#kind of mirror images of each other in a lot of ways

[whetstonefires]

Thinking about the parallels set up between Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu, and how actually most of them are oddly specious.

The sketch of the backstory lines up, but on close examination they're mirror images.

Wei Wuxian wasn't kicked out of his sect, he left it. Wei Wuxian didn't hate the house he grew up in, he loved it, and getting the people there killed was the absolute last purpose for which his dark powers were ever intended.

Jiang Cheng was no Mo Ziyuan--his jealousy was a complicated thing all twisted up with love, and while he would lash out at Wei Wuxian both as a casual means of shit communication and more damagingly in moments of high tension, he had neither the desire nor the ability to bully him, and in general respected his boundaries almost too well.

When Wei Wuxian destroyed himself about Jiang Cheng, it was to give him cultivation, and protect his life and happiness. He would never have killed him.

Madam Yu was a domineering aunt-like figure, who hated Wei Wuxian for reasons of reputation, and because she had resented his dead mother, but she crucially did not have the power to actually disrupt his lifestyle to any significant extent.

Mo Xuanyu was shut up in a small room to rot; Wei Wuxian didn't even attend classes unless he wanted to. Mo Xuanyu was weak and disliked; Wei Wuxian was brilliant and popular.

Mo Xuanyu's uncle is a cipher of a figure, without character or agency, a nonentity who is resented to death apparently mostly for what he didn't do; in theory he is the master of the house, but he certainly never protected his wife and son's punching bag from them.

And this is what got me thinking along this track: because people keep interpreting Jiang Fengmian as this, as exactly like Mo Xuanyu's nameless uncle, a nonentity who lets his wife make all the decisions, and is contemptible therefore.

He shows up in fic characterized this way all the time, handled narratively as a gap rather than a person, an absence where there should have been a parent, and it's...totally inaccurate? The man only has a few scenes but the things that are most firmly established about him are:

he regularly goes out of his way to protect Wei Wuxian

he's extremely fond of Wei Wuxian

he cares a lot about ethical behavior

he's conflict-avoidant and gentle

he can and will overrule Yu Ziyuan when he's made up his mind, and there's nothing she can do about it

his communication skills are mediocre at best

he doesn't understand jiang cheng

he has a dumb sense of humor

Now almost none of this made it into cql besides point 4 and maybe 6, 5 is technically there but buried by the cinematic framing, so I totally get why the fandom on the whole struggles to characterize him well, and it's easier to write him off.

But it keeps bugging me to see him and Yu Ziyuan squashed into the mold of the Mo, because not only is that boring and reductive and kind-of-missing-the-point, it's like. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's characterization suffers a lot when you alter the environment and take away the influence exerted by their shared father figure.

Jiang Fengmian was Wei Wuxian's primary adult role model and it shows.

Jiang Cheng's relationship to his own sense of ethics is fraught because 'teaching him good ethics' was his dad's number one parenting goal, but they misunderstood each other so badly (partly because Yu Ziyuan kept loudly misinterpreting them to each other, which is so realistic I can't get over it, that's exactly how it works good lord) that Jiang Cheng has a direct association between the concept of 'doing the right thing even when it's hard' and a feeling of personal inadequacy.

The fact that Wei Wuxian got their dad-person's approval for being exactly himself and Jiang Cheng not only couldn't do that, he couldn't even get that same level of approval when he really pushed himself to rise to expectations, because Jiang Fengmian did not intend that warmth as a 'reward,' and so never realized he was withholding it, and therefore misunderstood Jiang Cheng's visible jealousy as a dangerous sense of personal entitlement that had to be carefully restrained, which reinforced his distrust of Jiang-Cheng-the-person and fed into a shitty loop where they were less and less able to relate to one another--that's fantastic. That's so human! I love it so much.

Both their failures are their own but at the same time it would never have gotten so bad if Yu Ziyuan hadn't been interjecting herself in there, in the middle of their relationship, fucking it up. That's family, baby.

I would ofc like if there was more fic engaging with the subtleties of all this because it's so good, mxtx did such elegant work here and it is not sufficiently appreciated. But it's the kind of thing that's hard to write good fic about; I am struggling with it myself.

So mostly I wish there was just more fic that didn't impose Mo Xuanyu's cliche angst backstory on Wei Wuxian, who has a whole different thing going on.

[princedetectives]

ok but really even without all the dramatic au stuff i like doing to them, i really think atlus accidently made one of the most interesting dynamics from what was definitely just supposed to be a cameo. the second coming of the detective prince and he's so different from the first. from how he is you'd maybe expect akechi to not really care about the title or even be kind of bitter about being placed in the shadow of someone else he hasn't even met, but no,

he actively mirrors naoto. this sweater is the only canonically confirmed callback but i've sniffed out others, even down to the way they hold themselves.

like, clothing is one thing that could just be for the public image, but come on. it's part of his SELF image. his status as the second detective prince is vital to his view of himself.

and q2 all but proves he respects naoto deeply. and it all makes sense because he really is proud of being a detective, of course he'd be a fanboy of one of the most well-known young detectives out there. i can imagine he relates to the image he has of naoto a lot.

and it's not like it places him to live up to the achievements of naoto or anything, to a degree maybe yes, but not enough to the point that it's a burden. because he's piggybacking off of his legacy and blowing it out of the water. akechi is FAMOUS, much more than naoto was, i imagine. people would hear about the first detective prince and go, "who? i only know akechi." the title only benefits him, publicly and personally.

and it'd be so interesting if they met, because it's not like one is living in the others' shadow. akechi has to live up to naoto's reputation because he's the successor to naoto's legacy, placed on his shoulders by the force of the public. naoto has to live up to akechi's reputation because he's the new big thing, he's what everyone is interested now, he's who was chosen to succeed him. they live in each others' shadows. it's an ouroboros of reputation.

i just think they're neat. they'd get along too, i bet. they definitely got along in q2! they're the only ones in the whole world who can relate to each others' experiences of growing up as a detective prince. they're both big nerds. they're both competitive. PLEASE imagine placing these two in the same room together. it would be so INTERESTING.

and don't even get me STARTED on how Crow looks a hell of a lot like naoto's persona

[shinestarhwaa]

CLIMBING A MOUNTAIN || SAN

PART 1 OF THE YOURDESIRE.COM SERIES

Genre: Smut

Pairing: San x Fem reader

Word Count:3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Sexworker!AU, Sexworker!San, dom!San, strength kink, creampie, praise, orgasm control, bath sex, aftercare, handjob, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, doggystyle, dirty language, petnames, bigdick!San

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar

ENJOY!

A bottle of wine on a late Saturday night combined with the internet might be certain to lead to trouble. Or a lot of pleasure. You're not entirely sure yet which is the case. It was supposed to just be an innocent scroll through your socials but when you landed on a special Twitter account that got your attention, you stopped. You stared at the username for a while, seeing the header and reading the bio. 'Yourdesire.com', it said, which made your heart flutter ever so slightly. The account was full of pictures and videos of handsome men acting seductively and almost pornographically. No, definitely pornographically.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you placed your laptop on your lap and googled the website. You quickly learned it was a company that provided sexual services. Those men are sexworkers, you concluded. Something inside you told you to close the tab and mind your own business but you felt so intrigued you couldn't help but explore the website a little more.

Soon enough you click on the blue ''Our men'' button and you are met with 8 gorgeous individuals posing sensually. You scanned each of them, noticing that they are all different-looking, some are much taller, some are buff and some have the most filthy looking gaze you've ever seen before.

It's not that you're entirely new to sex; you have done it before. But because of certain circumstances you haven't been dating much and therefore you haven't gotten laid in way too long. Maybe hiring a gigolo was the perfect way to get your needs taken care of, while not having to go out to meet somebody to date.

You scroll down the page and look at the pictures of the guys. Without thinking much more you click on the first man's profile.

Hongjoong - 1998 - Dominant

View Hongjoong's kinks/specialties list.

You released a breath you didn't know you were holding after reading his kinks/specialties list. You swallow thickly and scan the others' pages until you land on San.

San's image makes him look cold, stern, even strict maybe. His body is certainly well taken care of. You could only imagine what it's like to touch his toned, muscular body. He has broad shoulders, big arms and defined abs. His eyes are small and his bone structure is absolutely to die for, his lips full and soft-looking.

When you read about him you learn he identifies as a Dominant, but he's the most gentle and caring one of them all - he values women a lot and wants to provide a setting where he can rock their world but also make them feel safe. This made you smile softly, a warm feeling spreading through your body. It wouldn't do anyone any harm to look further, would it? You decide it won't so you click on his profile.

San - 1999 - Dominant

View San's kinks/specialties list:

Strength kink

Creampie

Orgasm Control

Voyeurism

Bath-/Shower sex

Voyeurism

Aftercare

You could feel your pussy pulse after reading about him and you took another sip of your wine. Before you realized it you were looking at the prices of hiring one of their men and the kind of experiences they offer. You kept telling yourself 'No, don't do it, it's ridiculous', but two glasses of wine later you booked yourself a dinner- and hoteldate with San for next Saturday.

The next morning you realize what you've done, looking at yourself in the mirror. ''I must have gone completely insane,'' you mutter to yourself, but you can't bring yourself to cancel the appointment either. The rest of the week you are filled to the brim with anxiety about it and your friends notice something's off. ''It's just my cycle, I guess, you know, hormones,'' you lie, but it works for them.

When the day finally arrives you have no clue what to wear, because what does one wear on a sexdate with a sexworker? You decide to not do much with your hair, letting it fall loosely on your shoulders. You keep your make-up light and put on a darkred lingerie set. 'It's nothing special, but pretty enough for a date' you convince yourself. After about 30 minutes of trying on different clothes you end up wearing a long, fitted black dress since your friends always tell you, you look absolutely snatched in it. And well, they're not wrong. You finalize the look with black heels and some accessories before grabbing your purse, leaving your house.

Your body is shaking while you drive to the hotel. You wonder if your friends would judge you for doing this. Would they think this is weird? Is this actually weird? You know there's no turning back now, since you can't cancel 10 minutes beforehand. With slight shame you look into the rearview mirror and look into your own eyes. There's no turning back now, you realize, you have to own it and enjoy it.

With a partly fake confidence you enter the hotel and enter the luxurious lounge, where you are supposed to meet San. You look around and the place is absolutely gorgeous. Dark floortiles reflect the large amount of lighting on the walls and ceiling. You see businessmen left and right, looking seemingly rich and equally busy with their calls. You wonder how many of them were also hiring a sexworker.

Suddenly you feel a light tap on your shoulder - to which you turn around. ''Miss Y/N?''

You felt your heart stop beating at that very moment, because holy fucking shit, the most handsome man on earth is standing right in front of you. ''Hi, it's nice to meet you, I'm San,'' he says with a kind smile. You shake his hand and nodd, still a little in shock. ''How did you know it was me?'' you wonder out loud. He grins softly. ''Because while discussing the arrangement you had to clarify what you look like and I've seen the photo. Although I have to say you're even more attractive in real life, if that's even possible.''

Everything about San was breathtaking, from his looks to his way with words. ''Let me guide you to our table, I hope you're hungry, the food is lovely here,'' he says with a gentle smile, and he carefully lays his hand on your lower back. You nodd and let him guide you to the table, where he takes place across from you.

After placing your order he looks you up and down. You're feeling slightly nervous, and he quickly picks up on it. ''Is this your first time having an appointment like this?'' he asks. ''Is it that obvious?'' you grin nervously. ''A little, but don't worry, it's completely fine. All I care about is that you're comfortable with me, then we're all good.''

San definitely succeeded in making you comfortable throughout the dinner date, he asked questions about you - not just sexually - and made sure to listen intentively. He occasionally flirted with you and held your hand and it was almost impossible not to fall for him. He was incredibly charming and even cute sometimes.

Since the dinner was paid beforehand, San took your hand and guided you to the elevator. You felt slight anxiety bubble up in your chest, but you pushed it down. San had been so great and gentle with you, you felt like you could definitely trust him.

Now you're standing in the elevator, all alone and suddenly the tension rises. The hand on your back slowly slides down over your ass and you feel his hot breath fan over your neck. ''I can't wait to feel you, darling, I'll make you feel so incredibly good.'' Goosebumps erect from your skin and you swallow thickly. You nod, because that's all you can do when San smirks slightly.

The elevator reaches the 4th floor and you enter the room that was reserved for you two. It was much fancier and bigger than you expected. You first see a large kingsize bed, covered with gorgeous luxury bedding, there's a small lounge and the half-open bathroom where you find a shower and a large walk-in bath created in the floor as if it was a hot spring.

''Wow,'' you sighed softly as you placed your purse on the bedside table, ''It looks absolutely incredible, don't you think?'' ''It truly does, it's gorgeous,'' San says, ''it suits you.'' He gently strokes your rosy cheek with his fingers as he sits you down on the bed.

''You've established you're interested in performing all my specialties, excluding the voyeurism, is that correct?'' San asks, sitting next to you. ''Yes,'' you nod, ''it's not like I'm against it but I haven't had sex in a long time and I just... I need some time.'' San chuckles at your shyness and strokes your hair caringly. ''You don't have to explain yourself to me, dear. Any way, if at any time you want me to pause or stop, tell me and we will pause or stop. Do you have any more questions?'' You shake your head. ''Please use your words with me, dear, I need verbal clarification.'' You shake your head again, muttering a soft ''no''.

''Perfect, let's get started then, dear.''

He pulls you a little closer and lifts up your chin with his fingers. ''Can I kiss you, Y/N?'' ''Yes, please,'' you say, leaning into him. San presses his lips to yours in a smooth motion. His lips are soft and his movements tender, but the grip of his hand on your upper thigh is firm, enough to slightly startle you.

You moved your arms around his neck as he laid you down on your back. His hands roamed over your thigh, down to your calf and ankle. San pulls away from the kiss and you pant softly, looking at him with full anticipation, your mind dizzy. He gently kissed your ankles before slipping off your heels. His hands move up again, along your hips and your sides, stopping to cup just underneath your breasts.

''You look so delicious angel,'' he grunts as he presses kisses over your chest and the top of your breasts. He helps you get up before he unzips your dress. You feel the way it slides down your legs and pool at your feet. You feel much more vulnerable now, noticing he's still fully clothed.

''I wanna see you too, San,'' you pant softly when you feel his lips in your neck, sucking on your skin gently. ''You wanna see me, baby? You got it.'' He smirks as he takes off his jacket, waistcoat and slowly unbuttons his white shirt, revealing his toned abs. You sit down and feel your throat go dry at the sight of his sculpted god-like body.

''How's that baby? Does that look like something you can get used to?'' he smirks. ''God, yes, definitely,'' you sigh, before laying your hands on him. When you place your hands on his abs you realize his cock is already half-hard. The desire to suck a man off has never been stronger than tonight, but San seems to have other plans as he gets on his knees in front of you.

His skilled fingers trail up your thigh and curl around the fabric of your panties, yanking them down and tossing them to the other side of the room. ''Look at that, what a perfect pussy,'' he praises as he settles himself between your thighs. Instinctively you try to close your legs out of embarrassment, but San is unbelievable strong and he keeps them parted.

''Don't you want me to play with that pretty pussy of yours, angel?'' ''N-No, I do, I really do, please,'' you cry out when you feel his breath fan over your sensitive wetness. When San's mouth makes contact with your sex you throw your head back and moan. He's literally 3 seconds in and you're already so disheveled.

His fingers skim over your thighs while his lips close around your sensitive bud, giving it a few soft sucks and kitten licks to test you. Even the feather-light touches are driving you crazy, and you think if he doesn't start to properly eat your pussy you'll go absolutely feral. ''Please, San, please,'' you whine out.

''Okay baby, don't worry, you don't have to beg, I'm here for you, angel, you're doing so well,'' he smiles before diving between your legs again. San starts to lick your sensitive clit, leaving small kisses across your sex, before diving his tongue in again, and God you could feel him everywhere.

You felt tingles throughout your body, your entire being responding to San pleasuring you. You're starting to think that stumbling on Yourdesire.com was the best thing that could've ever happened to you, just from his oral alone. It makes you wonder if he would fuck you as good as he eats you.

You let out nothing but loud moans, not having to fake anything, just letting all your inhabitions go. For the first time in your life you felt truly understood, truly taken care off. ''That's it, that's so fucking good,'' you whimper. He' takes his time's thorough with his work, every flick and twist of his tongue feeling deliciously good and evil all at once.

San took his time - unlike most men would - and spent over 10 minutes between your legs before finally pulling away and regaining his breath. San looks somewhat disheveled himself when he pulls away, looking pleased and fucked out just from eating your pussy for a while.

You feel his fingers skim through your folds before pushing two of his digits inside. You whine when he fingerfucks you with slow strokes, curling his fingers just right. He pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy that's gushing with arousal. With every stroke you feel yourself come closer to an orgasm, and San quickly seems to pick up on that.

''That's it baby, you're doing so well for me, are you gonna come for me? Come on my fingers?'' he taunts. You nod and cry out his name, ''S-San! G-God, yes!'' ''Alright princess, I'm going to count down and you're gonna come at one, am I clear?''

You nod again, but you feel like you could burst at any moment, pussy clenching with each thrust of San's fingers. With all the willpower you've got, you hold on, waiting for San to count down.

''Three...,'' he taunts, looking deeply into your eyes as he keeps fingering your wet hole, ''Two...,'' he says, lingering for a moment before coming down to the last number. ''One,'' San says, and in that exact moment your body releases, an enormous wave of pleasure washing over you, making your body tremble uncontrollably as he rocks you through your climax. ''That's it, that's a good girl...'' he whispers as he calms you down. San retracts his fingers and licks them off to clean them, looking at your fucked out state with a content smile.

He stands up and discards his remaining clothes and as you're starting to escape your high, you remember to take off your bra too, leaving both of you completely naked. You eye San up and down, eyes trailing from his toned torso to his bulky thighs and his crotch.

His cock is so thick, heavy balls hanging underneath as it stands up proudly against his stomach. ''Wow,'' you breathe out. San smirks as he comes closer, and you sit up, eye-leveling his cock. You lick your lips before running your hands up and down his muscular thighs.

''What do you want angel? Want me to make you feel good again?'' ''I want you inside... I want you on your back, and I wanna get on top of you,'' you pant. ''Well, that can be arranged, darling,'' he says as he takes place on the bed, laying against the soft, fluffed pillows.

You straddle San and spit in your hand before taking his stiff cock in your hand. You pump it up and down a few times, not because he's not hard enough but because you desperately wanted to touch him before taking him in. San grunts when you jerk him off faster and flick your wrist every now and then. ''That feels so good baby, you're so perfect, so perfect for me,'' he moans.

After letting go of his shaft you hover your pussy above it. With a loud moan you let him fill your tight pussy up completely. His hands hold your hips steady as you start to grind and roll your hips against him. You let out a shaky moan as his cock drags along your walls - still sensitive from your orgasm.

The pleasure quickly becomes too much and as your body gets weaker, San pulls you close against his chest and kisses you. Your lips move together in perfect harmony, swallowing each others moans as you keep grinding on his cock, his pelvis crazing your sensitive clit.

San starts to move his hips along with yours and fucks up into your pussy, earning loud whines from you against his plush lips. San's thrusts become rougher but keeps a steady pace, knowing just how to make you go crazy. He can feel your pussy clench down on his dick and he pulls away from your mouth, moaning out a string of curses.

''You're taking my cock so well, princess, God damn, your pussy's so well behaved huh? Squeezing my cock just right, you want me to come inside you, hm? I'll fill this pussy up with my cum, make it look so pretty and white. Bet you'd like that, hm? Isn't that the perfect reward for my pretty girl?''

All you can respond are merciful pleads and shards of his name. Your breathing becomes so uneven and you feel yourself getting close again when he reaches places no one has ever reached before. His hands grip your ass tight as he drives his cock inside you. ''I can feel you're about to come baby. Hold it, Hold it like the perfect girl you are, hm? Hold it for me baby, just a little longer,'' he orders you.

You try your best, you try so hard to hold on, keep yourself from coming while he fucks you into oblivion. Lucky for you he says the word ''Come,'' and you burst instantly, crashing onto his chest you scream his name and writhe, your orgasm taking over your entire body. With a few more thrusts he empties himself inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.

''That's it, angel, slow breaths, good girl,'' he says as he slows down and then lays you beside him. He gives you a moment to calm down and drink some of the water from the mini fridge before he gets up.

''Where are you going?'' you ask him. ''Follow me, darling,'' he says with a smile, reaching out for your hand. You hold his hand and stand up, legs wobbling as he takes you to the bathroom. You could feel the mixture of his and your own cum trickle down your inner thigh, but decided not to say anything.

The both of you walk down the steps and enter the hot bath that was ready for you. You hum softly when your body gets absorbed by the nice, warm water, feeling more relaxed instantly. San pulls you closer by your hips and pulls you in his lap as he sits down. You feel his half-hard erection slide between your asscheeks, and he groans. ''Oops,'' you giggle.

San smiles and shakes his head, ''You're so cute and sexy, my princess, you know that? I'm having an amazing time with you, you've been taking it all so well, haven't you?'' he praises you. You feel San's lips on your skin, pressing soft kisses over your shoulders.

''Hm, I'd say so, yeah,'' you giggle, grinding your ass back on his cock once more. ''Hm, was it not enough, my angel, does your pussy need a good fucking again?'' He asks, his voice low. San's cock hardens again and you feel him grinding himself between your cheeks. ''Hm, yeah, you should take me again, San, as a reward~'' you say playfully. San definitely can't say no to that, so he orders you to lean on the edge of the bath. You obey him and push your ass up as much as you can for him.

He pumps his dick a few times before sliding it into you with ease. ''God, you're so perfect, taking me instantly,'' he grunts as he leans on you. You feel the heavy weight of his body on yours and moan. You've always loved a strong man, and you love the feeling of having one on top of you.

San holds you in places as he ruthlessly fucks into you. You try to move as you whimper out his name, but you can't go anywhere. San's got you trapped under his body, holding you so tight there's no possibility of escaping. You whine as you try to hold onto him, overwhelmed by his hard thrusts, abusing your hole and making you feel good at the same time.

''Good girl, that's it, taking it perfectly angel,'' he moans, quickly chasing his own release. San fucks you at a pace you're sure is inhumane, and you can't do anything else but moan, moan loudly and let the entire hotel know how insanely good you're being fucked.

With one more rough thrust he combusts, releasing inside of you a second time that night. When he pulls out he lays you on the edge of the tub and makes you spread your legs. He watches your pretty pussy covered in his cum, and rubs your clit just as ruthlessly as he fucked you. You moan loudly and uncontrollably as San gets you to your fastest orgasm you've ever experienced.

After calming down and drying yourselves up San holds you in his arms as you lay on the bed. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he playfully nibbles on them. You love laying in his embrace, taking in his warmth.

''Thank you,'' you breathe out eventually. ''My pleasure,'' he smiles, ''it's my job, but I've certainly enjoyed this.'' You grin. ''I'm glad you did, I loved it too. I definitely needed to just get pleasured again by someone else. It was perfect. And worth every penny,'' you smiled.

After cleaning up and getting dressed you gave San one last kiss before saying your goodbyes. As you drive home he keeps playing on your mind, but your mind also wanders to the other men on the website. Would they be able to pleasure you just as much? How different would they be? You suppose there is only one way to find out...

[ms-demeanor]

Do you know of any resources for physical film photo manipulation? Not sure if there's different terms for non-digital stuff, but I'm having a hard time finding anything.

Okay so there are, I'm going to say (casually, informally, and inexpertly - photography experts feel free to correct me or add on to what I've missed), four major types of photo manipulation that are common with non-digital photography. They are: exposure manipulation, compositing, actually photographing weird bullshit, and just straight up painting.

Exposure manipulation gets you things like Ansel Adams "Moonrise." This is what it looks like if it's evenly exposed:

And this is what it looks like with significant modifications to the exposure:

That is. Like. SEVERAL layers of different exposures for the final print. This can be achieved through processes called "dodging" and "burning." "Dodging" is creating a physical mask so that the parts of the negative you want to remain darker are exposed to less light. "Burning" is creating a physical mask so that the areas you the negative you want to be brighter are exposed to more light.

This is a process that is really, really easy to do in photoshop, and really really hard to do in film.

Here is a very comprehensive writeup of how to dodge and burn, and why you might want to.

Compositing is a fancy way of saying "copy/paste". But more so. And with more techniques. Compositing is basically combining two or more images to create one new image. You can do this by making multiple exposures (exposing the negative to light multiple times), splicing film negatives together (physically cutting the negatives and taping pieces to each other), or by combining negatives and prints into a new print. For instance the image below is made up of six different photos, which were composited into a single image by Henry Peach Robinson in 1877.

This is an article written by a photographer who walks you through the process they used to make a composite print in 2020. It involves a lot of planning, cutting, pasting, masking, dodging, and burning. This is a writeup from a photographer who uses a more blunt method of splicing negatives together to create more abstract images.

Actually photographing weird bullshit is what I'm calling "in camera effects." There are all kinds of tricks that you can use while taking a photo to create surreal or magical effects. One that a lot of people know is the speeder in Star Wars:

The floating speeder wasn't achieved through later manipulation of the film, but instead through mirrors hanging in front of the wheels and vaseline smeared on the camera lens to create a blurred effect.

Light painting is perhaps the most commonly used of these kinds of effects:

That's a 6-second exposure, the first three seconds were of the cup and saucer still, then the light was lowered as the cup was lifted and light was swept up when the cup was in place to make it look like it was floating.

The Cottingley Fairy Hoax is one of the best known examples of manipulating photos by just photographing weird bullshit. In 1917, two girls cut pictures of fairies out of a book and took pictures of themselves with the paper fairies propped up in trees, then swore up and down that they actually found fairies.

This seems crude, but hey they couldn't reverse image search the fairies or anything back then. Some of the photos also make good use of forced perspective, which is something that we still use for in-camera manipulations (it was how a lot of Lord of the Rings was filmed in order to make the hobbits look small)

Here's a listicle with a bunch of "hacks" for using your camera and for testing out some types of in-camera effects.

Just Straight Up Painting is what I'm calling photo retouching. It's a bit of an exaggeration to call it "painting" but yeah sometimes it was literally putting paint on negatives or etching away parts of negatives. It's how you end up with photos like this:

Here's an article about retouched photos of Joseph Stalin (maybe the most well known examples of pre-digital photo retouching) and an article about the art of portrait retouching. These examples are relatively subtle, but you can also use these kinds of retouching and airbrush techniques to exaggerate parts of an image or add objects to an image (see the text added to the flag in the article about Stalin).

I can't think of any comprehensive resources offhand, but photographers love to tell you how they pulled of their photos (which is why quite a few of the links above are from photographers discussing process). This is by no means a comprehensive list of non-digital photomanipulation techniques, but hopefully it's enough terminology to get you started on what you're looking for.

[avelera]

Saw someone say that jayce is narcissistic, and maybe media literacy is dying

I think Jayce has an ego, to be clear. But I don't think it's in any way excessive or pathological and indeed, I think he shows a lot of humility given his actual accomplishments. There's a bunch points I could make make on this.

From a story perspective:

Jayce's character arc is a subverted corruption arc and once it's subverted, it launches Viktor's actual corruption arc. But in order for Jayce's subverted arc to work, we have to believe he has a real potential of falling prey to his worst instincts, so we have to truly believe narcissism is a risk for him.

In addition to that, they had meta knowledge of Jayce Giopara, his League counterpart, to set up an expectation of a corruption/narcissism arc, so many people came into the story expecting Jayce to be an asshole. But this is Jayce Talis, not Jayce Giopara and it turns out, they're completely different characters (who would probably hate each other lol).

Arcane and Fortiche do an incredible job in S1 with their sleight of hand with Jayce seeming like an asshole. On the first watch, at least for me, I think I got the surface level of what they were going for, which is being meh to negative on Jayce, seeing mostly his flaws and mistakes.

Like, one example of Fortiche's sleight of hand is the moment Jayce gets on stage is probably the moment he seems most egotistical, most like he's going to start bulldozing Viktor to achieve his own glory. Except he invites Viktor on the stage, and then when Viktor gives him a clear, "No" he very graciously does not push Viktor any further, and then he goes up there and he does what his wiser mentor asked by not pushing a dangerous innovation before it's ready (I actually thing Heimerdinger was in the wrong there). But they also drop the mug over Viktor's face in what seems like a sign of Jayce's corruption but what later turns out to be Viktor's POV of how the Man of Progress image comes between him and Jayce from Viktor's point of view, even though Jayce is constantly reaching out to him and trying to include him. Again, subverted corruption arc, but it's hidden in the details.

Then, on each subsequent rewatch (of MANY) I began to like Jayce a little more, began to look beneath the surface more, and began to see things from his point of view instead of through the surface level direction and blocking of a scene. And the closer I watched/read the more I began to think, "Wait a minute, is this guy actually kind of a sweetheart and most of the "bad" things he did were out of his control??" Then of course, S2 Jayce's arc came in and blew the doors off my heart, but the basis of that character was there from the beginning.

But there are other things Fortiche/Arcane do to make Jayce seem egotistical but which on closer analysis are just sort of... normal things to do or are common with a lot of people from Piltover?

Preening and fixing his tie in a mirror while Viktor does research seems egotistical, it's a way egotistical characters are often signaled in visual arts. But actually, it's pretty normal to try to look your best before an important meeting or event, and the reason he's doing this while Viktor is working is so Jayce can spare Viktor this headache. Jayce would rather be in the lab too! But he goes out there and acts as the face of Hextech because one of them needs to do it. Don't get me wrong, Jayce could also like to look nice, but I think it matters that he's not seeking out a political career, it is literally thrust upon him and then he rises to the occasion.

Jayce is super duper buff, like insanely buff, in a way that feels like it should lead to egotism, but then we learn it's just a natural outcome of the fact he works with his hands. He doesn't really seem to notice it, or try to make use of it. If anything, he tends to cover up his musculature when not working, he wears his suits buttoned to the throat and wrists. His outfits do accentuate his already insane shoulders, but that's actually really a common look in Piltover, Caitlyn's uniform has the same shoulder pauldrons you'll notice. And his outfits are pretty tight which is really just a gift to all of us (lol) but again, is actually just pretty common in all Piltover fashion, people tend to wear form-fitting clothes there.

Jayce is clean-cut and clean shaven in a way that evokes a lot of pretty boy bullies. It makes his face seem extremely punchable, especially when he's mugging for the camera as the Man of Progress. But personally, I take that look as part of his people-pleasing. This does fall more into the headcanon range, but I'd point out that he's a big guy, one of the tallest in the show, with broad shoulders and what could be an intimidating build. But instead of trying to look intimidating, he leans into his boyishness, he tries to look like, "A nice young man."

I'd argue his look is actually him trying not to look threatening, because when he stops giving a fuck post-Anomaly, he stops shaving or cutting his hair and he looks super freakin' intimidating immediately (and hot as hell omg) but like, now he's a big guy with a beard and shaggy hair and he takes up space and you realize how much he's been avoiding taking up space or looking intimidating before that when he very much could at any time.

Look, Jayce is a good looking guy. I do think he has some ego. He takes care of his appearance, he dresses well, and he works at being perceived a certain way. But the idea that he cares about being the Man of Progress or that he is presenting himself for ego reasons is just... footage not found. I think he's got a normal guy level of ego and even is very humble considering what he's accomplished. And I think people are underestimating how much of his apparent "preening" is actually self-effacing and trying to present a polite, deferent image to others (he often stands with his hands behind his back when speaking to someone of higher rank, for example). The clothes he wears in public are mostly uniforms in S1, either an Academy uniform denoting him as an academic, or the House Talis colors to show him as a member of a House, which is how Piltover society functions. He does dress differently in the lab, but I'd argue not in a flashy way.

Anyway, I just like this guy a lot and got carried away rambling about him. I don't want to overcorrect and say he has NO ego but I would say he has a lot LESS ego than S1 Jayce haters would acknowledge.

[karlatakicker]

RUIN SPOILERS!!

i’m very attached to roxanne, and after the dlc i am very attached to cassie too! so here’s my thoughts on the both of them and why their relationship is just so unbelievably special to me

1. it’s implied that they both don’t really have any friends, as sad as it is. Roxanne says to Cassie in their conversation that she thinks that her friends will come to her party this time, which obviously means Cassie’s friends are either nonexistent or aren’t very nice. it’s also implied that Roxanne is disliked by the other children in the pizzaplex because of her desire to win and lack of empathy thus unawareness that children are upset by the idea of losing. so, the idea of them both becoming friends and acknowledging each-other is truly special if they have nobody else.

2. Roxanne’s desire to win on her race track is overridden by her kindness and feelings towards Cassie. in their conversation Roxanne remembers Cassie because she beat her twice on the track, which leads to Roxanne almost sounding proud despite being beaten which she usually expresses anger for. (I’ve been told this doesn’t mean what I think, Number 1 twice refers to Cassie’s birthday, but you can argue that it still shows something between them by the fact Roxanne is willing to say Cassie is Number 1, despite Roxanne constantly wanting to be Number 1.)

3. Cassie’s clear empathy towards Roxanne as her favourite - she pities and feels for Roxanne when she’s crying in the salon. despite seeing the horrid conditions that all the other animatronics are in, Roxanne as Cassie’s favourite is the only one she truly feels for.

4. Roxanne’s infatuation with herself does not inflict with her remembering details about Cassie. Roxy asking about and sharing Cassie’s love of carrot cake (and remembering her birthday) shows an attachment that Roxanne seems to have with no-one else, as thinking of herself does not conflict with thinking of Cassie.

5. in the cutouts of Cassie and Roxanne standing side by side, they’re mirrored. Cassie has similar makeup on to Roxy, and is holding her mirror the exact same way. Cassie wants to be exactly like Roxanne, to the point of copying her actions and being dolled up like her. these images of the two of them are simply to establish a connection between them, so it hurts a lot more when it comes down to de-activating Roxanne.

6. Roxanne, despite being so angered at the idea of not being pretty and being so damaged, has no hesitation in jumping to save Cassie despite possibly getting more damaged or even being completely broken because of it.

7. the line “it has been some time since i saw you last” can be interpreted as Roxanne had thought of Cassie since the last time she had been to the pizzaplex. it makes their reunion all that more heartbreaking because when Roxanne meets her again, it’s for Cassie to deactivate her.

8. Roxanne asking if Cassie had booked her party yet, is essentially Roxy asking if Cassie was going to come back and see her - Cassie, the only kid that Roxy is shown to have a connection with.

9. Cassie stroking Roxanne’s fingers before deactivating her, as if to give her the last comfort she’ll ever feel.

anyway that ends my rant. they’re just so special to me despite them having like 3 interactions. they are the true little sister/big sister animatronic and human pairing we needed. if I don’t get an ending where they’re sitting on the hill eating carrot cake, the developers are going to get a very strongly worded email.

(just to clarify months on from this post, the developers have received a very strongly worded email.)

[writing-zelda-brainrots]

It’s time for me to yap more about Return by Death!Reader. I might do more later, but this is all the brainworms I have for now.

Wild and [Name] are kind of like mirror images of each other: both feeling like they failed when they were needed the most, both feeling like they can’t lose another friend, and a metric assload of self-esteem issues. Where Wild’s issues come from not remembering enough, [Name]’s come from remembering too much. Both of them have had to deal with the expectations that people placed onto them, with Wild having separated himself from his past (to the point where he literally regards his past “self” as a different person), and [Name] still learning to deal with everything.

If we’re going with the assumption that Satella/the Witch of Envy is still the one in control of RbD, then Wars would definitely relate to having a lovesick witch constantly watching you. That is to say, if he ever finds out about it. You might drop some hints that someone is very attached to you in a very much Not HealthyTM way. He doesn’t really like talking about Cia, but he will do so if he thinks that his experiences can help you with your problems. He still won’t go into detail, but it’s still enough to know that he cares and pays attention.

And, yes, I do think that Wars pays a lot of attention to their mental state. I mean, at this point how could he not? And being the nosey person he is (ahem, that time he stole Wild’s vai clothes), he does talk to the others about what they think is going on with [Name]. He’s slowly trying to piece things together, but he can’t really test his theory and asking you is a dead end, so his ideas are still kind of half-baked.

One thing that I left out of the original post (because I couldn’t find a way to organically fit it in there) was that [Name] is actually pretty scared of the Fierce Deity. They still don't even know that FD knows about RbD or that he wants to help them.

Their first ‘real encounter’ involved FD killing [Name] at the end of a failed timeline where everything had gone wrong. In FD’s defence, he did not yet know about RbD and it was really a mercy kill to put them out of their misery so they wouldn’t see what had happened to the rest of the group or face a brutal death at the hands of monsters. Also their body was basically already giving out due to prior wounds.

It was only in a later point in time, where Time was showing Wind his masks, did [Name] see the Deity's mask up close and realize what that thing they saw back then was.

I do think that FD would tell Time about RbD, but I personally think that they can’t communicate unless someone wears the mask. And because Time does not want to use it, that secret stays untold. Also there’s the chance that the curse will activate, even if [Name] is not even taking part in the conversation, so I do think that there’s a bit of hesitation there.

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - part 14.1

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.5k | previous part | masterlist

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: okay babes I’m desperate to get this out bc this part is going to be so fucking long I had to break it up into parts

“Rhys, stop!”

Feyre’s shriek of annoyance draws your attention to the front, your eyes watching Feyre chastise Rhysand for driving almost 30 miles per hour over the speed limit. You and Azriel were in the backseat of Rhys’s car (“It’s a Tesla,” Rhys would correct), Feyre in the front seat making several comments about the way Rhys drives as if he is attempting to murder all of you.

Mor and Cassian drove separately in Cassian’s truck - you and Azriel snickered at their less than covert attempts to be alone in the apartment. The six of you had been about to hit the road when Cassian had ‘forgotten his driving sunglasses’ and Mor had immediately offered to help. Rhys had rolled his eyes, telling Cassian the four of you were going to head off instead of waiting for them.

Rhys’s lake house was about an hour and a half away, so you and Azriel had spent that time in the back mindlessly chatting, showing each other silly videos of mostly cats. Feyre sat in the passenger seat, deeming herself in charge of the music, the three of you not caring what she put on.

Whenever Rhys and Feyre were too preoccupied in their own conversation to notice the two of you, you would slip your hand into one of Azriel’s, playing with his fingers or just squeezing lightly before pulling away.

“When do we think Cassian will show up?” You ask, making eye contact with Rhys in the rearview mirror. He scoffs, turning his eyes back to the road, “no telling. He’ll get hungry eventually, so he’ll probably show up around dinner.”

The six of you met up around two, you and Azriel almost arriving late because of your lunch date taking too long. Neither of you wanted to pretend there wasn’t something between you two, but both of you wanted to wait a bit before telling everyone, causing the two of you to linger in the parking lot for far too long, neither of you wanting to keep up the charade.

The impending deadline didn’t stop him from kissing you as if he were going off to war in the parking lot of the cafe you two went to, though. You could still taste the coffee he had on your tongue.

Feyre sighed, looking out the window, “maybe I shouldn’t have put my bag in his truck.”

You laughed, partly at her melodramatics, partly at how foolish she was to leave her bag in Cassian’s truck, “I don’t think you’re seeing that bag for a while, Fey.”

She turns her head to look at you, a scowl on her face, “you make it sound like this is my fault.”

“Well, we did put Cassian and Mor in a car together, so maybe the group is at fault. Just be thankful they didn’t pull over and have sex on top of your bag.”

Her scowl deepened, a look of disgust on her features, “my poor bag would never be the same. I would never be the same.”

“You’d have Cassian butt sweat on it.”

“Ewww, stop.”

“Or worse, his butt hair.”

You laugh as Feyre whips her head to scowl at Rhys, “and how do you know about his hairy butt?”

“Cassian spent our teenage years with a new approach to life - he was determined to be naked at any and every opportunity.” You giggle at Azriel’s words, his ears reddening a bit at the attention you were giving him.

“My mother considered kicking him out because he kept walking around naked and standing in the windows.”

You and Feyre giggled at the image, but Rhys continued. “Our neighbors kept calling and complaining. I’m actually not sure how she got him to stop.”

“She probably bribed him. It’s the only way with him.” You quirk an eyebrow at Azriel before he continues, “nothing ever got to him as a kid - yelling, getting in trouble, praising him. But bribery always worked on him.”

You turn to Azriel, pointing your head in the direction of the front seat, “what was Rhys like as a kid.”

Az huffs, “same as now. Spoiled and annoying.”

Rhys glares at him through the rearview mirror, but Az continues. “He was a bit pompous, always talking about how rich his family was.”

You watch Az try to keep from smiling as Feyre laughs, before reaching a hand out to pinch Rhys’s cheek. The movement pings something in your mind, telling you to ask about it later.

“I did not.”

“You once came to school in a helicopter.”

Rhys sinks a bit in his seat, but you file this whole conversation away in a folder of your brain titled ‘ask again later’. You had a vague sense of things you had picked up over time - Rhys’ parents were technically married, but his dad would travel a lot. Rhys’ mother and sister died at some point. Somehow Azriel and Cassian came into the picture.

It was a bit fuzzy, and you never found out why Cassian lived on his own away from Rhys and Az. You had little pieces, but you needed some way to connect the. You filed it away, just allowing yourself to enjoy the car ride.

The ride eventually reached a lull where the two of you sat in the backseat texting each other while Feyre and Rhys talked mindlessly about goats, maybe. You really weren’t sure what was going on up there.

Azriel: did you know all the guys in this town are riddled with disease

Azriel: so you shouldn’t get anywhere near them

Azriel: just to be safe

You: I like disease-riddled men

Azriel: is now a good time to tell you I had chicken pox as a kid

You: oh really?

You: Mmm itchy men

Azriel: I regret this

You: do you have any scars from it?

Azriel: that’s classified

You: I’ll just have to go around searching for them from other men

Azriel: wait no

Azriel: no no no no no

Azriel: this is a joke right

His eyes snap up to you after you refuse to respond to him, and you have to stifle a giggle at the way he’s looking at you.

You: I’m a changed woman. I prefer disease free men now

Azriel: thank god you’ll stay away from Cassian now

You look up at him with wide eyes before you type back furiously.

You: Azriel we share an apartment what do you mean

You: I let him drink my coffee the other day

You: Azzy please tell me you’re joking

You huff as each of your texts is met back with the three dots indicating he was typing. You looked over at him to find him typing random letters before backspacing to allow the dots to stay up.

You: meanie head

Azriel: you’re the one who said you preferred disease riddled men

You: they wouldn’t treat me like this

You: I would be a queen to them

You: me and my disease riddled king

Azriel: that implies you are their diseased queen

The two of you continue trying to stifle giggles as Rhys drives, Az’s hand moving to squeeze your thigh. You’re so distracted by texting him and his hand on your thigh you don’t notice where you are until the car is pulling into a neighborhood of massive houses that could likely fit multiple families with room to spare. You sit up straighter, looking out the window at these multi-dollar houses and wonder if this was a vacation home, what did Rhys’ house look like growing up?

You knew Rhys’s dad’s lake house was going to be a ridiculously large house. You knew that before, you knew that as the car drove through the neighborhood, but pulling up into the driveway it was as if you had completely forgotten. The house was massive - it had to be at least three floors above ground, and the property it was on was large too.

Rhys’ car slows across the long driveway, no other cars around. You have to strain your neck to look at the house in its entirety - it was beautiful - three or four floors, large windows showing off spacious areas on the second and third floors. It was a mix of the classic lakehouse look, but with slightly modern twists to it. All you could think about while looking at it was how long it would take to clean it. Most of your squabbles with Cassian were over whose turn it was to do dishes, and you knew this place would really test your friendship with him if you lived here.

Or maybe he’d just be able to better hide his messes in this house.

“How long would this take to clean?”

Your voice comes out a bit squeaky before you clear your throat, looking over at Az.

“You think Rhys’s dad does his own cleaning?”

Rhys parks his car in the garage, the four of you getting out. Rhys opens the trunk, and you reach out to grab your bags but Azriel beats you to it, slinging your duffle bag over his shoulder. He crinkles his nose at your pout, sticking his tongue out as he walks into the house. You follow after him, taking in how nice his back looked through his shirt.

Azriel heads to the stairs, taking Feyre to her room, but you fall back to take in the living room. You could host a house party in this living room and fit a hundred people easily. You siddle next to Rhys, watching him play with the lid of his coffee in one hand, his phone lit up in the other.

“Are you worried at all about your dad showing up?”

Rhys sips his coffee before answering, “I’d be more shocked than anyone if he showed up here. Az, Cass, and I once spent an entire summer camped out here. Didn’t even catch a glimpse of him.” He shrugs, his face looking indifferent as his phone screen displays the ‘find my friends’ app, and he looks quizzically at the screen, trying to figure out where Cassian was, you presume.

He blows out a breath, “I’m gonna call him.”

You walk away, opting to look at the photos that decorated the walls. The living room is covered in them, all shapes and sizes of frames littered the yellow wall. You see photos of younger versions of Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys, photos from when they were about ten or so until pretty recently, if you had to guess. You can watch them grow, the three of them looking so unsure of themselves at various stages.

The young photos of Azriel are littered with an air of sadness to them, his eyes not quite as bright as they are now, bandages still lingering on his hands for a long time. Azriel’s the smallest in what you think is the first photo, not much more than skin and bones, his now tan skin had a sickly pale hue to it. A woman and a young girl are in the photos with them, the five of them all looking remarkably similar - it’d be very easy to convince others that the two boys were Rhys’s brothers. The photos are all tan skin, dark curls limp in some photos from the ocean water. They are scattered across the wall, no chronological order to them, but if you lined them up you could watch the three of them grow.

The photos made you feel a well of emotion - how someone could be so cruel to someone so small, so defenseless. But as the photos continued and Azriel blended in more with this family, it made you feel so proud of him for opening himself up like that, when all he knew was pain.

He hadn’t told you the extent of his childhood - just that his family was awful, he hadn't seen or spoken to them in a decade, and his step brothers burned his hands. But the pictures of this small, helpless boy looking so lost at the lake spoke volumes for him.

Rhys put the phone down from his ear as he hung up. “They’ll meet us at the restaurant for dinner. He muttered something about a pit stop before hanging up on me.”

He gazes at the photos as he stands next to you, his eyes landing on the one you’ve been staring at. It involved a very young Azriel, fresh bandages adorning his hands. The striking woman was holding him so delicately, as if her arms squeezed him too hard he’d burst in her hold.

“That’s my mom.”

His voice catches you off guard, not expecting much of anything from him. He points at the photo, his finger tapping slightly on the glass.

“She’s beautiful.”

He hums in agreement, “she loved Az. She fought so hard for him. First person to fight for him, really. Spent a shit ton of money getting custody of him.”

That surprises you, but you leave it there for now, keeping your eyes on her smiling face. His gaze lingers on her soft smile, “she loved all of us, but boy did she love Az.”

You watch his mind go somewhere, not wanting to intrude, about to step away when he speaks up again. “That’s my sister. Kaylah.”

His finger moves to a photo nearby, landing on the young girl that Cassian had hoisted on his shoulders.

“She’s cute.”

“She loved bothering Cassian. The two of them butted heads more than any of us combined.” His voice was full of love and nostalgia. “She once got so mad at him she pulled her shoe off and threw it at his head. He was so chuffed he didn’t notice her throw the other, both of them hitting his eyes. He had a black eye for weeks.”

You laugh, “oh my gods, what happened?”

“What happened?” He turned to you, a wide grin on his face, “we got kicked out of the restaurant we were in, and she had the audacity to ask for her shoes back because they landed at another table.” He laughs, a twinkle in his eye you had never seen before. “Oh, Kaylah was something. She always made us laugh.”

“What happened to her?”

Rhys looks down, the twinkle immediately leaving his eye, “she and my mom were hit by a drunk driver when we started school. We- it was a hard time.”

You look over at him, tentatively moving your arms around his waist and hugging him to you.

“I’m sorry.”

He squeezes you back, his citrusy scent filling your nose. “Me too.”

The two of you gaze at the photos, at a time long gone, standing in silence as if an embrace could change the ending for the subjects of the photos.

The moment’s broken by Feyre’s voice, “what’s going on here?”

You turn your face to look at her, head still against Rhys’s chest, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. We’re in love. He’s having my baby.”

She gasps overdramatically, clutching her chest as she puts on a ridiculous voice, “oh my stars! The scandal!”

You giggle as Rhys unwraps himself from you, “we were going to tell everyone while we were here, but it’s true. We’re naming the baby Cassian Junior.”

Feyre breaks her resolve, giggling, “how is it Cassian Junior?”

“Cassian’s adopting him, of course.”

Feyre giggles before coming to the wall of photos, looking too. “Wow, you guys were so little!”

You laugh, “yeah now we have proof Cassian wasn’t born with a six pack.”

“A six pack of beer, maybe.”

Azriel’s voice startled you. How a man so large was so adept at sneaking up on you unaware was impressive. He stopped behind you, but you could feel his warmth through your back.

“That would explain a lot,” Rhys mutters, turning away from the photos and sitting onto the couch. He stretched out his long legs, propping them on the ottoman before him. “That drive took a lot out of me.”

“It was two hours,” you scoff, sitting on a nearby chair. Azriel followed you, sitting in the chair next to you.

“Two hours is a long time.”

“Maybe for a baby,” Feyre coos, sitting next to Rhysand, pinching his cheeks. His hands swat at hers, pushing her away with very little effort. The four of you mindlessly chatter away, Feyre telling you all about something one of her sisters recently did, until Rhys’s phone buzzed again, Mor texting him that they were half an hour away.

The four of you jump back into Rhys’ Tesla, and he rolls down the windows as he drives you all to some restaurant called ‘Mama’s’.

“But ‘Mama’s’ what?” You had asked, to which Rhys and Az shrugged.

“Just ‘Mama’s’.”

You had huffed, accepting the nonanswer for the time being. The windows give you a glimpse of the tax brackets you drove through - starting the journey in multi-million dollar homes occupied during the warm months, the landscape quickly changes to lower and middle class homes for the people who live here year round.

Rhys pulls the car into a small restaurant, fitted with outdoor lighting and seating. It was so homey - a dozen or so people stood around outside, playing some variety of games like checkers and cornhole. A couple dozen more sat at tables, eating what smelled to be the most enticing food ever created. Your stomach rumbles at the smell, and Feyre laughs at you before you poke her in the stomach with an elbow.

You spot Cassian leaning against his car, Mor standing next to him on her phone. He stretches his arms out, huffing, “finally, we’ve been waiting for you!”

Rhys promptly pushes him as he walks past, and Mor giggles as he falters a bit and she falls in line with you and Feyre and you gag at her. “You smell like sex.”

She gasps, “no I do not,” before discreetly smelling her shirt.

“No, you don’t. Made you sniff.”

She rolls her eyes, copying your words in an exaggerated voice.

The six of you find a table, and you’re seated in the middle of the booth with Feyre and Rhys next to you. Azriel sits on the end of the other booth, and you make brief eye contact across the table, sending him a soft smile.

The waitress comes up to your table, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, her black clothes making her eyes pop, her name tag reading ‘Steph’. She looked at all of you, but her eyes stopped on Azriel, her smile growing wider at the sight of him.

“Hi everybody, what can I get you all to drink?”

She takes your drinks orders, rubbing Azriel’s shoulder as she walks away. Cassian laughs at Azriel’s grimace, “I think she likes you, Azzy.”

“Shut up, Cass.”

Azriel looked to you as your friends kept talking, and you offered him a smile back. His face was hard to read, but his eyes looked so sad. You cock your head to the side, trying to figure out what the problem was, but he turned his head away.

Dinner goes by in a blur, the food was delicious, the six of you spent the evening joking around, except for Azriel, who spent most of the meal quiet. The waitress came by to check on you all several times, and her blatant efforts at flirting would have been amusing if it wasn’t completely obvious how uncomfortable it made Azriel. Each time she returned to your table, you would watch him tense up as she approached, her hands always finding their way to his shoulders. On her third stop at your table, she began calling him Muffin.

Rhys paid the check, handing over the receipt to Azriel.

“For you, Muffin.”

Azriel takes it, and from next to him you can see the phone number written beneath the total. His hands crumple it, discarding it before you all made it to the parking lot. He opens your door before heading to the other side of the car after you slide into your seat. You immediately pull out your phone, your texts with Azriel lighting up the backseat.

You: hi Muffin

Azriel: I’m so sorry

You: why? Did you do something?

Azriel: for the waitress?

You: did you do something with the waitress?

You: I did go to the bathroom, maybe you slipped out and made out with her?

You can hear Azriel furiously typing on his phone.

Azriel: no no no no

Azriel: I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry she was hitting on me.

Azriel: I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t want to tell her I had a girlfriend

You: you have a girlfriend?

You: and you’ve been making out with me?

You: you dog

You peak over at him and his face is a deep red. You want to laugh but you feel a little bad about your teasing once you see his fingers shaking, having to backspace several times over misspelled words.

Azriel: I think so

Azriel: I didn’t mean to imply anything

You: so, you don’t have a girlfriend?

Azriel: I don’t know

Azriel: maybe?

You: do you want one?

You: a girlfriend, that is

Azriel: god yes

Azriel: but it has to be a specific girl

You: anyone in mind?

Azriel: I have my eye on someone

Series taglist: @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @impossibelle @hayrunnwr @just-a-social-casualty-1 @thisisew @brieflyclassymortal @glitterypirateduck @marshmummy @bookishbroadwaybish @azsteris @doriansgf @footyandformula @od-anon @judig92 @luvmoo @marina468 @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @acotarobsessed @maryssong23 @acourtofbatboydreams @herondale-lightworm @azrielover @carnelshephard

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading ❣️

[funniestpersonalivefr]

First of all YOU ARE AMAZING i could neverr write like this ,my brain simply can't function when it comes to these stuff, second of all i was fighting the urge to ask you for another older leon x fem reader smut/fluff because i felt like im just gonna be annoying but since i failed to stop myself here it is: "imagine leon has this coworker who he worked with during the alcatraz island incident and managed to develop a crush on her, so after days or weeks of tiptoeing around and aimlessly flirting he finally brings himslef to ask her out and one thing leads to another and BOOM! they have sex" IM SORRY IF THIS SOUNDS CORNY AND CHEESY YOU CAN TOTALLY IGNORE THIS IF YOU WANT SO ANYWAY LOVE YOU BYE

sweetheart

RAHHH IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY STUFF. anyways here's the leon request mwahahaha. nsfw under the cut, mdni. credit to image owner. not proofread and i hope you enjoy, love ya!!

your time at alcatraz was nothing but stressful. you ran around with leon and the others fighting a giant b.o.w. and you were so relieved when everything was over.

the following days you and leon spent the days swamped in paperwork. leon had been especially flirty lately, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't admitting the extra attention gave your butterflies in your stomach like a teenager in love.

how could you not fall for the charming man? he was kind and incredibly attractive but you'd never guess he would feel the same about you. yet there you were, walking into the parking lot with leon as you approached your respected vehicles. the words left his lips seemed to slip out so effortlessly and you felt your heart catch in your throat.

"you outta let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night, if you're free," he says, his low tone brought a warmness into your chest. you look back at him, he's idly standing next to his motorcycle.

"yeah, that sounds great. i'd like that," you say, your tone is soft and shy as you look away. a smile is spread across your lips and leon mirrors with his own face.

your date with leon went extremely well, a nice dinner followed by a motorcycle ride. he was all over you the moment you two had gotten back to your apartment and you were not complaining.

his lips were on your neck as he slammed you into various walls around the house, a trail of clothes following you. usually leon would try to be more of a gentleman but he was completely and utterly obsessed with you.

his crush on you had always been there but something about the alcatraz mission changed it. maybe it was the way you protected all of those around you but his heart fully belonged to you.

your back hits the soft bed, both of you have been stripped down to undergarments and nothing more. his rough calloused hands feel up and down your body, grabbing your boobs. his lips are against yours as your hands tangle in his hair.

leon's bulge presses perfectly between your legs as the two of you grind on each other with desire and need. his touch was gentle as he removed the bra separating him from your tits. your bra was quickly thrown off to the floor, leon's mouth quickly finding its way to your quickly hardening nipple.

his mouth helps to stimulate the bud, letting pleasure rush down your body. you can't help the way your hips buck into his, a groan slips leon's lips and you know you need him inside you right now.

your hands are soon fumbling with his belt, leon catches your wrists stopping you.

"what do you think you're doing sweetheart?" he asks, you whimper out slightly.

"i need you leon, i need you inside me," you say, pleading with him to give you what you want. he can't help but give in to you with the way your glossy eyes look up at him and your beautiful face flushed.

leon lets go of your wrists and you're quick to continue your actions. his clothes join yours and it's not long before he's slipping his fingers in you, stretching you to make sure you can take his cock. you whine out, desperate for his length and leon coos at you.

"be patient now, can't have yourself getting hurt," he says, his tone dripping with sweetness. his fingers start doing a scissor motion and you can't help but moan from his touch.

soon enough your needy cunt is stretched just enough for leon. you can feel him rub his tip through your soaking folds. you prop yourself up and watch as he starts to slide into you, it almost looks like he's disappearing into your pussy.

his movement is slow as he lets you adjust, waiting for you to signal you're ready for more. this signal comes with a roll of your hips. leon starts to thrust into you deeply, his long cock kissing your cervix perfectly.

he continues to plow into you, not sure how long he can last with how deliciously your cunt clenches around him. you're a whiny and moaning mess from how well he's fucking you, and you can feel that familiar pressure building up in your stomach.

leon presses his calloused fingers down to your clit, rubbing it slightly to help push you over the edge. you shudder under his touch as your orgasm approaches, your body shaking as it does. leon's soon spilling his cum into your cunt from the sensation of your squeezing around him.

he's cursing into your ear as his hips sputter, soon pulling out.

"fuck, i didn't mean to-" he says, referring to the cum he just dumped into you. you silence him with a kiss before pulling away.

"i'm on the pill it's fine, plus it was um... it was hot," you admit, looking down. a chuckle leaves his lips as he reaches to your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

"i guess i'll have to do it more, huh sweetheart?" he teases and your face flushes as you roll your eyes. the two of you are completely smitten with each other.

[horse-girl-anthy]

The City and the Self: Or, the Uses of Lesbianism

someone in my server recently asked why Ikuhara seems so hung up on lesbians. I gave a short answer which in hindsight doesn't satisfy me. even this post won't touch on everything, there's plenty more that could be said, but here's a stab at a more complete answer, drawing from RGU specifically, though I think these points generalize to YKA as well.

a long time ago--around 2017, I believe--I posted in the RGU tag, asking about differences between how the western and Japanese fanbases see the show. the answer I got surprised me: I was told a popular fan theory held that Utena and Anthy were the same person. this is confirmed in the interview Ikuhara did with Mari Kotani:

Kotani: How did you think about relationships between two women, like the relationships between Utena and Anthy, Juri Arisugawa and Shiori Takatsuki, and so on? Sometimes it is thought of as one girl and her alter ego. Ikuhara: Yes, that's true of course.

at the time, this didn't make sense to me. now, though I don't take the "alter ego" concept literally, I certainly see where these theorists were coming from.

the very first impression the audience gets of the show, the opening seconds of the theme song, depict Utena and Anthy as mirror images of one another. I can't find the post now, but I once saw someone do a face swap of Utena and Anthy... and there was almost no difference in the final result aside from their eye color. yes, the show has somewhat same-y character designs (pointy chins, noses, etc.), and yes, Utena and Anthy are differentiated by coloring and height. however, there are differences in the facial features of the other characters, including other female characters like Juri and Nanami, meaning that you wouldn't get the same result from face swapping them that you do from face swapping Utena and Anthy.

visually, the show is trying to tell you something: Utena and Anthy are counterparts; not "the same person," in that there are clear contrasts between them, but perhaps different aspects of a single self. to put it another way, they cannot be separated from one another; what happens to one of them will affect the other, and how they relate to each other tells you a lot about how they relate to themselves.

RGU is not the first story to have this premise. I just watched Ingmar Bergman's Persona, which uses two women to tell the story of one woman, and that came out all the way back in 1966. I think that it's possible to do this kind of story with characters of different genders--however, it's most often done with homosexual/homosocial pairings because two people of the same gender are seen as better mirrors to one another.

when I initially gave my response as to why Ikuhara writes a lot of lesbians, I cited the influence of shoujo manga. however, I didn't detail how homosexuality was featured in those manga.

Ikuhara once said that the core theme of shoujo is "self-revelation." he wanted to capture that in RGU, and it seems to have come across. consider Takemiya Keiko's reading of RGU as "A story about independence, about finding oneself. It feels like a story about a girl defining 'what is myself?'"

this journey of self-discovery must involve encounter with the other. part of romance is other-longing, the desire to meet the unknown; love requires a separate entity which is not merely an extension of the self (this is why I don't believe that Utena and Anthy actually are "the same person"). through encountering the other, one can find one's own self, and further, through this encounter, the selves which meet can be transformed.

while plenty of 20th century shoujo did center heterosexual couples, I believe that homosexual and homosocial relations were so prevalent because they facilitated this romance more effectively. on a visual level, a homosexual pairing can create a clearer parallel, as discussed above. for a more thematic angle, RGU's lead writer Enokido has mused that homosexuality removes the issue of "genetic advantage" from the equation; since there is not a clear "survival and reproduction" benefit to homosexuality, it is easier to see it as "pure love." along the same lines, Ikuhara has said that "as soon as you see the destination point of producing children, sex becomes a social system." that's not to say that homosexual couples exist independently from social systems. the point is that writers who wish to pursue the idea of "self-discovery through the other" may wish to do so in the context where the norms of heterosexuality are not an issue, as they could muddy the water.

as an example, take Kaze to Ki no Uta, an influence on RGU. Gilbert and Serge, the lead couple, are very different people. often in conflict, their love ends tragically. that is precisely the power of the story: Serge, who is left alone after Gilbert's death, will live the rest of his life feeling incomplete, unwhole, because he has lost the "other self" by which he came to be defined. in Ikuhara's words, "It’s a story about that which forms the core of an artist - a starvation that can never be satiated."

when done properly, this kind of romance can be very moving, because it is not only a "love story" but also a story about the self and its relationship to the other. and even more potent are stories which are both about "finding one's other self" and about "the city":

Ikuhara: Out of your works, I particularly like the stories about cities... Stories of cities and “one’s other self” are enchanting aren’t they. There are a lot of shoujo mangaka who write about one’s other self, but there aren’t really any who write about cities. I think a story is weak if it only talks about relatives and neighbours and never about cities. In contrast, I think your stories which are simultaneously about cities really bring out their era. I think that allows you to mark out a line for the story of the other self. Takemiya: Personally, I feel at a basic level that stories without a sense of daily life aren’t very interesting. If one thinks of each person as a single cell, then the city becomes the “body”, and one cannot create a world without both. Based on where they live, some people become more modern or more provincial - the environment really plays a role. For me, it is a necessary component.

I agree with this exchange: the best stories about "one's other self" aren't solely about love between two people, but instead love between two people placed in a particular social context. it is that social context which gives the relationship flavor.

this brings us to the other reason that lesbianism (and homosexuality more broadly) is used in Ikuhara's works. not only does it allow him to tell stories about "one's other self," but also to tell stories about social systems. homosexuality is "deviant" within the social system that is set up to produce children in the nuclear family; thus, homosexual couples will face resistence and prejudice. as Ikuhara discussed in this interview, he is not necessarily trying to capture "the lesbian experience" in his works, but rather using lesbianism as an allegory for the sense of being a minority; a person outcast for standing out from the crowd. homosexuality thus allows for a marriage between the themes of "the self" and "the city" which are central to the telling of a great romance.

bringing it full circle, let's take a look at how this plays out in Utena and Anthy's dynamic, specifically the climax of the first arc. in the build up to it, Utena has been insisting that Anthy behave like a "normal girl," and believes she's succeeding in this venture. however, her illusions are crushed when Touga defeats her in the duel called Conviction. Anthy, now his bride, tells Utena that she likes being the Rose Bride and doesn't mind being alone.

Utena's reaction to this is interesting. suddenly, she is obsessed with being a "normal girl" herself, deftly signaling that all along, she was projecting her own conceptions onto Anthy. though she comes to realize this, Utena ultimately decides to duel again; in the episode 11 preview, she says, "Himemiya, wait! I have to try to get the real you and the real me back!" their selves are linked, tied; Utena cannot be herself without Anthy. what's more, the "false self" that Utena presents is linked to Anthy's "false self"--for, despite her words, it is quite difficult to believe that she "enjoys" being the Rose Bride, any more than Utena "enjoys" wearing girl's clothes. after Utena wins the duel called Self, she and Anthy meet again, paralleling the end of the first episode, but when Anthy tries to impart the rules of the rose crest, Utena tells her, "never mind all that, let's just go home." the two share a moment of authenticity, their "false selves" blown away like petals in the wind. they've drawn closer to each other and to who they truly are, while simultaneously gaining a level of independence from the system which seeks to define them by their gender. the rest of the show will play out in the same manner.

----

side note: I don't think that Ikuhara is more fixated on lesbianism than he is on male homosexuality; however, I'm not sure if he's focused on "mirroring" between homosexual males the same way he has between females, despite the fact that his cited inspiration for the way he wrote relationships between girls in RGU is yaoi.

[starsofang]

Finish Line

Street Racer!AU / Part 1

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Returning to the racing world in a new city proves to be futile when one of the racers has it out for you. He's determined to take you down, and you're determined to win.

TW: will be added for future parts, reader has a biker name but does not have a referenced name otherwise

A/N: if you’ve seen blade runner or cyberpunk, those were the vibes i’m going for. but basically all street racer!141 are in this, pray for me <3

The radiant glow of luminescent neons flooded your vision as you lifted yourself off of the bike you’d ridden into town, casting arrays of purples and blue along the span of your skin, reflecting blinding shimmers off of the glossy shine of your bike.

The city was boisterous around you. The streets filled with a variety of people covered in racing gear or alternative twists in their style. All sorts of glitzy colors adorning their bodies, mirroring the image of the neon city and blending them in. Crazy was the best word to describe it. Hectic, maddening hysteria that littered the city like a plague.

You stood in the midst of it all, taking in the booming voices that carried through the air of excited participants in the race that was soon to begin. It was a frenzy even being in the city, and you found yourself sticking to the side of your bike and opting to watch instead of join. After all, you knew nobody, and this was your first race – at least, your first one in a long time, and in a new city on top of that.

You’d never been in a place so lively before, and perhaps that was the appeal to it all. People were excited. They treated street racing like a sport rather than the crime it was. Illegal, unhinged, dangerous.

It was the most life-threatening sport one could get into, and you were one of those unfortunate souls who had a knack for speed.

“Takin’ it all in?” An unfamiliar voice geared its way towards you through the chaos, and when you looked over, you saw an older man with kind eyes and a heavy-set beard. Upon further inspection, you noticed his left leg was purely robotic, all metal and fancy tech, a neon outline tracing along the ridges and curves.

“It’s a lot,” you breathed in response, earning a hum of acknowledgement from the mystery man.

“Sure is,” he agreed, though his wide smile and twinkling eyes made it seem as if he preferred it that way. “You racin’ tonight, doll?”

You glanced over at your bike from beside you. Purple, matching the fluorescent city, and fast as hell when you knew how to control it. “I am. First race in a while. Are you?”

The man chuckled lowly, shaking his head. He tapped his knuckles against the cool metal of his leg, giving you a cheeky smile that poked through the fur on his face. “Can’t race with a leg like this. People might think I’m cheatin’.”

The tone of his voice was teasing, and it brought your own laugh out. “I wouldn’t say it’s cheating. Maybe just a bit of modification, is all.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it eased the original tension that consumed you from the sight of a new crowd in a new city. “I like the way you think, doll. I’m John. John Price.”

Your eyebrows raised at the name, and you stared at him with a look of surprise and awe. His hand was outstretched to shake yours, and when you shook off your initial shock, you reached out to grab it.

John Price. Even in other cities unlike this one, like your own, John Price was a name whispered amongst other racers. A true street racer, one that took win after win like it was easy. In his day and time, he was the best of the best, and if you knew he was in your race, it was promised fate that you would lose to him.

Nobody knew what happened to him after he disappeared from the racing crowd, but judging from the robotic leg, you could piece together the picture.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you greeted politely, your hands clasping together to give each other a firm shake before releasing. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Really?” he hummed in amusement, feigning humility. “Didn’t take it that others knew about me in other cities.”

“How’d you know I wasn’t from here?”

“Oh, I can tell, doll. You looked like a poor lamb walkin’ into a wolf’s den, comin’ here,” he teased, and you shifted on your feet in embarrassment. “No need to fret. I’ll introduce you to a couple of the other racers, get you more acquainted.”

You weren’t sure why he would bother to do so. This race was a competition, and getting to know the other racers you were about to go up against wasn’t exactly in your books for the night. He seemed to recognize the muted confusion, though, because he smiled and beckoned you with a hand to follow him.

“It’s good to know who you’re competin’ against,” he explained as you walked alongside him. Your bike handles were between both of your hands, steering it beside you, too uncertain of the new area to trust anybody to leave it be. “Good to learn their tricks so you can use it against them.”

“Why exactly are you telling me this?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Haven’t had a new racer in a while. Not a promisin’ one, anyway. Forgive me, but I tend to get a bit excited when somebody new joins the races.”

That made sense, you suppose. He didn’t race anymore, so he thrived off of the thrill of every race. If he couldn’t join, he could certainly watch and observe. Price probably knew all of the ins and outs of every street racer without their knowledge.

You followed him down the bustling streets, passing by crowds of colorful people who were nearly bouncing off the walls in anticipation. The looks you got along the way had you uneasy, but most of them were more curious than cruel, taking in the sight of your bike and the flashy, purple protective gear you wore.

Finding yourself at a rundown looking building that was littered with a vivid glow, you entered what appeared to be a garage. It was filled with various other bikes, as well as an insane amount of toolboxes lining the walls with spare parts scattered carelessly.

Propping your bike up with its kickstand, you stood a bit straighter when Price called out to a group of men on the other side of the garage. One was working on a bike, while the other two were lounged lazily on a beat up couch, bickering with one another.

The sound of Price’s voice seemed to send them into immediate submission, and they stood, making their way over to you.

They were… certainly a mixed pack, weren’t they?

The first man you took notice of was decked out in a bright blue that glowed in curvy patterns along his gear. His hair was shaved into a messy mohawk that flopped languidly atop his head, and his smile was crooked and toothy, creasing his eyes into wrinkly crescents.

The second one had a warmth to him, despite the edginess of his gear. It was deep red and meshed well with the tan of his skin, and just like everything else in this city, provided a neon blaze that you swore would cause you to turn blind at some point.

The third one was incredibly off putting. Cold, stiff, and eyes that bore into you like a knife digging in your skin. It was laced over with poison, threatening to invade your veins and taint your bloodstream. His eyes were the only thing you could see, for the rest of his face was covered by a painted balaclava, the mouth of a skull covering his own. Dark and dangerous, a racer you grew wary of when the time came for competing.

“This here is Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. They won’t bite,” Price assured. You highly doubted that.

You gave them a polite nod of your head, and Soap clasped a hand on your shoulder, beaming at you. His smile was nearly as blinding as the rest of the city, and you wondered briefly if it hurt.

“New comer, eh? Ever raced before?” he asked in enthusiastic curiosity.

“Yeah,” you replied, and Gaz released a low whistle. When you shifted your eyes to him, he was looking at your bike.

“Looks like you have a new competitor, Ghost,” Gaz teased. Ghost didn’t seem amused by it, his eyes continuing to stare you down in silent disapproval.

“Unlikely,” he rumbled dryly.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. Ghost was already giving you the information to know you needed to steer clear of him, both on the streets and off. He was competitive, and you could practically see it burning through his irises, like a raging fire that you had no way of putting out.

It was unfortunate that you were also just as competitive. You had your reasons for returning to racing, and you’d be damned if a man like Ghost attempted to sway you off track.

“Guess we’ll have to see, Ghost,” you chirped. His eyes narrowed in warning, pupils near black from the way he was scoping you out and silently pulling you apart in the clouds of his mind. Price snorted at the tension, but made no attempt to stop it. After all, he liked friendly fire – though, this wasn’t exactly as friendly as it was fire.

“Right,” Ghost grunted, cocking his head at you. His posture was menacing, and you would be smart to ease off the high horse, but you didn’t falter. “Don’t exactly think I caught your name.”

“Maze,” you offered.

Of course, everybody in the racing world only ever went by their biker name. Everybody’s had meaning, a reasoning for being called that. Maze was a name that was pinned to you without so much as a say, based on how effortlessly you could maneuver your way through tangled webs of roads and corners in the midst of chaotic races.

Ghost was a name unheard of, and surely, there was a baleful reason for it.

“Maze,” Ghost repeated with a tongue full of smoking venom. “I guess we’ll see, then.”

It was a threat if you ever knew one, and from the way the others remained perfectly unphased by it, a normal one at best. This was who he was, his true colors, dark and gloomy in comparison to the bright vivids that painted over the city.

Before you could say much else, a blaring sound filled the air, sharp and deafening. It was a shrill in your ears, lacing your eardrums with discomfort

Price’s hand clapped on your back and he gave you a promising grin.

“Best to ready yourself up, doll. I’m excited to see you work your magic.”

You hauled your bike back out on the crowded streets, where electrifying voices shocked through the air like a vice. It was overwhelming, but nothing you weren’t used to. Races were the heat of most cities, and many people partook in the frenzy of events with dripping exhilaration, gathering together in a heap of hectic mess to place their bets on who would come out as the victor.

Tugging your helmet over your head didn’t do much to quiet down the noise, but it allowed you a blanket of dull security, giving you a chance to breathe. You prepared yourself by lining your bike with the others, and when you really studied your surroundings, there were dozens. Each and every bike was crafted with their own unique design and theme, and the drivers occupying them were just as otherworldly. You felt almost like an ant in a big world of antsy animals.

Your gloved hands gripped the handles of your bike, tight and tense, and you sucked in a long breath before releasing it, allowing your shoulders to relax.

Looking around, you noticed Soap was perched next to you on his own bike. When he took notice of you, he propped up his visor to show off his eyes, and from the way they crinkled, you could only assume he was grinning at you. His hand lifted, propping up his thumb in a weak attempt to wish you good luck.

You gave one back to be a good sport, but you knew once the alarms went off and flags were raised, this would be a warzone. There was no friendly competition, only bloodshed and battle.

Ghost’s bike was settled somewhere in front of you by a couple of lanes, and you took a moment to read his body language.

He was just as stiff as before, his shoulders pulled taut and his hands gripping the handles so tight, you were sure his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. His bike was as black as his attitude, nearly disappearing in the night if not for the bright lights reflecting off of them, and his gear matched perfectly with it. The helmet he wore mirrored the design of his balaclava you saw him in, with delicate, white swirls painted on to the mouth of the plastic and etching up to the top.

When you looked at him, he was already looking at you. Even under his visor, you could feel the intensity of his stare, like a looming shadow threatening to pull you by the ankle and yank you into a world of suffocating darkness.

You stared back until he turned away, noticing the small head shake he did to himself, but not minding it.

Competition. This was a competition. May the best racer win.

The wait for the call was dreadful. It racked your bones with unnerving anticipation, edging you towards the fall of a cliff, threatening to push you over. It was a game, body rigid in impatience, but when the sound of a gunshot fired through the air, it all melted away, replaced with premeditated determination.

Instantly, the sounds of revving bikes and screeching tires filtered through your helmet and bled into your ears. Your own joined in the mix, hand quick to accelerate your bike in motion, surging you forward. It was a rush of adrenaline, like a drug shooting through your bloodstream, and it willed you into a state of starved aggression.

All thoughts that had plagued your mind were brushed aside and replaced with nothing but the thought of winning. The prize money was a wealthy sum, and that alone was enough to have you weaving in between the other racers, leaning your body forward for some extra leverage.

Buildings passed by you like a quick blink, the various colors whipping by like a flash. Your vision was filled with the backs of other racers ahead of you, as well as the neon signs that littered every street corner, holograms of food and pretty women from the diversity in night business becoming your most perceived line of sight.

The other bikers were brutal. It showed in the way they tried cutting you off with a sharp flick of their bike when they noticed you trailing behind them, your front wheel nearly kissing their back wheel. It was an aggressive fight for dominance, and for a brief moment, you feared you were biting off more than you could chew.

This was an entirely new city, one you weren’t accustomed to, and these were new riders. You didn’t know the streets like you did back at home, nor did you know the layout for shortcuts. You didn’t know how to adjust to the neon oasis that filled your sight with blinding lights.

The only thing you knew how to do was fight back. And fight back you would.

When you saw the opportunity to speed past the racer in front of you, a man in an all orange suit, you took it. There was a gap so small you were crazy to try and fit through it, but you curled your hand around the bike handle, revving forward and sliding past him so he was on your tail.

You hoped that if Price was watching somewhere, he was somewhat impressed.

The twists and turns of the streets were difficult to maneuver, but not impossible. It was definitely a fight to control your bike on the sharp corners that required lots of tilting of your own body weight, but once you made it past the first couple, it proved to be much smoother than you thought.

The more the race went on, the more your muscle memory of riding came back to you, and it was a thrilling fun rather than a daunting spiral. It coursed through your veins like a fever, and the adrenaline pumped through you in earnest, causing you to feel alive.

The back and forth of you weaving in and out of open vessels caused you to end up in second place, and the only racer ahead of you was none other than Ghost. Now, other riders, you were confident in defeating, but Ghost was a lovely challenge.

He had a couple of yards on you, and the way he controlled his bike was a near work of art. He was positively beautiful at it, and now you were starting to understand his biker name.

Ghost, because he could disappear in the shadows of the night, never to be seen again. Nobody could catch up to him, because he was a spirit in the night riding on a cloud of shadows and devilry.

Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew, because your hands revved up one more time, your upper body leaning impossibly forward on the curve of your bike, and you were determined. If nobody could catch up to him, then you wanted to be the first.

Swerving through impossibly small streets and side alleys, he was becoming more clear in your view. If you could get just a little closer, you’d be neck and neck. With the promise of a finish line approaching, you’d have to do it soon.

Bit by bit, your bike gained proximity. You were nearly right by his side, and the sheer power of it all had your heart thumping like bombs in your chest. He was there, right there, and your win was hanging by a thin string.

Ghost’s head whipped over to look at you when he heard the sounds of your engine, and whatever expression he wore under the helmet, you wished you could see it.

As if fueled by anger, he gripped his handles a bit tighter. The two of you waltzed in a dance of back and forth, fighting for the title of victor. The street was a straight shot now, and you could see the faint holographic sign that hung above the finish line, indicating the near end of the race. It glowed at you, taunted you, beckoned you towards it like a siren of the sea. It sang pretty songs to you, desperate to grab hold of you and claim it as theirs.

The two of you were tightly bound together the closer you got, so close you could practically feel the heat of carbon as it left his exhaust. It scorched you like a blazing fire, but it only proved to encourage you more.

You fought and fought for dominance. The crowds of people waiting at the finish line were as crazed as madmen, shouting and waving their arms, desperate to see who would win.

Just as the finish line became approachable, Ghost surged a few mere inches in front of you, as if waiting for the opportunity. It was a warzone when the race ended, and you slowed your bike to a stop. Taking off your helmet, you gasped for air that was stolen from you from the pure, intoxicating adrenaline, glancing up at the lit up scoreboard that glitched with a chromatic listing of all places that racers fell into.

You were second, Ghost was first.

You wanted to win, yes. But second place was as good as they came for the first race, and you were elated.

The sounds of people celebrating nearly tuned out the angry sound of boots stomping your way. You hadn’t even had a chance to get off your bike before a hand was grabbing hold of your shoulder, whipping you around to come face to face with Ghost. His balaclava remained, even under the confines of his helmet that was no longer there, and his eyes were bristling with those same flames from before that had shifted into a dangerous blaze.

“The fuck was that?” he spat, words stabbing into you like daggers.

“A competition,” you replied calmly, perhaps a bit too cockily. “Was it not?”

Ghost leered at you, shoulders dropping and rising with the heavy breaths he took. His hand was curled into a fist in the collar of your gear, keeping you in place. It tightened its hold, and he leaned closer to your face, glaring into you.

“You need to fuckin’ watch yourself, Maze.” He spoke your name like a sin, as if announcing the Devil himself. “Pull that shit again and you won’t live to see another race.”

He promptly let go of your collar, shoving you away in the process. You could do nothing but watch as he stormed off, out of sight and out of mind. Like a Ghost.

[sinning-23]

Twice the Fun (Zoro x Reader x Sanji)

Because i need them both in a way that is concern to feminism and they could literally do whatever they wanted to me (respectfully) ahem. This ones for my sick, freak, nasty, touch-starved bitches It's really just prn with A LITTLE plot yall and a little more attention to detail.

18+ DUH?!

Warnings: Tagteam, creampie, gagging, choking, biting, scratching, p in v, unprotected, degradation, teasing, praising, spanking, double penetration (holy shit this is a lot even for me lol)

Hope yall enjoy (smut is a bit of a specialty of mine)

PART 2 HERE

Ps. PLEASE EXCUSE ANY SPELLING ERRORS!

What were you truly meant to do? Turn down the pair to try and make yourself look like less of a slut than you really were? Well, slut was kind of harsh. We'll say, more sexually inclined.

Yeah, that sounds classier.

Anyway, when Sanji and Zoro approached you in a more physical than verbal way, you couldn't decide whether or not you should say no to try and keep up an image they already saw past, or simply let them Eiffel Tower you. How the hell did you end up in this predicament in the first place???

___3 days ago___

You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you nudge the man beside you. You didn't quite care if he woke up or not, you'd just go to your other 'friends' room to fulfill your insatiable need for dick...and love and affection...but of course, Sanji didn't know that...and neither did Zoro and hell you'd like to keep it that way.

Perfectly balanced...sorta. Part of you feels bad though, you do love him...and Zoro too but damn it you just had to have them both. And with the way that two bicker and act like they can't stand each other, there was a fat chance you'd get your wish.

You nudge Sanji again, pressing soft kisses to his temple, and brushing his hair out of his face. He stirs, eyes slightly opening to reveal a set of lovely blues.

"Good morning. Pussy put you to sleep?" You tease, seeing him smile in recollection of the events of the night prior.

"Its not nice to tease." He groans, sitting up on his elbows and forearms to kiss your lips.

Its sweet, your heart stuttering with guilt. You know he loves you but this whole thing was supposed to be no strings attached. You pull away, noticing a brief hurt behind those eyes you just stared so lustfully into hours ago.

"Hurry up, youve got breakfast to make and I'm pretty sure someones getting a bit suspicious. You chuckle, pointing to the alarm clock.

He swears, shuffling a bit faster to find his briefs, dress pants, and shirt in a hurry. He doesnt forget to kis your temple before he leaves though.

"Come to my room again tonight, yeah?" He asks, and you nod. How could you not?

When you're sure he's long gone, you hide your face in your palms, groaning deeply before gazing into the mirror. Shit...he marked you up worse than before. You roll your eyes, that funny butterfly feeling filling up your stomach again. Damn him for making you love him. This wasn't the first time you'd have to cover up hickeys and it wouldn't be the last.

Your shoes echo down the hall a bit as you pass zoro's room now, curiosity getting the best of you. You crack the door open and there he is, pulling on that same old tan shirt over that damn gorgeous body.

"Good morning." You hum, slipping in and closing the door behind you.

He doesn't respond back, only nods in your direction. Zoro was more...blunt with these things. He thought he'd almost gotten perfect at hiding how he was feeling from you, but you had already clawed your way up and over the walls he put up. Essentially you could see right through him.

Before he can protest about you not knocking, you've got your arms around him in a hug, one he definitely needed seeing as he missed your touch far more than he would admit out loud. In his head, you were his girl. All his. He knew it wasn't true, this...whatever this was, being nothing more than a beneficial friendship. You weren't really his and it tore him up inside. He knows he loves you, but damn it if he admits it.

"Missed me? I see that look in your eyes Roro." You tease, knowing the nick name bothers him in th best way.

"I wish you would quit calling me that." He responds, letting his arms wrap around you to return the embrace, his chin resting atop your head. He needed you bad.

"Coming here tonight? Or do I have to drag you from your quarters to mine?" He smirks, making you laugh and bury your face in his chest. Gods he loved your laugh.

"How could I not?" You respond, swallowing a bit hard, knowing you were wrong for that.

Double booking a dick appointment was a big NO-NO. This leaves too much opportunity for one to find out about the other. But in hindsight, would that really be so bad? You wanted and loved them both, and being sneaky was starting to weigh on your conscience despite not being in an actual relationship with either of them.

"You alright?" He asks, cupping your face with his free hand. You drank up moments like these, it was truly a privilege to see the softer side of Zoro.

You nod, kissing him quick before making your leave.

The rest of the crew is already up and working on odds and ins of the ship. You managed your end of the chores, first mopping, then tying knots, and lastly laundry. You chatted with Nami, hoping a village is coming up soon but no luck.

Damn, the day had really gotten away from you. The sun was already setting and your heart sank to the pit of your goddamn stomach. It's sunset...which means night is right around the corner...

Oh fuck.

You scramble off the front deck and head straight to your quarters, skillfully dodging both Sanji and Zoro, who you had managed to have run into each other instead of you. Bad idea, because if you knew anything about Sanji, it's that he had a funny way of letting things slip rather sneakily. And if you knew anything about Zoro, its that he would easily catch a slick comment, and match it.

You lock your door, pacing back and forth in hopes of coming up with a plan. The truth? Yeah maybe tell the truth! You swallow your pride, taking a deep breath, only to head a kock at your door. Oh god. Your hands tremble, that sickly nervous feeling seeping into your pores. Its hot in here.

"Hey honey, um, how about we reschedule to tomorrow?" Sanji hums, something...off in his tone.

You pull the door open, that same facade over your face. You swallow, nodding at him in response.

"I see. I mean yeah we can. Something come up?" You ask, eyes shifting all over. You can bring yourself to keep direct contact with him and damn he can tell. You could've sworn that you saw someone turn the corner...was that Zoro. Nevermind that. Apparently, Sanji had said something to you but you hadn't heard it you were panicking so damn much.

"Uhh sure. You okay?" He questions, more smug than anything. He knows...

__2 days ago___

It was far too quiet for your liking. Sanji seemed to avoid you...and so did Zoro. Well, not really avoid you. In all honestly you were paranoid and reading into everything. You had FABULOUS intuition so when the energy was out of wack it went straight to your head.

They know. They have to. There's no way they don't. The two of them had gotten a lot bolder you noticed. It was all so clear to you. They were...competing almost. Zoro would leave his hand on your hip, and Sanji would roll his eyes. Sanji would pull your hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of your face when you were cleaning? Zoro would scoff and move on.

Okay, so they definitely knew. Now they were playing the "She likes me more game." That was the least of your concerns. If anything you were drinking up the attention. What you really wanted to know, was how they had found out about each other...the ship is small so that doesn't help the situation.

Today, you managed to find yourself in the kitchen while both your blonde and green-headed sneaky links were ALSO in the vicinity. You swallow hard, bidding them a good day whilst making your way to the fridge, which Sanji usually keeps locked up otherwise Luffy would get in it.

"Sanji, um, the key please." You ask, clearing your throat as the two seemed to watch your every move.

He smiles, stepping beside you, his hand trailing from your waist to the curve of your ass. He's grinning the whole time, his eyes cutting to Zoro before squatting down, using your leg as a means to steady himself to retrieve the well-hidden, key. His fingers dance over your thighs and inwards, just barely brushing over the crotch of your shorts. You yelp, tensing when Zoro gives a slight 'tch'

Sanji stands, plopping the piece of metal in your hand before returning to the stove from whence he came.

"Thanks." You rasp, fianlly feeling a pinh at ease before oepenign the fridge.

Too bad the peace only lasted for two seconds, becuse right when you had cracked it open, Zoro was already behind you, reaching for his desnated bottle of alcohol, his hand right at your waist, just where Sanji's had been.

Instead of squatting however, down to more or less 'politely' show ownership of you, Zoro opts to wind his hand back as far as possible.

SMACK

You yelp louder, steadying yourself agaisn the fridge as you moan at the sting. There was no doubt there was a bit of a mark again toyu melenated skin now. Zoro only grins, all too smug at Sanji's enraged expression.

"Thats it. You just have no sense of respect do you." Sanji argues, Zoro standing a bit taller now.

If you hadn't been squeezed between the two now, they'd surely be chest to chest. Your body is beginning to betray you, heat flooding your face and between your thighs. This wasn't about them. This was about you and who you liked more...They each wanted your attention. Rightfully so, I mean not only were you a sweetheart with a smart mouth but that mouth could do a lot more than just talk shit. And either one of them would be happy to accept death between your thighs.

"If you knew anythign at all, youd kne she likes a little desrespect." Zoro shoots back, your eyes widening.

"If you knew anything you'd know she likes being treated like a princess." Sanji scoffs.

"Lets not talk about me like im not here-"

You're cut off when they shoot that same look your way. A look you'd seen one to many times, bent over, facing a conveniently placed mirror...or wit your back against the matress, one of them over you while your legs cramp up from being so close to your chest.

Damn fr two guys who seemingly didn't 'get alog' they sure had a lot in common.

In the heat fo the argument, you slide pst the pair and out of the kitchen. Unfortunetly for you, a head of orage just happened to be outside and heard part of the last three statements.

"I dont even want to knw what or how you're gonna get out of this. Youll figure it out." Nami half encourages as you groan.

Is that what good pussy did to a mf? Start wars?! It blew your mind but you had less than a few seconds process to the situation. Before you could even realize what was happening, Zoro exited the kitchen and scope you up. And right behim him was a very serious, looking Sanji....

oh you’re so screwed.

——————————————

Authors note: HI YALLL ok so this one’s been sitting in the drafts for literally I wanna say a half a year now lmao uhhhhh let me know if you’d like to be tagged for pt.2 that’s where all the HOT SHIT HAPPENS! Anyway love you all! Drink water lol

[plurapony]

How the Mane Six would react if you told them you're a system!

1. Fluttershy

"I'm sorry I don't know what this is can you explain it to me? [after explaining] oh okay! I'll be sure to make sure I'll be kind to whichever one of you I meet!"

Always makes sure she's not offending you in any way, doesn't want to get anything wrong.

Wants to ask more questions because she's curious but feels it might be too invasive so just keeps her questions to herself and asks Twilight Sparkle later on.

Super kind to nonhuman and little alters and acts as a caretaker.

2. Rainbow Dash

"Oh no way! You really have all that stuff happen in your head? Can I talk to them too?"

Doesn't really understand much about systems but is very interested whenever you talk about it.

Whenever any of your alters talk to her she gets so incredibly excited about it and talks to them eagerly.

Sometimes gets things wrong on purpose just so you can correct her and explain more about being a system.

3. Pinkie Pie

"WAIT OH MY GOD DID YOU ENTER THE MIRROR POOL TOO? DID YOU GUYS DESTROY THE TOWN???"

Is convinced that she has the same experience as you and she knows what it's like to be a system. (Maybe she does?)

Doesn't really understand but her heart is in the right place.

She's encouraged your alters to go into the mirror pool to get separate bodies on several occasions.

Screams at anyone who is mean to you and is very protective over you.

4. Applejack

"Sugar I really don't understand what you're talking about, but I'll help in any way I can"

Makes you feel extremely comfortable even though she doesn't completely understand.

Never judges any alters that you split and treats them all as equals and how she treats you.

Stands by your side whenever other people are making you uncomfortable, ready to defend you as soon as you want her too.

5. Twilight Sparkle

"Oh Dissociative Identity Disorder! I've read about this in one of my books! Let me know what I can do to help!"

Has asked you to take part in several experiments so that she can write her on paper on DID.

Whenever you vent about being a system to her you notice she's got a notebook and she's furiously scribbling down notes.

You always feel so reassured while around Twilight she genuinely cares about your system a lot.

6. Rarity

"So my dear, each of you have different personalities? So I can make a different outfit for each alter?"

Made different dresses and outfits for each of your alters that encompassed their personalities and made them feel comfortable.

Doesn't ever pry about system stuff and just treats all your alters as individuals.

THAT'S ALL FOLKS!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT MORE PONY PERSPECTIVES!!!!!

[IMAGE ID: ponyville is a (pro) endo free zone break dni and get blocked loser! END ID]

[h3rmess-ii]

GOJO AND YUUJI

☆ ☆

I just keep making myself more sad by the minute. I keep watching clips of jjk, and it just makes me think about cute things that make me sad.

Their relationship is so cute, and I love how gojo took yuuji in and didn't hesitate to save him from execution after megumi's request. I feel like gojo sees a lot of himself in yuuji, and the three of them (megumi nobara and yuuji) are kind of a mirror image of shoko, geto, and gojo when they were younger. Shoko ends up getting kind of forgotten about, and I feel like this is manifested in the first years as the loss of nobara. I guess gojo went to great lengths to prevent a breakup like he had with geto, and in a way, he succeeded. nobara and the whole chair analogy where she says that she has seats in her heart and she shouldn't waste them on people that she doesn't know very well. then we see yuuji, megumi, and gojo sitting down in those seats when she's about to die. to me, this shows the bond they have formed is so strong, and its like they've fulfilled the happiness they needed in their relationship. But then again, as Yaga said, no sorcerer dies without regret.

Anyway, back to the point. Gojo and Yuuji are genuinely so similar, and the way Yuuji calls out when Gojo gets sealed breaks my heart. He didn't ask for any of this. None of this was his fault, and only Kenjaku is to blame here. His stupid ideals stripped Yuuji of his innocence. Give my poor boy a break. And megumi, too, they both don't deserve this kind of hurt 😔

JUST LOOK AT THE WAY YUUJI HUGS GOJO!! LIKE THAT WAS STILL ON THE FIRST PROPER DAY AFTER MEETING IT'S SO SO SO CUTE! They're such a mirror image of each other, and they get on so well. I love it.

☆ ☆

[magiturge]

my partner is hot i have to drink about this .

mumbling about it / bored explaining under the cut

i don't think i've talked about it here but i think about the way they mirror each other and how some of it feeds into certain things. one of the things is shame. i think hank is independent and indifferent to the way it is viewed by the world because what reason or benefit is there to care about it. it wears things because it personally thinks it looks cool. the weight of the world's opinion of him doesn't matter and nobody's opinion of how it looks will ever matter in the long run. for sheriff, it's the opposite. sheriff has and always will be more sociable than hank, people looked up to him in nexus city and he amassed a good reputation. he was a salesman for crying out loud, your image and how you sell it is key. in their situationship, in theory, only they ( hank and sheriff ) should ever know about it because it's a secret. hank personally doesn't care because it has nothing to be afraid or embarrassed of, it doesn't get the weight of these kind of gestures. whereas sheriff, vehemently tries to hide it because being found out for this relationship throws possibly everything he's built in merc as their leader into jeopardy. hank will help in hiding it since, things being found out can potentially just sever the source of what he wants out of its grasp. happy cowboy happy life sheriff also holds a really restrained (?) view of hank, he feels ashamed of his attraction because that's nevada's most wanted. that's the person killing relentlessly, i must look so weak and easy to fold this way. he cannot separate his physical attraction or just casually acknowledge he thinks that they're hot and it stresses him out a lot. it's little things like this.

tldr ; sheriff gets really upset when the thought or acknowledgement that hank is attractive to him comes by because he holds an image of hank in his head as someone who should never be thought of that way especially given their history. from hank's perspective, it's kind of funny to it because he's snuck around in the factory vents and wonders if sheriff just holds a really neutral face around the sweaty burly guys in there or sheriff just really likes hank that much. you've lived around sweaty grunting in a hot environment for years but if i show a little muscle, you start getting red as you were on the day i killed you?

[charlidos]

THE CHRONICLES OF THE CUNTYBAGO

I love the lore of the Fellowship, I can't get enough of it. And it's really turned into a kind of myth, hasn't it? The stories have been established, from being told again and again. Regardless if it's not the whole truth, or even not true at all. The lore has a life of its own. And it changes, depedning on who's talking, and over time.

The lore of the (inappropriately named) Cuntybago is a favourite; that famed make-up trailer bus where Orlando spent so much time with Viggo (hours and hours for years and years if you listen to Orlando) absorbing everything Viggo did.

So here's the Ultimate (very long) Cuntybago Post.

The Cuntybago is apparently where all the after-work parties happened. Most of what actually happened on it is still secret, private events not to be shared; after hours, after some wine/whisky drinking. What kind of special stuff was in the drawers? What did they really smoke? And, most intriguingly, who exactly was left onboard when everyone were ordered to get out... (Erm, V&O, perhaps?)I'm sure there are many more photos from the bus. Like a photo of Viggo & Orlando - which has yet to be seen. Oh, to have been a fly on that wall!

(A clip from the last day of the reshoots, in 2003. Because it's the time the bus has been talked about the most. Even if I'm unsure if this is the actual Cuntybago or not. Since it doesn't look green...)

Mortensen and Orlando Bloom spent much of their off-time on a green bus they named the "Cunty-Bago." Instead of the standard luxury lodging demanded by most stars on set, Viggo and co-star Orlando Bloom shared a converted bus while filming Rings. Viggo stocked the bus with a wine cellar and wallpapered the inside with candid behind-the-scenes photos. A source on the set said the bus was the site of frequent cast parties, with the motto, "Everyone is welcome, but when it's time to go, get out!" Indeed, they formed a club — The Cunty-Bago Club. [Viggo, Sean and Orlando] shared a make-up Winnebago, and through hours of beard and pointy-ear application formulated the rules of their society — most of which boil down to getting gossip and posting it on. [on what? I think the text is cut?]

There are very few quotes from Viggo. If you read his old interviews about life on set it sounds like he mostly worked 6 days a week, 14 hours a day. And in his free time, he went camping and fishing by himself and just drove around to get some me-time. That's it. It all sounds like mostly work and no play for Viggo. Cementing this image of him being ever serene, wise and a hard working method actor who never stopped being Aragorn. But then, we have the stories of this bus, which shows his wilder side...

(Viggo in ponytails, with a glass of wine and banana, in front of that mirror covered in photographs. They both took a lot of photos on set, so I guess a bunch of those photos are Orlando's.)

All Viggo's said is this:

"It was a crazy small bus." "Everything had cunt. It was 'cunt this' and 'cunt that'. We had a cuntmas tree, and we had cuntmas angels."

(Orlando on the makeup bus. )

Orlando has mostly mentioned the bus in passing, as he loves on Viggo, his great hero. And in his words, it always sounds like it was just the two of them... (when in fact it was from time to time also shared with Sean B, Bernard and Liv - but only Viggo & Orlando were there the whole time).

[Me and Viggo would] sit next to each other for a couple or hours each morning in a make-up truck. You get to know someone that way, more than by being in scenes with them. I used to sit next to him on the make-up bus, and find myself just staring at him while he was having his make-up done and drawing in his book or writing his notes. I would find myself fascinated. When I went back for re-shoots, I was on my own and he wasn't sitting there, and I suddenly was sitting in the makeup bus that we'd been driving around in for 18 months in New Zealand and got really emotional and felt that it was kind of weird to be there without him there and sort of reflected on all of the happy conversations and chats and glasses of wine and talks that we would have at the end of the day or whatever. He really had a huge impact on my life as an actor.

But he did say a few specific things too:

"Ahhh yes, the bus. It was mine, all mine. It was my precious." Bloom christened the bus the "C-word" when the makeup artist was fuming about someone and asked Bloom's advice. "You should kick him in the cunt and tell him to fuck off!" Viggo just lost it for half an hour. He kept saying, 'What did you say?' [The bus] became all about "the word. We took that word and took all of its power away. We made it the most loving word in the world. If you were a true cunt, you were the most amazing person in the world. It was a very free-spirited bus. It came about because me and Viggo kept being moved around, and we ended up on this bus one day. And the actors were fed up and we said, "This is it. This is our home and we are not moving. If they come, tell them to go away."

And finally from Orlando's IG in 2019 (obviously, to this day, a very important part of his life):

Our fondly named makeup bus, christened by Noreen my makeup artist and Viggo Mortensen, was, and remains in my heart and memory the most female and male empowered, joyful, disreputable and yet totally respectful place of work and creativity ever. Hours spent in the the makeup chair to apply ear’s and wigs and contacts." (They can't even agree who named it, Noreen never got any credit back then...)

(From the reshoots in 2003, Viggo gives Orlando some love and points out the photo message from Orlando on the mirror. But I want to know, who put up the pic of O with Brad Pitt? From this clip.)

The comments from everyone else in the cast about life on the Cuntybago are actually more enlightening. The rowdy gang reveal another side of life on set and of Viggo: as a drinking, partying prankster who loves crude language. It's definitely part of the fascination with Viggo. He's never one to talk about these things himself.

(I think they're wearing the special cuntebago t-shirts here. No idea from whence.)

Bernard Hill:

You are not supposed to know about it!" "There were five or six of us - Viggo, Orlando and Sean [Bean]. Liv came in and out [of the group]. Viggo has this special kind of crudeness that he is capable of. We were in the same make up bus [along with Bloom]. When I came back [from a break] it was called the Cuntybago. It was our private club. We had wine tasting sessions and had lots of parties. We also kept lots of food in there. Anything that was out [on the table], you could have. You could drink it, eat it, borrow it, smoke it… but don´t go looking in any drawers. That´s where we kept our 'special stuff'! [The Cuntybago bar would on occasion open very early] like 6:30am. There were days that we needed it. [I've made life-long friends with] everybody who was in the Cuntybago. Leaving the first time was such a huge wrench. Especially because of the Cuntybago, it was like our club. Fortunately we managed to get it back for Return of the king reshoots, so ROTK was the Return of the Cuntybago. We actually drove it out onto the streets for Viggo’s farewell. Viggo didn’t know we were going to do it, and when it started moving, you should have seen his face. I kept shouting, “Cunty libre! Cunty libre!” And the bus start leaving—we were breaking free. For propriety’s sake it was called the C-Bago Club, because you couldn’t put Cunty on the call sheet. Sean Bean came in, Liv was also a part of it. As soon as I get back to England I’m going to start the C-Bago web site: Orlando will do fashion and Viggo will do current affairs. I’ll probably do gossip — you know, the social calendar. Liv will do Hollywood and Sean Bean will do the art of war. It’ll be our little corner of the world.

(Bernard & Orlando Bloom getting make-up done. Here's the green bus again.)

Elijah:

Cuntybago is an amalgamation of 'Winnebago' and Viggo Mortensen´s cuss word of choice. I've gained an appreciation of the word cunt. Negative words - the best thing is to diffuse them by using and taking the meaning away. Cunt! Cunt! It's a great, great word. Very forceful. [Viggo] became utterly fascinated with it and it became the word of the film. Their Winnebago for makeup was called the Cuntybago. I was not a part of the Cuntybago unfortunately - it was the makeup room of Orlando, Viggo and Sean Bean - but it was a lovely place to visit. Cuntybago T-shirts were made up. There was a Cunty Christmas and we had a Cunty Christmas tree, all this stuff. Cate Blanchett [who plays the elf queen Galadriel] was deemed Her Cuntliness. I think we were all secretly jealous of the Cuntybago. I was anyway. I loved the atmosphere. Any place that had Viggo in the centre was always an interesting place to be… And that was where all the alcohol was. It was just spending all of that time with brits and Aussies. The word ‘Cunt’ came up quite a lot. I was fascinated by that and how it could become not so dirty. It’s one of the few swear words that still shock people." Is that why you called Cate Blanchett “Her Cuntliness? “Not my creation. She was called that by Viggo Mortensen. I put the blame on him. It was used during the making of the movie and seems a bit silly now. Wood says that his Cuntybago T-shirt is home in a drawer. "It's too big for me. I'm a small guy."

(A few photos up on the mirror in front of Viggo. I'm guessing it's Henry on the toilet (aww!), and Viggo and Orlando doing something something... Sharing a cigarette? Extinguishing a cigarette on Viggo's tongue? It looks kind of erotic. And who's the other dude?)

Billy:

"On Lord of the rings we'd go to Viggo and Orlando's trailer which was called The Cuntybago. Viggo was good for getting Irish whiskey, which was great but I keep trying to educate him on malt whisky. (To Billy it was just V&O's trailer. Like it's where they lived together...) Hobbits, an elf, a King of Men, maybe a dwarf. And quite a few times a wizard, sometimes a princess. Ha ha! That's enough to make anyone feel pissed. We had some good times on that one, some great times."

Peter Jackson:

"The actors had a spiritual connection to it. I liked the way they had photographs [Mortensen and Bloom] taken behind-the-scenes, plastered all over the walls."

(From the reshoots, I think. Beautifully blurry.)

Liv Tyler:

I can't believe he [Mortensen] talked about that. That was our private world. There was a lot of liquor on that bus. But the funniest thing about this bus is that this thing was a beast. It was so tiny; nothing worked. If they ever washed our hair it would go from scalding hot to freezing cold. There was no heat. Our makeup trailer became the center of things. It was given a really bad name that I cannot repeat. There were pranks, most of them also too dirty to tell. I love them all, all my costars. We would hang out mostly in the hair-and-makeup trailer, and after work at dinner. We would eat all the time and drink wine and laugh.  I think that a lot of that was the friendships that we made with each other and the fact that we all needed each other. It was vital that we all had each other to survive and to be able to laugh. Everybody had a really good sense of humor, thank God. We'd be constantly making jokes and decorating the trailer with ridiculous things and being rude and that was our sort of little bubble of escape in our makeup trailer.

(Photo by Liv, in the bus. You can see all the polaroids and stuff behind the unicorn elf.)

Cate Blanchett:

Viggo is the funkiest person I've ever met. I am far too polite to . . . he had this thing he called "the cunty-bago" . . . no, I guess I shouldn't go into that. So, yeah, he's incredible, very funny.

So, I can't quite figure out which bus The Cuntybago actually is: the green one Orlando is seen exiting? Or the yellow-ish one seen in the vids from the reshoots? Because they aren't the same. And in the vid from the final day, Bernard says the bus he drove on that last day was the same they'd had "for years" and which never moved before. While Orlando said they drove The Cuntybago around "for 18 months". So which bus was it? And did they drive the bus around or not? Or was it stationary? It's a mystery.

(This is the green bus - but is it the make-up trailer? Same as in the vid with Bernard.)

(Here in the reshoots, the bus is yellow-ish? And completely different. Looks more like a Winnebago than the green one really... So which one is The Cuntybago?)

ETA: it's the green striped one! Here it is on the Cuntybago t-shirt:

ETA 2:

All my memories from that time is filtered through our bus, the famous C-bago. That was our haven, our social club and our home: it was our special place. We christened it the Cuntebago, but it had to be shortened to C-bago because Cuntebago couldn't go on the call sheets. It was a big make-up bus, and in one of its previous existences it obviously took people to and from places on a commercial basis, so it had the little place in the front that said where it was going, and we wanted Cuntebago on there: "Cuntebago - everywhere!" That was me, Viggo and Orlando. We were the cunts in the Cuntebago.

-Bernard Hill in Empire Magazine 2011.

That's all I have found about this infamous, mythical place, where all the magic happened, as they say. If anyone has info to add, please do! I want this post to be comprehensive!