#yester-year

[ladedanixie]

title: flowers are the way to a girl’s heart relationship: jester/beauregard/yasha summary: hanahaki au/multichapter Chapter 4: Summary: Beau dreams. Jester and Yasha talk. And Caleb is weirdly good at navigating an emotional situation for once. Fic Summary: Her dad always told the same old stories at parties. But, drunk one night, he told a different story. About the flowers that he would spew every waking hour he couldn’t be with her mom. The love of his life. It only left him once he had confessed his love. It’s what people meant when they said you were lovesick, he said. Burns you up inside hot enough that everyone can see it, or just makes you start coughing up flowers. She had thought her dad was talking shit like always, but turns out it’s true. She should have guessed after she found out the hag was real too. Beau was in love twice over, and now some weird dumb love magic was punishing her for it.

ao3

squdgeworld

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

.

[ryn-holt]

… Vent

Me over voice memo: Yeah I’m really close to checking myself in to a psych ward because my mental health is bad. Also here’s a stupid joke about my birthday month to try to offset the fact I just said some heavy fucking shit

My Friend: Lol about your birthday month

Me: Are you actually fucking serious?

My Friend: It’s not my fault I only skim what you send me 🙄, maybe you should just try to be more clear

[tymp3st]

Yester Year

I’ve been sitting here trying to get started writing the review of these dice for what feels like ages. A small eternity of being stuck in place staring at a blank page. Fun stuff that. These guys are the January set from Dice Envy’s Pride Subscription, Yester Year. Let’s roll! Yester Year is a weird set, largely because of that second d20. The bulk of the set in that aged copper works really…

[ahahalias]

I think they should make another viva pinata game. Just for me.

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ NOT THE EXCEPTION . yan! isagi yoichi / gn! reader

you were the fool for thinking that he'd be the only sane one in a team full of batshít crazy athletes. now he has you cornered, and the look in his eyes tells you that you should have never underestimated a wólf in sheép's clothing.

+ happy happy belated birthday to the love of my life bbg (who shan't be named) AND happy new year to everyone!!

( HOW DO I WRITE KISSING SCENES????, forced kíssing, dúbcon, n/sfw mentions, mánipulation, hárem mentions [bc it's not yester without a hárem] )

You don't know why you thought he was the exception.

Maybe it's because, in a team full of egoists, Isagi seemed to be the only one to treat you like his equal. Shidou drapes himself all over you and leaves you icky with his séxual comments, Rin cooly glares at you and barely acknowledges your existence, you could nearly faint at the mere glare of Kunigami, and Bachira likes to play rough with your body as he clings and begs for your attention.

That's not even the complete cast. Even people like Nagi, Reo, and Chigiri came with their own set of problems. But not Isagi. You had thought it would never be Isagi. Sure, he had a tongue and attitude on the field, parading around his victory with a smug smirk and spitting poíson at opponents and teammates alike. Yet that side of his seemed to completely disappear whenever he stepped out of the field, his prédatory gaze softening into a fond look whenever you bounded up to him to congratulate him on a well-earned victory. He never tried your boundaries or let his touch linger like the others did.

He was a gentleman through and through, and thinking that was your first mistake.

Your second mistake was being alone with him in your living room. He's still wearing that soft expression and kind smile, but his hands are gripping your wrists too tightly.

"[Your Name]." He says your name in a hushed whisper, bringing up your trembling wrist to his lips so he can press a kiss on a new bruíse. You watch with wide eyes as those plush lips touch your skin and permeate an icy feeling of doom through the veins. His gaze meets yours.

"Don't you think I did well today?"

Though your gut is telling you that something isn't right, you're still a fool smitten with the gentle image Isagi had portrayed himself to be. You find yourself slowly nodding, entranced by those blue eyes that never look away from you.

"Why do you think so?" He presses another kiss on your wrist, before loosening the bruising grip so he can trail kisses up your arm.

"... Your metavision is still as keen as ever," you whispered. The television screen is reflected in his eyes, news of Japan's newest victory flashing on the screen. You can't look away. "You expertly led the others to victory; you instigated all the right chemical reactions for the perfect shot." You lick your dry lips. "... You were amazing."

He huffs a laugh into your shoulder, massaging your bruised wrist like he wasn't the one who left that mark. "You're not echoing Ego's words, are you? I want to hear your own thoughts, not that slimy bastard's."

"M... Maybe," you admit, tense with his grip on your shoulder tightening. "I don't know much about soccer, but I meant every word. You were amazing, Isagi, you really were."

His grip softens, you're still tense, and he hums contentedly. "Right. I was amazing. I devoured every single bastard on that field and left them gasping." Your hair tickles your ear as he pushes them back. "So, don't you think it's a bit unfair?"

"... What is?"

"That I have to share my trophy with the others." His hand feels cold on your neck. "Can't I have one thing to myself? [Your Name], look at me."

You follow. He smiles that gentle smile again. He thumbs your lower lip like a lover.

"Kiss me."

You read romances all the time. They had always described it as hot, passionate, fiery. But maybe you took fiction too seriously. Real life is always different, and the ice in your veins is proof of that.

You draw closer, breath hitched, and mustering all the courage and swallowing down the unease in your heart, you press your lips on his.

There is no fire like the ones described in the books. There is a heavy pit in your stomach. Is this what they call butterflies? You tremble under the scrutinizing gaze of Isagi, eyes still open even with your lips on his. Soon, he closes his eyes too and you feel his lips smirk against yours.

Returning the kiss, he pulls you in closer and takes your everything in deeply. You can't pull away, you don't pull away. In this very moment, he's devouring everything you can offer— for now, physically; soon, mind and spirit. You wince when he bites down on your lip, not even trying to be gentle about it. You flinch backward from the pain, but his hand on the small of your back allows you no escape.

"Kiss me back, baby," he whispers between kisses. "You're my trophy for the night."

You kiss with less passion than him, too nervous about making him happy. You match the softness of his lips with yours, lapping at his tongue like how he does. He laughs when he pulls away, finding amusement in the blushy and nervous look on you.

"Gosh, you're so cute," he sighs, grinning at you. It's no longer friendly, those lips. A bit swollen from your kitten bites, the way he's smirking at you feels too... smug. "Too cute. Those bastards won't have any chance now that I've devoured you."

You gasp when his hand tightens on your hip, and you shoot him a nervous look. "I– Isagi, what are you...?"

"C'mon, [Your Name], how could you possibly not have seen it?" He chuckles. "Bargin' into the locker room every time we're half naked, in those cute shorts, and you think that not one man in that room would think about taking you on the fuckin' bench? Think, cutie. But you've always been wary of them, good thing. They think they can devour you by intimidating and belittling you? Those fuckers don't know shit."

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and laughs at their stupidity, vibrations buzzing your lip. "First, you gotta sweeten the trap with honey, you know?"

You are reflected in those captivating blue eyes, fluorescent lights illuminating your paling features. Taking you in again, he devours your lips once again, caring only for the taste of victory on his lips and your sweet sounds on his tongue.

Another victory snatched.

[jame7t]

one of the most frustrating things about halo fans who become indie game devs is that a lotta them want to just remake halo 3. like not spiritually, they just make a fan halo game in the artstyle of halo 3. Microsoft had to explode a few iirc

stop doing that and make an original title that harkens back to cut content from across the series and plays with original ideas.

look at the master Chief from the beta 10 billion years ago. go down this path and make something weird

these fucked up proto-elites are like .2 steps away from being geigeresque. go that route. make penis aliens. fall forever. make more indie games that harken to the shitty aesthetics of yester-millennium because that shit rocks*

*lots of games do this but you see way more games being spiritually doom or wolfy than you see halo-likes. and I think that’s a shame

**it’s only frustrating to me because the time wasted making a halo clone Microsoft will nuke could be spent making a halo clone that makes Microsoft reconsider its moronic employment policies regarding 18-month contracts

***hi

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Could we…. Expound on Shikamaru’s sexual prowess maybe??? I’m tryna see something….. for research, of course.

For research.

this took forever cause i hyped shikamaru's sexual prowess up so much, im sorry for the wait - anyway, thank you for the request, i hope this helps your research

Joint Reverie

Pairing: Shikamaru x f!Reader

Summary: Our lovely reader has been Shikamaru's fwb for a while now, and is waiting for him to return to Konoha from a diplomatic mission. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

W/c: 5.5k

Warnings: Weed (it's a Shikamaru fic, y'all), INTENSE SMUT, pussy eating, cock sucking, nipple playing, slut-calling (real brief, and not in a degrading way), cum-tasting, and penetration - also a lack of protection

Notes: not a part 2 per say, but can very much work as a follow up to this fic... anyway, how do we feel about this one, horndogs? is it up to par? also, Sasuke is the competition dealer, though he isn't in town much.

Masterlist💿

The speakers were such a worthwhile hassle, after you spend your day tangling them all around your tiny, little apartment. Two in the bedroom alcove and four around the living area - they set you back a couple thousand yen, but you couldn't have been happier.

As you placed them, you traced the wires back to the soundboard that your old man had given you. He owned the most popular pub in Konoha, Kintaro Izakaya, and had done the technical sound work at the establishment for years. He was more than happy to give you an old mixer board, and two old speakers to boot - but you really needed new speakers, speakers of your own.

When all was done, you plugged your record player into the soundboard and then plugged them both into the wall, flicking the on switch on your soundboard. Kneeling, you pulled the crate which held only your favourite records from under the table while the board came to life.

What do I want to listen to most?

You shook your head at yourself as you thumbed through the assorted albums. Colours flashed, titles whizzed by - the captured faces of yester-year stared back at you, begging you to chose them.

So, when you got to the beautiful, young faces of Roger Waters and David Gilmour (that's right, I said it, they're yum), you could help but choose The Piper at the Gates of Dawn.

You slipped the vinyl from its sheath and popped the lid of your record player open with your little finger. Carefully, you slotted the black disc around the anchor in the middle and closed the lid, placing the empty album on top of the glass.

With two gentle fingers, you tapped the play button, and the needle arm picked up. You got behind the soundboard, turning the gain dial by a hair, the lights flashing as the needle contacted the vinyl.

You turned the gain dial two clicks more as the radio chatter began to come through. You raised all the equalizer slides to the middle of their tracks, then pushed the rumble and high end further. The beeping began, a bit tinny, so you raised the low-end dial just above the low and high mid sliders, before pulling the mid range down by a hair.

The sounds surrounded you, standing near the middle of your apartment. They wrapped around you, and, as Roger Waters began to sing, you could feel a tear in your eye.

Fuck, you loved improving your apartment, even with such a trifle. It was your happy place, honestly and truly.

Feeling quite content with your work, you sat on your plush, grey couch. The springs whined beneath you as you reached under the coffee table to procure your rolling tray. Such a big day, with so many emotions, surely called for a joint.

Pulling one of your pink papers from the packet, you took a deep breath. The instrumental had begun, and the notes were still hitting your ear exactly how you wanted them to. You tore off a corner of the packet and began to roll a filter, in a desperate attempt to keep your mind quiet.

Alas, you were never so much as a thought away from the ache between your legs, and the only man who could cure it - even after so much sweat, even while rolling up a new distraction.

How were you going to last two more fucking days without him?

The diplomat always had to go so far away, and for such long swaths of time, but this was the longest he'd been gone since the two of you... had come to understand your relationship differently. 

The past two weeks and change had been fucking torture.

He made your toys so wildly unsatisfying, and you didn't want to go out, whoring... well, maybe a little, but whoever you found probably wouldn't satisfy you either. Sure, you could've gone out to find another person to invade the sanctum of your body- see, no, you couldn't. Other people were so... not Shikamaru. They wouldn't make you see the whole night sky from behind your eyelids, not like he did.

To make matters worse, you were already running low on your reserve weed, which you had to purchase off Sasuke, of all people, the last time he was in town. It was Ino who recommended him, and you trusted your good friend's good word. Plus, your dealer was way the fuck out of town, and you were a fiend - no shame in that.

Folding the paper over your tray, you dumped whatever was left in your grinder down. Skillfully as always, you slotted the filter into one end, and began to roll the flakes down. Eventually, you folded the paper in and made a nice, little cone.

Sasuke's product wasn't too shabby either, like Ino promised. It was properly sticky, and almost had a crystalized sort-of look. It was good weed, but it was a far cry from that purple weed of Shikamaru's.

You filled the tip with fallen weed from your tray, and then screwed it shut before putting the filter in your mouth. With a heavy sigh, you scoured the table for your lighter and realized Lucifer Sam had begun to play while you were so preoccupied, thinking about Shikamaru.

That prick can't leave me alone, even in his absence, you thought with a smile as you picked up a white lighter. Does he think about me half this much? Does it piss him off as badly?

Definitely not, but if so - the next answer would have to be, yeah, totally.

You two were simply friends who seshed alone, who shared chocolates, who occasionally fucked and stole kisses. Nothing more, nothing less.

Dragging your perfect joint, you settled into the couch, pulling an ashtray close on the coffee table. You were too in your head. You had to relax, to gather yourself, and remind yourself-

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Man, fuck, you just sat down.

Throwing the small amount of comfort, you had built-up out the window, you got up from the couch, puffing your joint quickly, and drew to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole. Mr. Irizawa kept your building nice and safe - it was probably just one of your neighbours coming to ask you for a cup of sugar, or something like that.

Except, as you pulled open the door, you realized it was nothing like that.

Before you could even smile, Shikamaru threw something onto your couch and cupped your face with both of his hands. He pulled the two of you together in a swift motion and his lips were pressed to yours, hungry and hot, demanding and desiring.

He broke away for only a split second to groan, "Fuck, I missed you."

You smiled as he kissed you again, pushing you back into your apartment and letting the door shut behind him. With a matching force, you kissed Shikamaru back, and he audibly chuckled to himself, letting his right hand drop to your waist. He pulled away, but pressed about five small kisses to your lips as he did so.

Body alight, you beamed, "I missed you too. I thought you still had-"

"Nah, took care of it, darling" Shikamaru responded lowly with a shrug, clearly in the mood for other things.

Ugh, and so were you. Finally.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, smiling like dopes. Shikamaru's warm hand remained on your face, as he brushed the pad of his thumb over your cheek. You took in his sage green sweatpants, and his loose, black long-sleeve, and the way his ponytail seemed to droop a little. It seemed Shikamaru had the presence of mind to shower before he saw you - something you wouldn't have done if you had to go away for so fucking long.

Part of you would have liked a little bit of notice, so you could have showered, or taken out the trash, or something like that - but most of you didn't care and knew he wouldn't either.

Carelessly, you brought the joint to your lips, and Shikamaru's eyes flicked to it immediately, making him lean away from you slightly as he asked, "How could you possibly still have weed left?"

"I had to get some," you gasped, trying to keep the smoke in your lungs.

With a smirk, Shikamaru traced your soft cheek with the back of his index finger, before stealing the joint away from you. He hummed, "Good for you, sneaking into the Nara Compound - I was only joking when I suggested that I didn't think you'd actually do it."

Ooh, shit. You'd negated to specify where you had gotten your weed, honestly forgetting that Shikamaru had ever told you to dip into his stash when you ran out. That really was a crazy suggestion, one that you truly wouldn't take up.

Shikamaru, of course, realized that as soon as he took a long drag from your joint. His eyebrows furrowed immediately, looking at the pink joint in his fingers like it tasted of bleach as he exhaled.

"Where the fuck did you get this?" He asked slowly, drawing the filter back to his lips to take three, short, consecutive puffs. Shikamaru's dark eyes snapped to yours, betrayed. "I'm not mad - but I need to know who sold this to you."

"Sasuke," you answered immediately.

Shaking his head at a painfully slow rate, Shikamaru put the joint back to his lips as he looked at the ground. He took another drag and pulled the joint from his lips like it burned him. With a scoff, Shikamaru lamented, "It's fucking gas."

"Awe, are you jealous, baby boy?" You teased, stealing the joint back from Shikamaru, who looked at you with a certain spark in his eye. You clicked your tongue and pinched his cheek with your free hand. "Well, it's blinding you to taste - your weed is so much better."

"Fuck off, you're saying that to make me feel better," he chuckled as he watched you take a lasting drag from the joint. You pulled it away, passing it back to him. Shikamaru took it hesitantly and sighed, "At least I know you rolled this yourself; no one can roll one quite as tight as my doctor, eh?"

"I don't fuck around, man," you exhaled, creating a thick cloud around the two of you as Shikamaru's grip on your waist tightened. "Seriously. You've got the best product in Konoha, it's a known fact."

A beat of silence passed between the two of you as Shikamaru dragged the joint deeply. He held it then puffed up the smoke randomly. After another drag, he asked, "So, why'd you waste your money then?" He exhaled, "Huh? I know that bastard overcharged you, and I can't even stand the thought of you, seshing with him-"

"Sasuke doesn't smoke - he's a good dealer like that," you teased, trying to soothe Shikamaru's annoyance over.

Didn't work. Shikamaru's eyes snapped to yours, that spark catching to a flame behind them.

You shook your head and sighed, "Look, man; I wouldn't have gone to Sasuke, if I knew it'd bother you so much... I didn't think you were the possessive type."

"Go to Sasuke for anything else, darling?"

"No," you said pointedly. "And what about you, playboy? Did you get any strange while jaunting around the Cloud?"

Shikamaru's expression went from interrogatory, to relieved, to amused, within the span of ten seconds. He laughed deeply, "No, I didn't get any strange."

"Good, I don't need you to make me go get tests," you snipped, stealing the neglected joint form his fingers.

Hooking it into your mouth, you shimmied out of Shikamaru's arm and padded over to your soundboard while he took off his shoes. You turned down the gain, then pushed the rumble up again.

"Quite the set up you've got going on here," Shikamaru hummed behind you as you looked over the lights and buttons in front of you. You smiled, puffing away as you watched the mixer lights jump with each strum, each bang, each lyric. "Wanna give me a lesson, finally? If you don't, it's fine, just know, your buttons are begging me to push them."

He really wasn't kidding, as you had to smack away his hand almost immediately. "Woah, Nelly - paws off," you giggled, angling yourself toward him. You tapped the mono/stereo button lightly, and said, "This one does the least damage, but don't be rough with my buttons."

"Then give me something to be rough with," he suggested.

"Charmer," you hummed, as Shikamaru's presence came over your shoulder. You pressed your ass against him, already feeling his mouth-watering length hardening against you. Your eyes remained solidly on your soundboard as you played with the high-end slider. Pulling the joint from your lip, you mumbled, "You have me already, don't you?"

Indeed, he did. Wrapped right around his lithe fingers.

Shikamaru's warm hands found purchase on the curves of your hip and waist, on either side, moving up and down as his long fingers mapped the expanse of your figure. Warm, minty breath washed over your exposed collarbone, Shikamaru leaning down to kiss and nip at the tender skin playfully. You yelped, twitching against him, just like he wanted.

"As I live and breathe..." His words were so quiet, you almost missed them amongst the sounds of the Pink Floyd; but you could feel the very vibration of his tone against your clavicle. Louder, Shikamaru purred, "I was withering away without you."

Rubbing your ass against his length again, you leaned into Shikamaru as his arms wrapped around your torso. His forearms were so thick, the muscles strained against the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. The scent of his piney soap filled your nose, getting you higher than any strain ever could. Shikamaru's hands glided across your body, pulling you flush to him, squeezes and caresses in their wake.

In a swift movement, Shikamaru stole the joint from your fingers and put it in his mouth as he spun you around against the table, hand remaining on your hip. He puffed the joint greedily, as he told you between drags, "There is less than a reason for you to keep smoking this shit - you've got a fresh ounce now."

"Works for me, sweetheart," you hummed in response, looking over to the package he had thrown on your couch. You leaned up to press soft kisses to his neck as you whispered, "You know you and yours make me feel the best."

As Shikamaru chuckled lowly, you could feel the thrum against your lips, as your hands clutched his broad shoulders. With that edge in his voice that drove you mad, he asked, "Me and my what, darling?"

"Y'know, you and your everything," you responded with a laugh of your own.

"I want you to use your words, pretty girl," he insisted, pulling you away from him.

Eyes sparkling playfully, and his signature lazy smile on his lips, Shikamaru looked absolutely perfect. He was so fucking handsome, all the time, but in this moment- cripes. 

"Fuck, and I wanna tear your clothes off."

Shikamaru laughed lowly, ashing the roach in the ashtray on your table, "Then, tell me, what of mine makes you feel the best?"

Before you could come up with some witty remark, Shikamaru's gaze returned to you, a new kind of flame kindling in his eye. One that spoke of a lust that existed in the depth of his soul, one that commanded you to comply, with the promise of great reward.

"Do you want a list?" Your eyes darted to Shikamaru's lips as he nodded playfully, hooking his other arm around you now. You hummed, "Well, off the cuff, you've got the best weed - and the best dick-game, ever." Shikamaru cocked his eyebrow, so you continued, "Seriously, no one's ever made me cum... just the people in this room."

Shikamaru laughed loudly, moving back with you in his arms, pulling you along to the alcove where your bed sat. "Keep going. I like it when you sing my praises."

"Look at you; big, strong Shikamaru, soon-to-be Head of the Nara clan, demanding to be praised," you teased as Shikamaru collapsed onto your bed, pulling you on top of him as his cheeks reddened.

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, Shikamaru shrugged, "Exactly. Don't you think I deserve a kind word?"

"I think you deserve everything and a bag of chips, sweet boy," you giggled, pulling yourself to straddle Shikamaru's lap. Your clothed heat rubbed against the bulge in his sweatpants, giving both of you a delicious bout of friction, and making Shikamaru's dick twitch in the process. With a content lilt, you sighed, "You're so impressive, Shikamaru. In every capacity; mental, physical, business-wise."

"Think Sasuke's impressive?" He asked with a crooked smirk, trying to disguise the curiosity in his tone as humour.

"Eh, sure, kinda - nothing like you though, no one impresses me like you do." Your tone was so soft, as you continued, "Not in any way - you're so smart, and handsome, and so extremely well-endowed." Grinding your hips down, you leaned down to press another string of kisses to his neck. In a small voice, you said between kisses, "I only think about you, sweetheart... only you."

Grasping your hips with a true grip, Shikamaru began grinding you against his erection with vigour. You could feel the veins through all the layers of cotton that separated you, and a small gasp fell from your lip as his shaft pressed right against your clit.

"Only me, huh?" He asked as his fingers got lost beneath your shirt. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Fucking you, if I can help it," you answered instantly, sitting up on his lap.

You pressed your hands against his chest but applied a generous pressure to your seat as you continued to move your hips in small circles. Shikamaru chuckled warmly, still playing with the hem of your shirt. He looked up at you with a smile, his eyes crinkling into halfmoons as he did.

"Then, how about this for a schedule?" Shikamaru sat up a little as he spoke, grasping the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. He threw the fabric across the room, warm hands coming to your suddenly cold back, Shikamaru smiled up at you as he said, "We go out to a nice dinner, take a walk, then we fuck?"

Oh, fuck yes! Tonight is the motherfucking night! 

You kept your cool. You smirked, leaning down a bit to catch his head between your tits. Shikamaru kept his eyes on your face, awaiting your answer, as his fingers drew strange shapes on your back.

"How about..." You hummed, pushing him back onto the bed. Shikamaru fell back, confidence faltering slightly as his hands slid to your thighs. With a bright smile, you leaned over him a little and proposed, "We fuck, then dine, fuck again, then walk, then fuck a third time?"

"You're the fucking jackpot."

His words were so mumbled and strung together that you could hardly make them out, but you didn't really care. Shikamaru's smile was back, and he pulled you down for another kiss.

With zeal, his hands moved up your thighs, onto your hips and up your bare torso. Shikamaru cupped one of your tits, immediately catching your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, while one remained around your back. Suddenly, he flipped you both, so that you were lying on the bed.

Hovering above you for just a second, Shikamaru tore his shirt off and threw it to a corner of the alcove before leaning back down to kiss you. He pinched your nipple, making you gasp, which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth quickly. You hummed into his mouth, just so fucking content with how everything turned out - for once.

Moving down, Shikamaru trailed kisses down your jaw, then peppered your neck with little suckles and bites. You whimpered and twitched, only inciting Shikamaru to continue nipping down to your chest.

"Please, sweetheart, stop teasing me," you mewled as his lips captured your right nipple. Shikamaru's tongue swirled for a moment, before his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. You gasped, scratching his shoulder a little with one hand, "Please, please, please."

"Nuh uh, never," he chortled, popping his mouth off your right tit, only to move to the left. 

One of his hands continued to play with your suddenly chilled nipple, as he tongued your left areola wildly. His fingers pinched, while his mouth massaged - he palmed your right tit and sucked the left, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes.

Your hips bucked up, seeking the previous friction, and you clenched around nothing. Rubbing your thighs together didn't provide any solace, because Shikamaru noticed almost immediately and put his leg between yours. 

Moving your hands down, you scratched at his back, trying to pull him up even a little. It didn't work, and Shikamaru moved further down your body as a show.

"Patience is a virtue, darling," he reminded you with a gentle timbre, pressing kiss after kiss to your stomach and abdomen. "Besides, you know I like it when you get all desperate for me."

"Man, fuck you," you whined, your body jerking unconsciously as Shikamaru's hands came to your waistband. "I'm not desperate... I've just been needing you so bad, Shikamaru."

His fingers dipped below the waistband of your sweatpants as he hummed, "I dunno, I'm not convinced."

"You're so mean to me, you know that?" You shuttered as his fingers danced just beneath your waistband. "I'd get on my hands and knees to beg you, and you'd still make me do a dance."

"Well, you are the best dancer," he chuckled.

Your retort was cut off before it could begin as Shikamaru finally tugged at your pants. You were quick to pop your hips up so he could peel them off, and you tried to pull him back to you again. But Shikamaru planted his feet firmly to the ground and lowered himself to the edge of the bed, pulling you forward.

"Hey, I didn't shower-" You tried to warn him, sitting up.

Shikamaru pushed you back down easily and put your legs over his shoulders. Immediately, he said, "Hey, I don't care."

"Mean," you mumbled.

Without any build-up, Shikamaru leaned forward and licked a fat stripe up your pussy. You gasped, while he groaned, "Delicious."

Shikamaru pressed a myriad kisses to your inner thigh then - kisses, so sloppy, you weren't entirely sure he wasn't licking your thigh. But you didn't care, because his soft lips just felt so good against the tingling skin. The glorious sounds from your new speakers fell on deaf ears, as the fog of pleasure clouded your mind entirely.

Then, with another stripe, Shikamaru dove into your pussy. His tongue glided through your folds a few times, then right up the center to swirl around your sensitive clit. You could have screamed as he sucked gently against the bundle of nerves, until he released it to tongue your entrance again.

His name fell from your lips like a chant as your hands scratched at your own stomach, not wanting to fuck up his ponytail. Without wasting a second, Shikamaru reached back and pulled the elastic from his hair, letting it fall around his face like a curtain. You pulled his hair back, not wanting to miss a second of Shikamaru's face between your thighs.

A smile was evident on his lips as you tugged a little, and Shikamaru's tongue drifted up again to tease your clit. His fingers suddenly met your folds, now feeling cold in comparison to the fire that coursed through you. They dipped in, separating your folds in the slick of arousal and spit, only teasing your clenched entrance.

One finger pushed in, curling to stretch you out and hit that spot that only Shikamaru seemed to be able to hit. You cried out lewdly, invigorating Shikamaru as he began to pump his finger into you while he still abused your clit with his tongue. He added another finger, flicking them both against your gummy walls and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you could feel a rhythmic clench building, you chased the light of your orgasm. You looked at Shikamaru with lidded eyes as he devoured your pussy, sloshing sounds abundant in the room.

Then, he stopped.

"I knew you would do that!" You cried out, feeling the light fade from your grasp. Letting goes of his hair as he stood, you grimaced while Shikamaru smiled so very wickedly.

"Y'wanna cum on my face, or my cock?" He asked rhetorically.

You rolled your eyes, but Shikamaru was looking for you to use your words. He palmed himself over the green cotton, not giving you what you wanted until you stated it with your chest.

You groaned, "Your cock... please."

"That's my girl," Shikamaru grinned as he bunched the fabric of his waistband into either hand. 

Pleased and praised, you couldn't suppress the smile that took over your features. You shimmied up on the bed to give Shikamaru some room. He tugged off his trousers, massive cock smacking just beneath his navel once free.

Shikamaru's cock was a sight to behold, thick and perfectly veined. Your mouth-watered at the mere sight of it, the ache between your legs intensifying.

Taking the base of his cock into his hand, Shikamaru pumped a single languid stroke up his length. Precum gathered at his tip, making his slit glisten in your apartment light. Immediately, you sprung forward, repositioning yourself entirely to be at mouth-level with his cock.

"What's up, Buttercup?" He asked, stroking his dick again.

The precum accumulated so that a true drop formed. Before it could drip, you stuck out your tongue and caught it. Your tongue glided up Shikamaru's frenulum, then around his tip once, before you closed your lips around his head, sucking gently.

Knees buckling slightly, Shikamaru's hand came to the side of your head as he choked out, "You're not- hah- desperate for me, huh?"

You replaced your hand for the one Shikamaru had wrapped around his base, as you took more of his cock in your mouth. Pumping what could never fit down your throat, you bobbed your head, almost like you were nodding. You looked up at Shikamaru to gauge a reaction, and he was smiling down at you broadly, looking so relaxed.

"You're such a slut for me, aren't you, darling?" He asked, pushing his hips forward a tad. This time, you really did nod as you sucked up the length of his cock. Shikamaru tugged on your hair a little, and chuckled, "You're my perfect woman. All mine, aren't you?"

As you hummed against his cock, Shikamaru groaned lowly. His hips began to move on this own, pushing his cock against the back of your throat more harshly. You didn't mind - Shikamaru was always very considerate about his size.

"Fuck, darling, your mouth is so soft." Despite how lost in the moment he sounded, Shikamaru pulled out of your mouth with a shutter. 

You continued to stroke him as he drew onto the bed, and until he pushed you back against the pillows. Shikamaru slid between your legs and lowered himself to you immediately, capturing your lips with his again.

On his tongue, you could taste your bitterness, and you groaned, feeling how wet his chin and nose still were. Shikamaru's cock fell between your folds, and he pushed his hips up, grinding against your bare pussy with his twitching dick. You whimpered, broken pleas falling from your mouth between kisses.

Finally, as if he couldn't take it anymore, Shikamaru sat up. He lined his tip up with your tight hole and locked his eyes with yours as he slowly pushed in, grabbing your waist for leverage. You threw your head back when his tip was sucked in with a squelching sound.

"Holy fuck!" You yelled, feeling like you were getting split apart. Your hands flew to his thighs, scratching and squeezing as you throbbed around him.

Continuing to push in, Shikamaru groaned, "I know, darling, I'm sorry."

"Don't- ah! - be sorry," you cried, feeling like he was almost in. You could feel a pressure on your lower stomach as he neared your cervix. Shikamaru finally bottomed out, and stilled, giving you a second. You didn't want the second, immediately begging, "Fuck me! Fuck me, Shikamaru! Please!"

A string of curses fell from Shikamaru's lips as his grip on your waist tightened. He pulled back a little and then slammed his hips back into you, watching to see if you'd take back your words.

You didn't, only whimpering at the feeling.

That was enough for Shikamaru to take your command for what it was. He pulled back again, this time almost to his head, then thrusted into you deeply. You moaned salaciously as he picked up a very passionate pace, hitting that sweet spot every single time.

A very moist pap, pap, pap sound began to fill the room, your slick already dripping from you and pooling beneath you. Soft grunts and groans fell him Shikamaru's lips, adding to the symphony already at work. Your grip on his thighs tightened, and the crescent-moons of your nails dug into his bulging muscle.

You bounced against the bed, being pushed and pulled by his hands, and reacting to the slamming of his hips. Shikamaru's left hand came to your tit, squeezing the tissue roughly as he plowed into you. A near pornographic sound came from you as he started to tease your nipple again, which only made him that much more zealous.

"Your pussy is fucking amazing," he groaned, pulling at the sensitive bud lightly. Still, it sent shocks through your body, making you feel so warm and tingly. "Fuck, you're so fucking wet for me."

"Only you," you managed to choke out between moans and groans. "Only you, Shika-aaa-maru. Only you."

"You're fucking right, only me." Shikamaru's pace picked up and he leaned over you, putting the hand that was attached to your waist beside your head. Your hands sprung to his back, scratching lightly, a slight pain lingering. He continued to tease your nipple as he asked, "Can anyone else make you feel this good?" You shook your head, a scream bubbling in your throat at the quickened pace. Shikamaru thrust into you firmly, and stayed bottomed out, reminding you, "With words, pretty girl."

"Fuck, no! No, no one! Just you, only you," you gasped.

That was the right answer, because Shikamaru started moving again. Clutching the rippling muscles of his back, you bit onto his shoulder as he continued to pound you mercilessly. His name was the only thing on your mind, so you barely even heard the 'I love you' as it slipped from your vocal cords.

Muffled as it was, Shikamaru heard you.

He kissed you again but slowed his pace considerably. His tongue slipped into your mouth, inviting yours to dance so gently, as his hips met yours in quite the juxtaposition. 

Deeply, you hummed against his lips, and Shikamaru swallowed up every moan that came from you. Slowly, but surely, his pace quickened again, in even more frenzied thrusts. The rhythm was much stronger but started to get unruly.

Pulling up and away from you swiftly, the hand that was playing with your nipple slid down your abdomen, tickling you slightly. Shikamaru's fingers found your clit, rubbing small circles in time with his thrusts.

"Just like that," you purred, pleasure overtaking all your senses. "Fuck- yes- I'm so close."

Heeding you, Shikamaru changed nothing about his pace or position. You were right on the edge, and he was bringing you closer, and closer, and closer-

"Fuck, I love you," he groaned as you came, squeezing around his cock. 

Your heart jumped to your throat, but the fog of your orgasm quelled your worries in an instant. You spasmed wildly around him, milking his cock and, to his credit, Shikamaru continued without so much as a stutter, not taking his fingers off your clit until you had ridden out your entire high.

Then the true sensitivity set in.

"Ah! Fuck! Shikamaru, oh my stars, holy fuck!" You cried out, starting to squirm. 

Taking his fingers from your clit, Shikamaru gripped the other side of your waist and pummeled into your pussy a few more times before he slid out quickly. He took his cock in his hand and pumped it twice before pearly cum began to paint your stomach and tits.

He groaned as the ropes shot onto you, dick twitching with every release. You smiled broadly, swiping a finger through the pool atop your belly button. The pearlescent coating dripped down your finger as you brought it to your mouth. Shikamaru's eyelids fluttered closed as he watched you take the finger into your mouth and sigh with the taste.

"Fuck, were you in the Land of Fruit, because- stars, you're yummy," you chuckled, swiping up a much larger glob of Shikamaru's spend. 

"Oh, shush, you jester," he chortled as he got off your bed.

Shikamaru drew to the bathroom a step away while you took a breath and appreciated the sweet-bitterness of his cum. The music had gone quiet long ago, the record needing to be flipped to the B-side. Shikamaru came out a second later, holding a roll of toilet paper as you continued to suck on your fingers.

"I don't jest - you should've cum on my face." When Shikamaru extended a folded-up portion of toilet paper, you scrunched up your nose and took up another portion to drink up. "What? I'm busy," you said. Shikamaru just rolled his eyes, still smiling as he leaned forward to clean you off, himself. You sighed, "Man, that's mine, what are you doing?"

"Gods above, you're nasty," he laughed, throwing a cum-soaked wad of paper away and tearing off another few squares to clean himself off.

"Nasty for you," you grinned. "Eh, loverboy? Can't be upset with that, can you?"

"You are so in love with me," he bit back.

You nodded, smiling broadly as you threw open your arms. "Yeah, and so are you. Stop being a prick and cuddle me."

[reality-detective]

This 👆 is the Joe Biden of Yester-year as a senator.

A screen shot 👇

And the many other faces of Joe Biden. 👆

Note the earlobes in photo #1

Have you asked yourself why he never lööks the same? 🤔

[tacogrande]

did a little clawdeen for a patreon poll! wanted to lean in on fashion illustration of yester year!

[creatingblackcharacters]

Betty Boop technically wasn't made as a Black character but was loosely based on a Black woman: Baby Esther Jones, The Black Singer Who Was The Real Betty Boop (allthatsinteresting.com) Don't think she technically counts, but she is stylised in such a way that she doesn't exactly look NOT Black.

In the 1920s — and beyond — it was quite common for white performers to steal the acts of their Black counterparts without credit or compensation. But, whereas the Black performers of today can rally people to their cause using the power of social media, Black performers of yester-year — like Esther Jones — weren’t quite as lucky.

Yes, I did know this! I've mentioned it before, how so much of what is considered pop culture in the US for over a century has usually been ripped straight from Black performers and creators. It's part of why we get so upset when (usually botched) AAVE gets used and inaccurately termed as "gen Z slang". You're using a dialect you don't even understand and making yourself popular off of it, but the people who actually speak that dialect have their voices (and creations) shut down.

[girlactionfigure]

THE HOLOCAUST WAS IN COLOUR

I woke up today in Jerusalem to the sound of a siren marking Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Memorial Day. The fucking Holocaust. This thing that's there. This thing that every Jewish kid has to learn about far too young. There’s no good age to learn about it. It takes away an innocence whatever age you learn.

It's a lesson of: actually - the worst shit can happen.

Actually - the worst shit did happen.

Actually the worst shit could happen again.

There is no objective proof of God - but Auschwitz did happen. It’s difficult to remain idealistic about human beings after that. If tales of individual acts of heroism that emerged from the Holocaust are supposed to give us solace and an after-taste of hope, the bigger question is what is it that makes these tales such anomalies?? What is it that prevented every person from being a hero? And why did it happen in the first place?

Visiting Auschwitz ruined part of me. It really did. Even before visiting, all that bullshit ruined part of me. I remember seeing images on TV as a kid and that ain't healthy. To see ghouls hanging on barbed wire. Piles of skeleton and flesh. I don't see how it can't ruin anyone if that's you and your kind they were gunning for. The idea that people murdered you because you were born you. The idea that your fellow countrymen turned round and said: actually you're not one of us. Or turned a blind eye, buttoned up their lips, gazed down in silence and left you to deal with it on your own. It's not like this puts joy in your heart. It puts something in your heart that I can't explain. It puts in your heart the sensation that some people don't want your heart to beat. And that's a confusing feeling for any heart: a nexus of emotions. A paralytic, existential moment. The loneliest heart, scarred by barbed wire and frost.

The fact that I can only trace my family tree back a few generations has always gnawed at me. I can only go back so far and then there's nothing. Just a black hole. Part of my connection with planet earth has been blotted out for good. I've been disinherited of my roots - from knowing the specifics of who I am and where I come from.

A few years back I visited Auschwitz - this massive shithole in Poland. And it's not like this death factory could have been a secret. There's no way. People knew. It's huge. It just goes on and on. And there's something weird about it. And you can't quite figure it out. And then you realise - it's all in colour. It's not in black and white. The images we're used to seeing of Auschwitz are black and white. And as horrific as those images are they provide a safe, historical distance. It appears a bygone world far removed from us. But it's here in colour and it's the same world we inhabit. The same air, the same trees, the same rain falling. And the human beings would have been in colour too, with red blood cells and capillaries and hearts beating like ours. They weren’t creatures from yester-year, they were modern human beings with the same body parts and feelings. And they were murdered by modern human beings who also had the same body parts and who probably loved their children and kissed their partners goodnight.

There's more I could write. I could write about mountains of shoes. I could write about piles of hair. I could write about buttons and cutlery and possessions that emerge from the mud in the rain. I remember having a stupid back and forth in my mind over some buttons I found which I put back into the mud. I had this stupid thought that maybe I should have "liberated" the buttons rather than leave them in that shithole - but then thinking that would be stealing? But would it be stealing if they'd been stolen by scum and were now being "taken back" in a spirit of love and solidarity by someone on their side? “Liberating buttons.” Stupid stuff. Ridiculous thoughts that you can somehow do something correct to rectify what happened here and bring some kind of harmony. In the end I left them. The buttons were stolen and they don't belong to Auschwitz - but they belong to the memory of what happened there - so they can at least continue to speak from the mud to anyone who sees them.

If I'm honest, part of me wishes I hadn't visited the place. I came away angry and it killed any absolute faith I have in human beings. As I say, individual tales of heroism and defiance aren’t enough to justify true optimism. They're a plaster to cover up the deeper sickness of who and what we are as a species. There's something worrying about human beings and our capacity for cruelty. A species whose children pick the wings off flies, combined with a propensity to herd mentality, is dangerous. It should trouble all of us. I don't know how we overcome it, keep it restrained, or collectively channel it toward a universally agreed direction that’s aimed at goodness.

If I have one reflection on whatever nonsense it is I'm writing it's this: I think there's a violence in human beings. There is violence in the human soul. There is violence and there is cruelty. But more than that there is fear. Despite our songs and poems, I'm not sure love is the most powerful force on earth. There’s a strong argument to suggest fear is the primary driving force behind the actions of the animal we call a human being. It's fear of freezing to death that causes us to build shelters. It's fear of going hungry that causes us to stock food. It's fear of being ostracised that causes us to ostracise others. It's fear of ridicule that breeds conformity. It's fear that causes people to keep their heads down. And when the moment of danger comes? When the tyrants enter? When the bullies arrive? It's fear that causes people to not speak up. To turn a blind eye. To let someone else take the bullet. People can bombastically jump on the bandwagon and say "never again" but it’s tough to find your voice when face to face with a bully. People can say never again but it’s tough to square up if someone has raised their fist and shown they will use it. It’s tough to be brave when the moment comes and there's so many thoughts going through your mind and your brain and adrenalin decides it's best to shut down and stay quiet for the sake of self-preservation. It’s tough to do good things in this world because the bad things are loud and scary and intimidating. It’s tough for people to rise above fear. There’s a reason why heroes are called lone heroes. They’re uncommon.

That's why it's good to be writing this from Israel where Jews are once again in their ancestral home, the place they forged an indigenous civilisation many thousands of years ago before the Babylonians and Romans forced them into exile. A place where they can ensure that "Never Again" is not left in the hands of a species that pulls the wings off flies. Google the Evian Conference - visit Auschwitz yourself - survival is not a game to be left in the hands of others or based on the strength of promises. Because there's always a chance that when the chips are against you and you call out to friends or others for help, you could be left hanging around wondering when they'll arrive?

And the answer might be:

Never. Again.

So. Anyway. It's 5pm. I need a piss. Then I'll probably eat some bread. A siren went off this morning. Just one final thought before I have a wee. I say that any absolute faith I have in human beings is lost. And that's true. Yet every day I experience such joy at existing. I love walking about, talking to people and connecting with souls cut from the same cloth. I like nature and I like looking at things and if I didn't love science so much I'd probably be a new age nut hugging trees and trying to kiss ants. Being alive is the most beautiful thing I've experienced to date.

And as embarrassed as I am to say it would you look at me trying to finish on a positive note?

Maybe there is something stronger than fear?

The persistant impulse to seek blessings in a world full of curses. The sheer chutzpah of life. The defiance. Not to vanquish the darkness, but to live in spite of the darkness. I can handle a world where Auschwitz took place if I also get to live in a world where there are people I love. I can handle a world where there’s horror if I also get to laugh now and then. And the fact that love, laughter and happiness can blossom in a world where the worst can happen - and has - must count for something. Deep down the impulse to go in search of life’s blessings is within all of us. It’s part of who we are. It’s why we get up each morning. We have to have faith that all will be well even when logic, history and common sense says otherwise. Actually it’s not even a question of faith. We have no choice. I think hope is hardwired into all of us. Deeper than fear. We are a creature that hopes. And sometimes, with the right wind behind us, at the right tide, we make those hopes come true. Sometimes, if you will it, it is no dream.

Lee Kern

This was written in Jerusalem in 2015 on Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Memorial Day

[cpunkwitch]

Hey let's talk about the punk genre, what punk stands for, what the punk genre really is and what it actually means to be punk

Because so many people are completely misunderstanding the punk subcultures of to-yester-day that people are just simply considering them aesthetics and alternative life styles when it's so much more complicated then that and leads to people spreading misinformation like "cpunk is for ALL disabilities and not exclusive what so ever"

Note: I realize during my talk I mention punk subgenre when really I'm talking about punk subcultures, please keep this in mind while you read! Thank you!

For starters; the term punk, first used in the late 1500's at the earliest to refer to prostitutes, was popularized in the mid 1900's when in 1971 a rock journalist (Greg Shaw) used the term to describe The Guess Who's music.

What became as a synonym for "hoodlum" or "ruffian" got adopted in the 70's by rock bands like Sex Pistols as a form of rebelling against how "commercial" rock'n'roll music had become in the 60's and to continue the counterculture movements from that previous decade.

Overtime the word and therein punk culture gained the association of rebellion and community built on common ground against a certain thing or towards a common objective (such as being against record labels restricting musicians, wanting accessibility for certain people and fairness for people regardless of class and wealth status etc).

People who would attend the "punk rock" concerts would show up in the work out clothing they had and whatever they could afford at the time, second hand clothing, ripped jeans, worn out leather jackets, and thus earned themselves getting called "punks" or "punk rockers" for their "inappropriate/poor dress" and the controversial bands they would listen to

This carried over to that sort of dress becoming an alternative style commonly worn by those who liked rock and metal bands and this monopolized upon by capitalism (the exact thing punk rockers were against to begin with, as most rock bands at the time were literal garage bands)

And this evolved to the reason elderly would yell at teenagers calling them punks and what the punk genre has become today.

As for what it means to be punk, it can vary from person to person and subgenre to subgenre, more specifically it varies from person within subgenre to person within another subgenre.

Punk rockers might define being punk as in going against the dress codes and such that restrict you from self expression, allowing people to attend concerts without have to pay ridiculous amounts of money, being anti-capitalist etc

Whereas cpunk or as we call ourselves "cripple" punks (as is what the c in cpunk stands for) it is clearly defined by the coiner of our community who is no longer with us, taking back the slur cripple for ourselves, fighting for accessibility and having a sense of community at all for physically disabled folk. Some have even said the most punk thing we can do is survive the day living authentically in a world that's literally built against us deformed and physically disabled folk.

To be punk can mean plenty of different things but most commonly it's to fight for equality, to be ourselves, to be seen. It's to go against the rules and authority that want you to conform to their ideals, and plenty of other similar beliefs.

Punk folk have always been labeled as such because of how we are treated for how we look, act, what we listen to and believe, and in general for how we stand out.

Punk fashion started as a DIY, punk music was always about anti-authority and anti-capitalist views, punk as a genre has always been about individuality in community and things many corporations hated.

It's always been more complex than just wearing a leather jacket with an edgy patch and spiked or coloured hair while listening to a band with heavy guitar. It will always be more than an aesthetic or life style.

Why bring this up?

Because these past few years a lot of punk's history have gotten ignored, stepped under the rug and misunderstood.

There's been people forcing themselves into spaces like able bodied people trying to claim to be cpunk when the community isn't for them.

There's been people gatekeeping punk in completely misinformed ways, when to be punk is that you don't fit in a box at all (hence the non conformity)

And there's just been non stop misinformation all together.

Punk is pro-sex workers. Punk is anti conformity. Punk is pro equity. And punk is not for those who harass others and insult them for any reason, regardless of how much you disagree with them.

Regardless of how you define punk, the most important thing is that you listen to voices of others. Don't disregard them like people have done to us all this time.

Thank you so much for letting me ramble off I hope this post has been helpful!

I also apologize for the lack of ids.

[kuwdora]

Saturday Morning Vid Recs - Video Games

@poetikat ! So you like video games. WELL! I come bearing video game recs from around the Internet, deep into old vidshows of yester-vidding fandom-year, and my bookmarks and recs posts. There’s always way more video game vids out there, esp on AO3 - search for your video game fandom and the Fanvids tag and see what comes up in your results.

Some of these vids date back a decade or more and some are very recent. They’re all awesome and so interesting to watch.

Video Game Vids!

America by @beccatoria. Mass Affect: Andromeda. #colonialism

Hard Times by absternr. Portal. I laughed and cried. Gonna make you wonder why you even try.

Riverside by milly. Tomb Raider (2013). I see how everything is torn in the river deep", Lara PoV. Vid for the 2013 Tomb Raider game.

River by milly. Tomb Raider (2018) This is so fucking gorgeous. Stand and deliver. / Made for VividCon Challenge "Full Circle" in 2018, a sequel/parallel to "Riverside". Reverse Dance by @aurumcalendula. Dishonored. A great character vignette! Billie through the years.

Pop Galaxy by AbsoluteDestiny. Super Mario Galaxy. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️. I’m really in love with the use of the camera angles from the game, and this pop medley is very much a banger of 2013. It’s so much fun.

Scream and Shout by @rhoboat77. Assassin’s Creed. I’m forever screaming about how awesome this vid is in my head but now I share it with everyone. Forever shouting because rhoboat captured all of the game footage!! To make THIS VID. The skill and talent and sheer fucking perseverance to perform some of these actions in the game specifically for this vid. Everything is permitted.

Pop That Lock by @kuwdora. Final Fantasy VII: Remake. Cloud/everyone. Final Fantasy + Adam Lambert = my groove. You got the key to your release, so pop that lock until you’re lighter than air.

D U S K by niyalune. Outer Wildes. This game is gorgeous and this vid is so fucking beautiful and full of wonder and heart "The universe is, and we are."

We’re Here Because We’re Here by violace. Journey 2012. We're here because we're here. Maybe it's really that simple.

Brother (Last Ride) by @kuwdora. The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt. The wolves of Kaer Morhen. I captured all my own game footage for this vid! A first for me. We face the fire together, brothers 'til the end. Never Seen The Light of Day by violace. Bioshock Infinite. This character study really takes you on Elizabeth's journey! Amazing song choice and what a game. And the truth shall set you free. -- A tribute to Elizabeth.

Birds, Birds, Birds by bironic. Wingspan. Tabletop game play, video game, trailers. Bironic has done it again and created something so incredible and something I haven’t seen before and inspired me and struck everyone full of awe and love. I got birdies, dawg.

9 to 5 by @eruthros. Lego Star Wars. This is so damn cute! It's a tough life for a clone trooper or stormtrooper.

One Foot by @kuwdora. Star Wars: Jedi Fallen Order. Cal Kestis my beloved. Taking this one step at a time.

Start Wearing Purple by @findmeinthealps Mythic Quest. Not a video game per se but about the people who make them. Poppy Li and Iann Grimm. Hot messes who end up making some great and terrible choices along the way. All your sanity and wits, they will all vanish, I promise.

Hurry, Hurry, Hurry by @marahsarie. Outer Wildes. This vid!! is so cute!! and wonderful!! All my friends and all the loose ends and this love of mine, 'cause I'm running out of time.

Anything For Love (Including That) by caramarie Mass Effect/Dragon Age. Thanks for the terrible romantic choices, Bioware.

For more video game vids:

Vidding community on dreamwidth - see the games tag: dishonored, carmen san diego,resident evil and more.

Vividcon Database: 2013 Video Games Vidshow

Spring Equinox 2013 theme: Game On! which includes video games (and sports game themes)

Vidding Discord: ask for recs from more vidders!

Previous Saturday Morning Vid Recs:

Women!

Space and Robots

Animals

Follow the tags to keep up with recs this summer:

#saturday morning vid recs

#kuwdora vid recs

#kuwdora recs

A helpful guide I wrote:

How to Leave Feedback on Fanvids

[thealmightyemprex]

Joseph Cotten ,faded star ?

So.....Why dont we talk about Joseph Cotten anymore

Now I am gonna wager a guess,a lot of you just went "Who ?" and that is fair ,I had no clue who this guy was for a long time,and I am a big "Classic Hollywood "nut ,its only upon learning from my Grandmother he was my Great Grandmothers favorite actor that I gained an interest in him ....Mainly cause hes kind of forgotten now ,not entirely ,but he is one of those movie stars who has faded a bit ,which is weird cause he is in some of the biggest movies

He is in Citizen Kane

He is in Gaslight

Hes in the Third Man

He gives a REALLY creepy performance in Hitchcocks Shadow of a Doubt

.....He also did a few genre films late in his career from the more prestegious like Soylent Green

To the horror comedy the Abomnible Dr Phibes (Fun fact,my first exposure to him as an actor )

And ,probally his oddest film,or at least one of the strangest Ive seen ,the Japanese sci fi film Lattitude Zero

So why isnt he talked about ?

Well for my money ,he was a very solid good actor ,very competent ,could play any role making you belive his character even if the premise is odd, you never feel like Joseph Cotten phones it in.Hes a very good actor,especially at playing everymen though he proved he could do other roles like a villain if called on to do that ............Heres the thing though ,Other then Shadow of a Doubt......I seldom watch a Joseph Cotten FOR Joseph Cotten .I wanna stress he is a GOOD actor ,really good....But he lacks pizaz ,and is often overshadowed by bigger personalities

The Powereful Orson Welles

The Heartbreaking Ingrid Bergman

The Wickedly Eccentric Vincent Price

Hes a good foil for these performers but hes overshaodwed by them .They have stayed with us while Cotten has fallen by the wayside

I dunno,I like Cotten ,but he does like that pizaz the more memorable stars of his era have

I REALLY wanna hear peoples thoughts on Joseph Cotten .What do you think of him?Do you not know him ? Do you have a favorite film of his ? What other stars from yester year do YOU feel are forgotten? Please discuss,I am very interested in peoples thoughts

Bonus:A screen shot from Lattitude Zero

@countesspetofi @the-blue-fairie @ariel-seagull-wings @themousefromfantasyland @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @amalthea9 @princesssarisa @barbossas-wench @piterelizabethdevries

[hayzeydayzey]

My goofy Prouvaire and his yester-year dandy swag