#imaginge challenge

[fablelady]

dune imagine challenge... kinda?

alright so this is just a fun-if-ya-wanna-try kinda imagine thingy?

basically it's this: Imagine Reader is an eldritch/Goddess who went to a dormant like sleep before mankind travelled across the stars. when they wake up they see how utterly chaotic and gone to shit everything is and is like "the fuck? i leave you lot along for at least 5 mins?!". So Reader goes about fixing things in the dune universe, but then Reader comes across arakis and is curious. they watch as life goes about down there and they see Stilgar and is basically like "oh shit, he's hot... do i really like a mortal sand man?... yes, yes i do" and the rest i leave up to any dune fic writer!!

really i just wanna see yall try your hand at writing an eldritch/ god reader in the dune universe!! hell it dosen't even have to be with stilgar it can be with other characters too!! just thought it would be fun for yall to try and see how a universe with no actual gods or immortale acendended Eldritch like beings will react to having one around!!!

rule 1: just have fun with it!!

[9haharharley1]

NUMBER 1 DP NUMBER 1 DP PLZ OMFG!!!

For the kink prompts - I have never written breeding kink before, I never thought I would write breeding kink, yet here we are!

I don't think I've ever written anything like this, and I'm not sure that I'll ever write anything like it again. This was a challenge. Forgive my filth

---

Danny jumped as large hands landed on his hips, gasping as fingers dug into soft flesh. Two thumbs stroked his back, just above his ass, and he could already feel his cheeks heating up. He set down the clean bowls he had in his hands, taking a break from unloading the dishwasher, and glanced over his shoulder.

Vlad didn't meet his gaze. Instead, he stared down at his ass, a hungry gleam in his eye bordering on near manic. Danny couldn't suppress a shiver.

"Uh... You okay, fruitloop?" he asked, hesitant.

Hot fingers dug under the waistband of his pants, stroking his quickly heating skin, and Danny fell forward a little. He placed both hands on the edge of the counter, arms shaking as a surge of heat and want raced through him, his nerves lighting up and making his hair stand on end.

It still amazed him what the older halfa could do to him.

"You're so perfect, Daniel..." Vlad muttered. He leaned down, licking a hot trail up the back of Danny's neck. Danny shivered. His breath came out in a shaky sigh, and if he leaned a little further forward on his elbows and stuck his ass out a little more for Vlad to palm at, then that was nobody's business but their own.

Vlad rucked his shirt up, a hand sliding up Danny's front, over the flat plain of his stomach to his chest, where he pinched a nipple gently. Danny moaned quietly.

"All mine," Vlad rumbled in his ear. He pressed a soft kiss to Danny's cheek, then to his ear, licking down the shell of his ear until he nibbled the lobe. "All mine, my perfect little badger..."

Danny let out a breathy laugh. "Wh-what's gotten into you?" he asked. Vlad kissed down the back of his neck. His hands had a hard grip on his hips, the vague form of an erection pressing into Danny's ass. Danny's head fell forward, feeling his own arousal build, and he rocked back to meet his lover. "Y-You're loopier than usual, f-fruitloop..."

Vlad hummed. "Am I?" he murmured softly into Danny's skin. His hand slid back down to Danny's waist. It rested on Danny's stomach, petting gently. "Perhaps I just like looking at you," he kissed Danny's neck again, laving his tongue back up to his ear, "imaginging all the filthy things I want to do to you." He rutted his hips hard against Danny.

Danny moaned, rocking forward on the counter with the force of Vlad's thrust. "And what-" Danny moaned as Vlad bit his ear again, fingers digging hard into his hip. "What is it you want to do to me?"

Vlad was quiet, licking and nibbling at Danny's neck and ears. Had Danny known better, he might have thought the man was distracted. Unfortunately for Vlad, he did know better and knew the man was stalling.

Which meant he was about to bring up something new for them to try.

Danny pushed himself up a little, still leaning most of his weight on the counter, but making himself tall enough so he could turn his head and capture Vlad's lips in a kiss. They both moaned, Danny raising an arm to wrap around the older man to hold him in place, tugging on his ponytail. Vlad sucked at his lip, their tongues quickly meeting, and if Danny had a line of drool dripping down his chin when they pulled away, neither of them mentioned it. Vlad's pupils were blown wide, tinged with a faint ring of red, and Danny moaned. He nibbled Vlad's chin.

"Come on, fruitloop," he murmured, kissing along Vlad's jaw. "You're not getting shy on me, are you? What do you want to do to me?" He rubbed his ass harder against Vlad's cock.

Vlad groaned. He pulled Danny closer, rocking harder against him, one hand pressed hard to Danny's belly, the other bruising his hip. Danny panted against his neck.

"I want to fuck you," Vlad growled. He dove in for a rough kiss, quick and filthy, his tongue plunging into Danny's mouth without warning and making the boy moan. He pulled away just as quick to bend Danny over the counter, pinning him with his weight. Heat shot straight to Danny's gut, making him sigh as Vlad pressed most of his weight down on him. "I want to fuck you so hard you'll be screaming my name all night."

Danny whined. His cock was trapped against the cabinets, his pants uncomfortably tight, and Vlad didn't seem like he was about to give him any relief anytime soon with the mood he was in. Danny resigned himself to his trapped fate, more than willing to hear his lover out if it meant he was going to keep him pinned like this.

"You gonna tie me up, Daddy?" he asked softly, moaning around that word that drove Vlad insane. Tonight was no different.

"Naughty boys don't get to use their hands," Vlad growled back. "Have you been naughty, Daniel?"

"N-No, Sir..." Danny sighed. His head fell forward as Vlad rutted into him. "I've been good, Sir..."

Vlad hummed. "Hm... You have been rather good lately, haven't you?" He said it more to himself than to Danny, so Danny simply moaned and wiggled his ass. Vlad's nails dug into his skin. "My good boy deserves a reward, doesn't he?"

"Ooh, yes, Sir," Danny moaned in response. "Please, Daddy, I can be so good for you..."

"I know you can, my boy." The hand on Danny's stomach stroked lightly, almost teasingly, and Danny thought Vlad might be generous and free his aching erection from its confines. Instead, it traveled up, brushing lightly over a nipple. Danny gasped. Vlad did it again, and then to the other side. "I want to see these swollen and red..." Vlad hissed in his ear. He pinched a little harder at them. Danny whined, feeling hot all over. "I wonder..." Vlad tugged at his nipples, and Danny arched with a short cry. "If I play with these enough, could I get you to leak? I know I can get you desperate and crying; you're practically a bitch in heat under me right now. But can you come from it? We should test that out."

With every unconcerned rut of his hips, he caused Danny to press into the cabinets. The friction on his cock and the gentle torture to his chest was making Danny's head spin. He panted ragged breathes against the countertop.

"Daddy, please..." he whined softly. He pressed his forehead to cool marble.

Vlad groaned, that title never failing to get a rise out of him. "Oh, my beautiful boy..." he whispered into a flushed ear. His other hand moved up Danny's chest to pull at his other nipple. Danny keened brokenly. "I could be that..." Vlad continued to murmur, and Danny sucked in a sharp breath. He pushed his hips back harder to meet Vlad's. "I could be a daddy to a child..." He sounded broken himself, rubbing himself against Danny through their trousers. "Our child."

Danny's breath left him in a sudden gasp, rocking hard into the cabinets as the heat in his belly ignited.

"Would you like that, Daniel?" Vlad whispered, almost reverently as Danny whined, but he could hear the smirk in Vlad's voice as he continued, "Would you like me to fill you up with my seed? Get you nice and fat with my child?" He rolled Danny's nipples between his fingers, and Danny arched into the feeling, already feeling raw and sensitive.

"Oh, god..." the younger man whispered brokenly, unable to control the rutting of his hips, desperate for even the tiniest bit of friction on his cock, whimpering as Vlad rocked into him.

Vlad hummed in delight. "Oh, do you like that, Daniel?" He pressed his full weight into Danny, grinding against him so hard that Danny could nothing but take it and just feel. "Do you like thinking about me fucking you over and over again, filling you up until you're positively leaking?" Danny whined, breathless. "I'll have to shove a plug in you just to keep it all in, make sure it takes in that lovely cunt of yours."

Danny moaned, helpless against the onslaught of filth and sensation, bent over the counter as Vlad assaulted his nipples to the point of pain.

And still he moaned for more.

"Look at you," Vlad growled, removing one hand from Danny's chest to place it on his back, pinning him in place. "You're practically gagging for it already. I really will have to go all night just to satisfy this greedy cunt, won't I?"

And then his other hand was on Danny's crotch, massaging hard at the aching flesh trapped in too-tight jeans, and Danny wailed brokenly.

"Please, Daddy, please!" he begged, sticking his ass out even further, spreading his legs to give the man better access, but Vlad didn't move to unzip him. He just kept squeezing him through thick fabric, and Danny sobbed.

"Please, what, Daniel?" Vlad hissed through his own wrecked moan, grinding harder and more frantically against him. Danny keened.

"Please, Daddy, I want your cock!" Danny wailed. He humped harder into Vlad's hand as his desperation grew. "I want you to fuck me, want you to fill me up!" He moaned pitifully against heated marble as drool dripped from his lips between desperate pants.

Both of Vlad's hands were back on his hips, suddenly crowding in close as he thrust hard against Danny's ass. They both moaned, the taller man practically lifting the younger halfa clear off the floor in his frantic state. "Gonna fill you up until you're fat with my seed, Daniel," Vlad growled.

"Yes, please..." Danny groaned back. He tried to rut against the counter, feeling his balls already drawing up tight and vaguely a little amazed that he was getting off on this kind of play. "Fill me up, Daddy, stuff me full with your cock! I want to have your baby, want to give you a child of our own!"

"Oh, fuck..." The sudden groan behind him was all the warning Danny had before he was suddenly shoved roughly against the counter, his trapped cock rubbing just right against hard marble and fabric. He came with a high-pitched cry as Vlad ground against him, his boxers quickly soaking through as Vlad pushed him further against the hard surface. He whimpered, unable to do more than accept the rough treatment as his body went limp, and completely uncaring about it at all. Drool clung to his lips and chin, and he sincerely hoped Vlad intended to follow through with this little scenario they painted together.

A heavy weight draped over his back, and Danny groaned quietly.

"Do you mean it?" Vlad whispered into his ear, breath hot on his skin. Danny shivered. "Do you... Do you want to have a baby with me?"

Danny chuckled even as his breath was pushed out of him from the older man's weight. "I m-mean... I'd be lying if I said I h-hadn't thought about it..."

Vlad grew quiet. Danny focused on breathing, enjoying the warmth seeping into him from the older man.

Then he yelped, forced away in a sudden quick motion as Vlad stood, pulling him with him with a hand on his throat and another on his chest, nipple pinched between thumb and forefinger. His breath left him in a gasping moan, and he melted against Vlad, cheeks flushing darkly. He looked up at the older man through heavy eyes.

Vlad gazed back with a smirk, feral, and eyes red and manic. A thrill of fear shot up Danny's spine, and his dick twitched. "Then maybe we should see how long I have to fuck you before it takes, hm?"

Danny grinned back, equal parts fearful and horny as hell. "Oh, fuck yes..."

---

Did I do it right?

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I just laughed to myself imaginging Ewan doing the one chip challenge. Mans mouth would be on fire haha

Can you imagine him doing Hot Ones 😭 he would behave like an attempt is being made on his life.

[memeticexistence]

Absolutely obsessed with the idea of Hauntswitch taking place around halloween and Jude going "Oh he's a wendigo :)" whenever people point out how odd Dammek is and using that as an excuse to wave away his weird behaviors.Him being paranoid as fuck?Fear of tall people?Aversion to sunlight?He's just in character,don't worry about it.

Tbh I think canon Dammek WOULD be a cryptid that only comes out of his hive once a year/sweep so that tracks.

Also this absolutely won't happen but Dammek recieving a papercut and freaking tf out that Jude will see bc it turns out he's a candyblood and Jude being clueless would be cool.

Like imaginge Dammek panicking he's gonna get shot or something when he gets found out bcs he expects alternian and earth society standards to be the same but turns out they're bullshit in an entirely different way.(Hussie write actual POC characters challenge)

I also want you to imagine a dissapointed Jude bc he expected troll blood to be cool at least,but it's the same boring stuff we have.Like sure,the alien he found in the attic is really interesting ,but he's pretty human looking,blood and all.He thought he'd get something cooler.

Dammek is very offended by this and goes on a whole tangent how badass his whole species is.Jude doesn't buy it for a second because Dammek has no proof and he is left silently seething.

Though I do wonder if he would explain how the hemospectrum works in this scenario.On one hand he's not stigmatized anymore and can finally geniuenly connect with someone,but on the other him trying to revolutionize alternia is a big part of his character and it's pretty impossible to talk about that if you can't explain why you're revolutionizing in the first place.

[beyuji]

yuji doesn't think it'd be that out of the ballpark for them to try it out eventually. it's both music and acting, and sr media dabble in both. surely that would be something in their repertoire.

"i wouldn't mind it," she comments, imaginging it. it'd be nice to try-- it'd making general acting a bit more bearable, in yuji's opinion. mix something she enjoys in something she's challenging herself to do. "maybe we can pitch an idea for it. get all the trainees together and orchestrate a musical play or something." it'd be nice for an end of the year evaluation, or a quarterly. it'd be a fun change.

"i think i'd have a better time feeling immersed in it, at least." yuji huffs a laugh under her breath. she always feels stilted and awkward, standing there reciting lines and trying her best to recreate the emotion they need portrayed. music makes it feel easier, in her opinion. "if they give us the chance, we should try it out." if they ever do. though hopefully debut comes first before that.

if there's one thing eunae prides herself on, it's her ability to stand out. she's always wanted, and more importantly gotten, to be in the spotlight. trying to stand out feels more of a competition now, more so than ever before.

the trainee knows she doesn't lack the skills, but does she have enough of that special something that idols need?

eunae's on her best behavior during these workshops, drinking in the knowledge from coaches and senior idols alike. it's a test, after all, or at least it feels like it. there's eyes everywhere, and she wants to do her best.

she's laser focused, almost missing yuji's voice when she speaks. she's never seen herself being an actress, and even though her acting skills are good enough, it doesn't interest her as a side hustle. eunae wants to sing, desperately so. maybe musical theater would mesh together the best of both worlds?

"you think we'll ever get to do that?" eunae asks, genuinely curious. "musical theater, that is. i feel like that'd be way more up my alley than . . . you know, this," she motions around the room.

[void-writing]

What if Danny's core is multi-elemental or adaptive? He temporarily stole Vortex's power, called on fireballs, and shot electricity in the show.

What if Frostbite is partly wrong about Danny's core? But only because his ice powers were the first ones that manifested on their own before he accidentally called on them. So they're currently his strongest elemental powers which has affected his core. Some things just happen by coincidence. Plus he got actual training for them.

Not necessarily CiM related, I just found it cool.

(Although I've been imaginging the DC characters' outside reactions if Danny should suddenly manifest flames. XDD Meanwhile, Danny is like,

"Shit, I forgot I could do this. Why does my core feel differently?!? AND THERE WASN'T THAT MUCH FIRE BEFORE."

XDD Adaptive powers for Danny in the most inconvenient way possible now that he's gotten stronger and more stable. So his core hammers out the next power set.)

lmao

I'm sticking with just a plain vanilla ice-core for CiM for the sake of my sanity. Danny's got enough going on power-wise in this story, so I'm not going to make even more work for myself by giving him the Swiss-army-knife-equivalent of cores because I just know that will get out of hand way too fast lol

BUT. I do enjoy a good adaptive-core Danny story :3 Meta-wise it makes sense (at least to me) that Danny's core-affinity would be a lot more flexible than other ghosts on account of him being alive and still possessing the inherent dynamism that comes with the living.

The next big fic that I'm noodling on is a halfa!Jason story (and maybe just liminal!Batfam in general), so I think I'll use omni-core!Danny there for the sake of the chaos that you've proposed. I do love me the idea that Danny is like the ultimate chameleon, the epitome of invasive species that out-adapts anything that could challenge him XD

But that's not going to be for a while. CiM has been going for three months and I'm only just breaking into double digit chapters. And I'm not a third of the way through!

[husbandomail-archive]

Honestly XY Megas is one of the all time Pokémon mechanics ever.I loved the fact megas was built of trust and love between the trainer and Pokémon.

I know a lot of people want them back(including me) but I don’t think they ever will unless we get a x and y remake which I would love.

I get you with the open world thing cuz I don’t people many if any open world game so sometimes my unfocused brain gets bored if I don’t have direct orders on what to do.

I don’t know if u played arcues but for me Im struggling to complete it idk why but I cuz cant lol so I hope I don’t for this game.

And yes the teams team skull and big bad guzma will all ways be favs becausw of the goofiness.HOWEVER how this was balanced out was with the Aeather paradise plot making it serious when need be and to show a more looming threats hiding underneath.

Team yell was so lazy I don’t even think they gave it more than a minutes thought.To me it was also like they wanted to replicate the vibe of team skull but failed miserably.So I hope they bring it back with this regional evil team and make them super evil again.

And with the badges thing I’m split to be honest. It does make sense for people to do it at different times seeing as they might live closer to that gym and it’s never stated to have an order(like you said with other trainers and brock)but to make it just makes the build up less important?Like I could go to the last first and takes away suspense.Idk to be fair you could do that in let’s go eevee I think?

(God my writing is everywhere lol)

I have a trainsona as well I just cant hack the children thing.it makes the game better imaginging I’m dealing with all this shit and it fun thinking of me and my Pokémon bonding lol.

I just hope the graphics are good and the world looks good instead of blocky.

Now I’m sorry for rambling lol.

I haven't finished Arceus yet either! I'm ruled by my hyperfixations, so when they switched I wasn't really able to keep playing, but now that I'm Back On Pokemon I'll probably get back to it lmao. a friend sent me a shiny Chimchar bc it was my first pokemon, so I'm really excited to have him lmao,, I've also seen plenty of spoilers by now and omg. Giratina is my favorite legendary, I Must See It Again

I get what you're saying about the gyms too! the final gym leaders always feel like strong obstacles bc you've already come so far, they're the last thing standing in your way,, I've felt that same way about the E4, since they've started letting us challenge them in any order? facing Lucian in Diamond definitely felt a lot more intense bc I HAD to fight my way through others to get to him, and I don't mind it in Unova bc it was the first time we could choose the order, but since then it's just been a lil bland imo. But maybe that's also just bc it's been constant too? I wouldn't mind alternating leagues, or being able to challenge them in any order on rematches.

speaking of evil teams and all that. I know very little will ever hit the personal level of "holy SHIT team rocket's boss is the LAST GYM LEADER," and "MY RIVAL IS THE SON OF TEAM ROCKET'S BOSS????" but. I'd love to have more of a personal relationship with the evil team? maybe a rival who gets sick of losing to you, so they join the villains? or a character like Colress, who's only with them for his own reasons and is still clearly interested in you too. again, I do adore N Harmonia, so I'm partial to his role in everything too lmao. a part of me is hoping that the professors end up involved, bc I think it would be super cool.

I do think SWSH had a lot of potential; Rose did have a point, but the story pacing was a total mess. like,, Galar's air is apparently so toxic that the poison-type Weezing gained a regional form to PURIFY the air, they could've done sooo much with the base ideas they have there.

most of this talking is just the Writer Brain I can't turn off though lmao, I love Pokemon more than basically anything and it's been a constant throughout my entire life; I'm beyond excited for these games and I can't WAIT

AND DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR RAMBLING, THAT'S MY LINE LMAO

[fightmeyeats]

“Jungle Puzzles” and the Indigenous City as challenge/invitation: a Post-Colonial Intervention on “Dora and the Lost City of Gold”

I saw Dora and the Lost City of Gold (2019) at a local cheap theater with one of my friends last night and, to quote my friend, it was “wild”. Overall Dora is a fun movie that offers very important and positive Latine representation, and most of the minor things that bothered me (lack of narrative cohesion, the unrealistic absence of the sheer amount of paper involved in actual archaeology) certainly wouldn’t bother the core demographic (children). However, Peter Debruge, writing for Variety, commented:

““Dora and the Lost City of Gold” goes out of its way to establish that the character isn’t a tomb raider or a treasure hunter, but rather an explorer, risking her life for the love of knowledge. That ranks her as perhaps the most “woke” big-screen adventurer since the invention of cinema, making Indy’s indignant “That belongs in a museum!” seem so 20th century by comparison” (“Film Review: ‘Dora and the Lost City of Gold’”).

This is where, I think, we get into some trouble. Spoilers below.

There are, on the surface, some obvious differences between a “treasure hunter” and an “explorer.” Treasure hunting is destructive and extractive, taking artifacts based on how high their potential resale value might be, with a complete disregard for the surrounding artifacts/environment, let alone the cultural meaning of the either artifact being extracted or the things being destroyed to retrieve it. An explorer, we are told, doesn’t take the gold. 

“Exploration” and “explorer,” however, are highly loaded terms. Exploration is intrinsically linked to colonialism and imperialism, and explorers have historically been central to the production of knowledge and the generation of public and private interest which paved the way for colonization. They have also, historically, taken the gold. This is highly evident in the way that Cambridge Dictionary defines “explorer” as “a person who travels to places where no one has ever been to learn about them” because if explorers go where no one has ever been and explorers go to places where people of color have lived and are actively living, we now know who counts as a person and who doesn’t. To be fair, this specific phrasing is not a universal definition, but other definitions still contain the same problematics. Google Dictionary, for example, defines “explorer” as “a person who explores an unfamiliar area; an adventurer”. Here we can maybe concede that the “unfamiliar area” is unfamiliar to the person exploring it not an area that “no one” is familiar with, but again when we consider how the term is applied, explorers implies an emptiness to the region being explored: someone on vacation might “explore” the city of New York, but they wouldn’t be considered an explorer for doing so. 

This leads us into the problematic of “jungle puzzles.” The phrase is first used in the movie by Randy, the cliche socially awkward nerd, after they have fallen into an aquifer. Dora and Randy both notice that the star map on the roof is wrong, prompting Randy to say it must be a jungle puzzle and pull a lever at random in order to correct the star alignment and reveal something hidden. Dora says there is no such thing as jungle puzzles, the room begins to fill with water, and they realize the star map was in fact accurate the whole time and they had just been looking at it wrong. This scene offers an excellent subversion of the “jungle puzzle” trope which is so often utilized in jungle-action/explorer flicks. In the images and rhetoric of colonialism, we frequently see the “challenge as invitation” theme appear, and often in ways which are very violently sexualized. This model is not only applied to colonial imaginings of colonized women/women of color, but to the feminized land itself, and it is very much as rape-y as this implies. The entire jungle puzzle trope is centered around the idea that ancient and/or indigenous peoples built their cities and their civilizations in order to serve as “escape the room” tests of courage, morality, and knowledge for outsiders, rather than for actual use by the inhabitants of those cities/members of those civilizations. It carries over the idea that the challenge of solving the puzzle invites in explorers/colonizers, and often it further imagines a universal morality and understanding of value which the explorer/colonizer can access and succeed at. Because of this, having a scene where explorers believe that an element of indigenous civilization was designed for outsiders to “solve” in order to be “rewarded” only to realize that they not only misunderstood the accuracy of an Incan star map, but that the entire structure was just a regular part of Incan life that had nothing to do with outsiders is an important intervention.

Unfortunately, upon arrival at the city of Parapata this initial intervention is lost, as the children quickly realize there are in fact “jungle puzzles” both to enter the city and to view the giant golden monkey statue. I do want to emphasize here that between Indiana Jones and Dora and the Lost City of Gold, it is obviously important and even radical to see the rugged individual (cishet white man) model of Indiana Jones replaced by four kids--two of whom are Latinx and one of whom is played by an Australian Aboriginal woman--working together, and this shift is apparent in the way they characters interact with the city and its guardians. However, because it uses the same tropes it has many of the same issues. Again, it imagines that the city was built as a test, but the problematics of this representation are heightened by the arrival of los guardidos perdidos/the lost guardians and the old woman who initially tried to keep both the treasure hunters and the explorers away from Parapata but in the scene leading up to Dora solving the final puzzle, transforms into a beautiful young Incan princess and allows Dora to attempt the puzzle. 

First, as a separate but connected issue, the figure of the Incan princess also plays into the idea of indigenous peoples as mystical/mysterious, ancient, and displaced from/frozen in time. First of all, I again want us to think about definition and application; according to Google Dictionary “ancient” means “belonging to the very distant past and no longer in existence.” The Incan Empire fell in the 1530s under Spanish conquest and the Incan people still exist today; when we look at Europe, Stonehenge is ancient; you don’t ever hear about the “ancient” art of Leonardo di Vinci, and he was dead and buried for more than a decade before the Incan Empire was destroyed. While we are not told where the guardians or the princess comes from, what we are implicitly told by an de-aging of the Incan princess is that they seem to be connected to the “ancient” empty city rather than contemporary Incan society, and subsequently that there are no modern Incan peoples, or that the modern Inca are irrelevant to this story. Against this lack of contemporary Incan indigeneity, Dora refers to the student body of a Los Angeles high school as its “indigenous population” several times throughout the film; it is imperative to consider how this undermines modern indigenious communities and their experiences. 

Furthermore, the figure of the old-young princess fully leans into the sexually exploitative imagingings of colonized peoples/cities/lands as desiring of the entrance of outsiders; as an old woman, the princess’s role is to warn away, but as the young woman her role is to invite in the worthy, with the worthy being those who are able to solve the puzzle. Dora says she wants to learn, and the princess allows her to attempt the puzzle, but what exactly is Dora supposed to be learning (it seems the reward for the puzzle is the ability to view a giant gold statue of a monkey) and, more importantly, why is the entire city centered around this test? 

[blueelvewithwings]

Leap of Faith

For The Flash (TV), Arrow (TV)

Ship: Barry Allen/Oliver Queen

The man that killed his mother also took Barry's eyesight. That doesn't bother him most of the time, there's only one thing he's concerned about: How will he ever find his soulmate if he can't read the mark on his own arm?

Barry had always been fine with not being able to see. Of course it had its downsides, like people not taking him seriously, tripping him up, him getting lost a lot and so on, but it really hadn‘t bothered him too much. Joe had always been sure to not move furniture around without telling him or leave things on the floor so he had been able to get around the house without help. He and Iris quickly learned to accomodate Barry‘s needs, and he was fine. He had a stick for walking outside, and people in the neighborhood and at work knew him and often helped him out if he was indeed in need of help.

No, Barry had never really felt bad over being blind. He would love to see what his loved ones looked like, sure, but he had an image of them in his head that mirrored the love and warmth he felt for them and to him, that was enough. He sometimes sat on the couch with Iris, across from her, and felt along her face, mapping out her nose, eyes, lips, feeling her hair. He knew he could distinguish her from anyone else by touch, and that was enough for him.

There was one thing that bothered him though, and that was the one thing that no one could help him with.

There was the tiny little problem of his soulmark.

Everyone was born with a soulmark, or so they said, but it took a while for them to bloom on people‘s skin, mostly a spot on their underarms. Mostly it was during their teenage years that ink started to appear on their arms, slowly shaping itself into a name. The first name of their soulmate. Barry‘s mark had appeared a few years after the man in the lightning took his mother and injured his eyes, a few years after he became blind.

Barry had felt when his own mark appeared, and had spent many hours stroking it, trying to feel the ink in his skin, manipulating it into being raised enough for him to feel its outlines.

Sadly, it never worked. So Barry had a name on his skin, the name of his soulmate, the one he was destined to love, and he had no idea who it could be.

He had asked, of course. Asked his friends and family and people he had dated before, but he had gotten so many different replies or versions of „I can‘t really tell you“ that he had all but given up. He would have trusted Iris to tell him the truth, but she had never told him what it was on his arm. By her choked up reaction when she first saw the name on his arm Barry figured it must not be her, and that was verified when a few years ago she had found Eddie and had revealed to Barry that it was her now-husband‘s name that was tattooed into her skin.

So now Barry knew that it was not Iris, but she wouldn‘t tell him who it was either. All she ever said was that it was no one Barry knew. Or at least no one Iris knew.

After years of frustrations, and wanting to beg Joe and Iris to tell him the truth while still knowing that he wouldn‘t trust what they said because he wouldn‘t be able to verify it, he just gave up. He took to only ever wearing long sleeves, never showing his mark to anyone, and he never really mentioned it either.

What reason was there, anyway, if he wouldn‘t even be able to tell who his soulmate would be?

He started dating, and some of his dates pretended that it was his name on their arms, or maybe it was, but each of them gave Barry the distinct feeling that they weren‘t meant for him. Not with how uneasy they were with his blindness, or his social awkwardness, not with trying to talk him out of being a CSI because it was too dangerous for someone „like Barry“, apparently. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

So with every person that he dated, he felt more and more alone in the end, until he just stopped doing it altogether.

And then, just a few months after his last date, he was hit with a lightning strike that turned him into the fastest man alive, so suddenly he had to think about other things than the weird script on his forearm anyway.

Barry trained on the treadmill a lot, but he never dared to go out. What if he ran into a car by accident, or against a building, or missed the person he was running after or running for? He would not be able to take his stick with him when he went out running, so they had to come up with something else.

And of course, Cisco did come up with something else. He presented Barry with a camera to fasten onto his suit, so he could see where Barry was running form Barry‘s perspective and guide him through the city.

Of course, the first few test runs still ended with Barry in the water, or crashed in a pile of boxes, or in the completely wrong spot. But slowly, they worked out the kinks and it became smoother and smoother until Barry knew he could trust Cisco to guide him to where he needed to go without any accidents.

He could not run as fast as he migt have if he could see for himself, but he needed to go slow enough so Cisco could tell him where to go before it was too late. And soon it was all over the papers – as Dr. Wells told him – stories about the Flash, the new hero of Central City.

And thus, Barry‘s new life began.

It wasn‘t until he met Felicity again that he was also painfully reminded of his soulmark. Felicity was perfect for him, in just about every way, and he was perfect for her. But still, there was just no romantic spark between them. And when he had asked her, at some point, if it was her name on his arm, she had told him no. And something in her voice had made him trust her. So now he knew that it wasn‘t Iris, and it wasn‘t Felicity either. That only left the rest of the world as possible candidates then.

Now that he was around Felicity again he wondered what it would have been like to have her as his soulmate, to learn how to be around her and live with her. He couldn‘t really imagine it though, but he guessed it would have been pretty nerdy.

With seeing Felicity again came seeing Oliver again, and his voice gave Barry goosebumps just like the last time. He still couldn‘t believe that the famous Oliver Queen was the Arrow, but then again nothing seemed impossible in this world anymore.

Just like before, Oliver was abrasive and short with Barry, but somehow that didn‘t put him off. Instead, he felt challenged to be better, to show Oliver that he was worthy, and it elated him. He was so sick of always being handled with more care than anyone else because of his blindness. He wasn‘t made of glass, and he wasn‘t an invalid either. Disabled, yes, but not invalid. He hated it when people treated him differently, but Oliver didn‘t, and Barry adored him for it.

He found himself wanting to be friends with him, just like he was with Felicity, and sometimes when he wasn‘t paying attention a tiny voice in the back of his mind would start asking what name it was that Oliver had written on his skin.

Felicity had told him that no one had ever seen it, and that Oliver showed it to no one after he had had a bad experience with it. What that experience was, no one knew either.

Training with Oliver was amazing, even if Barry did end up getting shot in the back. In a way, it made him even happier, because it really meant that Oliver was not holding back with him. He was grumpy and short and abrasive, but still Barry noticed that he set his feet down a little heavier when he was approaching Barry than when he was already close and they were talking, and that he never touched Barry without announcing his presence first. He didn‘t treat Barry any differently, but he still respected the limits that the speedster had.

It was amazing. Barry had never felt so alive before.

But of course, being Barry, he didn‘t quite manage to express that, especially not after the little incident with Rainbow Raider. They had all thought that if Barry could not look at him – for obvious reasons – Rainbow Raider could not whammy him.

Well. Now they know that they were wrong.

And Oliver left again with the rest of his team, and Barry was alone once more. He knew that his friends weren‘t walking on eggshells around him, but still they weren‘t treating him the same as anyone else. Like Oliver had.

After he had left again, Barry found himself wondering more and more who might be lucky enough to deserve the Starling City vigilante, and somehow it was much easier imaginging himself with Oliver than it had been to imagine himself with Felicity. He wondered if things had been like this for Iris and Eddie, or Caitlin and Ronnie. He caught himself playing with his sleeve right over his soulmark again more and more, and Dr. Wells even called him out on it a few times. Sometimes Barry wondered if Dr. Wells had been a nicer man when he had still had his wife. And if his wife had been his soulmate.

He kept in touch with Oliver and his team, and sometimes even ran to Star City when phone calls just weren‘t enough. Sometimes he sat on a roof with Oliver, side by side, and they would talk about everything and nothing. Sometimes he asked Oliver to describe something to him, and usually Oliver would ask him about the way he experienced things right afterwards.

It was fun, and challenging, to try and explain the way he saw things to Oliver, sometimes a mixture of recent experiences and memories of what things looked like when he was a child, sometimes an impression that he had no image to connect to at all. That sometimes he wondered how his friends looked, how he himself looked, what people meant when they said he had such pretty green eyes. He could barely remember what his own eyes looked like at this point. And he wondered how Oliver‘s eyes looked, but he never told him that.

In return, Oliver told him about the things that Barry could not see, even if he didn‘t seem the type to do such things. One night he spent the entire evening telling Barry about the stars in the sky as they lay on their backs on a rooftop that was still warm from the sun even though it had disappeared hours ago. Barry listened intently and tried to imagine his darkness being sprinkled with little dots of light, and how it must feel to look up to them and know that they were lightyears upon lightyears away. He remembered stargazing with his father when he was a child, but by now it was more of a memory of elation and happiness than actual images of what the starry sky had looked like.

Sometimes Oliver would tell him about small things, too, little flowers with interesting colours or some interesting handwritten note that he had found. They also talked about their adventures from time to time, ways they had come up with to take the bad guys down, but mostly it was just downtime for both of them.

One night, Barry found himself leaning against Oliver‘s shoulder, and Oliver‘s arm came up around Barry, pulling him in to hold him close. Barry‘s hand came to rest on Oliver‘s thigh, and suddenly he found himself wondering again, about the question that was haunting him his whole life.

„What‘s the name on your arm?“ he asked the archer, and to his surprise Oliver just stiffened in response.

„You… wouldn‘t believe me anyway“ he told him after a while, and Barry nodded. Of course Oliver wouldn‘t want to share something as private as that with him.

„Of course“ he told him with a forced smile, „You know I have trouble believing that. Did I ever tell you that I had three dates in two weeks and all three told me it was their name on my arm? Yeah no, That‘s not how you get someone‘s trust.“ He knew he was babbling, and he needed to get out of here, fast.

After all, his hopes that it might have been his name on Oliver‘s arm were just about shattered now. Because if it was, Oliver would surely have told him, wouldn‘t he?

So he made up some excuse – likely something involving S.T.A.R. labs – and rushed back to Central City. This route he could do without Cisco by now, he knew a remote street that hardly anyone ever drove on. And if they did – well, Barry did have better ears than most.

But somehow, after that, he made up his mind.

He wanted to know. And he could trust his friends, right? So maybe if they would tell him, and they would all tell him the same name… then he would know, wouldn‘t he?

So he approached Iris again, his arm bared to her, asking her to just tell her the name. „I‘ll believe you this time“ he told her, almost begging her. „I know that I can trust you.“

But still, when he heard the name Oliver whispered from her, he couldn‘t help but to feel a tendril of doubt. After all, Iris would want him to be happy. So of course she would tell him the name of his current crush – or the person he currently had feelings for.

So of course, he went to Caitlin next, and when he heard Oliver from her as well he almost started to believe it. Caitlin would never lie to him, after all. But what if she also just wanted to make him happy?

He asked Dr. Wells next, but he just got a little chuckle and „You wouldn‘t trust me to tell you the truth anyway, Mister Allen“, which had been true up until now, but didn‘t help him now either.

Joe refused to tell him with the same reasoning, which Barry could understand, but it was also very frustrating because now he needed to know from as many people as he could to be sure that his name was Oliver indeed. Oliver Queen, maybe. It was truly funny to see how Barry Allen, puppy turned human and most trusting person in Central City, did not trust even his closest friends to tell him the truth when it came to his soulmark.

In the end, it was Cisco who came up with something. He approached Barry with a sort of scanner that could take a picture of something handwritten, transform it into a computer-readable font and then convert it into Braille from there. So Barry found himself in Cisco‘s lab, impatiently waiting for the little dots to appear on the field designed for him to read off of.

And then they started appearing with a little beep.

O.L.I.V.E.R.

Oh.

The next time Barry met Oliver, they met during the day, and Barry enjoyed the warmth on his face from the sun that was shining down on them generously today. It was warm, too. Too warm for a sweater. So Barry decided to ditch his.

„I‘ve always wondered, you know. I don‘t know what my soulmark says. Could you tell me?“ He turned his arm around, presenting the inside that he knew bore his mark to Oliver.

„I think I‘m ready to know.“

There was no sound beside him apart from a deep breathing that he knew indicated Oliver not being calm, but rather highly agitated. Oliver didn‘t speak, but Barry detected the change in his breathing that indicated he might have started to cry easily. It was a soundless crying, but Barry still knew it was happening.

Instead of an answer, he finally got a deep breath from the archer.

„Your real name… your full name, it‘s… it‘s Bartholomew, isn‘t it?“

And somehow, that said everything that he needed to know.

He reached out to grab Oliver‘s arm and drag him into his lap, easily rolling up the sleeves of the loose hoodie Oliver wore that day. He slid his fingers over arm and soon detected the slighly different texture of skin where the ink sat below it. Different enough to notice, not different enough to trace.

There was a hand on his own, and Oliver gently guided his fingers down below the tattoo, to a place where there were… tiny bumps? It only took Barry fractions of a moment to figure out that below Oliver‘s soulmate‘s name, there was Braille Script that was part of this soulmark. His fingers trembled a bit, and he took a deep breath to calm himself before he let them glide over the little dots.

B.A.R.T.H.O.L.O.M.E.W.

It was clear as day, spelled out in clearly separated dots of Braille, and Barry suddenly had to stifle a sob.

„Oliver“ he asked, his voice sounding urgent and needy even to his own eyes.

„Oliver, what name does my soulmate have?“

There was another beat of silence, but then there were two hands on his face and a forehead pressed against his own. He had heard about this, about lover‘s looking into each other‘s eyes like this, and it pained him that he couldn‘t give Oliver this moment the way it was supposed to be.

„Oliver“ Oliver rasped, sounding on the verge of tears.

„Your soulmate‘s name is Oliver, Bartholomew.“

And just like that, the dam seemed to break.

Barry threw his arms around Oliver‘s shoulders, burying his face in his neck as he cried softly. Twenty-eight years of not even knowing his soulmate‘s name, twenty-eight years of thinking he would never even be able to search, let alone find his soulmate, and now he had him. He had found him, and it felt right and it was everything he had wanted and all the things he hadn‘t expected all at once. Before Oliver, it hadn‘t even occured to him that his soulmate might not be a woman, but now he found that he really couldn‘t care less. Oliver was Oliver, and he was perfect like that.

He found himself pushed back a little, and a breathy little „may I?“ just in front of his face indicated what was about to happen. Sweet Oliver, always so attentive.

He nodded, leaning forward in what he hoped was the right direction, and he was rewarded with the soft bump of lips against his, warm and dry and wonderfully comforting. Barry had always loved kissing, had always reveled in feeling so close to someone else in a way that didn‘t require sight at all, but somehow that all felt more intense and more right with Oliver. Maybe this was what it meant to find a soulmate, then. To just get a feeling of belonging and rightness, and the indestructible feeling that this was right and would last.

Later they were sitting in Barry‘s apartment on the couch, and Barry had Oliver‘s arm in his lap again, tracing over the Braille script over and over again as if he couldn‘t believe it. And maybe some part of him really couldn‘t, but the feeling of Oliver‘s free hand carding through his hair and his chuckling at parts of the show that was running on TV made it feel so real. Barry wanted to take Oliver, lead him into his bedroom and go for it, but he also just wanted to sit here and revel in being together, in having Oliver‘s presence close to him, in knowing that he was who was meant to be with Barry.

But then, he had to snort suddenly, and he could feel more than hear Oliver turning towards him in confusion.

„Bartholomew. I can‘t believe you have Bartholomew on your arm instead of Barry.“

[missjanjie]

All I've been able to think about for days is imaginging going to Universal Studios and going on a ride and looking over and there's Victoria Elizabeth Black going "And if you look to your left this is where Jeff Goldbloom got eaten by a dinosour" (I don't know what happens in Universal Studios Park)

they do have guided tours in universal studios california (bcs they have a lot of tv and movie stuff there) but i don’t think they do in orlando unless they’ve added one since 2014 lol

and i see your tour guide victoria and raise you tour guide victoria but in her look from the d&d challenge

[kyoonglight]

thoughts on the possibility that renjun's dream challenge would be him doing ballet i'll cry

….. du dde i.. i didnt even Think about that………. fuc k oh ymg od shut up shut up SHUT UP i might. start crying. im just imaginging thise gifs of him spinning in the behind the scenes of bob filming and i???? ohhhoy mg od is it gonna happen pls anon i hope u spoke it into existence i didnt even th HINK ABOUT THAT FUCK OH YM GO D

send me asks that are like “thoughts on ___”

[strawberriesncigss]

Ian.

Hi. I love expressing every emotions I feel through writing and I thought this will be the best way to tell you this.

It's been two months-almost, since I started to get to know you. I'll always remember that moment wherein we're at work and instead of paying attention to what I should be doing, I was staring blankly to where you are seated wondering your intentions to me and what does it feel to be loved by someone after all the traumas I had and if that someone could be you. Imaginge where we are now? Like dude, I'm still amazed.

I wasn't expecting it to be this real. You came and suddenly it's all about you. Your impulsive decisions led us to where we are hahaha. Sometimes I ask myself if you are just carried away by the happenings but thanks for the never ending assurance. Everything happens so damn fast but as Elvis Presley said, "wise men say only fools rush in but I can't help falling in love with you".

Actually, you had me when you offered to come to the church with me. By that, I know God is working on us. I am glad that I was brought to you. You are putting every broken pieces of my heart back together. You are doing things for me without hesitation. I appreciate all of the things that you do for me. Thank you so much.

This is the one that I've been editing for the past days hehe. I have never been this sure. I know it's kinda cheesy and cringey but yea, I am choosing this day because I know that you are the 1 *uWu*

I am saying yes to everything Ian. And I'll say it to every good time, bad time, challenge, praise, loved and sadly filled moments that were ahead of us. To the smiles, laughs, tears, days without being together, and hours of being on the phone until we were reunited.

Thank you for loving me.

Love,

Girlfriend 🤍

[lucyhunterillustration]

⛲️Trevi Fountain⛲️

Going back to my dabble in animation, I was motivated to carry this forward to my updated project focus, and employ my practice to improve. I chose this famous landmark to match the current theme of my main project, and to re-design something so recognisable. I did make sure to check that there no copyright limitations on the landmark and there is not - hooray!

If there was one thing I learned while taking on this little side-piece, its that animating water is hard. Seeing as this piece was intended to display on the front page of my website, I wanted to demonstrate my capabilities. Trying my best to make the frames loop the action of water pouring was challenging. Instead of having the water move down and come to a halt before starting again, I attempted to loop the action seamlessly - something I still need practice on but I feel accomplished in this instance.

I particularly enjoyed re-painting the building with different and limited colour. I know next time not to make this part so detailed, as the GIF resulted in a very large file. However, this was very enjoyable to do and I intend to do more of these reasons-imaginging’ landmarks, and improve a little more on my technical skill.

[aprilatuni-blog]

300 word essay- ADAD1002

Binaries in art and design will illustrate two opposing theoretical viewpoints within the one artwork. When binaries are illustrated or depicted successfully, it has the ability to challenge and alter ones initial viewpoint.

Take for instance Brett Whiteley’s paintings  ‘The Christie Series.’  Whiteley’s  canvas paintings romanticize the murderous behavior of the 1950’s London killer John Christie.

Allegedly Christie posed as a doctor and lured women into his apartment for medical treatments. He raped and killed them,hiding their bodies within the walls and floorboards of his Notting Hill apartment.

Whiteley skillfully painted these scenes hitting a binary confronting concept that murder is beautiful, alluring and sexually provocative. Whiteley’s paintings show two abstract bodies entwined in each other. John Christies naked body is a smooth application of paint. It seductively en-wraps with the nude body parts of the female victim.

The paintings glorify murder- at least from the killers point of view. In fact, painted in a way suggesting that murder is beautiful can change the viewers insight as one gains understanding of the mind of a killer. New viewpoints like this can rupture societies, create protests and change government laws against crime.

Similarly, I have explored this binary concept of murder is beautiful in my 6 piece assignment series. I wanted to depict an aesthetic appeal that death and murder is aesthetically pleasing. Below is my explanation of my own work.

Murder 1; Represents an ecology of the jewellery I imaginged the victim to have worn. Her blondehair is caught and coiled around some leather. Murder 2; Depicts bloody fingers and the violence of the crime. The binding rope is a weapon used to hang her. Murder 3; Pattern design that references1950’s wallpaper. Perhaps similar to that on walls in Christies house. The hanging chain represents the victim being hung Murder 4;  A collection of Christies potions that he used to lure his gullible victims. Murder 5; A newspaper article design posted in London papers. The thread adds aesthetic elements tieing in with Christie’s stratigic murders Murder 6; A painting that was inspired by Brett Whiteleys Christie Series.

Bibliography

Sutherland, Kathie ‘ Brett Whiteley- A sensual Line 1957-67’  Macmillian Publishers Australia 2010

Sutherland, Kathie ‘ Brett Whiteley- A sensual Line 1957-67’ 10 Rillington Place [1964-65} { print image } pp142, Macmillian Publishers Australia 2010

Art Gallery of NSW, ‘Christie and London Zoo series’  https://m.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/education/exhibition-kits/london-years/christie-and-london-zoo-series/