I reshelled Queen Ursa, as her old shell simply didn’t suit the character. At first I was gonna pass this sculpt, but when I saw blank owner pics in dark tan I knew she was way more fitting.
I’m honestly just really glad all her old things (other than the shoes) fit her perfectly still. I was especially worried about the wig, but it fits like a glove.
The what is what:
Sculpt: Impldoll Moira in dark tan on the 63cm slim muscle body
The phone is propped against a water bottle on the patio table and has fallen over twice already.
“Okay,” Cas says, again, for the fourth time.
He picks up the phone, adjusts the angle, and steps back to check the frame.
August is visible in the screen’s preview: arms crossed, one hip cocked, expression approaching clinical. The wind blows his hair and leaves rustle behind him.
“From the top,” Cas says.
“That’s my line.”
“I’m saying it.”
August uncrosses his arms.
The song starts — that glassy, weightless drop — and for approximately two seconds they are both doing the right thing at the right time, arms rising in loose unison, weight shifting.
Then Cas misses a beat, *barely*, and August throws his arms in the air in frustration.
“*Pay attention*,” August says, snapping to the beat. “It’s five, six, seven, eight.” He demonstrates the moves.
Cas glares. He knows the moves.
He goes back to the phone. Resets. August watches him with the particular quality of silence that means he is composing a sentence he will not say out loud. The song queues up again, the little countdown ticking in the corner of the screen.
“Don’t fuck up this time,” August says.
“You don’t fuck up this time,” Cas hisses. He elbows him.
August slaps him back just before the song drops.
This time Cas gets through the arm sequence clean, pulls off the freeze with his whole chest, chin lifted, like he knows exactly how good he looks frozen mid-motion.
August glances over — involuntary, half a second — and misses his cue entirely.
Cas grins. “You—“
“Shut up.”
“You looked at me,” he finishes, triumphant and stubborn.
“I’m aware.”
Cas is already grinning, which is the worst possible thing he could be doing. August turns back to the phone. The preview shows both of them: Cas still in the pose, still pleased with himself, and August beside him with an expression that could charitably be described as actively suppressing something.
“Again,” August says, not looking at him.
“Again,” Cas agrees, and does not stop grinning.
blind box BJD elitism is so dumb. "not real art" my ass. if your doll has that elastic limb system it's a BJD, mass-produced or not. it's like saying Barbies aren't art because they're sold in department stores and not out of somebody's basement.
you wanna criticize the consumerism or the gambling element of blind boxes, go right ahead. the art argument just makes you a gatekeeping snob.
Gonna be honest, I don't like the attitude I've seen from a lot of people regarding mature/n$fw dolls. If that's not your cup of tea, that's fine. But the way some people speak about them and ppl who own them is giving "our PURE & INNOCENT bjds vs. your DEGENERATE FETI$H slop"
Let people enjoy their dolls however they want plz. Some of us enjoy big tiddy boys and girls, suggestive faceups and sharing our pics of them in suggestive poses. It's literally not hurting anyone. The community isn't being "tainted" because ppl enjoy the hobby in different ways
