly". Both hanafuda cards.

The crane card is part of the January set and is one of the Lights, as it also depicts the sun over the pine trees. Being a Light, getting it alongside the full moon card is really advantageous and can build you some of the most point-earning hands. The butterfly card is part of the June set, depicting butterflies over a peony flower.

Both cranes and butterflies are thematically assigned to Kakucho! Taking a close look at his volume cover outfit, a crane pattern can be seen on the fabric, as well as a butterfly wing shape on the bottom of the jacket. Motifs that Wakui selected carefully for him.

( scan/translated commentary from @yokohamabeans )

What's more… take a look at Izana's recent illustration for the Nov 2023 TR Expo, 'cause it's pretty interesting in this regard.

Aside from the peacock motif and the yin-yang that were used for this outfit, there's a little cameo on the inside of the jacket: a crane. If you zoom in and take a good look at the bird's head, you can tell it apart from the peacocks. And another one, even harder to spot, so tiny that @anantagonist had to point it out to me: a butterfly, right above that.

No other Tenjiku member is linked to hanafuda references (the Haitani brothers have their assigned flowers, neither happens to match the flowers depicted in the deck), but Izana and Kakucho sure are closely linked through it. It's something they alone share.

Isn't it cool? Let me know if you dig this kind of reference-listing posts, 'cause with TR there is so much to dig into.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Based on that post about Charlie is magically turned into a kid. The staff are arguing and Alastor makes his usual snide comments about Vaggie, and Little Charlie kicks his shin and says "Don't be mean to the pwetty lady!"

Oh! That is absolutely precious!!! Yes! Yes! and Triple Yes!

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Vaggie: Lucifer, I'm serious! We need to figure out why Charlie is a toddler. The Princess of Hell can't go from looking like she's in her twenties to being two!

Kid Charlie: (pausing in her headbutt game with Razzle to shout) I'm fwee! (gets headbutted by Razzle and sprawls out on the floor)

Vaggie: Oh, I'm sorry, Charlie. (to Lucifer) A Three Year Old! (swipes her arms in a cutting motion) And I am NOT being labelled as a pedophile because my girlfriend turned into a literal child!

Lucifer: (recording Charlie playing with Razzle with an almost manic amount of giggles) Awwwww, do we have to??? Look how ADORABLE she is!!!

Kid Charlie: (tired of playing headbutts, climbs onto Razzle's back and rides him across the floor) Onward, Razzle!!! To da castle!!!

Razzle: Bap-Baa-Baa-BAAAAAAAP!!! (charges and sprints around the lobby, occasionally jumping and using his wings to stay airborne a little longer)

Vaggie: (heart melts and ovaries pulse before she shakes off the rose colored glasses and growls at Lucifer) Yes, Lucifer. We have to.

Lucifer: (pouting) Awwww.... Alright....

Alastor: (shadows in from nowhere) I heard Lucifer sigh in dismay. What did I miss? (sees Charlie riding Razzle's back and quriks an eyebrow) Well, this is an interesting turn of events.

Vaggie: (groans) Charlie randomly turned into a three year old. We're trying to figure out how to turn her back.

Alastor: (grin widens and turns more menacing) And who will be watching her in that time?

Lucifer: Uh, I literally raised her once already. I think I can manage watching her for a few days while we figure out what's going on.

Vaggie: No offense, Sir, but I think you should put your efforts into figuring out how to turn Charlie back. You have the most magic experience out of all of us.

Lucifer: (Morningstar Puppy Eyes and whimpers like a kicked puppy)

Vaggie: (after building an immunity due to living with Charlie for three years) No. You're working on finding a cure.

Lucifer: (huffs) Fine. (adjusts his hat sassily) You've just fallen from Awesome Future Daughter-In-Law to Moderate Future Daughter-In-Law.

Vaggie: (rolls her eyes) I'll go with you to that rubber duck expo next week if you can figure out how to turn Charlie back.

Lucifer: With the fluffy duckie jam-jams?!

Vaggie: Ugh! Yes! With the duckie pajamas! But you have to get Charlie turned back before then.

Lucifer: Deal! Ho! (does the CA-CHING arm move) I'll have this figured out by the end of the day! Best! Future! Daughter-In-Law! EVER!!! (poofs away in red and gold glitter)

Alastor: Well, now that we have that settled. I'll take young Charlie until then.

Vaggie: The fuck you are!!!

Alastor: Oh? And were you going to watch her? I happen to be wonderful with children!

Vaggie: I've managed to do just fine so far?

Kid Charlie & Razzle: (accidentally ram into the couch) Ow..../ Baaaa...

Alastor: Ah, yes. The epitome of maternal instinct... Or should I say, the poster child for contraception? Leave the nurturing to the professionals, darling, unless you're aiming for 'World's Worst Babysitter' award.

Vaggie: (growls as her eyes glow and her bow turns into horns)

Kid Charlie: (hears the jab, sees Vaggie being super pissed and the self-conscious of her capabilities swirling underneath her bravado, and growls as she runs on all fours towards Allastor; dutifully headbutting him in the shin with her horns) BAAAAAAAP!!!!

Alastor: Ouch! My shin!

Kid Charlie: (stomps Alastor's ankle for good measure)

Alastor: Gah! My fucking ankle!

Kid Charlie: (stomps her foot and points at Alastor with a surprising air of authority) Don't be mean to the pwetty lady!!! (turns to Vaggie as her horns disappear and makes grabby motions) Uppies, Ms. Pwetty Lady, pweeeease?

Vaggie: Pfft! (stops the bout of laughter bubbling in her chest and picks up Charlie, cradling her on her hip) Yeah, Alastor. Be nice to the pwetty lady. And you shouldn't be swearing in front of children. (turns to Charlie) Thank you, sweetie. (kisses Charlie's cheek in a maternal way)

Kid Charlie: Tehehehehehehe! (continues to giggle and blush while acting bashful and hiding her face)