#BFA Race

[zandalarii]

aah im gonna end up getting back into warcraft i think. adding high level gear rewards for doing world activities is great; i always felt so pressured in regards to running enough (and high enough) m+ keys each week. made it feel like more of a chore than a game

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)

He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.

It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it.  Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…

It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.

As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time.  He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school.  By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.

This was different.  This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.

“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.

“Still good,” you nodded.  “You asked me that when we first got here.”

“Right,” he sighed, “sorry.  I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth.  “I’m nervous, too.  But in a good way.”

He smiled.  “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here.  And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”

“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed.  “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”

“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.

“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified.  “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”

“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured.  “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”

You laughed, looking down for a second.  “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”

“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.

“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby.  So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”

He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed.  “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”

“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”

“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me.  Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”

He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money.  He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.

But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.

“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief.  “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way.  ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least.  Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”

Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…

“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting.  Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end.  So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”

“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed.  “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”

You seemed to get a little more shy, then.  “Well…” you began softly.  “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl.  I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”

It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.

“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal.  I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”

“No, right,” he agreed.  “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow.  “I already told you my goal for tonight.”

He swallowed thickly.  He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”

“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted.  “But… can I be honest?”

“Always.”

“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much.  Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.

“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.

“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real.  But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”

He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.

“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.

“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.

“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.

You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”

“Excellent,” he beamed.  “And— can I just say one thing?”

You both paused, not sure what to make of that.  “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.

“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.

“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”

“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly.  “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”

Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well.  You looked away and took a long sip of your drink.  “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”

Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”

Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created.  How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?

“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.

“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny.  Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”

He coughed a bit.  “No, I— are you not…?  Do you know—?”

“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.

“Oh.”  Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”

Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’.  There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too. 

“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.

“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again.  “It’s just your job.  I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”

“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously.  “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”

“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always.  You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.

When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window.  But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.

~

“I tried to clean up in here, but—”

“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.  

“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained.  “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”

“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again.  The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy?  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.

“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip.  “Who was your first kiss?”

“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan.  We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled.  “What about you?”

“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho.  But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”

“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”

“Who was it?”

That name was much easier to recall.  “Alex Brooks.”

“Was she super pretty?  Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.

“Both,” Dieter replied quickly.  “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”

You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.

“Is that—?” he began to ask.

“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled.  “Was he a good kisser?”

“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler.  I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence.  “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time.  And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”

You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way.  “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”

You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.  

For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss.  Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.

You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.

“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that.  “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”

“Then show me that,” he pleaded.  “That’s what I want— you, everything.”

You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.  

He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin.  “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them.  The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.

“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours.  “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”

“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again.  “What do you want, beautiful?”

“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.

“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”

He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants.  “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.

In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them.  “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.

“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.

“Yes— please—” you begged.

“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look.  “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”

You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you.  "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Mhm," he confirmed.  "Hard to forget."

"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"

"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."

You bit your lip and nodded.

"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.

"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.

And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this.  So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey.  His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty.  "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.

"Yeah?  You too," you sighed.

He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange.  But he liked it, especially when you said it.  Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.

It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human.  And he knew you'd taste even better.

So he dove right in.  Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole.  If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.

"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already.  He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you.  "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up.  "That's so… just do that again, please…"

He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue.  "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.

"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.

He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging.  He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.

"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"

You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.

"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"

You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted.  For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.

When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks.  He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that.  As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that.  He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement.  "Does that feel good?" you purred.

"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.  

"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.

"God, baby…" he groaned.  As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head.  You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.

“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.

Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part.  Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason.  Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same.  It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between.  He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.  

So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.  

As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.

He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little.  “Uh, different than what?”

Than everyone else.  “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”

“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.

“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.

It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.

Someone that he never wanted to let go of.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”

One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it.  In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.

But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could.  He never wanted this to end, actually.

As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily.  He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex.  He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.

This, on the other hand, was very memorable.  He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.

For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before.  But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something.  This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.

“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.

“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.  

“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.

“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him.  “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”

He heard it before he said it: I think I love you.  He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time.  You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.

He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process.  Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.

“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.  

“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.

“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”

He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.

“Fuck!” you sobbed.  “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”

“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”

“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”

“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly.  “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”

“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking.  “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”

“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it.  He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt.  “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”

You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply.  “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”

“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”

“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment.  “You still want me to come inside you?  Wanna be full?”

“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”

"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside.  "I'm really fucking close…”

“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’.  He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.

Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement.  Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut.  “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.

For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all.  You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face.  “Oh,” you said, “cool.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.

“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.

“No!  No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know.  I love you.  I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy.  We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right?  But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”

“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”

The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing?  He felt like he was actually glowing.  “Good,” he decided.

“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced.  “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”

“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”

“Me?  Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.

“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.

But both of you talked— all night, actually.  You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up.  And then you kept talking at breakfast.  And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it.  He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.

He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again.  You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath.  “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.  

“I don’t want this to end.”

You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently.  “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled.  “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together.  I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”

“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up.  “I only want you.”

“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.

“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”

“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight.  I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”

It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now.  He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight.  Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you.  For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before.  Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.  

But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown.  It was tomorrow.  Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight.  But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.

[hotmentransformed]

No One Acts Like Gaston

When Alex first received the call from Disney offering him a position as a character actor at one of their parks, he was over the moon with excitement. After graduating with a BFA in Acting several years earlier, he had hardly been offered any work, so he was over the moon to work at the happiest place on earth. Eager to embark on this new adventure, he accepted without hesitation, not even bothering to ask which character he would be portraying.

Entering the park, Alex was greeted by a symphony of sights and sounds that filled him with wonder and amazement. Children laughed and squealed with delight, the air was alive with the promise of magic, and families posed for photos with beloved characters, an honor he would soon hold.

The anticipation bubbled within Alex as he approached the grand spires of Cinderella's Castle, shooting upwards like a beacon of dreams. His heart raced with excitement, each step bringing him closer to the realization of his lifelong ambition.

As he marveled at the sights around him, Alex couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him. This was it – the beginning of a new chapter in his life, a chapter filled with adventure, excitement, and the boundless possibilities of Disney magic. But before he could dwell on the moment for too long, a friendly voice interrupted his reverie: "Hey there, new guy! You ready to make some magic?"

Turning to see the source of the voice, Alex found himself face to face with a Disney cast member, their eyes twinkling with mischief and merriment. With a nod and a grin, Alex followed the cast member through the bustling crowds, and towards the double doors that read Cast Members Only.

As Alex stepped into the backstage area, the air crackled with excitement and anticipation. He could hardly contain his enthusiasm as he followed the seasoned Disney cast member through the bustling corridors. The cast member regaled Alex with stories of the magic that awaited him within the park's hallowed walls. Alex listened intently, his heart soaring with every word as he imagined the countless adventures that lay ahead.

As they approached a nondescript door labeled Character Costumes, the cast member turned to Alex with a knowing smile and pushed open the door to reveal a sight that took Alex's breath away: Row upon row of costumes stretched out before him, each one a vibrant tapestry of color and imagination. From the sparkling gowns of princesses to the swashbuckling attire of pirates, the room was a treasure trove of Disney magic, unlike anything Alex had ever seen. But as his eyes scanned the array of costumes, they came to rest on one in particular: a regal ensemble that seemed to pulse with an energy all its own. It was Gaston's attire from "Beauty and the Beast.” Confusion washed over Alex as he stared at the costume, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden realization of what was happening. "But… Gaston?" he stammered, turning to the cast member in disbelief. He was a small guy, maybe 5’ 8” on a good day and 120 soaking wet.

The cast member nodded with a reassuring smile. "Trust me, kid, you're gonna knock 'em dead," he said, clapping Alex on the back before ushering him into the locker room to get into costume and closing the door behind him.

Left alone with the costume amongst the lockers, Alex decided to give it a shot. He slipped into the too-large ensemble. Was he ready for this? Could he truly embody the larger-than-life persona of Gaston, the arrogant and boisterous villain of a beloved fairy tale?

As Alex stepped into the Gaston costume, the fabric seemed to cling to him with an almost magnetic force, molding itself to his form in a way that felt simultaneously exhilarating and unsettling. At first, there was a faint prickling sensation, like pins and needles dancing across his skin. Then, a surge of energy pulsed through his veins, surprising him and causing him to lose his footing and stumble back onto the bench.

His limbs trembled as muscles he didn't know he possessed began to swell and ripple beneath the fabric. What was once a slender frame now burgeoned with newfound strength, his arms thickening with sinew and his chest expanding with each breath. The costume strained at the seams as if struggling to contain the sheer power that coursed through him. Stretching taller and taller, Alex felt his massive muscles elongate and shift, leaving him a gigantic 6'4". But it wasn't just his physique that changed. As Alex glanced down in disbelief at his massive legs and feet which now seemed miles away, he watched in awe as coarse tufts of hair sprouted from his skin, spreading like wildfire across his legs, and etching its way up his torso and onto his arms. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, yet somehow right, as if this was the form he was always meant to inhabit. As he scratched the forest of hair on his massive chest, he felt... manly.

His face began shifting, his features sharpening and his jawline becoming more pronounced. A shadow of stubble emerged along his jaw, framing lips that curled into an arrogant smirk. Even his eyes seemed to change, gleaming with a newfound intensity that mirrored the character he now embodied. With each passing moment, Alex felt himself slipping further and further into the role of Gaston. His movements became more fluid, more confident, as if guided by some unseen force. His Adams apple, swelled, leaving his moans deeper and more resonant, booming and echoing with authority, his voice dripping with the same bravado that defined the character he now portrayed.

A surge of energy pulsed through him, and a strange sensation washed over his entire being. The world around him spun in a dizzying whirl, and Alex lost his footing and reached for support, only to stumble toward the doors to the main park and fall through. The sights and sounds of Disney World blended into a chaotic blur. Faces rushed past him, their voices a cacophony of excitement and laughter, but to Alex, they were nothing more than fleeting shadows in a swirling storm.

His head swam with confusion as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. "Where… where am I?" he muttered, his deep voice lost amidst the din of the crowd. He reached out, grasping for something – anything – to anchor him to reality, but found only the empty expanse of the park stretching out before him. In his disoriented state, Alex stumbled forward, his movements clumsy and uncertain. But then, as if guided by some unseen force, he felt a surge of power coursing through him, filling him with a newfound sense of purpose.

With a deep breath, Alex straightened his posture and squared his shoulders, channeling the boundless confidence of the character he now embodied. His steps grew more assured, his gestures more deliberate, until finally, Gaston arrived at his designated spot in the park.

Gaston stood before the eager parkgoers, flexing his muscles and flashing a cocky grin. Embracing his new role with all the bravado and charm of the legendary hero, he was ready to leave his mark on the magical kingdom of Disney in a way he never could have imagined.

[skymagpie]

Mists of Pandaria literally took a dwarf character, previously rightfully depicted as a scumbag villain because he wiped out an entire tribe of tauren whilst citing imperialism and racial superiority, and depicted him as a good guy out to protect the pandaren whilst vilifying the tauren for resisting him!

Not to mention that they retconned nearly the entire orc race as evil in that expansion with countless promising orc characters previously depicted as honorable and likable like Zaela, the entire Kor'kron organization, Bloodhilt, ETC becoming Garrosh clones simply because they were orcs and "orcs are inherently bad".

Or that the tie in novels for Mists of Pandaria like Tides of War literally had Baine freaking out and exiling tauren for resisting human and dwarf colonization of their lands.

Vol'jin, one of the only Poc coded monsters to be depicted in a decnet light in MOP, was literally described by the Alliance player as "Disgusting", "savage", and other terms, with the game even adding flies around Vol'jin for this quest.

Before you say thats just the Alliance player's view, white characters never get this description like say human characters when you're playing Horde.

For reference, Shadowlands demonized Dambala, a revered and famous real world loa worshipped in Haiti and many other parts of the World.

The same expansion almost exclusively had PoC coded monsters in the Hell portions, like Zul'jin was in Hell for protecting his lands against colonists that are so proud of their genocide of trolls, their leaders name themselves after it(Trollbanes) the recent Sylvanas novel even clarified that the humans and High Elves knew that it was the Amani's land when they made their homes there from the stone obelisks decorated with troll holy symbols and writing.

It has also been confirmed in recent novels that the tauren gods are fake whilst the night elf gods are real...

And the tauren's oppressor whom had been frequently terrorizing the earth throughout World of Warcraft's history, Magni Bronzebeard, literally got the role of voice of Azeroth like the true Mighty Whitey he is.

Warcraft III for all its racial coding never had anything like this and Warcraft I and II did not have this much racial coding.

So the Doubling down on the racial coding and the "PoC Coded monsters are evil" stuff was done by the modern writers that go "look at how woke we are, two white women are gay an we retconned another white character to be trans, now lets kill some voodoo worshipping savages in the Jungle together!"

Anyhow, sorry I have strong feelings about this as someone whom isn't white myself.

This is sadly a very extensive list and I have no doubt is only part of the problem. I used to play WoW when I was 13 which was 13 years ago and I didn't speak English then so I didn't really know lore. I came back only recently and the few things I played were some BfA (Kul Tiras side), all of Dragonflight and some Legion and a bit of Shadowlands. I haven't touched the other things aside from the vague knowledge of what is going on. I have to keep an eye on these things as I play on because I didn't know most of it.

Hell they do stupid colonialist tropes even with white-coded races, like I am sure the Drust are supposed to be Celtic coded and yet they also have them portrayed as bad for not wanting the Kul Tirans on their land.

I feel like when they do something good for the non-white coded races, it is always played safe for the general playerbase of the cishet white dudes who want their racist stereotypes intact. They always seem to be pussyfooting around the issue without making any meaningful change. They want to make sure they won't offend their biggest racist consumer base and that is so sad. Blizzard has potent racism 10 years behind everyone else.

Also I am sorry you have to write so much, but thank you for sharing this and I hope more people are made aware of it. It's okay to always vent here for anything, and I will eventually catch up with playing the content.

[deathbydarkelves]

do u have headcanons for any of the wow races? especially nelfs?

Yes.

If we're just talking headcanons I apply to canon, and not outright AU canon (though I make all my HCs canon in my AU lol), then…

Night elves:

Surnames are passed from mother to child.

Owing their existence to the magic of the Well of Eternity, they’re naturally a little more sensitive to the arcane than other races. That is, they have a bit of a “sixth sense” and most can feel the presence of magic without being magic users themselves.

The "social age of maturity" is 100, and this is the age when most receive their facial tattoos ((this is why Cathala doesn't have any; she was still on Pandaria when she turned 100)).

Polygamy/amory is commonplace and considered normal.

Teldrassil being only, like, 20 years old by BfA is silly to me so yes I'm one of those people who says it was a couple thousand years old before that.

Trolls, night elves, and nightborne can move their ears both to hear better and for communication (as a supplement to facial expressions, basically). High/blood/void elves have all but lost this ability.

Other races (sorry it’s so much shorter, I am mentally ill about night elves 😔):

All trolls are furry to some extent.

Trolls and orcs have converged on what I’m just gonna call a “snarl response”. They instinctively bare their teeth when feeling threatened, but can of course do it consciously as well because their lips are flexible enough for that to actually… look right. If you’re gonna have tusks, might as well put them to use lol. And because trolls have that, night elves have it as well.

Speaking of tusks: trolls and orcs, regardless of sex, can grow sizable tusks (varying person-to-person of course).

Similarly, all dwarves can grow facial hair.

But if we ARE talking AU lore… then boy do I have a google doc for you.

[lizzybeth1986]

Meet My MC: Basil Park

FC: Eric Mun

Book: Perfect Match

Name: Park Byeong-Cheol. But at school and among friends he was called Basil so the name stuck.

Age: 26 at the start of PM.

Birthday: June 5th.

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Hair: Short, Brown.

Eyes: Deep Brown.

Birthplace: New York

Race/Ethnicity: Asian. From Seoul, South Korea.

Love Interests: Sloane Washington, Sage Young (formerly Hayden), Khaan Mousavi, Alana Kusuma, Damien Nazario.

Personality: Calm - Logical - Ambivert - Flirtatious - Goal-oriented - Patient.

Trivia:

- Basil and Sloane are very fond of exchanging different cultural stories and legends on constellations!

- Loves collecting pebbles and smooth stones!

- Favourite food item is the saffron and rose ice cream sandwich from Mashti Malone in LA. At one point in their friendship, he told Damien once he wouldn't mind moving there just to have it every day (that was how he found out Damien was from LA, coz that's what he said after Basil said that). He also loves bagels with cream cheese and lox

- Is a good singer and has learned tap dancing

- Like all PM MCs, can't cook to save his life

- He dated Sloane and Sage from the start, but started dating Damien shortly after they reunited in Tokyo

- On the jet plane to Berlin, Basil and Hayden listened to music together. Simon and Garfunkel's "Scarborough Fair" was a song both Basil and Hayden loved, and they sang the refrain together, very dramatically ("parsley saaaaaage rosemaryyyy and thyyyyyyyme!!!"). So when she wanted to change her name, the two chose Sage as an inside joke on that song 😅

Education: A BFA and MFA in Illustration from School of Visual Arts, NY. Nadia and Basil have both always showcased talents and interest in the visual arts, but Nadia's interest encompass various genres of art, while Basil focuses more on illustration and visual design. He's designed a couple covers, mostly for children's books.

Favourite Travel Destination: Jeju Island in his native SK, Santorini in Greece.

Backstory: No one who knows him now will believe how much of a wild-child he was as a kid. Very distracted, extremely talkative, really stubborn, and Basil and Nadia always got annoyed with each other at that age. Most of the family wouldn't be able to pinpoint exactly when he changed coz it happened so gradually over a long period of time, but clearly by the time he left for college he was a different person altogether. Since he and Nadia attended the same uni, they grew closer to each other in comparison to most of their cousins (tho they do love them all!)

Relationships and Children: I'm still deciding on kids! I do know that all the group besides Damien (coz he usually sticks to one relationship), the others date other people - Sloane dates Khaan and Alana, Sage also dates a Sri Lankan woman called Nilukshi who she meets while taking up rock climbing.

--

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for Meet My MC!

[mybeingthere]

Devan Shimoyama was born in 1989 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and graduated from Penn State University in 2011 with a BFA in Drawing/Painting. He received his MFA from Yale University School of Art in Painting/Printmaking in 2014. While there, in 2013, he was awarded the Al Held Fellowship.

"Shimoyama creates two distinct worlds—one an enchanted paradise, the other a queer imagining of the African American barbershop. Celebrated for fraternity and community, Shimoyama presents the barbershop as a space where young men and boys can feel shamed and vulnerable. In sculpture, he creates objects of mourning for Trayvon Martin and Tamir Rice, both examples of the aggressive targeting of African American youth as fearful or threatening. While canvases feel joyful and celebratory, they also present commentary on pain and sorrow. Teardrops lurk in the background of his landscapes or stream down the faces of his figures as a reminder of the racial injustices at work in contemporary society. Shimoyama presents a world where race, sexuality, and identity can operate from a point of freedom generated by inner strength." The Andy Warhol Museum.

ww.debuckgallery.com/artist/devan-shimoyama

[azerothtravel]

Dragonflight Post-Mortem

As this expansion comes to a close, it's once again time to ramble about the experience. And lemme tell ya, your mileage may vary, but this was a top 3 expansion for me. They did everything right. No oppressive and unpleasant system, great zones, a solid story with a satisfying ending. Anything you want to do at endgame has rarely been better, from raiding to pvp to alts. More secrets to discover, more transmogs to collect, more random fun things to do than basically ever before.

I think this may be my most played expansion, actually. I've traditionally played Gormorash with an alt or 2 in rotation (Most often Tinzul, Tinovan or Fiazko), but spurred in part by the new crafting system, I was logging into 7 characters every week, and my usual altaholic tendencies made it more than that a lot of the time.

Dragonriding/Dynamic flight/Skyriding/whatever it's called is a welcome addition, and the customizable mounts are cool. I look forward to more of that.

DF was fun to play alts through. Shadowlands felt like an oppressive slog after awhile, but I never got tired of these zones. Great scenery, storylines and music kept it fun over and over.

I was surprised and impressed by this expac being full of stories about empathy and forgiveness and acceptance. There were a lot of genuinely touching moments in this. Who could have possibly imagined Kalecgos eating soup could be an emotional moment? The wrap for the night elf story begun way back in Legion was pretty cool. I liked Merithra stepping up in her Mom's place, and Ebonhorn becoming the Black Aspect. All the smaller stories, too, like Baine overcoming his prejudice against centaur, they just did some great stuff this time.

At the same time, this expac felt fun. The endless gloom of Legion, BfA and Shadowlands replaced with the sense of adventure that characterized vanilla and Mists. Some of the funniest material they've ever done (Azmurloth alone...). I enjoyed the tone.

The Incarnates were genuinely cool new villains, and (Especially if you read War of the Scaleborn) the storyline between Alexstrasza and Vyranoth was done really well. Blizzard has a very uneven history with retcons (Don't get me started on Legion), but these guys slotted into the history pretty easily, and drove some interesting story beats. I'm glad Iridikron escaped to keep being a problem in the next one, he's a good villain.

I felt like they got War Mode down to a science this time. World PvP has never been more fun (or more rewarding).

My biggest complaint about Dragonflight is the new crafting system. Obviously more interesting than the old one, it still had its problems. The endless frustration of "I want to make thing C. To make thing C, you first have to make thing B, and to make that, you have to make thing A, and guess what, that recipe comes from Draconic Message In A Bottle, so you'll never get it" was maddening. Every profession seeming to desperately need a single herb was really annoying. Alchemy has felt like an afterthought for several expansions, but never more than here. The only profession without work orders? Come on.

But there was just so much stuff, such a variety of stuff. The wide variety of public events. The Zsekara Vaults. Sniffseeking. Little Scales Daycare. Unlocking old Scholomance. The various dragon racing cups. The game has just never felt like there was more to do. It seems like War Within will only improve things, content wise. But beating the story stuff in DF will be a tall order. We'll see how it goes.

[lboogie1906]

Corporal Aaron Douglas (May 26, 1899 – February 2, 1979) was a painter, illustrator, and visual arts, educator. He was a major figure in the Harlem Renaissance. He developed his art career by painting murals and creating illustrations that addressed social issues around race and segregation in the US by utilizing African-centric imagery. He set the stage for young, African-American artists to enter the public art realm through his involvement with the Harlem Artists Guild. He concluded his art career by founding the Art Department at Fisk University. He taught visual art classes at Fisk. He is known as a prominent leader in modern African-American art whose work influenced artists for years to come.

He moved to Detroit and held various jobs, including working as a plasterer and molding sand from automobile radiators for Cadillac. He attended free classes at the Detroit Museum of Art before attending college at the University of Nebraska. While attending college, he worked as a busboy to finance his education. When WWI commenced, he attempted to join the Student Army Training Corps at the University of Nebraska but was dismissed. Historians have speculated that this dismissal was correlated with the racially segregated climate of American society and the military. He transferred for a short time to the University of Minnesota, where he volunteered for the SATC and attained the rank of corporal. After the signing of the armistice, he returned to the University of Nebraska, where he received a BFA. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #sigmapiphi #kappaalphapsi

[missjanjie]

14 for anarcia pls

14. “I could be perfect for you.”

-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Anetra muttered as she paced back and forth across the dojo — or as much of a dojo as it could be, given it was located in a strip mall. She had been so caught up in her racing thoughts that she didn’t realize she was no longer alone.

Marcia tilted her head and looked at her curiously. “I’d ask if you were okay, but I’m pretty sure I have the answer,” she observed. “What’s got you all worked up?”

It took a moment for Anetra to even process what she was saying, but was relieved it was a familiar face and not a parent or student with an issue. Marcia worked at the Claire’s next door, and the two of them had formed a casual friendship, but enough of one for her to feel comfortable being candid with her. “My parents keep trying to set me up with men because — in their words — I’ve had so little success with women that maybe it’s a sign. So, I told them I have a girlfriend. They said to bring her to my mom’s birthday on Saturday. But I’m still girlfriend-deficient.”

She nodded as she listened. “I could go with you, I’ve got a bfa, so I think that makes me a halfway decent actress.”

Anetra blinked in surprise, wondering why it hadn’t already occurred to her to ask someone to pretend to be her date. “Are you sure? It’s not just dinner at a restaurant, the whole family is going to their place, it’s gonna be a whole thing.”

“It’s okay, I can do it,” Marcia assured, “I could be perfect for you.”

“Okay,” she exhaled, “I’ll text you my address, come over around… ten on Saturday.”

-

“You really don’t need to be nervous,” Marcia tried to assure as they drove, “I told you, parents love me. They’ll be proposing on your behalf before the cake comes out.”

Anetra laughed softly, relaxing for the first time since she told the lie that got her into this situation. “I love the confidence, but you’re significantly overestimating how chill they’ll be about me bringing home a non-man.”

“Well, hopefully my non-manliness won’t be too much of a drawback.”

By the time they arrived, the knots in Anetra’s stomach had started to loosen, and she walked into the house holding Marcia’s hand. After exchanging greetings and pleasantries, she properly announced, “and this is my girlfriend, Marcia.”

Marcia smiled brightly, waving with her free hand. She had to admit, though not out loud, she liked hearing Anetra call her her girlfriend. It made her heart flutter in a way she didn’t expect. And the heart flutters continued through the day, increasing every time Anetra put an arm around her, kissed her cheek, or complimented her.

“This is going much better than expected,” Anetra admitted once the pair had a moment alone.

“Better than you expected,” she corrected.

“Okay, better than I expected.”

Marcia nodded in satisfaction. “This has been fun,” she told her, “I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend anytime you need. Even just for fun.”

She quirked her brow. “Just for fun?” A small smirk tugged at her lips, “careful, Marsh, it almost sounds like you’re asking me out for real,” she warned, stepping closer and resting a hand on her waist, then moving to her back to push her closer. “Was this you soft-launching a real thing?”

“Not intentionally, that’s not why I offered,” she shook her head. “But… I dunno, I think we have chemistry, I’d like to see where it goes if you would.”

Anetra replied by pulling her into a brief but deep kiss. “Guess you made an honest woman out of me.”

[piizunn]

it hides in the light by Dion Smith-Dokkie

The Bows, April 5th - June 22nd, 2024

it hides in the light presents a new body of experimental mixed-media works by artist Dion Smith-Dokkie that attend to embodiment, interface, information, and infrastructure.

Inkjet-printed stills taken from video works, satellite images of bodies of water, images of daily life, and select found images are broken down into ‘particles’. Using water, the particles are transferred onto paper, creating a collage. In this process, the images are liquefied and lose their discernibility: they synthesize and coalesce. The resulting compositions are further developed with watercolor, gouache, and ink.

The result is an indistinct, luminous work that straddles the line between non-representation and concrete location, videographic and painterly modes. The formal and conceptual tools utilized—mediation and translation via contact, transfer, diffusion, and mutation—become tactics of deliberately sensual and nebulous erotic self-representation. They extrapolate a diffused and empathic praxis of embodiment, self-location, and co-relation.

Dion Smith-Dokkie (he, they) resides uninvited on Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh homelands and territories. He was born in Fort St. John and grew up in the Peace River region of northeast BC and northwest Alberta. Dion locates themselves as a gay, mixed-race European-Indigenous man who lives with mental illness. He is a member of West Moberly First Nations, a Treaty 8 First Nation. They hold a BA in Women’s Studies from the University of Victoria (2015), a BFA in Painting and Drawing from Concordia University (2019), and an MFA in Visual Arts from the University of British Columbia (2021).

(Photos belong to me and the description and bio are courtesy The Bows’ website)

[noxmachinimafr]

Hi there, It has been such intensive weeks at work. I had no break in two weeks. Not surprisingly, today being my first full day off, I slept for 12 hours! Anyway, BlizzCon announcements are really cool for WoW, although I am that much into the new allied race. At least, several things sound pretty neat, and I am more intrigued than I was for DF story.

I took the opportunity of these quiet days to keep refining the official trailer of Untold Tale of Pandaria. The first version was hastily made to fit a deadline, while, now, I really have time to polish everything. I first worked on the introductory sequence featuring Jiora'Kirh (Kirh) and Karl Whistlewind!

But the session of the day was dedicated to Garrosh Hellscream. The in-game model is already quite good, and because Garrosh is an emblematic NPC, there is not that much customization I can do. Still, the map is a bit low-def, which gives the tattoo the typical problem of ugly pixelization on the shoulders. And another point is that his necklace (seen in all the artworks and GCI cinematics) is absent! So I have to craft it. Regarding the axe, there are different models in the game files. The original Gorehowl was a bit too low poly and low def, while the upgraded model (dating back to WoD) was the one of the Alternative Draenor, so NOT the real Gorehowl.

In other words, I had to do the same work I did previously on Dranosh Saurfang's axe that I had made from BFA Varok's axe.

(I still love this model so much! :3) The work is not fully done yet, but the model got a nice refinement. The leather will be made in 3D. And I will implement his shoulder pads if needed at this time.

I can now start working on this scene of the trailer. Please appreciate that my OC is nothing but a shrimp compared with the warchief! ^^'

And, ahhh, look! I need to paint all the panels of the shrine, of course! Plus smallest panels with the pandaren clan portraits that I haven't placed yet. O__O

As I used to say, working on Blender gives a lot of freedom. But choosing to build a Japanese/Sichuan-Pandaren universe means that I have plenty to do from scratch! Hope you enjoy the sneak peek!

[doctordragon]

Another post on my mixed feelings about the dragonflight story.

First of all, this story really fucking touched me. The themes of family, healing from trauma, and renewal are constant and made me feel some serious emotions.

But it had a lot of genuinely lost potential that could have made the cheesy ending of Azerothians portaling in to fight for their world an actually satisfying conclusion. SL wasn't on Azeroth or about Azerothians; the last expansion we had on Azeroth was about a massive war between the Horde and Alliance. Then come dragonflight everyone is standing around holding hands and singing as if both factions weren't at war like 6 years ago. DF had a lot of opportunity to show members of the Alliance and Horde slowly coming to trust each other, yet the only questline that really Does That is the one with Lillian and Shandris. Not to mention, the massive wasted potential that is Alexstrasza's entire character. She has the potential to be really interesting but she spent the whole expansion being stupid and moping.

But a part of me also HATES that DF was a bright and happy expansion. This may be a Gamer Bro take but I think they're right on this one: put the war back in Warcraft. I miss the tone of BFA and MOP where you would have brightly colored, even goofy aesthetics in a fantasy world that is beyond fucked up. I miss zones like Nazmir where we would just casually genocide an entire race. I miss when it was very clear that we as heroes, were not always moral or in the right. There are a billion happy colorful fantasy worlds but Warcraft feels unique due to the bright aesthetics placed over dark subject matter. I hope TWW goes back to those darker themes and stories.

[skymagpie]

Favorite kind of wow elf?

Difficult question, but I have to say Night Elves - however I like the version where they are these huge, muscular, very dangerous forest elves. I like when they look genuinely unsettling, eyes glowing among the trees, they have these huge fangs and claws and long hair and beards. Seeing Tyrande be just so muscular and vicious in the latest expansions makes me so happy + Malfurion just obliterating that one Horde party in BfA (sorry to the Horde tho).

I love their softer priestess and silly little frolicking druid men aesthetic too, love the cuteness between Tyrande and Malfurion, but I want them to also be scary to enemies, you know? I like what Maiev has going on too.

I feel like Nightborne are growing on me in a funny way, but surprisingly after 13 years, I ended up maining a night elf. And my actual favourite race are Draenei, everything about them is so pleasing to me!

[consequencesofargentdawn]

I've gotta say, it's hilarious seeing the same AD posters constantly lamenting the supposed 'ruination' of WoW bending over backwards to praise a rather obnoxious crossover event in FFXIV with Fall Guys. I don't know how familiar you are with the game but it's notorious for jumping the shark in recent years by rather shamelessly retconning large amounts of established lore, justifying acts of in universe genocide (so long as they benefit the supposed 'good guys') and resorting to increasing amounts of bizarre crossovers and bottom of the barrel 'humour'. I suppose it's too much to expect consistency from these people though it's interesting how the stuff they claim to be against is suddenly fine if there's cutesy cat or bunny races involved. I'm posting this mostly in the hope that it exposes their hypocrisy when they inevitably whine to the high heavens about whatever Blizzcon unveils.

The 10K+ Trout Squadron (credit to one of our recent contributors for that name) who post so much on the server forums will love anything that is currently in vogue and not Blizzard. It truly is strange. While we have little to say on the actual Final Fantasy XIV game itself to say (this is after all an Argent Dawn World of Warcraft orientated place), we do find it very odd that those who showed great umbrage towards the way Blizzard's corporate culture and disgusting abuses done in recent years have curiously nothing to say about Square Enix.

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Square Enix - who publicly and proudly have declared they are all in on Bitcoin and NFT quackery and have had senior executives repeatedly make pledges to integrate such systems into their games because games allegedly are not about fun any more.

Square Enix - who have also had long brewing problems with treatment of workers as well, and in some cases we could even argue have treated their employees worse with any sort of harassment complaints being typically brushed under the rug as is with the majority of those in the culture of corporate Japan. What is even more striking is this kind of culture is also given carte blanche on their international branches as well.

Square Enix - who seemingly have major infrastructural problems to their main money-maker (Final Fantasy XIV) to the point that even on expansion launch days servers collapse for over two weeks after the initial launch. Consider WoW's launch history has never been 'smooth' (though Shadowlands and Dragonflight were remarkably softer than BFA and Legion), this is also an issue that simply gets shrugged off and accepted.

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You do raise likely very good points about the actual in game content being problematic, we've had a number of DMs over the years regarding the game, though none of our editor team have spent any significant time playing it - so we cannot truly pass on nuanced judgement.

One constant however has been the overall greater toxicity we've had reported regarding Final Fantasy XIV players. The veneer of "super welcoming, super nice" is a major red flag, as is the apparently unwillingness for any sort of critical discussion around the actions of players. As we have mentioned in one of our few posts about this game previously - Final Fantasy XIV has an exceedingly efficient (perhaps too much) reporting systems. While this is good at stopping direct in game harassment, it also perpetuates a toxic culture of insincerity and fakery and players attempting to grief and harass their enemies in more creative and insidious ways.

Much of the actual harassment tends to happen within small cabal controlled discord communities who have in many cases hundreds, if not thousands of players and are managed by a coterie of unaccountable fanatics who decide what is the discourse allowed and not allowed. Doesn't this sound familiar to something we've had to grapple with on Argent Dawn for a long time?

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However, as likely observed by our readers here, these unthinking 'like' farming drones who regurgitate the current 'consensus' of the popular hivemind will be completely unable to to process their hypocrisy at slovenly praising everything Square Enix does while attacking everything Blizzard does (even the reforms and changes they have put into place in recent years).

[ansu-gurleht]

so for me personally i only really care about wow for world content and story which means the zones are kind of the most important part for me? so i wanted to talk a bit about the zones in dragonflight. in the order you visit them:

the waking shores: gives me wod and bfa vibes tbh. i quite like it! it's not my fave zone but it's cool, the spires everywhere are annoying when you first visit on your first character but once you get all the dragonriding tokens and talents it's pretty cool. cool vibes overall

ohn'ahran plains: LOVE this zone. really grew on me more and more as i explored/quested. the flat/slightly hilly layout of it reminds me of the barrens tbh, when was the last time we had a cool zone like that? wod nagrand maybe? nagrand vibes as well minus the floating islands. LOVE the centaur as a race and culture, they're really neat. their faction armor pieces are also dope. love this place

azure span: when was the last time we had a proper "snow" zone? frostfire in wod? there were some snowy areas in kul'tiras in bfa, and some in highmountain in legion iirc, but not a full-fledged snow ZONE. i love snow zones, bc i was addicted to dun morogh as a kid. azure span has more northrend vibes than dun morogh tbh but it's still nice. love the tuskarr as well, and the emphasis on fishing for them. only gripe with this zone really is the way the elevation works? like there's a huge drop in elevation as you travel east-to-west. it's a pain when you're flying east, especially before you get all your dragonriding talents. other than that, and some collision issues with trees completely killing your speed, it's a really great zone!

thaldraszus: kind of boring tbh, which is sad, it's cool in theory. big mountainous zone with floating islands and a vague autumnal color scheme, what's not to love? there's just not a lot going on here, unfortunately. you barely spend any time here in the main quest. there's some side quests to do here and there but most of the zone's questing takes place at that hourglass bronze dragonflight place. which was a cool questline i'm ngl but still, the overall zone felt really underdeveloped quest-wise. valdrakken is nice, has everything you'd need out of a capitol city. very easy to fly around on your dragon as well.

forbidden reach: it's a cool starting zone, fun to fly around in. don't have much to say about this one tbh. it's cool.

zaralek caverns: have not explored this one much yet. working on it. might update this post later after i've played in it more.

the emerald dream: not out yet! might also update after it's released and i've had a chance to play in it.

overall: i really like the dragon isles! it's all connected, unlike shadowlands, the disjointedness of which was really disappointing tbh, and the dragon isles being back on azeroth and as a result less cosmic in nature is refreshing, even though the shadowlands concepts were really cool!

i do have a small gripe with the overall progression of the dragon isles, though, and that's that you get flying almost immediately. i always liked the period at the beginning of an expansion before flying was unlocked where you just had your ground mount and you had to really explore the land itself. but i understand that dragonriding was a big selling point of this expansion and so it had to be introduced early. it doesn't take TOO much out of the exploration, but i feel like there are a lot of place my feet have never touched because i just fly over them.