#ALTERNATIVELY: maybe i AM evil and maybe i DO suck :O

[bird-lube-now]

i know that like. developing feelings for a friend is just about the most normal human experience possible, like everybody does it what are ya gonna do. AND YET i've managed to convince myself that i'm uniquely evil and predatory because i've committed the crime of Thinking My Friends Are Sexy.

it also causes some. weird fuckin feedback in my brain when it hits the "probably some sorta aroace" center, but there's probably a lot more to unpack there tbh.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

[dorky-self-shipper] 🎫 here’s a gush pass :3 feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers

Oh, my friend!!! Ahhh thank you so much for sending this in!! I have been a bit iffy because some things in my life have been piling up, but!!! I am so excited to dig into this!!! I really need a good gushing session haha!

Today's target for gushing hours with your girl Ash is none other than Yaag Rosch!

This ended up being pretty long, and is a mix of lore, screaming, keyboard smashes, his gorgeous design, and more screaming.

Saying that this man lives in my head rent free is an understatement. He is all I think about it. Honestly, I think it's funny considering Yaag's role in FF13. He's only around in the first game, and shows up in like five cutscenes.

Also. We get crumbs of him in the novels. More on that later. Back to the game.

All he does is "hey yall suck" "your lives don't matter" "uhh i need to kill you guys" "oh wait no i'm not evil" "*dies*"

But!!! He's very cool!! His character is so interesting to me. He's so driven to do whatever it takes, but beneath his actions, there's always an edge of hesitation. He seems like he comes off as so sure of himself, but... I'm not sure about that. Now, I can't say anything for sure because the writers hate him, I really liked those few moments where we get to see his actual thoughts.

For example, "Do you think we want to Purge our own people?!" And things like that where you see him question his orders. I feel like there's a lot of underlying hatred, distrust, and overall fear of the system.

Also, his development from "They aren't people, they're targets." to "I'll trust in your humanity." Gets me every single time.

Also don't get me started on his "if this is my punishment... i accept it." when he's bleeding line.

I am here to gush, not analyze. But both are happening anyway.

I feel as though he puts a lot of thought into what he says and how he acts, and I really do admire that.

For context, Lieutenant Colonel Yaag Rosch is this military higher-up guy. I remember seeing him for the first time and my jaw simply dropping. I know that these games have a history with hot villains. After all, I am an FF7 fan. I have seen the SOLDIERS, I have seen the Turks, I've seen Rufus. They're all hot.

There. I said it.

This intro scene gave us some damn good food. Like??? The silver hair??? The ponytail??? The scar on his forehead??? The overly dramatic speech about how the protagonists need to be eliminated??AJKLFNAWKJFNAWKLJFNWILEN.

(Also, I'm beginning to see the resemblance he has to Felix. I am a very predictable woman, aren't I?)

I am actually going to scream. He’s so handsome!!! His jaw!! His eyes are such a pretty color too!!! I wanna give him a kiss ahhh!! Especially on his forehead scar!!! He's so... woah.

Also, he has a really, really nice voice. Like??? WOW. I want this man to like. narrate my life. Here, lemme find some clips of him talking.

Here. Enjoy.

This one is a fan favorite as well.

It's not a Rick roll. I promise.

..... Unless?

Anyways, as time went on, I realized that he's actually such a deep and interesting character?? He gets done dirty by the writers and the game, but the potential he has makes me so excited!! There's so much material to work off of!!! Truly one of the more interesting villains the trilogy has to offer. Honestly, it's kind of difficult going through the second game knowing that he isn't there.

However, it's also difficult going through the second game because I??? Can't beat?? The goddamn boss fight??? I'm also playing on easy mode. I didn't struggle this much during the first game either. What the hell, Ash.

Back to the actual topic.

I'm gonna start off with his design before we delve into s/i lore and fun tidbits.

(His coat is so cool... Do you think he'd let me wear it? I'd probably waddle around in it because he's pretty tall and I. I am not.

He's around 6'2 (around almost 188 cm..? I think?), but take into account his boots too. Which means that normally he's slightly taller. That means that he's about a foot taller than me. That means that I'm pretty much the perfect height to bury my face in his chest. *screams*)

Talk about a kickass design. He's really cool to look at. Not only, uhm, *blushes*, but because of how cool his outfit is too! It does a really good job of portraying that "heyyy i'm super importtanntttt" energy that he has. He carries himself like he's the shit. And you know what? He is.

He's pretty professional. Minus the times he gets kinda pissed. The novels say, and I quote,

"They said he was the most straitlaced man in PSICOM - if you put serious and stubborn in a military uniform, you'd get Colonel Rosch."

And yeah. That basically sums it up.

Also, there's this scene where he gets all pissed and pulls out his sword and I'm over here like *insert debby ryan hair thing here*. I'm telling you, it's always the sword boys that get me. I'm sure you've noticed that by now. I don't know what it is but. It's a thing.

Oh!!! Oh!!! Speaking of the *tucks hair behind ear*, there's this one scene where he's chasing the protagonists. And he goes, "Clever, aren't you?"

*SCREAMS*

That scene is truly a masterpiece. Thank you for the good food, Squeenix. I remember having to take a moment to just pause and regather myself. Actually, I had to do that the first time I saw him too-

I wasn't alone at the time when he was introduced so I was just silently like "ohmygodhellosir ajrfnaklwenjklwenjklrn" but oh my GOODNESS.

My s/i works with him! She's pretty much his right hand woman. She always has reports and intel on all their missions ready to go! I find it cute how well they work together, be it for mission-related matters, or just when they're relaxing together.

Just like pretty much all of my other s/is, she's a raging academic and total nerd. In the first game, they basically live on this human paradise called Cocoon. It ends up not being so great because the gods want to murder humanity but anyways! Education is pretty much free and you can study whatever you're passionate about. That's why she has studied just so many things.

She's not exactly the type who aspired to join the military, but alas! Things happened. I like to think of it as a "heyyyy y'all needed my help once and then once turned to twice and twice to thrice and then i never left" type thing.

Oh, and then she fell in love with Yaag while she was there.

Her cheery attitude is a direct opposite to his, but they're also able to have some very serious conversations with each other. I love their dynamic so much! Also, he can get a bit softer when he's opening up to her and,,, Soft Yaag??? Hoo boy.

Her motives and beliefs tend to align a bit more with the Cavalry branch, but i feel as though she fits in better with PSICOM. Also, the book describes the soldiers to be a bunch of dumbass dorks and just the thought of her smiling and cracking jokes with all of Yaag's men make me super happy.

Oh and she gets a cool uniform too! Because I said so.

Now, they've known each other for years by the time the end of the first game rolls around. They're happy together, maybe even engaged! It can go one of two ways here. He either dies or he doesn't.

I like adhering really closely to canon with my ships (*laughs in genesis angst*) but I also think it would be a blast if he were to survive.

In the novels after his death, some recordings of his are found. It's basically him talking about how the government sucks from the inside. A character finds these and reveals them to the public to get rid of the old government and an invite a newer one that actually cares about the people. However, it's never quite stated how he got those recordings. And that's where Ash steps in.

She brings them to his attention and helps him out, but then returns to live with the rest of the remaining soldiers in that camp they set up in the second novel. They all look up to her as a leader-type, which I find is really funny because she doesn't exactly have the qualifications? She worked with PSICOM, but was never exactly a soldier. But hey, it's right after the world (quite literally) fell apart, I don't think that anybody cares about that.

Also, there's another chapter where Snow ends up visiting, and she has a friendly chat with him!!! She helped out the protagonists a little bit near the end of the first game, so they have a slight idea of who each other are, but that doesn't exactly change the fact that she fell under the category of villain for a lot of it, despite not actually being a bad person. I also think that their dynamic would be fun. Snow also just makes me really happy LMAO.

I think that this version of Ash is really fun just because of how much the experience hardens her? She spends a lot of time grieving. Also!!! Whether or not she makes a cameo in 13-2 (maybe near the ruins early game?) is totallllyyyy up to you hehe! I think it would be neat for her to talk to the protagonists of that game, especially since Yaag was the one who orchestrated the Purge and at the ruins, there's a huge monument of the names of people who were killed there.

Also, whether or not she has a son here is up to you. I like to think of all my ideas all happening in alternate timelines so everything I want can happen without stepping on other events? I imagine their child to have Yaag's pretty silver hair with Ash's brown eyes.

Also, 13-2 is about time travel so like. The protagonists meeting their child in the future when he's all grown up? Good stuff.

But hey, in the main timeline she's alone after Yaag's death. She helps the other characters. I also think that in time, she does work for the Academy? I mentioned that she's pretty nerdy earlier, so that definitely helps out. She's super cool!!! Such a badass!!!

Now, on the flipside of things, what if he survived? Then what happens? shameless self promo

Yaag still has those recordings, and they do still reach Captain Rygdea. They both live in the small village that the remnants of PSICOM created. It's a sweet life. Are fankids a thing in their future? Yeah, probably.

I feel like Yaag would be a really good dad. I headcanon that he has a very strong relationship with his own father as well. He's caring and stern, but also knows when to turn down the serious scale. The novels also say that he likes kids!?!?!? I know I've screamed about this point like 24892 times on my blog. But.

It's so cute??? Who would expect this super serious and mean man who quite literally says that the protagonists aren't people, they're targets to like children of all things???? It really is my favorite thing ever just because of how cute it is. I also have a few tiny cousins in my family, so him playing with them makes me very soft too.

("Would you please stop tugging on my hair- Ash, this is not a laughing matter!" "Oh, but it so is.")

I think that detail really helps hint at him having a more gentle side? And I adore that.

Also, I mentioned how Snow pays a visit to the PSICOM camp after the events of the first game? I think that would be very interesting with Yaag there because before Yaag dies in canon, Snow says, "Stay alive. We'll see you when it's over."

And now he finally gets to see him. The conversation would get surprisingly deep and definitely dive into Yaag's motives and real thoughts about his actions in the game. I really enjoy the few interactions those two have in the game.

Anyways, now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's dig into the meat and potatoes of this ship.

In 13-2, they get a separate dlc side story just to themselves. Because I said so. I'm not sure how the plot of this works, but it's basically them exploring Gran Pulse together. Maybe to map things out? Maybe to get better acquainted with the world they thought was a hell their whole lives? Maybe there's some sort of big mission they have to do? We'll figure it out.

Basically, it's a whole side story of them exploring and kicking monster ass together. The combat is regular 13 combat.

Yaag has his sword along with some explosives (we see him carry some grenades at the end when he blew himself up). And Ash also has a sword because I like swords.

In the game, usually only l'Cie, or magic god slaves, can use magic. However, after the fal'Cie (magic gods) go poof at the end of the end of the first game, some normal humans can use magic? It makes no sense and exists only for plot convenience, but I'm not complaining because it makes my plot easier too.

My point is, Ash can use magic! Because A) she's quirky mage material B) we need a balanced team C) Every single version of Ash so far has been a mage. D) I like magic a lot. Would be my go-to as well.

Also, if you're interested in how they work in battle, roles divide up very nicely between them.

Yaag has: -Commando (physical attacks) -Sentinel (beefy tanks) -Sabuteur (debuffing enemies)

Ash has: -Ravager (magic goes brrr) -Medic (i think you know) -Synergist (buffing allies) -Commando (physical attacks)

Maybe Yaag could get medic too to balance off the load in battle? They're a blast in combat because they really do compliment each other.

Anyways, back to the adventure.

It's the two of them traveling around. The main focus of it is their conversations as they travel. There's a lot of fun banter. Ya know how like when you're walking around in Naughty Dog games and your characters are just chatting? Yeah. That.

Their conversations are super random and they cover pretty much every single topic ever. They go from really serious to them just being stupid. I love their friendly banter.

Also, when they set up camp and are about to sleep, we get to see sleepy Yaag in action. And do you know what that means?

It means we get to see Yaag with his hair done a bit looser, maybe even down!!! Yaag with his hair down is all I want to see. It's what we deserve. It's what we need. The day that I see Yaag with his hair down is the day i achieve true happiness LMAO.

It's what we need.

Ash playing with his hair??? Yes, I most definitely think so.

Oh and there is totally a "Yaag, I'm cold." "Allow me to help remedy that. *pulls her closer*" type moment because they're cute like that.

All in all, their travels are really fun. Maybe somewhere around there they run into the protagonists? Either from the first game or the second game. I think that would be a fun mess.

I feel like Yaag can show a softer side of him around her and that makes me really happy. He deserves to be happy and I love him very much.

I think about him all the time, and just the thought of him holding me makes me so happy. He really is just adorable.

Before I wrap this up, I have a few more things I want to speak about! Firstly, allow me to share one of my favorite pictures of him because oh. my. god.

*screams*

The urge to backhug him!!! Ahh!!! He's so cute!!!! I just wanna hold him aelajflanef.

One of my favorite pre-relationship moments from them is this one time where Yaag is pretty down in the dumps, and Ash is talking to him about it and offering her advice. And as she talks, she gently places a hand over his (they're seated side by side btw). He looks up at her in shock, and she takes back her hand is like, "O-oh! I'm so sorry, I should've asked first, I just thought tha-"

And then he just snatches her hand back and gently holds it. You can see the tips of his ears burning red haha! I think that they're pretty cute ajfwnjklef

She always tries her best to take care of him, too! He needs a hug, and she is more than happy to provide. She always tries to remind him to eat his meals on time and such, even if she can be questionable at following her own advice at times. She can also be a bit of a tease sometimes, so he can get pretty annoyed (not really, he thinks it's cute) sometimes.

However, he also does his best to take care of her. Would he pull the "that's an order." card after she refuses to rest, pulling several late-nighters for work? Yeah. Probably. He's very caring, even if he can come off as very serious and scary sometimes.

To wrap things up, I love Yaag Rosch.

Thank you for your time.

[snowdice]

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 31]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. All of chapter 11 and what I have of chapter 12 is under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today.

The Goblin Brain™ is acting up today. Save me.

Virgil smiled awkwardly at the cashier when he entered the gas station. He went straight to the coffee to get Patton one. He went ahead and got the largest size cup because they were probably going to be a while and started to fill it up at the machine.

He… didn’t quite understand why the man was still going to be driving him when he didn’t have a knife on him, but hopefully it wasn’t a trick. It was probably a trick. He should probably tell the cashier he’d been kidnapped.

But then the cashier would definitely call the cops and knowing his mother Virgil would definitely be screwed.

So, instead, Virgil put the lid on Patton’s coffee and found that there was one plain donut with chocolate frosting still in the case. He grabbed that and then searched around the candy aisle for a bit. He finally settled on a pack of Red Vines and grabbed a blue raspberry slushie. If he was going to get axe murdered by some guy that kept a stuffed bear named Barnaby in his car, he was going to do so with a blue tongue.

He handed over the 20-dollar bill to the cashier and then gathered up the snacks and drinks to take them to the car.

He caught Patton with his phone in his hands while he was pumping gas. “Hey, what are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“Just sending a text to my brother so he doesn’t worry too much,” Patton replied quickly. Virgil gave him a suspicious look. When it became clear that Virgil wasn’t going to willingly take a step closer to the car after that, Patton sighed and held out his phone. “You can see,” he said.

Virgil set the drinks and snacks down on the hood of the car and took the phone. The phone indeed was open to just a string of emojis sent to someone called “Lo-Lo” in Patton’s phone. The string of emojis read (insert emoji string)

“There is… no way he’d understand that,” Virgil said. “I barely understand it and I lived it.” He paused. “I am not a baby.”

Patton snatched the phone back. “I didn’t say you were.”

“You typed ‘knife baby’ in emoji!” Virgil said.

“Baby with a knife actually,” Patton said unrepentant. He grabbed his coffee and donut off the hood of the car and opened the driver’s door to put the drink in the cup holder and the donut on the seat. Then, he went to finish up pumping the gas.

Virgil frowned, but he did pick up his snack and drink and get into the passenger seat. He’d already thrown his lots in with the possible serial killer anyway.

Patton finished pumping the gas and got back into the car. “Don’t sit on your…” he sat on his donut.

“Oops!” he said. He sat up and grabbed the donut to take a bite. “Still good,” he declared with a grin.

Virgil rolled his eyes and took a long drag of the slushie.

“Don’t get brain freeze!”

“Whatever da-” He froze, chocking on the word.

Patton looked over at him, his face turning serious suddenly.

“Hey kiddo,” the man said softly. He reached over to put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with warm earnest eyes. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay, okay?”

Virgil looked away from his far too knowing eyes. “You don’t even know me, why would you?”

“I like helping people when I can. A couple hours of driving aren’t much to make sure someone else is safe. I spend a lot of my life driving anyway.”

“What do you even do?” Virgil asked.

“I mostly do odd jobs for my brother.”

“That doesn’t sound like a real job,” Virgil said.

He started the car and began to back up as he answered. “Do you know much about real jobs, then?” he asked.

“Well…” Virgil said. “I mean, no, but… still.”

Patton smiled over at him. “Okay, I answered a question about me-”

‘Did you though,’ Virgil thought, his eyes narrowed.

“Now you answer a question about you.”

“Why?” Virgil asked suspiciously.

“Well, we have an hour and a half of driving left and neither of us are kidnapped anymore, we might as well get to know each other.”

“What’s the question?”

“What’s your favorite subject in school?” Patton asked cheerily.

“Really?” Virgil asked. “Is this what we’re doing?” Patton just smiled over at him and Virgil went about tearing open his package of Red Vines. “English,” he said taking a bite of his candy.

“I always liked History myself, but English was fun.”

Virgil hummed. “You have any family other than your brother?” he asked.

“Lo has two sons. They’re twins.”

“Cool,” Virgil replied.

“Favorite color?”

“Purple. So, you don’t have kids then?”

“Not of my own,” Patton replied. “But I helped with the twins when they were younger, and I like to think of all of my coworkers as my kiddos.”

Virgil’s face twisted up. He didn’t know much about adult workplaces, but… “I’m sure they appreciate that,” Virgil scoffed

“I like to think so,” Patton said, not even seeming to register the skepticism in Virgil’s tone. Was the man ever anything but chipper? “Favorite movie?”

“Ratatouille,” he said on instinct and then felt his stomach drop. His favorite movie was Ratatouille because Uncle Emile always insisted on playing it during movie nights. Dad would complain loudly because he knew that Emile and Virgil would spend the rest of the night making jokes about dad having the same name as the rat.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” Virgil said.

Patton glanced over at him in surprise. “Okay,” he said softly. Virgil was thankful he didn’t try to push.

They drove for another 10 minutes. Virgil did his best not to think about… everything, but it got increasingly harder. He tugged on the sleeved of his hoodie, his slushie and Red Vines forgotten. Finally, Patton looked back over at him, his eyes concerned. Virgil curled into himself expecting him to try to needle Virgil into talking.

Instead he just smiled sadly at him. “Why don’t we play a different game?”

“I… sure,” Virgil agreed. Might as well. Maybe it would help. “What game?”

“Ooo!” Patton said. “How about ‘I Kill Your Cows’? Lo always threatens to kill me by the end of that game.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah!” Patton said, “Because that means I’m winning.”

Virgil puffed out an amused breath. “Okay. How do you play?” he asked.

“Well,” Patton said. “Basically, when you see a group of cows you can claim them and say ‘I have 10 cows’ or however many there are. Whoever says it first gets the cows. If you see a church or other place people get married, you can say ‘I marry my cows’ and then your cows double. If you see a graveyard, you can say ‘I kill your cows’ and reset the other player back to zero cows. If you see a barn you can say ‘I put however many cows in that barn’ and the cows go in the barn. When they’re in the barn, they can’t be killed, but they can’t be married either. You have to wait to see another barn before you can take them out.”

“Alright,” Virgil agreed. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great!” Patton said. “There’s a field of them up there. Since you’re new to the game, I’ll let you grab the first few.”

Virgil squinted at the cows in the field. “I have 6 cows,” he said.

“Nice job!” Patton said.

Virgil rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what was impressive about counting a few cows, but he smiled a bit anyway.

They continued to play the cow game for a while. Patton was obviously really good at this game and obviously trying to not be as good at the game as he actually was so Virgil wouldn’t loose by a million cows.

They turned on the radio after a while. Unfortunately, the conspiracy channel had fizzled out by now so they turned to a local station that played a mix of music.

“Can I take horses?” Virgil asked after about 20 minutes of play.

“Sure,” Patton replied. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, I have 4 horses.”

“Ooo!” Patton said. “That horsey is a palomino! I’ll trade you two cows for that horse.”

Virgil was pretty sure that’s not how it was supposed to work. But… Patton was 18 animals ahead… “20,” Virgil countered.

Patton glanced over at him. “5.”

“15.”

“10.”

“11, so I’m winning for once.”

He thought about it for a long moment. “Deal,” he finally said.

“Yes!” Virgil said excitedly. “I’m winning!”

Patton smiled over at him. “I have five cows,” he said.

Virgil’s head shot up to look out the windshield. There were, in fact, five cows in the pasture right in front of them. “Dammit!”

Patton coughed meaningfully.

“You can’t murder me like that and then get mad when I cuss,” Virgil grumbled.

“Aw, cheer up kiddo. At least we haven’t found a graveyard yet.”

“But when we do, you will guiltlessly murder all of my cows,” Virgil said. “Because you are truly evil.”

Patton just laughed at him. Virgil grumpily reached forward to turn up the radio so he could ignore him easier.

The song that was playing faded out as he did so, and the radio jockey came on the air. “Quick traffic update, there’s been an accident on I-26. A semi-truck full of cattle rolled over near exit 52 and eastbound traffic has been stopped. If you’re on I-26, we’d suggest you find an alternative route as it will take a while to get all of the cows rounded up.”

“Well I’m glad we got off the interstate when we did,” said Patton.

“Yeah,” agreed Virgil. “It would suck to be stuck in the middle of that.” He paused and listened to the radio jockey continue to explain that the semi had been carrying at least 150 cows. “Hey, Patton, can I claim cows remotely?”

  Chapter 12

Remus sulked in the back of Roman’s car. It wasn’t fair. His brother and his best friend were both in the front seat and had been mocking him for the past 10 minutes and they wouldn’t even put on an interesting music station. Roman even told him about the time he’d peed on a wasp sting thinking it would work like it did for jellyfish.

“We should play a car game,” Remus suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Roman said immediately.

“Come on Ro, it’s tradition,” Remus said.

“You kill my cows every time!” Roman said. “You could kill Uncle Patton’s cows since he’s always winning, but you always choose to kill my cows!”

“But RooooOOO.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Remus relented. “No Cow Game.”

“Thank you.”

“I spy with my-”

“No, Remus.”

Remus paused. “I’m thinking of an animal.”

“I’m not playing Remus.”

They sat in silence for about 20 seconds. “There’s a Kentucky drivers license. One point for me.”

Roman chose to just ignore him now.

“Janus you’ll play with me, won’t you?” he asked.

“Remus, I don’t even know what you’re talking about and you’re already annoying me,” was the answer.

“Come on if we’re going to listen to stupid music, we should at least play a game. How about we try to find things outside of the car in alphabetical order. I’ll start. Airport sign! Now you find something starting with the letter ‘b’.”

[overthinkingkdrama]

hi! love in sadness anon again. if you can rec some good melos i would be thankful.

[Oh my gosh, anon. I suck. Seriously. I’ve been trying to sit down and get this done from the moment I got your ask and I just haven’t been able to do it. Anyway, hopefully you see this. Thank you for your patience.]

Little do you know how long I have been waiting for this moment. This is my time to shine! Jk, but I would be happy to give recs. It’s a delight. I started going through my MDL and realized just how many dramas in this genre I have actually seen and realized I would probably have to trim my recommendations somewhat not to seem like a crazy person. Also I have subcategories! Yay!

(I’ve included the *** next to titles that I have watched multiple times or that stand out from the rest of the pack.)

First of all, Movie Melos.

Sometimes you don’t have time for 16-30 hours of drama. Sometimes you want to get all your feels out in a single sitting and move on with your life. That’s where movies are so helpful. My favorite bite-sized melos are:

Always*** – An ex-con trying to get his life together falls in love with a blind woman, but his efforts to help her recover her sight might drag him right back into the violence he’s tried to escape.

Shoot My Heart – A young heir is forced into a mental hospital by his rich family where he meets a disturbed young man. They become friends, try to protect each other, and eventually escape. This one has a bit more of a comedic element to it than the other movies I’m recommending, but there’s plenty of the melo tone as the movie goes on.

Will You Be There? – After finding out that he’s dying of cancer, a man travels through time to beg his younger self to save the life of his first love.

Butterfly Sleep – This is a Japanese movie, but it also stars Korean actor Kim Jae Wook, who recently got a boost in popularity from Her Private Life. The movie revolves around a poor young man from Korea who ends up living with an older woman, a novelist who has just discovered she is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, and the passionate relationship that develops between the two as he helps her finish what will be her final book. #tragedy_tag

High Quality, Human Melodramas

So, this category is for if you want something with all the emotional gut punch of a really wild family drama, but you also want your melos to have actual artistic merit so when you tell your non-drama watching friends and family members about them they don’t end up losing respect for your taste.

Just Between Lovers – This is the story of two young people involved in and scarred by the same horrific accident, but survived and end up finding solace in one another as they deal with their combined traumas. If you’ve seen this drama around the kdramasphere on tumblr you might have seen a lot of gifs of the soft romance. Don’t be fooled though. The romance is indeed wonderful, but the themes are heavy and it can be rough sit.

My Mister*** – I really am just looking for every possible opportunity to recommend this drama. It has supplanted my former favorites and become my top drama of all time. It’s about two people, a troubled young woman in her 20′s and a structural engineer in his 40′s who have become beaten down and broken by life. Their two lives end up intersecting and they develop a really complex friendship that changes both of their lives. Acting, writing, directing…I have nothing bad to say about My Mister. This drama is actually perfect. 

The Smile Has Left Your Eyes – Do you like your melos a bit murdery? I know I sure do. Give me a sociopath any day of the week and I’ll say, “Thank you. I’ll take two.” This drama is about a young man who might be a monster. He becomes a detectives prime suspect in a murder investigation. At the same time he meets the detectives younger sister and they begin to fall in love. #tragedy_tag If this sounds like your thing, but you don’t like super sad endings check out Hello Monster, also starring Seo In Guk.

Secret Love Affair – I think it’s probably safe to say this drama is considered a modern kdrama classic, and for good reason. A story revolving around a woman who gave up her dreams for security, trapped in a loveless marriage, who meets a piano savant from an extremely underprivileged background and he sets off a spark for passion, music and love that she hasn’t felt in a long time. This is a quiet, pensive drama with a lot of wonderful music and atmosphere. YMMV depending on your tolerance for cheating and a slow-burn pace.

Alright, Cut the Crap Jona, Show Me the Extra Soapy Guilty Pleasure Dramas We All Know You Like…

Maybe you don’t go in for this type of self-conscious, “serious” drama watching. You’re going to watch these things in the sanctity of your own room and never tell a soul about them. Or perhaps you’ve evolved past needing other people’s approval to enjoy the things you like. Good for you, I say! As it should be. In that case, I have some top shelf makjang crack to deal you. This is the part of the list where the sliding scale of quality gets a little wobbly. Most of these shows contain a little, if not a lot, of crazysauce. All of them are over-the-top melo fun.

Baker King Kim Tak Gu – A drama about the illegitimate son of a conglomerate CEO who has inherited his preternatural baking abilities looking for his place in a family that will never acknowledge him. Yeah, the premise is pretty “what”? When I first watched this drama I thought it was supposed to be a satire of the makjang genre. To this day I’m not sure how seriously this drama actually takes itself. What I will say is it’s hella entertaining, even as it piles on more than it’s share of craziness (machinations, murder, affairs, chaebol fuckery, love polygons, gangsters, birth secrets, and on and on.) I was surprisingly invested and remarkably satisfied by the ending.

Ms. Perfect – This drama is something of a gothic romance/makjang melo mash up. It involves a woman whose marriage shatters just as she loses her home and finds herself desperate to take care of her family. She’s enticed by a mysterious woman to live with her in her huge house, but this stranger has eerie motivations of her own. Really fun, weird show. But brace yourself to be blue-balled by the romance. It’s one steamy make out session from being noona-romance catnip. 

Money Flower*** – I unironically love this drama. It’s very close to the platonic ideal of the Revenge Melo. It involves a Dantes-esque male lead, Kang Pil Joo, who is willing to destroy himself to enact his multi-decade revenge on a wealthy family that took everything from him. He is the shadow of a spoiled young heir who he plans to use to take down the whole evil empire of Chungha group, but in order to do that he has to orchestrate the heir’s marriage with the innocent daughter of a powerful politician, the woman who Pil Joo himself is in love with.

That Winter, The Wind Blows – This one is a lurid conman tail about a gambler who, in his attempts to pay back a dangerous gangster out for his life, pretends to be the prodigal brother of a blind heiress. He tries to get the money and skip town, but ends up falling in love with the mark which comes with a host of other complications, not the least of which is she thinks he’s her brother. This one is high on the guilty-pleasure-o-meter for me.

Come and Hug Me – Some people might disagree with my putting this one on here, but for me the premise is too wildly melodramatic to omit. The leads start out as childhood sweethearts, but the problem is his father is a deranged serial killer and her parents end up two of his victims. As adults he becomes a detective trying to make up for his father’s legacy of cruelty and she becomes a famous actress like her mother. Traumas resurface when she becomes the target of an apparent copycat and their past connection becomes the fixation of a ruthless tabloid journalist.

Thank You – After his fiancee dies of cancer, a Doctor travels to a remote island to fulfill her last wish–to help the family of a little girl the late fiancee was responsible for inadvertently infecting with HIV. Unexpectedly he finds himself attracted to the girl’s single mother. However, he will have to contend with the prejudices of the island people about AIDS and the reappearance with the girl’s father. This one is as heavy as it sounds, and the oldest drama on this list, from 2007, with all the idiosyncrasies that go along with older dramas. But it’s remarkably well done. From the same writer of a bunch of classic melodramas (I’m Sorry, I Love You; A Love To Kill; Innocent Man; Uncontrollably Fond, etc) but this is my personal favorite of hers.

The Last Empress – Okay, I couldn’t omit this one. I tried. Average musical actress Oh Sunny winds up married to the Emperor in an alternate history version of Korea and becomes embroiled in the machinations of the corrupt royal family. With a nice side helping of revenge plot. It’s demonstrably not a good show. It’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen. But it had me hooked early on and then I couldn’t get myself free. What a magnificent train wreck this drama was. If you’re looking for problematic nonsense melos that were MASSIVE hits in Korea and you’re torn between this and Baker King, go with the silly bread show and keep this one in your back pocket.

Fated to Love You – This one is probably the most off-brand on the list, because it leans heavily on the comedic tone, especially for the first half. There’s a definite turn at the midpoint of the drama where it becomes MUCH more melodramatic (with all the tropes you expect to go along with that), but I think it pulls of the transition impressively well. Besides, it’s a fun watch with a fluffy feelgood ending with a bow on top. It’s a dash of sugar for your melodrama sojourn, a genre that admittedly can be a bit of a bummer.

There it is. I tried to do an extra good job with my list because it took me so long to get it out. I’m sorry again. Happy watching!

Jona

[the-elemental-sides]

The Elemental Sides: Chapter 8

Urban fantasy AU: The Sides are four spirits trapped in an amulet. When Thomas finds it and puts it on, he gains the powers of the four elements…or that’s what should have happened, but mistakes were made. Now the Sides have to coach him in their respective elements while Thomas deals with both his new powers and his ability to see into the magical realm. Not only is magic real, but there’s some pretty intimidating stuff out there, and only Thomas and the Sides have the power to stop it.

A/N: It is here! Chapter 8, my favorite number! It’s been about a year since the creation of this blog + the very first chapter of TES. Thanks so much for sticking with me. May this story be finished by 2020!

Taglist: @shinylyni, @hissesssss, @vexation-virgil, @madd-catter, @rptheturk, @nienna14, @ryuity, @asofterfan, @robanilla, @k9cat, @ab-artist, @absoluteamethyst, @a-box-o-jills, @captain-loki-xavier, @lynisnotamused, @literally-just-for-fanfics, @alix-the-skeleton, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lunareclipse-524

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

*** Thomas and Roman, spirits, faced off in the middle of his living room.

“No hitting,” warned Patton. He paused. “Okay, that’s the only rule. Go wild, kids!”

They moved at the same time. Thomas’ hand burst into flame, but it was literally sucked out of his grasp by Roman and thrown back into his face. Since it was translucent, the fire passed through him harmlessly and splashed against the far wall.

“Point to Roman,” Logan said to the book in his hands. He marked a tally on Roman’s side of the chalkboard, but it ended up sideways because he wasn’t looking at what he was doing.

“Three weeks and I haven’t gotten a single point,” groaned Thomas. “Against any of you!”

“It’s about more than just who can fire the first shot, cowboy,” said Roman. “It’s about willpower! You have to really control your powers, not just summon them.”

“Okay.” Thomas swept his hair out of his face, vaguely wondering how Virgil could stand having bangs in his eyes all the time. “Can I try again?”

“More like you can try, again. Patton, count us off!”

“Three-two-one-fight!”

This time, Thomas was a little more prepared. He waited for Roman to pitch the first fireball before catching it from midair and chucking it back. The fire flew back and forth between them before Roman caught it and extinguished the flame.

“That’s cheating!” Thomas protested.

“I think not! I was just getting bored.”

“Boo, lame.”

“I agree, point to Thomas,” said Logan, marking the board.

Thomas fist-pumped while Roman protested. “I was just playing around. Look! More fire! I can keep going.”

“Actually, you should be done for the day,” Virgil interrupted. “I don’t want Thomas to run out of energy. He promised he’d practice water today, too.”

“Aw, but we’re on a roll!”

“No, he’s right,” Thomas agreed. “I’m kind of falling behind with water.”

“No such problems with earth, because I am the best teacher,” Logan muttered into his book.

Roman turned on him. “Are not!”

“Completely am.”

“I don’t mean to brag, but Thomas is pretty darn good with my air powers, considering he’s an Earthbender,” Patton remarked. (He’d finally caught up with Avatar and had completely bought into how they handled elemental powers in the series.) “So maybe he’s just natur-air-ly talented?”

“You’re impossible.”

In the weeks since he’d fought his first shadow monster, Thomas had had a lot of adjusting to do. While he was capable of destroying the smaller shadows when he came across them on busy streets, in buildings, and even in his own apartment, the Sides continued to coach him. They didn’t want another close call like they’d had with that big one in the grocery store.

It didn’t feel like he was making much of a difference, but the Sides applauded him every time he destroyed one of the little bad-vibe blobs. They were even thrilled every time he showed that he was improving with their powers. He couldn’t see any tangible difference in the world around him, but through their encouragement Thomas did start to feel a little like he was becoming a hero.

Meanwhile, besides the Sides, life continued as usual. Thomas was working just as hard on his videos. He was hard at work on his second episode of Cartoon Therapy–which was, of course, based off Avatar.

The first time he showed up to the space they’d rented, already in his Picani garb, Joan gave him a weird look when they met him at the door. “You’re still wearing that necklace?”

Thomas looked down at the crystal. Being huge and sparkly, it was difficult not to notice and impossible to hide under a shirt. “Oh, yeah, guess I am.”

“I mean, wear whatever, dude. But I don’t get what it has to do with Picani.”

“No, you’re right, I’ll take it off.” Thomas reached for the chain. Of course he had to take the crystal off sometimes, for showering and stuff, but the Sides always hated it when they were forced back in the crystal for a while. When he wasn’t in direct contact with it, they couldn’t keep up their mind palace and all the other cool amenities they’d built inside. They had to go back to the dreamless state that Logan explained they’d existed in for the last fifteen years.

He waited a beat just to make sure he had their permission. Roman, acting emissary, appeared. He simultaneously gave Thomas a thumbs down, shrugged, and stuck his tongue out: we don’t like it, but you do what you need. Thomas tugged the crystal off and felt a little lonely when their presences disappeared from the back of his head. After that, the filming session went fine.

Between managing his YouTube career, finding time for his friends, and practicing his steadily improving magic powers on unsuspecting shadow blobs, Thomas was busier than ever. So it surprised him when Patton started egging him to take a vacation.

“Now? Really?”

“Sure, kiddo! Don’t you deserve a mental health day?”

“I’m fine,” Thomas said with a frown. “I mean, I’m holding up okay…”

“He’s right, actually,” Logan said, popping into view in Thomas’ chair (Thomas and Patton were currently in the kitchen trying to cook up some Indian food, and it was going poorly). “We’ve been discussing this. While I agree it’s important to keep your mental state functioning properly, the purpose of this vacation would also be to allow your to exercise your powers in ways you might be less familiar wi–Patton, watch out!”

“Oops!” Patton had thrown a handful of curry leaves into a pan on the stove, which was filled with oil sizzling at max heat. It immediately burst into flames.

On instinct, Patton dodged in front of Thomas and shot a blast of air at the smoking pan. It did nothing but spatter oil droplets all over the table and Logan, who was unamused. Thomas put out the fire by scooping it up in his hands and extinguishing it.

“...Oops.”

“Patton, honestly. How did you ever feed yourself?”

“I get the feeling it involved a lot of ice cream for dinner!”

“Whew.” Thomas exhaled. Fire was actually a lot less scary when you could just kind of...erase it.

“As I was saying,” Logan said in a clipped voice, “by ‘vacation,’ we’re not telling you to hang around at home in your pajamas for three days. No, what we’re suggesting is that you go learn some history....about the origin of your powers.”

“Wow! I could do that?”

“Well, of course. Where do you think we got the crystal?”

“I have no idea! Where?”

Logan paused. “...We don’t know either. Our time in the crystal left our memories, ah, spotty. Some vital details such as this have been lost. However, Virgil, who tends to remember these things best, has an inkling of where exactly he obtained it.”

“That’s right,” Virgil said, appearing–and sitting on the table, but luckily his butt was a ghost at the moment anyway. He glared at Patton. “And jeez, Pat, were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Oi’l be more careful next time!”

“Pretending I didn’t hear that. Thomas, here’s what I remember. When we, uh. When we decided to test the whole crystal thing, we knew we needed a good one, obviously. We got our powers and then we started searching around for something, some kind of gem, that matched the parameters Logan laid out.”

“Robust. Undamaged. Prismatic. Sensitive to magic—by that, we mean whether it reacted when placed in certain stress simulations involving the shadows.”

“Uh, yeah. So I found a good one in this one super goth back-alley jewelry store–”

Thomas gasped. “Borgin and Burkes?!”

“No? I don’t know what that is? Look, anyway, I found a good one,  s–uhh, I stole it–”

“WHAT”

“–and brought it back to everyone else.”

“You STOLE it?” Patton cried. “But that’s totally against why we wanted it in the first place! Fighting evil! Remember?”

“I know. But the alternative worried me more.”

“Well, I’m not really happy about that, sport, but it’s too late to do anything about it now. Maybe they won the lottery in the last fifteen years and got their money back…?”

“Virgil, do you recall the name and location of this place?” Logan asked.

“Can’t say I do. Well–I think it was near Florida. I remember driving for a while during the night. There was a lot of fog….I could sort of tune into it with my powers, so I could sense the surrounding area. Something was near me, like a big, dark cold spot. It might’ve been a shadow, but bigger than one I’ve ever seen.” He shuddered. “I had to get away from it, so I turned off the highway, drove for a while, stopped at a gas station, and...there it was.”

“Well, that’s vague,” Thomas mused.

“Do you think that we’d be able to recreate your path if Thomas were to search for it?”

“Uh….maybe? It’s possible?”

“That’s sufficient enough for me,” Logan declared. “All right, Thomas, the parameters of your vacation are this. You are to find the location and source of this crystal and interrogate the owners of the establishment for information.”

“Information like….”

“Well, whether there’s a way to expedite your learning process. Whether we can get out of this crystal. Perhaps we can find a way for all four of us to assume solid form without damaging you.”

“And this involves a lot of driving…” Thomas said to himself. “So, if this is really important to you guys, it sounds like we’re going on a–”

“ROAD TRIP!” Patton hollered, throwing up his arms and upturning the pan on the stove, which had been steadily burning their dinner to a crisp the entire time. Oil, curry, chicken, and the whole mess slopped onto the stove and promptly exploded in a shower of hot oil.

“...road trip.”

“PATTON!”

***

[erratic-erotica]

When You Dare (Dicks Out For Harambe)

What up, bitches. It’s me (DD) again, hittin’ hard and fast with another one.

Caveat:  I did actually more or less enjoy this one, so it won’t be nearly as scathing as the one for Hard Night: Penis Patrol.

Anyway, without further ado, here comes When You Dare by Lori Foster.

ALTERNATE TITLE: CROUCHING CHEST HAIR, (BARELY) HIDDEN PENIS

So, When You Dare starts out with our hero, Dare McIntosh (aka Biceps McGee) out on an extraction mission in Tijuana to recover his friend’s sister, Alani, who has been kidnapped by human traffickers. Sucks, man.

So he busts into to where this poor girl is being held, casually executing the Expendable Guards, and is like “TADAAA. HERE I AM TO SAVE THE DAY,” which, you know...valid.

A couple of the other girls being held there just sort of…flee into the night. As you do. But besides the girl he’s there to get, there’s another one who is clearly in bad shape. And so Biceps McGee does what any noble hero would do given the circumstances and goes, “Well. Don’t mind if I do, then,” and just fucking…takes her with him?

So after delivering Alani, Biceps McGee is just like, “Shit. What do I do with this woman?”

Woman solves this conundrum by waking up and kicking him straight in the face.

That’s what you do with this woman, my dude. You get kicked in the face.

Anyway, Biceps McGee is not a doucheyacht, so he’s like, “Alright, fair play to you, lady.” He explains he’s a Good Guy and has smuggled her back over the border, and would she like to go to the police, a hospital, or a hotel?

Lady opts for hotel (because shower), and I honestly can’t be all too judgy about that? I’d want to shower, too, after being kidnapped and beaten for nine days.

Lady introduces herself as Molly Alexander (hereafter Self-Effacing Heroine), and she doesn’t want to make a police report just yet, because she is actually a famous writer (no really, Ryan Reynolds is attached for the film adaptation of her book) and can’t believe she was abducted by accident…which means someone in her life is no good asshole.

So let’s meet our suspects:

Self-Effacing Heroine’s ex-fiancé, Adrian: they broke up over her not buying him new rims for his car, I guess.

Daddy Warbucks: Heroine’s rich and snooty father who is just all about appearances, to which heroine and her younger sister have never measured up. He also drove Self-Effacing Heroine’s mom to suicide and then married himself a new, equally obsessed with appearances Stepford Wife.

Readers: APPARENTLY, Heroine did a bad and ended up putting in a plot twist that nobody liked, and now she’s just fucking swimming in death threats! Oops!

“Cool,” I said to myself at this point, “It’s probably the step mom. No need to stray too far from the Evil Stepmother trope.”

After her first shower in like a week and a half, heroine goes, “Hey, dude, you’re like, the only person I can trust right now. Big ask, but could you maybe help me find out who arranged this?”

And Biceps McGee is like, “Sure. Wait. Why did I say sure? I was gonna drop you off somewhere and wash my hands of this mess. Is this what having feelings is like?”

After some nighttime snuggling due to nightmares (also justified), Biceps McGee and Self-Effacing Heroine are off for Kentucky, because that’s where Biceps McGee lives, on his palatial lakeside estate, with his two Labradors that he calls “his girls” and his live-in gay personal assistant-slash-best-friend, Chris.

Heroine has a nice vacay there for a bit, doing some writing and hanging out with dogs, doing her damnedest not to get in the way and to be a good guest. She has another Convenient Nightmare, which justifies another sleepover (just sleeping, hand to god).

Did I mention that Biceps McGee can cook? Because that’s honestly the sexiest part of any hero. It’s nice you got biceps and all but fucking feed me.

Eventually, around page 200 or so, there is finally a by-the-docks snog sesh. Whoooooooop, whooooooooooop. SOUND THE SMUT ALARM. Except, no. Just, like – the fingering whistle. Maybe a kazoo? I’ve got it: the FINGERING HURDY-GURDY.

And Biceps McGee is just like:

Anyway, Biceps McGee has a little tête-à-tête with Self-Effacing Heroine’s father to determine if he’s behind it all, presumably while looming threateningly. Every girl wants to get with a guy who threatens to destroy her father, after all.

Then they book it back to bumfuck, Ohio, where Heroine is from, to do some more pro-level investigating. Self-Effacing Heroine and Biceps McGee have just returned to her apartment (to find it trashed, natch).

But, THEN! Surprise appearance by ex-fiancé, who comes in while macking on some rando. Of course, Biceps McGee and Heroine are all like, “DAFUQ, DUDE.”

Ex-fiancé helpfully explains that, well, he came by to check on Self-Effacing Heroine and maybe try to get back together (???????) and since she had just up and disappeared, he took it upon himself to use her apartment as a shag pad.

Gross. Anyway, after some strange flirtation with Biceps McGee in front of her ex, presumably to evoke jealousy, they toss him and his rando out, and proceed to bang it out. Extra gross, my dudes. Change your sheets, first. Jesus. You don’t know where your ex has been at this point. This is also the point in the plot where Biceps McGee definitely catches feelings like they might as well be an STI.

Shortly thereafter, Self-Effacing Heroine’s sister sneaks in the apartment, too. Clearly, Heroine’s apartment is just the hottest joint in town. Sister has brought her boyfriend, who is ex-FBI, and currently a private detective. How perfectly fucking convenient. Anyway, not much comes of this. Sister is apparently the only person who knew/cared that Self-Effacing Heroine went missing for over a week, and she was just, like, hella worried and shit.

This development is followed by more smut, this time in the bathroom! Guys, that is dangerous. Do not try this at home! You will straight-up kill yourselves, and I will laugh at you. At least they eventually have the good sense to move the party back to the bedroom, with no more inconveniently-timed surprise visitors.

The next day they decide it’s about time to confront Daddy Dearest one more time, because he’s got some sketchy business connections. It’s also about the time that Biceps McGee just kinda casually drops the, “Hey, why don’t you come home with me and we’ll see where this thing goes?” line.

Of course, Self-Effacing Heroine is all like, “HOT DAMN. I mean, I can work from anywhere.”

So it’s off to Daddy’s mansion they go at last, and there they are met by Stepford Wife/Stepmother Kathi (with an i!).

Daddy Dearest rebukes Self-Effacing Heroine for showing up uninvited because he is just so dreadfully ashamed that she got herself kidnapped and shit. Won’t anyone think of his reputation?!

Biceps McGee is like, “Come at me, bro,” because ain’t no one talking down to Baby Girl. Ain’t no one. There’s some more familial bickering, but ultimately they leave Daddy’s house again, because Biceps McGee doesn’t actually think Daddy had anything to do with it, even if he is a piss-poor father.

But Daddy’s got suspicions of his own, which are, shortly thereafter, confirmed. It was Stepford Wife/Stepmom Kathi with an i all along. For those of you playing along at home, the score is DD: 1, Novelists: 0.

Although it is not directly stated in the story, I prefer to imagine Kathi-with-an-i with crazy eyes at this point in the story. She did it all for her husband’s reputation! Self-Effacing Heroine’s books are depraved! What would the neighbors think?! Also, she’s been sleeping with some other dudes, but she did it for love and continuing social position!

But Daddy Dearest is just like, “Get thee hence, hoebag,” and just pawns her off on the police or something, idk. He’ll never be a contender for father of the year, what can I say.

Meanwhile, Biceps McGee and Self-Effacing Heroine have arrived back in Kentucky (but why Kentucky, my dude? You are like, hella rich), reuniting with Chris and the dogs.

But wait. Stepmomfordwife Kathi had one more trick up her sleeve! A bomb or some shit goes off, and it’s chaos all around! Luckily, no one is seriously injured. And Self-Effacing Heroine takes a trip back into the flaming house to retrieve Biceps McGee’s doggo, thereby cementing her place in his heart F O R E V E R.

The bad guys are quickly subdued, because you don’t fuck with Biceps McGee and Company.

We close on “Hey, let’s pick out rings,” because it’s always a great idea to marry someone you’ve known for about a week. Everyone knows trauma bonding is the basis of true love!

All in all, porn with (fairly decent) plot and enjoyable. I give it a 5 out of 6 and a half inches.

Until next time!

[destroyyourbinder]

looking at instagram

There are hazy pictures of children having fun in spring-green new grass, the sun or maybe the filter sparkling. A photo of a man laughing, relaxed, he's wearing a soft cotton shirt, and it's not wrinkled. Dynamic black and white photos of people my acquaintance knows, a coworker, herself, their skin texture looks like granite, like muslin, like acrylic sculpting medium, like something under lights that's very "Interesting," to men in glasses holding wine and pontificating like bowerbirds strutting over little pebbles and bits of fur.

I'm angry. I look like dough, like a laundry pile at the end of a week, maybe two. I'm custard piled on itself, dingy men's shorts pulled up way too high over the bottom dollop. Nobody's captivated by my pock marks or my uneven peach fuzz. I look like who my mom was afraid I was going to be, except I'm not even that exciting, I'm a monster made of felt cut out by shaky kindergarten hands and unraveling tape. Dandruff gets under my fingers when I scratch my head. There's no social media where I can post the sensation of my stomach gurgling after I eat fistfuls of mozzarella from the fridge, and nobody would Like it anyway. When I shave my head there is no confident, bold, sharp picture I can take, tattooed and muscular arm curved up over my new haircut to casually hold the phone. There's just tiny bits of hair in the bathroom rug and yellow light that makes my face look puffier than I thought it was.

I feel the bile rise in my throat. So-and-so bought a house, my sister bought a house, friend after friend after friend is having a dinner party, moving to California, getting married at a place with "Estate" in the name. There's pictures, lots of pictures, of breezy nights and big smiles, a colorful world of delight and ease, everything I wanted from life incarnated in the bodies of straight people and lesbians prettier and happier than me. I pull a piece of cat hair out of my teeth and listen to the neighbors shouting at each other on the street, and I imagine what it would be like if my body didn't ache, didn't feel like a jumble of nonsense the consistency of dogshit and balsa wood. My apartment smells like mold. I make nine-sixty-something an hour after taxes. I don't know how to use Instagram because at twenty-whatever I've managed to become both old and out of touch, but I do know how to let Instagram make me feel bad.

In the photo, a guy I know looks rugged, cheeky, like a man with a story to tell but who might pull a quarter out from behind your ear instead. In reality, he's an old gay guy who both lurches and flops about at the same time, his too-large T-shirts hanging off his hunched shoulders. When he's feeling sprightly, he does a little ungainly but joyful Charleston, a grin on his face goofier than his little kicks, which show off the dirty bottoms of his fluorescent Converse shoes. I see him a lot in the back office at work or the break room, which are dim and yellow, making his ruddy face and greying stubble an undifferentiated jowly mass. But this guy also has lots of pictures of his own, that he shows me sometimes, of himself when young, with friends all dressed up in alternative 80s gear, all eyeliner and teased white hair. He smiles when he flips through the pictures. I don't know what he is remembering. I see a lot of cool people I've never met; he tells me this picture was even used in an ad for a local fashion hotspot back in the day. Then, swiping up and down with his fingers, still smiling but using a tone of voice that's a particularly terrifying variety of cheerful sarcasm, he tells me most of the people in these pictures are dead.

He knows I know why.

When I scroll through that woman's Instagram I am angry, maybe, because there's nobody to see me, nobody to remember what I did. The endless dullness that characterizes my days is not something I myself remember; I have the barest sense at all, even, that it is too dull for memory. There is something particularly disgusting to me that this is how most women have lived their lives, a parade of dishes and diapers, the inside of their heads taken up by minutiae about the state of the carpet and lists of birthdays. I've fallen headfirst into it, softly, like a particularly cushy pie on a grandmother's windowsill or the pillowy bosom of a schoolmarm. As a child I was particularly offended I was not noticed for who I was, or who I thought myself to be, at least, and what my mom did manage to notice was a nitpicking ritual of continual impropriety; what was on the floor but shouldn't be, what spot I missed on the counter with a sponge, which hairs were out of place and what crumbs were in the corners of my lips, what smile wasn't on my face and when. In retrospect I don't know if I was more offended on my behalf or hers, and if I was a selfish little shit about it whether I was more enraged by the idea that I was lost under her omnipresent fussing or that my proper development into a woman involved filling my head with such an eye.

I used to scream at her that I would not become like her, and I guess I didn't. I'm gay, for one, and live in a city, full of the types of people she imagines when she neurotically checks and rechecks the locks on her doors. I don't have children, a husband, a credit card, a mortgage, but I do have what I never wanted from the legacy of women, which is enormous spans of time where I fiddle with a sponge, a spoon, tiny meaningless papers, buttons on a cash register. As a child-- and embarrassingly, as an adult ill-prepared for reality-- I screamed because I insisted by the declaration of my lungs that my life would be different, it would be about intensity, perceptiveness, truth, integrity, adventures, journeys, big huge concepts that would bowl me over and spill out of me like a living mystic channeling forces of the universe. I used to read for hours and hours as a child, usually epic fantasy or science fiction I probably shouldn't have been allowed to put into my prepubescent brain; sometimes I used to hang upside down off the couch and read upside down just for the hell of it, to shake my world up a bit. I moved onto philosophy and hours of mopey music through headphones in the dark when I got older. I was delusional about what my life would be like, about what life would make me into. The big huge concept that would end up bowling me over was mediocrity, mundaneness, the stuff men on Reddit call women "vapid" for.

Hannah Arendt was a really smart woman, the kind of woman I thought I might be someday. She said a whole lot of shit that was really deep, and when I was still chasing the highs of thinking that there were neat-o discoveries to be made in this world that made you Somebody to see them, I thought that "the banality of evil" was the most profound thing I ever heard. When I encountered it for real it wasn't profound, just banal indeed. Evil is soul-sucking in a special fucking way, it sucks the life out of you in the way that alcohol shuts off first the part of your brain that lets you know you're drunk. Something's gone and you're all screwed up about it but you're gone in a way that won't let you know what left, there's just rage disguised as irritability and crud on the counter and a bus that doesn't show up. Sometimes you get to look right into the sucking hole, a yawning abyss of multi-generational societal depravity and institutional apathy, when you're sitting next to a homeless woman on a bench downtown with legs so swollen she couldn't go anywhere even if she had someplace to go. I gave her five dollars on most days of my commute because I hoped at least she could eat something, and she deserved the dignity of being seen by somebody, but honestly she needed somewhere to sleep and a bunch of somebodies to do something about her health. A lot of fucking evil had to happen to a lot of people for buildings full of suits to exist on the same block as this lady. A lot of fucking evil had to happen for people to accept this as normal.

What evil has to happen for women to accept their lot, whether it's accepting that the cumulative buzz of your life-inspiration be directed towards holding up a glass in a particularly enrapturing photo on Instagram, or whether it's accepting that you're gonna have to spend another night on the bench? I cry sometimes knowing that no one will remember my mother; all she will leave behind is a gravestone next to a man's and a legacy of psychological scars on her daughters, who nobody will bother to remember either. My mother's life is worth a book or two, but I couldn't get it out of her even if I tried. I don't think my mom even knows she has a story, just petty dramas she tries to escalate into a validation that she hasn't disappeared yet because she can hurt somebody. I don't know the homeless lady's story or how she ended up begging on a bench downtown each day. I hope with all my heart she finds a place to live out her life, a little home where she can use a scooter and have enough to eat, where five dollars isn't the difference between confirmation of the world's cruelty and God's presence. She showed me a video once on her phone of a preacher that she followed, a woman who she said she saw at a big church event in the South; she could go places once, and I don't know how she ended up so she couldn't go anywhere anymore. Maybe she doesn't know-- maybe when you can't go anywhere anymore the point is that you don't think you got there and you don't think you're getting out, you're just there right now, but also always were and somehow forever will be. Maybe you're watching buses go by all damn day and feeling your tongue go numb from saying "spare a dollar", or maybe your finger's getting red from wiping the snot under your kid's nose, time passing only when the tissues are gone. They don't take shots of this shit. There's no filter for "life's over, but not yet."

I wish what I felt could become great art, maybe even just shitty art, that it could mean something, that I was something; dudes have generations of scholarship-worship trailing behind them because they wrote paeans to being existentially bored, because they discovered what it's like to look at a damn soup can and slapped it in a museum. Maybe I'm just jealous, but, you know, I used to stock groceries, and I spent a lot of my time looking at damn soup cans. I think I now know why Val shot him.

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

♕ Cupfiction- The game of redemption- Second Part~ ♕

{ It's been a while since I've updated the first chapter. I wrote the first chapter of this fanfiction on November 25th 2017, last year and then I abandoned this story because I had no effort, and I didn't feel encouraged. So many months have passed and now I'm regretting it, so I want to try to keep on writing this story and I hope it can truly interest someone. Actually, it's also because of my mental lazyness I stopped it despite the fact I had the story in my mind and I know everything about it but I didn't find the spirit.

I hope I’ll be able to continue -- }

>>> FIRST CHAPTER <<<

Pairing: King Dice x Angel! Female! Reader

Rating: SFW (there will be harsh content in the future) and ANGST. 

⚜ DREAM ⚜

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. An evil soul producing holy witness Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

―  William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice.

No one was able to distinguee dream from reality.

Dreams were just like an alternative reality where people were catapulted without their awareness. Someone was even able to tame dreams, those dreams that were called “lucid dreams”. There, the dreamers could do what they wanted. They could be who they wanted to be without rules or inhibitions because it was their realm. They were God in their dreams.

The reality Beatrice lived last night was so similar to a dream –or she should have said “similar to a nightmare” because it was terrible. She could still perceive the disgusting smell of smoke inside her nostrils. The sinister shadows that danced in the obscurity were the same she found in her own home because even her mind was tricking her and she saw mysterious figures as if someone was hunting her. This was only her imagination. The symptoms of her trauma.

It could be a dream or maybe not. It was still terrible and surreal. As surreal as a surrealist painting. As if she was inside a Salvador Dali’s picture and everything around her was enigmatic and mysterious. Creatures that did not belong to this earth chased after her: they wanted to feed themselves with her succulent flesh, sucking her blood. Their fangs were sharp and craved for her meat. She found herself in the Devil’s home, lost and scared without God, nobody could help her and now she was wondering if all of this was only a terrible nightmare or a cruel and merciless reality. Then, she remembered there was something even worse than this. The bet. That atrocious bet she did with him. A game of madness and immorality. She was forced to accept to save her protégé’s soul. If she wouldn’t have been such an irresponsible angel this would have never happened. Hers the blame. Hers the shame. The price she had to pay would have been very high if she would have lost his game. She would have lost her protégé and her own soul, too. She would have never gained her wings because this was another price. She was an angel without wings. Only three soul separated her from the realisation of her dream. Only three soul to redeem and then she would have been a real angel, gaining the respect she deserved.

Impossible was having a restful sleep after the atrocity she saw. She could not think to have been so stupid and naïve. Her pride blacked out her mind. Only now, she was realizing how she was weak and reckless for trusting the words of that scoundrel.  

The first thought that crossed her mind was calling her friend Markus who seemed having the solution at every problem. She grabbed her phone, composing his number. The phone rang three time but nobody answered her call. It seemed the phone line was disturbed and he only things she heard were feeble and disturbing buzzing but she did not understand where they come from.

Maybe it was only an interference and her mind was tricking her.

 “Help me…”

 Someone said. A voice in her head, maybe, or maybe it came from the phone but it was not his friend Markus, it was an unnatural voice, she could not identify the owner of it but it was almost a whisper and it was asking for help. Her help.

The girl threw the phone, she was troubled by the event just happened.

Subsequently, the voice returned to speak, but this time it was not only in her head but even in the air she was breathing.

 "Jamie Owen ..."

 The same voice pronounced a name unknown to her until the phrases it said became confused and overlapped each other. She covered her ears with her hands, frightened and dazed, tried to ignore that voice but it became louder until those words echoed in her brain. They were as mysterious and supernatural as the darkness of the human soul. In fact, just from the human soul they came because these were the screams of a desperate soul.

The realm of souls was an unconscious world that only the angels like her were able to perceive since it was banned to every other living being. Even demons could perceive it even if demons usually preferred to infect souls with their poisons and the aim of angels was to clean them up.

One of her powers was to feel and understand souls, she could listen to their beats and apprehend their conditions, if they suffered or were satisfied with life.

At times, souls, the spirit of a person, came into conflict with the mind and rationality and therefore Beatrice's task was to help people find the right path and learn how to respect their own life and the world around them.

The soul that was screaming belonged to a boy, he was unaware of the pain that his soul felt and Beatrice was able to perceive his soul sufferance, anxieties and insecurities. The owner of this soul was a boy who had to be saved because he was about to commit one of the most atrocious sins in the world.

She stood up, looking around, she tried to balance despite the pictures of violence that appeared in her brain. She saw death. The unfortunate destiny of that boy and she had to prevent this ominous omen from happening. She had to help him find the right path and serenity.

This moment of trance lasted a few minutes, when the phone rang and the girl jumped from the fright. Her friend Markus was calling her and he was worried that something had happened to her and he even imagined she had some other unpleasant encounters. Actually, she had had an encounter, even if it could not be defined as such, because it was a vision. A request for help.

She needed to talk to him, so she grabbed the phone and she answered with the voice of a person who had already seen a ghost.

"Markus. Thank God, you called me!” The girl shouted, making the friend jump on the other side of the phone.

"Oh, god, Bea! From your screams, I wouldn’t say you're okay!” He said, his voice was confused but amused even if it was not the right time to joke but he was curious to hear Beatrice's explanations.

"Please listen to me. Something absurd happened ... Well, relatively absurd but I am astonished!” She said unable to explain herself.

"I see. Take a deep breath, calm down, and tell me. but let's keep it quiet" Markus said trying to instil courage and even his tone of voice became more serious and he realized that it was a delicate and important matter for Beatrice.

She closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling, until the pure air of night filled her lungs and she regained her lost clarity.

"Ok, I'm calm. One thing happened before you called me. It is not the first time that such a thing happens but this time it’s different. The feeling was intensified and, at first, I did not realize that a tormented soul was trying to contact with me.” She explained, without ever taking a breath as if she were afraid of losing the train of her own thoughts.

"Has a soul contacted you? For real?" He said incredulously, he did not understand what she meant because her explanation was too vague.

"I had a vision, even though I did not see anything, it was more a sound experience," she clarified.

"Ah, I see ... What did you hear?" He asked.

"The voice of a boy, he asked for help. Then a name, Jamie Owner, and I think he's the owner of that dark soul.” The only memory of that experience made her blood run cold in her veins.

"Ah, I understand ... But why did it happen? Why did he contact you?” He asked and he was not yet aware of the bet she had made with Dice the day before and explaining this fact, and it was also very relevant and the origin of all her troubles, would have been quite complicated. She winced.

"Ah, it's a long story ... My head hurts..." she said, massaging her painful head.

"Are you hiding me something? I cannot help you if you don’t explain the entire story.” He said sternly but it was late at night and maybe it was better for the two of them to postpone the matter and talk about it the next morning in front of a delicious cup of coffee.

So the two friends said goodbye and went back to sleep, even if Beatrice’s night has not been peaceful, because a thousand questions were tormenting her young existence and she knew that this was only the first of many other troubles.

 .

.

.

 “You have to listen the word of God!”

“I always do, dad…”

 This conversation kept running through his mind, but they were the words that shaped his young life. He did not know anything else but those words, and he always tried to act in the pious and right way not to disappoint his family.

 “Look at him! Look how he’s ridiculous! Look how hug his stupid Bible” a kid apparently bigger than him said, laughing at him.

“It’s his teddy bear, he never gets separated from it!” another kid told, pushing him and then the huge kid took his Bible from the hands of his owner.

“Hey, give it to me!” the poor boy robbed moaned, trying to take his precious book back but it was impossible because he was pushed away and beat by the other children.

“Is this so precious for you? Why don’t you call Jesus to help you?” said the big kid.

“He’s got more important things to do, he’s busy!”, he answered with bitterness in his voice and maybe even a hint of naivety.

“Busy? Do you want to know the truth? He doesn’t exist. He’s a mere fantasy!” the arrogant guy said, laughing sadistically.

“No, lies! Yours are lies I don’t wanna hear!” he, offended, raised his voice and this made the bullies angrier and then the strongest bully hit him with his own Bible until the poor boy fell to the cold ground.

“That’s what my father says, and he’s always right. You’re a miserable rat, know your place, Jamie, on the bottom with rats and worms…” and the bully launched the Bible on Jami’s feet and this last could not do anything than crying.

“Blasphemy… That’s only a bunch of blasphemy, they’re not right. One day, they’ll burn in hell, I guess…” Jamie said, drying his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and even this day, he did not show up at school.

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @harknesskitty. Writing this Imagine was some kind of déjà-vu and I just don’t know why… :o well, enjoy reading, everyone! ♥

Words: 1870 Warnings: vampire!Reader, theft, implied smut

It was ridiculous, really. A blood-sucking vampire freezing to death out in the cold, curled up behind a dirty trash can to hide from the merciless snow. Without nutrition—be it a squirrel or even a rat—you were sure you would be dying tonight.

There were crueler ways to snuff it, though. A wooden stick through your heart, a raging fire licking at your skin or a sharp blade separating your head from your neck… if this was the peaceful alternative, you would be grateful.

Ironically, it was Christmas Eve too. The trash cans you were hiding behind belonged to an old church and if you listened closely, you could hear a choir singing Christmas carols. Surely inside, it was warmer. Inside, they’d have hot tea and warmed each other. You hadn’t stepped foot in a church for decades.

Obviously, you didn’t fear to go up in smoke if you did but somehow, it didn’t feel right to pray and ask for forgiveness and a blessing. You killed people to ensure your own survival, if this wasn’t selfish, you didn’t know what was.

So, you had isolated yourself from society, living as a poor and homeless nomad and never staying in one place for too long. It was a bad idea to get attached to humans—people you’d either suck dry in a rage or a fit sooner or later or that you’d watch die from old age while you remained the same.

Grief and loneliness were among the most awful feelings as an immortal being, knowing it would never truly stop and still, centuries ago, you had chosen this fate over certain death. It had to be worth something and maybe tonight was the night to finally say goodbye to the planet.

The sound of metal clattering to the frozen ground had you flinch, your senses wide awake with a start. If it was moving, it was food.

Gathering the last of your strength, you used your supernatural speed to rush to the place the sound had come from. A back alley abutting to the local bank stretched before you, causing you to roll your eyes. Another clumsy and ruthless burglar. Those were your favourite. Well, at least you’d do the world some good on this merry day.

“Bloody shit,” he hissed quietly, cowering in the snow to collect the coins he had dropped. You shivered, crossing your arms and stepping forward. It was a man. Broad shoulders, dressed oddly, a battered coat covering most of his form. Hm… he was quite handsome for a criminal.

“Robbing the bank, are we?”

“Who are yah? A cop?” Alarmed, the stranger reached for a knife, pointing it at you… no, not a knife… a… a boomerang? You almost giggled upon seeing the strange weapon, causing him to fling the metal piece right at you. You instantly docked down to prevent the blade from slicing off your head and then, when you sensed it returning to him, you used your powers to do a backflip and dodge once more.

“That wasn’t very nice.” You loved playing with your prey. Letting them believe they had power, only to mercilessly strip it from them in the end, crushing their hope like sand under your soles. “And no. I’m not a cop. Still, I’ll be the last thing you’ll see tonight. Or… ever.”

You didn’t hide your malicious giggle this time, however, stopped dead in your tracks when the stranger took another step forward and dived into the dim light of the back alley. He really was handsome. Dark hair, a dark beard, blue eyes and full lips… the urge to bite them and draw a little blood was tingling in your frozen limbs, persistent even.

“I’m not in the mood fah games, Sheila. An’ I don’t share me prey. So fuck off unless yuh’re here tah offer me a free blowjob.”

“Pretty rude, are we? Neither am I. See, I am what humans refer to as a vampire. A blood-sucking monster… killing you slowly and painfully.” you paused, adding a dramatic effect. They usually didn’t believe you until your eyes turned red and your sharp fangs pushed against your lower lip demandingly, uncontrollable hunger taking over. “You seem like the perfect victim, wouldn’t you agree with me?”

The stranger silenced, pursing his lips. “Me? Why, cos’ I robbed a bloody bank?”

“On Christmas Eve,” you added dryly. “Boo, that’s evil.”

“I’m evil? Yah just told me yah were gonnah drink me up like some cheap beer.”

You tilted your head once more. He was good. HeHe was good. “Yeah okay, I give you that.”

“C’mon, luv, there’s worse people out there.”

It was then you realised. “Wait, you actually believe me?” The question had left your lips before you could properly think it through. You were supposed to be intimidating, not curious and sweet like a little school girl. Damn it.

“I’ve seen a lottah supernatural stuff in the last couple o’ months, luv, a vampire ain’t as scary as yah might think.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m hungry.” You threatened with a low voice, sensing how your eyes changed their colour.

“Let’s… not do anythin’ we’ll regret. We could help each other out.” He offered, smiling cheekily as he did.

Curious, you raised an eyebrow. Help each other? If it didn’t involve his blood, you doubted it and yet, something inside you had you halt and consider him. An instinct, perhaps?

“Me apartment fah the night ain’t that far away. It’s warm, it’s cosy… yah’ll like it. Come with me an’ spend the night. We could warm each othah.” He winked.

A warm apartment… a bed… maybe he even stored some raw meat in the fridge. Could you trust him? Granted, he didn’t want to be eaten—you had heard people say the strangest things before they died in your arms from savage blood loss.

Still, you decided to play it cool. “Wow, what’s that, some touching Christmas charity?”

“I bloody hate Christmas.”

You smiled. “Me too,”

Well, maybe his offer wasn’t so bad.

“See?” His grin widened.

He was… different from the other criminals you had sucked dry. This man, he was… charming and mischievous, almost playful. You hated to admit it but you liked his cheeky attitude… and especially his Australian accent.

“Okay, so, I come home with you and in return, what? I don’t eat you?”

“I’d be happy if yah didn’t, luv.” He replied.

“Fine. We have a deal.”

“Yuh’re gonnah tell me yah name?”

Another smile, this time a little more sincere. “Call me (Y/N).”

“Nice tah meet yah, (Y/N). The name’s Captain Boomerang.”

“Wait, so you really are the Captain Boomerang who fought alongside Harley Quinn and those other freaks in Gotham?”

Boomer hadn’t promised you too much. His apartment was heated and comfortable, the fridge full of barbecue meat and beer. He was a stereotypical Aussie and it only intrigued you all the more. After a couple of cans, you’d both stripped yourselves from any restraint. You had told him about your former life, the people you had killed and the life you lived now. And he listened. Unlike any other man you had ever met, he actually listened to what you had to say—it’s been so long since you had someone to talk and someone to confide in. It was obvious to you he knew what it felt like to be alone, too… most likely the reason for his openness and the longer he told you stories about his own adventures, the more you forced yourself to hold back and not get attached.

You would leave him again tomorrow. There was no need to develop feelings for this man, no friendly and definitely no romantic ones.

“The one an’ only, luv. Took me quite a while tah get away from Waller but here I am.”

“Here you are, saving Christmas Eve.” Giggling, you cuddled into him, almost lying on top of him on the dusty mattress on the ground. It was a provisory shelter, the people who had lived here had moved out only weeks ago and left the mattress back. Now, it came in handy.

Sighing, your buried your face in his neck and enjoyed the sensation of his warm skin against your cheek, for once not to kill but to revel in the oddly snug feeling spreading in your whole body and warming you from the inside out. You hadn’t been this content in years. You had… almost forgotten what it felt like to share comfort, especially when he had wrapped his muscly arms around you to touch your bare arms. He was like a heater himself, listening to his even heartbeat relaxing and calming.

“Reckon we did each othah a favour, huh?” Boomerang chuckled darkly. His chest vibrated under your palm when he did, sending a pleasant shiver up and down your spine. It was short moments like this in which the urge to bite returned. Not to kill or simply still your hunger but to share an intimate gesture, create something that would connect you both forever.

“Where’re yah gonnah go then? Tomorrow, I mean.”

Breathing out audibly, you shrugged. You hadn’t thought about that yet. “I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to see California. Besides, it’s warm there.”

“Yah take the money with yah when yah leave, alright?”

Tilting his head to the rucksack full of coins and banknotes in the corner opposite the dimly lit room, his expression turned thoughtful.

Your heart skipped a beat. Lifting your head slowly to look him in the eye, you opened your mouth in an almost shocked manner. This wasn’t what criminals normally acted at all. This man… “Why would I do that?”

“’Cos yah need it more than me, apparently. I’ll rob anothah bank tomorrow an’ I’ll be rich. Go have it. Say it’s a Christmas present.”

“And all of that so I don’t bite you?” You teased, pressing yourself even closer to his body. Don’t get attached, don’t get attached… your mantra was useless. You already were getting attached.

Boomer grinned. “I’m startin’ tah think that wouldn’t be so bad, after all.” Something inside you stirred when you straddled him, your eyes changing their colour in joyful anticipation. “As long as yah don’t kill me,” He winked when you bit your lower lip, running your fingers all over his body.

Why leave tomorrow? Why not stay with him for a while? The chemistry between you was tangible, buzzing like electrical energy.

“So I reckon what I’m sayin’ is, if yah take yah clothes off, feel free tah taste.” The glistening in his blue eyes resembled raw lust and desire, adding to your own arousal and fuelling your own hunger.

You grinned to yourself when you pulled your shirt off, revealing your breasts to him.

“I can live with that.” And then, you gently pressed your lips against his, kissing him in joyful anticipation of what was to come.

“I’ve never shagged a vampire.” He growled hoarsely, burying his hands in your dirty jeans.

You would definitely stay for a while longer.

“You’ll never forget the experience.” You promised.

Maybe getting attached wasn’t so bad after all. At least for this very moment.

[hotelconcierge]

THE FALSE NEGATIVES

In The Company Of Men (1997) opens in an airport where two middle management guys have just arrived: a bespectacled seborrheic named Howard, and an ex-jock good ol’ boy named...Chad.

Howard walks out of the bathroom. He’s been hit, by a woman, just for asking the time—like, Mountain or Central. “Wait, wait. You're telling me about some sort of unprovoked assault here?” Chad says, “Did she give you the time at least?” 

Howard doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even seem to recognize it as a joke. And therein lies the problem, for him and everyone else.

The two men are in town a few weeks to work at a branch office. They exchange complaints. This place blows. The job sucks. Coworkers are vultures. Can’t trust anyone. Howard just got dumped by his fiancée. Chad says he just got dumped too.

CHAD: I'm standing there, no note...not a “thanks for four years of a roof over my bleached-blonde head”...nothing. You know? And it comes to me...the truth. I do not give a shit, not about anybody. A family member, a job, none of it. I couldn't care less.

HOWARD: Geez.

CHAD: Don't get me wrong. We're pals.

HOWARD: Same college.

CHAD: Exactly, and that means something. But these other folks...You know, jump on while the going's good? No, that will not do.

“Circle the date on this one, big guy,” Chad says, “We keep playing along with this 'pick up the check,' 'can't a girl change her mind' crap...and we can't even tell a joke in the workplace? There's going to be hell to pay down the line, no doubt about it.”

They move to the hotel bar.

CHAD: I don't want to shock you. It's just a thought. It's the same crap we played in school, only better, because we get a payback on this messy relationship shit we're dealing with.

HOWARD: No, right, it's funny, it is. it's just...way out there.

CHAD: I think it would be refreshing, I really do...and very therapeutic coming off the women we just have. 

HOWARD: Well, just for instance, who would it be?

CHAD: No idea. But she’s out there, I know it. Just waiting for us to find her.

Let’s start here.

They say guilt is omniscient; that doesn’t mean you can’t throw sand in its eyes. Unlike shame, guilt is universal, at some level everyone knows that violating the NAP makes you a dick. But suppose you like, really want to. How do you get from Crime and Punishment to Crimes and Misdemeanors?

The above scene is demonstrative. First, replace the human object with an idea. Hurting an innocent woman is obviously evil—plus, why would you do that? Women are soft, thoughtful, have nice voices, etc. But hurting “women” in general? “Women,” who smile right past you and say “that’s so funny!” instead of laughing and sing along to vapid breakup songs like they could ever know the pain of a sensitive incel? God knows “they” want to hurt “men.”

Second, remove the subject: you aren’t going to do anything. A passive process, inevitable given the laws of thermodynamics, is going to occur. You remember that one scene in Glengarry Glen Ross? “Somebody should stand up and strike back. Somebody should do something to them.” Deus vult.

But that explanation doesn’t do justice to Chad’s cunning. He alternates between 1) “big guy”-ing Howard re: office politics and romantic troubles, and 2) brutal, frequent, almost compulsive misogyny. These are twin strategies in the same campaign. When Chad says, “some corn-fed bitch who'd mess her pants if you sharpen a pencil for her,” Howard gives a single snort of laughter. I know that one. It’s a social laugh, slave morality coming straight from the spinal cord, brain playing catch-up, “oh, it’s funny because it was a joke.” Like all the nice construction workers asking ladies to smile, Chad wants to be a friend. It would be rude not to laugh at the joke of a friend. But when your ego endorses a perspective your superego rejects, you build up a debt of guilt. The heavier your debt, the more you have to borrow from the abstraction of ideal over real. The more you suspend judgment, the more you have to rely on the judgment of others. The more crimes you share with an accomplice, the deeper you enmesh yourself in conspiracy. So a few hours later and a little drunk:

HOWARD: What'd she say? 

CHAD: "I don't trust anything that bleeds for a week and doesn't die."

(Both laugh)

CHAD: So you in?

HOWARD: Aw, shit man...yeah, I’m in.

CHAD: Alright, let’s do it. Let’s hurt somebody.

Somebody shows up the next day.

The object is a deaf woman named Christine. Reads lips, self-conscious about this so wears headphones so coworkers will have to attract her attention. A copy-editor or something, 90 words per minute. Brunette and pale, short hair, slender neck, narrow frame, Améliesexual, Forever 21.

When a male coworker informs Chad of her disability, Chad does an imitation “dolphin voice” and gets a big laugh. Then he goes and introduces himself.

CHAD: You're new here, aren't you? Don't be embarrassed. We're all new sometime, right? (Pause) That's a lovely blouse.

“A, E, I, O, U and sometimes Y is like the Holy Grail to this poor wretch,” Chad tells Howard. Howard, sitting down to urinate, gives an ambiguous response. Chad: “You're not pussing out on this, are you, Howie?”

HOWARD: All I mean is, I think everything's a business, whatever you go into. Your typing there or my opportunity directing this project. Doesn't matter. Every walk of life's an industry...from child care right on up.

HOWARD: So, on a personal level, that's what I'm doing here. I was walking by, saw you, figured, "What the hell," you know? You probably have a boyfriend, but you gotta take your chance, right? And who knows? It might turn out to be mutually advantageous. So, that's really just a long-winded way of saying...I'd like to go out sometime. Maybe get a drink? My name's Howard, by the way. I'm free this weekend.

Act III shows the two Lotharios in parallel. Howard’s dating sim begins with a motorized tour cart ride at the zoo. Howard arrives late, blames this on having to “ream out” some employees, has to define “ream,” clarifies that, no, you don’t have to feel bad for them, like, it was no big deal. Then he backtracks and admits he was lying—none of that happened, he ran back to the hotel to change his shirt. “I get so used to saying what I think people want to hear...I forget they might just want the truth sometimes,” Howard says. “It’s all right,” Christine says, “Just remember: I can't hear you when you're lying.”

Cut to:

CHAD: I have to face this. My job ends here in a few weeks, and...I want you to know that whatever you do is all right with me. I don't care about your dating other guys...and if we're apart for a while or...

CHAD: Well, I just want you to know that, whatever happens, I trust you. Okay? Oh, boy, this is really hard. I like you. There, I said it. It's out. I'll eat better now. It's true. I look at you, and I see...good, nice, kind. I am very happy with you, and I want our relationship—you feel this could be a relationship, right? I want to nurture it and just see us blossom.

Christine then proceeds to eyelash flutter like Chad said he cried listening to Carrie & Lowell. We have the power of camera angles, but even without them—this is so, so, so obviously bullshit, right? Like a Markov chatbot trying to simulate “boyfriend”? But hold up. Under oath: can you point out the lie?

Chad’s branch office job does end in a few weeks. He really does see Christine as good/nice/kind, trusts her, doesn’t care if she dates other guys, wants the relationship to blossom (at least in the short term). Contrast with Howard’s “ream out” anecdote, which, objectively: Fake News, Not An Argument, Myth Busted. And yet if Howard hadn’t confessed the plot would have moved on without a missed beat—to you, the viewer, it rings exaggerated, but not intuitively false. 

And you’d be right, because truth cannot be extracted from individual words. Here’s the 2x2 for all y’all Ribbonfarmers: factual-truth = math; factual-lie = lie of omission; counterfactual-truth = metaphor; counterfactual-lie = I’ve got a bridge to sell you. I’m not pulling a po-mo fast one. Objective truth is great, it gave us Youtube and stuff. But words are imprecise no matter how many footnotes: since they compress preverbal desire, they always contain a lie of omission. And metaphors, though annotated with “citation needed, does not actually look like a summer’s day,” sometimes reveal crucial and unspeakable truths about the algorithm that creates them.

Point: lies cannot be proved or disproved by geometry. Counterpoint: still, being lied to is a distinct subjective experience. Example: when a minor fall to major lift makes you spit rage, it’s never because the song is particularly bad, no one actually enjoys math rock but no one gets mad at it either. The anger is instead a response to perceived manipulation. People get mad at rap/country/Bieber because these genres lean heavily on identity; the artist is, from the first guitar twang/phat beat/“baby,” trying to convince you of something about him/her/yourself. “Well, doesn’t everyone do that?” Extremely duh, but note that if you accept the artist’s claim as true or false then the nausea doesn’t occur. You can’t be manipulated if you’ve made up your mind, a sufficiently bad lie stops being one, see also, camp.

That’s the horror of the middle-place: if you just let yourself slide, if you just stopped being you, you would like it. Times Square neon makes me vomit blood but Casablanca is charming despite the same level of weapons-grade ideology. The former might persuade me to drink Suntory, the latter has zero chance of getting me to enter World War II. The propaganda of the past—the art of the past—will always be better than that of the present, not just because of selection bias but because it doesn’t feel manipulative, and it doesn’t feel manipulative because it’s not talking to you.

Ergo: we feel lied to = when we can tell + that we are being told + what we want to hear. And this is why Howard’s anecdote doesn’t feel like a lie: it wasn’t. Sure, the words were bullshit, and maybe he fooled Christine, but what he communicated to you—“I want to be seen as a man despite my multiple and obvious failings”—was 100% genuine.

Why can’t Howard tell a fib? One possibility is that he learned about girls from hentai and Roosh V and so thinks that women are attracted to toughness rather than the conquest of toughness. But more likely is that he doesn’t want to: he’s more interested in having Christine see him a certain way than in giving the Good End answers. So Howard, like you, tries to work Million Dollar Extreme references into his Tinder convos, which makes him a narcissist and a tool but not a liar. Proof of the pudding is that it doesn’t work.

Contra Chad: how come it’s so obvious that he’s lying? But of course: the words weren’t meant for you. Chad has self, not self-image, and so no compunctions about roleplaying to get what he wants. For us, his dialogue falls in an uncanny valley. But if you’re the target audience...

“Did she give you the time at least?” Howard never laughs at Chad’s deadpan because it’s too on the nose, it’s exactly what a friend should say, fact check = TRUE, bleep bloop. Howard social-laughs at Chad’s misogyny because it’s so absurd, he must be joking, fact check = FALSE, bzzzt. Christine makes the same mistake: Chad speaks the language of romance, she agrees to see him as such, and she stops asking questions. They outsource their superego to the etiquette of conversation, and who can blame them, their fantasies are coming true. Only you have the outside view, or so it seems: perfect etiquette masking irony, irony masking anger, anger masking unspeakable sociopathy: that even the anger is fake. But if you see that, then he was talking to you, that was the whole point, to give a winking apology to a fellow conspirator—“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

And therein lies the problem, for you and everyone else.

In The Company of Men does not have a happy ending.

Chad sleeps with Christine. (“God, I am just so taken with you. I just...”) Howard sees them at lunch together and gets worried. He pulls some work levers to get Chad out of town, refurbishes his ex-fiancee’s ring, and invites her to dinner.

HOWARD: Maybe this isn't the perfect time...but I care about you, Christine. I want you to know I like you a lot. I need—I just don't want to lose you.

Christine cuts him off. She’s made a horrible mistake by letting things get this far: she’s in love with Chad.

CHRISTINE: It’s all my fault...You both should have known about this...When you don't date for a while...you wonder...if you're attractive...or interesting to someone. You let things get out of hand first chance you get. That's what I did.

Pause.

HOWARD: We did know.

“Chad? He doesn't like you. He loathes you. He detests you and your pathetic retard voice. That's what he calls it. Christine, you bought that shit?” 

Christine freaks out and screams that’s not true, stop it, but Howard keeps going, spilling the beans about the game, apologizing and begging:

HOWARD: Can't you see I'm the good guy? I'm the good person here. I can't alter what we've done, and I'm a fuck...and a bastard and everything else on your list, but I'm here. I'm here, and I'm telling you...I love you.

He brings out the ring.

HOWARD: It's not a game to me anymore. Take it.

Christine doesn’t, and Howard promptly explodes that she’s “fucking handicapped,” “you think you can choose, men falling at your feet?” and so on.

The standard take on this type of (very common) story is that even though [beta male] loved [manic pixie] more than [Chad], the beta male’s complaisance to the patriarchy makes him “just as bad.” Fair enough, consequentialism ftw, but it’s suspicious that the narrator of these tales is often the beta male protagonist himself. No one self-flagellates unless they get off on it, and the above take hides an assumption: that (e.g.) Howard really was in love with Christine.

Was he? There’s no doubt he had some of the relevant chemicals floating around. Yet it’s very possible for abusers to love their victims and cheaters to love their cuckolded spouses. It’s very possible to love each and every other member of the orgy. Hell, I know some meditators who can connect with the astral rhythms of life itself—and they aren’t bullshitting, they really feel it. But drugs are cheap. What does your oxytocin rush mean for anyone besides you?

I’ll tell you why Howard thought that he was in love: he went through the motions. Just as Howard decided that Chad was his friend because that was the role he played, he decided that Christine was marriage material because...she was there. They had nothing in common, they had zero chemistry, but she was there. You gotta serve somebody. “I need—I just don’t want to lose you.” Love as manifest in the material plane requires sacrifice, is sacrifice, of opportunity if nothing else. Howard’s love is meaningless because it costs him nothing. Maybe Uber-Howard would still care about Christine, but not only is it impossible for Christine to know that, Howard himself doesn’t know. Power doesn’t corrupt, power reveals that you were corrupt all along. “Can’t you see I’m the good guy?” See what?

The next day, Howard gets demoted at work. Something went wrong with a fax machine and the copy came out too light; yeah, like a symbol. Chad sees Christine one last time. She confronts him. Chad tries to keep a straight face and then breaks out grinning: “Fuck it. Surprise.”

CHAD: So how does it feel? I mean right now. This instant. How do you feel inside, knowing what you know?

Christine slaps him and begins to sob.

A few days later, Howard shows up at Chad’s place. He’s distraught. Chad jokes around about the contest, then gestures to the other room, where his old girlfriend is sleeping in his king-sized bed. “What the hell? I mean, when did she crawl back?” Howard says. “She never left, Howie,” Chad says, “She’s always been right there.” “Then...why? Why, Chad?”

Good question. The first clue is when Howard runs into Chad and Christine on a date: “Howard and I have the same alma mater. He graduates a semester ahead of me, and now he's my boss,” Chad says, and for once the bitterness creeps in. The second is when Howard, blaming the higher-ups, sends Chad out of town:

CHAD: The real injustice here is if I could throw a curveball—you know, a really good one—just that, nothing else, no education, nothing—none of this would matter. Play in the big leagues for ten years, retire to Oahu.

Chad is handsome, confident, clever, and quite possibly a representation of The Great Deceiver himself. And yet, to get laid, Chad has to contort himself into a puppy. To get paid, he has to kiss ass to Windows 95 robots who wear beige and drink decaf. He spends the day humoring people who won’t acknowledge the joke—that if he could just play stupid arbitrary baseball, he wouldn’t have to. He’s powerless: no matter how well Chad tells his lies, the system determines the signifiers into which these lies fit. 

But Howard—Howard believes in the system. He’s exactly the sort of person who created the phatics that Chad has to obey, who follows even the most vacuous rules with moral seriousness, clings to them all the harder as they turn him into a self-loathing nebbish. Chad’s revenge is to turn the rules against him, to show that no matter how oppressive social protocols get, they will always oppress Chad less, since he’ll say whatever bullshit is required while you’re stuttering your feelings on Whitman. The more checkboxes you demand checked, the more you favor the liar. Chad is bound by the rules of the game, but these rules are what gives him relative power: they make people trust him. “Because I could,” Chad says. “See you Monday.”

There’s a practical lesson here. Every day ambulances scream into the ED carrying young men who moan and complain that they are bedeviled by wine-loving dog moms, fluent in sarcasm, and yet for some reason they can’t get the time of day from those goth chicks who have tongues stuck out and eyes rolled up at all times. I’m not here to kinkshame, send pics if you’re a goth chick with your tongue stuck out and eyes rolled up at all times. But please be aware that lusting after a mannequin is a surefire way to get [extremely Taleb voice] fooled by randomness: the more detailed the script, the more you favor the actor.

I’m not saying you can’t have a type, but the person willing to sacrifice that last ounce of selfhood will always be closest to your 21st century ideal of bimboification. “There are smart women, but I don’t know many women with truly original ideas,” says the cerebral young man who needs four search operators to find adequate porn. Don’t worry—this process is dehumanizing for the fetishized person, but it’s dehumanizing in the other direction as well: only someone who doesn’t care what you think about them, about their real self, would consent to play a fake.

The problem with fetishization is that it prizes symbol above reality, and unfortunately for Christine, dating is systematized fetishization. Not a diss—this is how dating is supposed to work. If our intuition for love is inculcated by Disney, dating replaces the hero’s journey with its symbols: clothes and music as proxy for backstory; movie or pub crawl as proxy for adventure; astrology, Myers-Briggs, and 36 Questions as a proxy for intimacy. Dick pics and nudes test sexual potency without costing the two drink minimum, text and emoji idiosyncrasies reveal more about class and education than a brunch and a half. Dating is an attempt to economize romance, it’s unsurprising that the term was coined in the wake of the Industrial Revolution.

“You know that birds sing, right?” Sure, but nobody has any illusions about what the birds are looking for. I’m not knocking ritual, just ritual that pretends it’s something deeper. If milord sends milady twelve roses, a thoroughbred, a fiefdom, and a bard playing D’Angelo, this courtship is not taken as evidence of good character. It is judged on its own merits, i.e. this guy is either really interested or thirsty af.

This would be common sense except that every force in modern society is opposed to it. Since women are valued as approximations of fetish, they a) lose points for wearing the wrong symbols, and b) lose points if a partner doesn’t fit the brand. So now the first date Scantrons become radiant with their own fascination, because even if they have no meaning except “went through the motions,” everyone on Facebook is acting like they do, and “he seemed nice” is no excuse for dating a Trump supporter or a black guy. And now that privacy has moved public, the list of checkboxes lengthens as men try to gerrymander pussy (which again, always favors Chad) and Cosmopolitan feminists generate new metrics by which women can fall short.

These bureaucrats may have been hurt themselves, they may have the best of intentions. Perhaps that’s why their regulations are never phrased as hostile takeover. Instead, they take the form of advice, #lifehacks, and laugh-tracked satire at a third party’s expense. That’s how it always is, a friendly voice lends you a superego and all you have to do is pay interest on shame. The system wins when its values become your own.

However strong this force was historically, it’s stronger now that society consists of, let me check my phone, everyone. Just as metropolises are now made up of showrooms and gift shops, the demands of 7.442 billion potential tourists outweighing a pittance of locals, the citizens shape themselves into fungible, neon-dyed tchotchkes, while being tormented by the possibility that they have fallen short in this important moral task. The end-game of dating is the targeted ad. 

Before you start in on “swipe culture,” let’s be clear: no one has met cute through friends since the second war in Iraq, and Tinder, whatever faults it may have, at least requires the sacred fumbling of getting to know a stranger. OKCupid is a better example of modern anti-romance, with its careful sorting of partners by politics and caste, with its swamp of information bias that disguises—encourages—lying on the internet. But of course a Yelped bar or bookstore offers the same anonymity, the same curated selection who respond to the same empty lines until you start to hate them for it, like how dare you force me to lie, how dare you be so predictable, and this weakness makes them human which isn’t what you wanted anyway. No doubt they feel the same.

If this sounds bad, it gets worse: the above process is directly responsible for the most modern misandry and misogyny. Please note that the Women Are From Venus stereotypes have largely disappeared, even among misogynists. Please further note that #blackpilled misogynists rarely objectify women; in fact many of these men intentionally desexualize the “female race” and substitute, say, male crossdressers. The catcalling misogyny of the past came from a position of power: internet death threat misogyny comes from desperation. The twist is that the same transition has occurred among women—that despite every metric claiming that women are better off than before, women have moved from Men Are From Mars to a nagging suspicion that anything with a phallus should die.

Why would both sexes feel more powerless? Not discussed in polite society, but heavily discussed by misogynists, is the apparent epidemic of transactional sex: paypig/findommes, camgirls, sugar babies, and omnipresent Amazon wishlists. Sorta kitschy, free country, whatever. I’m sure part of this is mere technological transition, the gyration of the strip club from analog to digital, and Kanye informs me that there have always been implicit gold digging arrangements. But think about what happens when these private arrangements go public. First, some guy starts to associate “hot girl” with “:P spoil me”, and FYI, anger and lust, both performed with a closed fist, are exactly zero degrees apart on the axis of masturbation. And now that our guy has this (maybe unconscious) association, women have to rise to the occasion, e.g. make snotty demands for Venmo donations, because even though this makes him howl with rage, if it’s not there, he assumes the girl’s not that hot.

Everyone loses: women learn that they have to put on an act to get attention, except that half of men think they should die for this act and the other half—even the ones looking for a Serious Relationship—seem to lose interest if it’s ever turned off. Meanwhile the guy grows increasingly lonely/desperate/bitter as he tautologizes that every single girl he likes is an “attention whore." Our guy doesn’t know who he is or what he wants outside of anger and its aesthetics. Maybe he’d hit it off great with one of those women; maybe he should choose a different set of superficialities to pursue; maybe people lie on the internet; regardless, OKCupid gives them a compatibility of 43%.

And meanwhile women are wondering the same thing: how can you know?

There’s one more crucial scene In The Company of Men. Howard arrives at an airport and sees Christine working at a desk. He walks over to her and says, “Listen.” She doesn’t respond. So he says it again, “Listen,” and again, and again, screaming now and—

—but what could he say? Even if his intentions were pure to the utmost, what could he possibly say or do that wouldn’t be perceived as an act? What could any man do that wouldn’t be perceived in the same way? “I asked her what time it was. You know, Mountain, Central.” No wonder she hit you.

This is how society arrives at an absence of faith. It’s no coincidence that Chad executed his scheme as a tourist: that meant there were no witnesses to his character. It’s no coincidence that he picked a nervous brown-eyed waif—someone with too much self-doubt to trust her instincts, someone who draped herself in the trappings of goodness, someone too inexperienced to know that perfect is always a trap. But Christine was chosen because she was deaf. She couldn’t hear voices, she could only see the words. Now the words are gone. The question is what remains.

[pepperpaprika]

S3 Squeeing

Under the cut, mostly nonsense. :’D I’ll do a proper review once I digest it maybe!

First watch, no subtitles, GO.

(I’m sorry about name spellings)

EPISODE 1: 

huh they still have the same opening.

KEITH IS SO SAD

ah yes the zarkon shiro moaning

NO KEITH DONT DO THE WOBBLY EYES

ahhh i forgot the robovoiceover thing the bom have need to add.

skirts seem to be a status symbol with galra.

NINJA RUN OMFG.

oooh nice torpedo, hunk!

omfg an actual parade.

WAIT WAS IT KOLIVAN SAYING "IM SORRY KEITH" earlier??

pooegian? aw cute name. im seriously getting avatar flashbacks tho.

planet keffron, feathery ears

freedom fighters.

intergalactic fashion pirate coran- YES

lance is all about the glory lmao

OMG ALLURA NO- LOOK AT THAT SHOCK.

you can tell they ALL know they stepped on keiths landmine.

Commander Thrak --OH NO THEY ARE HIDING ZARKONS ILLNESS.

this guy is hunched.... OMG SHES A CHAMELEON.

LOL KOLIVAN IS AT THE HEAD

galra empire is most massive... it seems like it could rule another ten thousand years.

LOL KEITH. SO ANGERY.

poor boy.

oh hey pizza roll and pig in a blanket.

LOTOR a;lskdas;klj -Exiled prince -halfbreed at best, no honor -generals can fight for the throne -fighting beside your forces is considered lowly.

omfg. OMFG. LOTOR IS PRETTIER THAN I THOUGHT.

OMFG WHERE DID THEY COME FROM

YEAH GROWL BB

alskdjaskdjaskldj;asjkd;lasjkd;laslk;jdlasjk;dklajsd HES SHORT

LOL NICE PUNCH

Your own agression is your undoing.

oh he was expecting to be killed wasnt he.

arena is to the death confirmed.... so how did that robeast survive.

as;ldkjasdkjasd HEY THEY HAVE GEMS ON THEIR GLOVES/HANDS.

DONT TURN YOUR BACK ON A BLOODTHIRSTY GENERAL LOTOR PLS.

I mean sure theres an audience but still.

oh wow that guy has wolverine hands.

pet the kitty

let him rot with the ice worms~

LOL theyre all looking at lance... i guess they agreed beforehand.

EPISODE 2

nice seaside mediterranean city

is that an elephant?

whoah chameleon girls antenna is super long.

HOW DID THEY LAND GENTLY. oh i see... hmn ita racial.

whoah. she strong.

oh my god. HES THERE.

well i like how chameleon girl is like ty lee

LOL how allura chose the colors.

LOL SAME KEEF.

BLACK LION LOOKS SO SAD ON ITS SIDE. /CRAI

aw ladies first.

LOL PIDGE. lajkasdjasl;kdj

NOT IT. YES HUNK.YOU DIDNT EVEN TRY.

I LOVE IT HUNK.

PIDGGGGE

30 mins of lance sitting in the lion.

but im not you. i cant beat them like you.

PLEASE NO. OMG

LOL LANCES FACE. SO DISAPPOINTED.

I DONT ACCEPT THIS.

OMG SHES PLAYING WITH THE CAT

"no black lion"

oh. shes part snake not lizard?  DID SHE HYPNOTIZE HIM

THIS ONES FOR YOU SHIRO.

oh. they have warp technology.

Lancey Lance. JUST A PHASE. lmaooooo. HIS BEST LINE.

controls dont respond like the red lions.... hmm..

KEITH PROLLY TRAINED IT TO BITE MY HEAD OFF.

Allurance shoulder touch. well I didnt see that coming.

YEAH ALLURA.

There's something different about that lion... its pilot isnt in control.

lol keith thanks coran but not lance. I mean its not his fault this time, technically.

BE CAREFUL WITH RED.

weve seen enough, retreat.

LOL zarkon has a son allura: deeply disturbing.

LANCE STOP TALKING LIKE YOURE GONNA LEAVE HER FOR GOOD.

FALLEN WARRIORS.. AND SHIRO.

"I'm glad it was you."

OMG KEITH.

Episode 3

lol keith no. NOT EVERYONE CAN FLY A THING IN TWO MINS OK.

LOTOR WANTS TO KNOW MORE INFO

fkljas;kdfsaklj YES GO ONE ON ONE

LANCE WHY

omg. OF COURSE HES GOOD AT FLYING. OF COURSE.

DOES THIS THING HAVE BREAKS.

lol yes this was gonna suck from the start.

LOL GARRISON TRIO

GREAT LEADERSHIP KEITH FFFFFT

man this is a trainwreck.

oh man theyre not gonna be able to form are they.

LOL

LOTOR CAN SEE YOU

How disappointing... indeed, Lotor.

oh no keith playing straight into his hands.

nice planet tho.

omg. NOOOO KEEF NO.

huh Hunk has been really careful of allura huh :o its kinda interesting that hes the one who woories about her most... ope theres lance

'its not about the team its about the mission" - very telling.

lol he looks like orochimaru in that helmet, lotor.

generals call him lotor. interesting

LOL THAT SPLAT

alkdjasdkjsa NOOOO

oh no hes gonna capture allura first.

WHY ARENT THE LIONS GUIDING THEM?

ohhh no she dropped into the abyss.

aw shes super scared.

lol yes keith you followed him into his trap.

"oh em gee"

WHAT WOULD LANCE DO

laskdjasldjkaskjdjskjsadfjkljksdla

ALLURA WHY OMG. PARTICLE BARRIER.

abbb ok she must want to be guided. makes sense.

d;alsjdasl IM GLAD WERE ALL MAKING FUN OF LANCE looool.

ahhh there we go 3 eps in before voltron can be formed.

HUNK IM A LEG pretty cool right. IMMORTAL WORDS.

EPISODE 4

lol allura you were never gonna be the last alteans alive unless youre a lot worse at shapeshifting than you thought.

I love this science talk.

DONT GO INTO THE LIGHT.

oh its a wormhole.

ahah a time capsule ship of alteans. Nice.

Orrr not.

whoah lots of arms on that one. IS IT SLAV.

wheres slav anyway.

bom?

ALdaslk;djAS:LKdjasdljOMFG

OMFG.

YES IT IS SLAV AND SHIRO. SVEN.

aldfjlkqwlk;jehs ITS THE ACCENT.

"I MAY BE CRAZY"Nice slav.

ldjasd;lkj LOL LANCE HAS RED GUN.

"OH THATS HIM"

;ldkaslkak I LOVE ITTTTT

ALTEANS ARE EVIL. YES.

EMPRESS

WHAT IS THAT BEHIND THEM A YUPPER.

NO DONT HELP THE EVIL ALTEANS PIDGE.

its nice that all the new chars are girls.

alkjd;askdjasjkl;d I CANT EVERY TIME SVEN TALKS.

Moxus hmn. OMG BRAINWASHING. ALTEAN BRAINWASHING.

preservation of life. is the highest prioirty.. interesting...

YOOHOO UP HERE.

I love how sven has a mullet.

GUNS OF GAMORA.

Voltron can travel between realities. I love this plot device.

ohhhh no. oh nooo. shes doing it WHY ARE YOU SO BLIND.

awww the mice are so SAD.

i cant stop laughing whenever i see Sven.

ASLkdjaskld;jasjdkl THIS IS THE REALITY WHERE EVERYTTHING WORKS OUT FINE.

DOGPILE

I LOVE ITTTT.

;lkvsdf;aldkas;lkd LOL SVEN SVEEEN. lol shance with sven?

DOES HE DO THIS IN EVERY REALITY.

I LOVE THIS REALITY TOO SLAV.

NOOO DONT TAKE IT TO LOTOR. though thats probably needed to make a comparable weapon to voltron.

DESTROY IT

welp.

EPISODE 5

alk;sdjaskj SHIRO

SHOW ME THAT LONG HAIR BABY.

oh wait this is a dream isn't it.

whoah. such hair.

HOBO SHIRO

wtfffff is happeniiing. STAGE 3??

wow the animation quality went up tho.

YOU BE THAT AMERICAN NINJA SHIRO

hmm thigh wound.

anime snow...

aw haggar, its ok.

Yep thigh wound. Niiiiice legs. oh nooo.shiro.

interesting. an oasis of warmth. ohhhh NO NOO NO. GET AWAY.

TENTACLES.

WHAT IS THIS OTHER ALIEN.

lol shiros face. he's so done.

but somethings not adding up.

why was he allowed free?

eiii the return of the term "years"

IDK WHAT IT IS BUT HOBO SHIRO LOOKS SO MUCH BETTER RENDERED SOMEHOW? LIKE AN OVA?

lol yes why dint they GO WITH HIM.

but how did his hair get so long??

ALTERNATE REALITY?

VOLTRON.YES SHIRO. AH HES TOO FAST FOR ME.

oh. THAT ARM.

Lotor is on bad terms Haggar. I AM THE LEADER BUT I AM NOT MY FATHER.

holy shit that arm looks like shiros arm.

OH NO SHIROOO.

alksdjasjd OMG MEMORIES.

BLACK SAVE HIM. SAVE HIIIM.

NOODLES.

EPISODE 6

LANCE LIKE WHIPS. OF COURSE HE DOES.

WHERES SHIRO.

oh new white undershirt.

KEITH JUST TALKING TO SHIRO IN THE DARK IN HIS ROOM.

"they need you you know." Keith talking about himself.

AS MANY TIMES AS IT TAKES TO SAVE YOU SHIRO.

oh. SHORT SLEEVES.

oomg. omg.

I LOVE THE GEEK TALK.

...OH NO

HEY MAN.

SOLID MATH LOL.

Leave the math to pidge. LOL. solid advice.

HUNK BUTT WIGGLE.

LOL keith defers ofc.

THE HAIR IS ALL WROOONG. ITS GOING THE WRONG WAY.

oh no.

THIS MAY BE THE WORST POST IN THE GALRA EMPIRE BUT ITS MY POST. VICTORY OR DEATH. I LOVE YOU FOR THAT THROK.

oh its lotors guards.

???

OMG. OH NO. TELEDUV.

ohh no. SHEITH FIGHT.

lol they believe shiro ofc.

oh so it IS her.

OH YEAH AMBIDEXTROUS KEITH.

aw yes allura grab lances scruff.

ohhh no. this is a rift.

lotors brains vs shiros brains. hmn.

NICE KEITH.

ooooh no.

I wonder if Throk is still alive and can snitch.

Shoulder touch.

SOFT LOOK. The black lion has chosen you.

landing codes? what? whoa lotor. SO THAT PLAN WAS TO SET UP THROK? HES THAT PETTY??

episode 7

IS THAT HAGGAR?THE BLUE PALADIN??

ORIGINAL VOLTRON PALADINS

OH DEAR.

LOL ZARKON HAS A MACE. OR A HAMMER.

MORE KNOWLEDGEABLE AS AN ALCHEMIST THAN A SOLDIER

BEAR ALIEN

ERODES DISCIPLINE.

QUEENS AND KINGS NICE.

alluras already old there huh

and lions are super recent.

omg. ZARKON IS AFRAID OF CATS.

Minerva? Onerva?

OH ALLURA IS A BABY. THATWAS HER MOM SHES A PERFECT COPY.

HES MARRIED TO AN ALTEAN.

oh ships vs clean energy.

OH NO ITS SENTIENT.

why does she sound so dead???

WHY ARE THE LIONS ALL BANGED UP THEYRE SUPPOSED TO BE NEW??

also zarkon used to be so small

GALRA HAVE PUPILS

so blue lions are flirts. hmn.

IS THAT A LIL KITTY NOSE ON THEIR HELMETS?

THE SQUAD. THEYRE SO CUTE.

LOL LEG.

waiiit. WHY DOES KEITH STILL PUSH HIS BAYARD IN FOR FORM SWORD??

isnt it with lance now??

live foreverrr.

Enerva is Haggar??

ohhh thats why his eyes are pink. SO THISIS THE BIRTH OF DRUID MAGIC, THE PARTICLES.

....THATS IT??

[illusmeta]

just marathoned s3 and can I just say

W H A T T H E F U C K

I gotta rant, so spoilers below: 

- SHIRO LIVESSSS YESSSSSS but now he and Keith are kinda stuck in some kind of power struggle?? not exactly but Keith now pilots the black lion and Shiro is kinda just trying to hone his instincts??? I DON’T CARE SHIRO IS FUCKING L I V I N G  (and not just in that random Sven reference hahahaha that was pretty great though and you know it) 

- VOLTRON ORIGIN STORY AHHHHH I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING GOING ON BETWEEN HAGGAR AND ZARKON THEY ARE M A R R I E D and they used to be so fucking cute together??? nerdboi Zarkon can’t be around a pretty lady lmao

- they had the blade of marmora there. They were being useful. They were facing the prejudices of being Galra and all the connotations of being lumped into a group of people that had enslaved an entire empire. and then they just disappear? Like did I miss the part where they all just left the castle ship or where Kolivan just ditched everyone or did the writers just forget about them while they were off filming alternate universe alteans and fucking ALTERNATE SHIRO AND SLAV??? this part confused me so much

- it took a while to figure out what the hell was going on around the middle episodes but everything starts to come together in the last two episodes of the season 

- so basically: quintessence is from another universe?? Or most of it comes from there??? Rifts in the universe?? Voltron came from a comet???? WHAT???? so much stuff that needs to be explained but DAMN am I gonna keep watching this show 

- GALRA POLITICS AND POWER STRUGGLES AHHHHH LOTOR IS 20x THE VILLAIN ZARKON WAS like who even is Zarkon???

- also Lotor’s girl squad like yeeeeeeeeeee (but also is that thing where Keith rescued one of them from the Weblum is never resolved) and this is the part where I started getting confused about what the paladins know about Lotor and what Lotor knew about the paladins and what we as the audience just know because we’re seeing both sides -- like the whole dramatic irony thing really started to confuse me like I just started losing track of what each side was supposed to know and why they were acting the way they were...i just couldn’t keep track of all the jump-cuts in the episodes? like?? 

- now we have three arcs: the lotor arc, the paladins arc, (for a little while) Shiro’s arc, but that last one is quickly replaced with Haggar’s arc -- I’d say this was a clever mechanic but it got confusing midway through so maybe 8/10 good effort on that one

- my question: HOW COME CORAN KNEW ALL OF THIS SHIT AND NEVER MENTIONED IT AT ALL?? LIKE HOW DID HE NOT PUT TWO AND TWO TOGETHER WHEN HEARING THAT HAGGAR WAS ALTEAN AND BE LIKE, WOW, I WONDER IF THE TWO OF THESE PEOPLE ARE THE SAME LADY HMMMMMMMM, like WOW I WONDER IF THIS INFORMATION COULD EVER BE USEFUL OR PERTINENT TO HOW TO UNDERSTAND AND DEFEAT THE ENEMY???

- i can already hear people calling Allura out for being a mary sue to which I say: fuck you, she’s amazing, she has her own conflicts with being too much of a control freak (i can relate), I love her, you will have to fight ME

- SO MANY KLANCE MOMENTS I CAN’T EVEN -- LIKE IT’S THE FIVE MAN BAND VIDEO FROM OVERLY SARCASTIC AND LANCE IS LITERALLY KEITH’S COUNTERPART

- the pacing was kinda weird between episodes because there were some parts that literally killed me (read: WHEN THEY FUCKING FIND SHIRO OUT OF NOWHERE -- I FUCKING THOUGHT SHIRO WA S GONNA DIE ON SCREEN SO CLOSE TO HIS FRIENDS AND THEN KEITH FINDS HIM AND SAVES HIM and I was fucking crying my eyes out for joy, hoping it wasn’t a fever dream or some other alternate universe (BY THE WAY WHAT IS UP WITH THAT MECHANIC WTFFFF) and then they just cut to a scene of the two rebels eating ramen??? and then the next episode just doesn’t address Shiro being back in an emotionally satisfying way...it’s like this show is scared of emotions, jesus christ let’s at least get an on-screen group hug???  like 

ORIGINAL VOLTRON was more emotionally open than Voltron 3.0 AND THEY HAD FUCKING ZARKON ON THE TEAM

- the moment where Lance just kind of breaks down in front of the blue lion in like e2 BROKE ME and we’re expected to just GET UP and SUCK UP ALL THE FEELS so Lance can go back to being a 2D goofball??? N O  I  NEED TO PROCESS MY FEELS

- last episode best episode jfc so much emotional investment and I am HERE FOR IT 

- wish we got to see more of Keith and Lance’s internal conflicts, because they come up (e3 when Keith is just getting mad and then abruptly flips his switch -- we didn’t see much emotional progression there, and then e6 when Lance comes in to talk to Keith about the Lions and whether he really is the 6th wheel and Keith just?? brushes him off?? like saying “Let Pidge handle the math” is in any way making it better?????? poor lance is going through so much inferiority complex, what with Allura piloting Blue and Shiro being back and it just NEVER G E T S  R  E  S  O  L  V  E  D?????) 

- also: SHIRO’S CONFLICT? WHERE THE F C L 

- the man basically went through a whole different WORLD OF TRAUMA, feels like he’s gotten abandoned by his whole team, thinks he got betrayed by his own lion, I wasn’t even sure if it was him when he was doing the whole Galra escape thing, and BY THE WAY DON’T THINK I’VE FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE WHOLE HALLUCINATION THING THAT HAPPENED ON THAT GALRA SHIP like WHAT IS THAT PROJECT and how the FUCK is it never addressed later??? like I SEE YOU CREATORS YOU AIN’T SLICK but anyway

- AND HE STILL GETS UP AND LEADS THE FUCKING TEAM WHILE LETTING KEITH GROW INTO LEADERSHIP THIS MAN IS A GOD WHAT THE F U CK I LOVE HIM

- also the whole thing with Haggar and Zarkon being pure evil.... i dislike that because it writes away some of the cool complexity that Lotor brings to the show (b/c Lotor brings into mind the benevolent dictator and he calls into question whether Voltron is an ‘ultimate good’ or whether that ultimate good can exist and I am SO HERE FOR IT and then the writers try to write that BACK UNDER THE RUG with the ‘pure evil’ nonsense  like

NO JUST LET LOTOR DO THE THING

- VOLTRON 3.0: KEITH IN BLACK, ALLURA IN BLUE, LANCE IN RED,,,,, it just works somehow and I LOVE SHIRO JUST BEING TEAM DAD LET HIM LIVE AND NOT HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE CONSTANT TRAUMA OF SPACE

- OVERALL: HOLY SHIT 7/10 SO MANY LOOSE PLOT ENDS AND MISSED OPPORTUNITIES BUT ALSO H  O  L  Y   SHITTTT

[mygoldenmove]

So @shedoesthewoods started this and both her and @theunitedkanedom tagged me to do it! I've been obsessing over my decisions ever since. And that's putting it lightly.

What would your current perfect Arctic Monkeys set list be? Rules: TLSP and Submarine Soundtrack are off the table but all the AM b-sides are obviously fair game. OKAY let’s do this: cap 20 songs including the encore (and in order!!)

1 Dangerous Animals 2 Do me a Favour 3 Teddy Picker 4 This House is a Circus 5 All My Own Stunts 6 Evil Twin 7 Jeweller's Hands 8 Hellcat Spangled 9 Stop the World 10 Joining the Dots 11 Electricity 12 Potion Approacing 13 No. 1 Party Anthem 14 Arabella 15 I Haven't Got my Strange 16 Blonde-O-Sonic Shimmer Trap 17 Pretty Visitors (my favorite)

18 Brianstorm 19 Suck It and See 20 A Certain Romance

Alternatively, they can just play Humbug ... Twice, maybe. In a row. For me personally.

Anyway, I tag: @enthusiasm-paraphernalia @black-infinity-parked-outside, @alexturntable @alexturnerers @glassjacket @alexturner2005 @humpuukia @partynthem @originofsymmetry2001

[tumblunni]

HELLO GHOSTCRAFTER PLEASE BRING ME YOUR FINEST GHOSTS

HEY GUYS DID YOU KNOW WARHAMMER NOW DOES FANTASY? GUESS WHO JUST FOUND OUT WARHAMMER DOES FANTASY

seriously ive like Always wanted to do tabletop games as a hobby, but i was never socially confident enough and also Warhammer In Particular Requires Money

But i just Took A Risk And Dived Into The Store and then the cashier was really helpful AND also it turns out the series has changed a lot since i was a kid! Now there's multiple scenarios including a fantasy one, instead of just the grungey edgelord sci fi! Sure its grungey edgelord fantasy too but fantasy is better cos fantasy can have GHOSTS!!! man i wanna learn more about the rules cos yo can you mix and match stuff? Could i have ghosts AND zombies AND vampires??? Do i really have to restrict my monster wuv...?

Oh and also NO BIGOTRY ANYMORE which is always a plus! There was only one female faction in the space thing back then, and they were creepy bondage sexy ladies who stab themselves and use their orgasm power to fuel their magic or something. Like it just said "magic fueled by suffering" but uhh..when theyre all skimpily dressed and doing O-faces it uhh..DOESNT SEEM LIKE THIS IS PUNISHMENT TO THEM. I cant believe people reccommeded that to me as a 12 year old just cos it was the only "girl one".like i mean i know the definition of the gane is gonna be violent and Dark but like you should still categorize some stuff as maybe Even Darker And Perhaps Not Sell To Smol Childe. Having green blood on your axe is a bit tamer than goddamn fifty shades in space! So yeah glad that's not the only option now and i can have a wonderfully ghoulish lady ghost who's like a bedsheet spoop but a wedding veil and then there's a skeleton underneath it. Mmmyeah thats quality monster! TRULY WHAT ALL WOMEN ASPIRE TO BE

Oh and yeah the ghosts just look SO GOOD! they have a great design aesthetic of floaty smokeyness but also skeletal zombieness. And the smoke colours are very Aesthetic to make up for the fact you cant actually have translucent plastic. And they all have super dynamic poses swinging all.sorts of cool.weapons on chains and sticks just so they had an excuse to spice up an otherwise ordinary figure. And then MAN when there's the ones that are dynamically posed AND also have a really unusual design?? God my heart just explodes. I looooove these spoops~

And man i hope i can work up the courage to go back and ask the cashier more questions next time! I wanna know the specifics of the rules and how creative im allowed to get with them. How different can i paint them? How am i allowed to mod my figures? Can you mix and match figures from each faction? Do you just have to rp as the plain army description for each faction or can you make up your own division of the ghost dudes who are Not Tormented and Not Ruled With An Iron Fist and instead have a Nice Boss Who Takes Them Out For Milkshakes? Also can i put little top hats on them?

And maaaaan seriously i already have so many ideas for alternate plotlines for these guys!! Its SUCH A WASTE! the short summary mentions that you become a ghost if you're "not good enough for [warhammer equivelant of heaven] and evil enough for [warhammer equivelant of hell]". But then ALL OF THEM ARE JUST EVIL ANYWAY. "Not evil enough" but still every single unit description is "he was an executioner/hunter/serial killer/world's worst criminal ever/he has so style he has no grace t t this stabman stabs u in th face." Like seriously where are my actual morally gray dudes who did bad stuff for good reasons or good stuff for sinful reasons or straddled the line between redemption and temptation or like MAN THERE ARE SO MANY DIFFERENT DEFINITIONS OF PURGATORY PERSON! Like why not bring up all the completely good people who might get unfairly sentenced here if this world's angel faction has as many corrupt priests as the real world? Ghosts of unwed mothers, unbaptised children, lgbt and other minorities the church is bigoted against, people falsely accused of crimes by corrupt pastors, peope whose mental illness is blamed as 'demon possession', teenage brides who didnt accept their 'holy' arranged mariage to a man twice their age, poor people who just didnt donate enough to the church caddy, etc. Or even just plain normal people? Like if you don't believe that humans are inherantly good you might damn Ol George Farmerson for "not doing anything with his life". Norse mythology had a "bad place" like that, everyone went to Helheim even if they werent evil, just for not "dying a warrior's death". And a lot of the worst child abusing christians twist the scripture to claim that all children are born sinful and have to work off this goddamn debt they gained through no fault of their own.

So yeah i was thinking of having a Nighthaunt faction division where i replace all their weapons with stuff like gardening tools and etc. Farmer of doom! Librarian of death! Single mother of pain! Kindly grandpa neighbour of ultimate power! Just all the lost souls of people who weren't super evil dudes. Maybe even theme it like theyre all from the same village? Maybe the entire place was damned for the sins of one man. Just generally criticize the hell out of the way all these dumbass gods organize their damn afterlife.

And then i could have a warden/general character who's Actually Nice and Actually Tries To Help These Ghosts Work Off Their Sentence. Kindly support worker type person. Treats it like voluntary work and extracurricular classes for people recovering from illness. Does all this paperwork and arranges little art classes and weekly walks around the park for all the grandmas. "Let's do the five-point recovery star to help plan our goals for the future!" Support ghost is here to help u accept ur new damned existance, and help progress up the employment ladder of hell~!

And then i was also thinking SHAMELESS CHARON CROSSOVER! i mean itd be so cool to have a ghost dude who's been damned for being a corrupt tax collector or something. And if he was all hunched over and grumply with some claw hands. And if he was this physically weak type due to his crimes not really being of the fighty sort. And if he was a grandpa. And small. I AM ABSOLUTELY JUSTIFIED IN SAYING CHARON WOULD FIT PERFECTLY INTO THIS WORLD!! Also it woukd actually be cool if i could mix and match units and i just had one single holy creature in this army of doom. Like a lil pixie type thing like rotom! An innocent barely-sentient angel glowybab, who's inexplicably latched onto this motley crew of spoops and seems to see a spark of goodness in them. Like the whole "youre a punished ghost cos you suck but you did One Good Thing so here's a small chance to escape your fate" myth thats common to a lot of cultures. And the dude usually ruins his one chance by being greedy again, blablabla. That would really fit Charon! So like i dunno maybe this rotom-equivelant lil celestial fairy could be the soul of a baby or a cat or something that he saved when he was alive? Like i dunno his final heist went catatrophically wrong and he accidentally knocked over a lantern and set the place on fire. And he could have been able to escape if he'd just been as selfish as usual, but he heard a kid crying from inside the burning building and he ran back inside to try and save them. And uhh.. He still failed. They both died. And now he's stuck on afterlife death row but this lil angel still comes to visit and cheers him on. And a bunch of other redeemable and/or falsely accused non evil ghosts all ended up becoming his buddies too and now they're all fighting together to find a better future~! (Charon: I'VE NEVER HAD SO MANY FRIENDS! :'D ...what is their resale value)

SO YEAH IN SUMMARY I LOVV GHOST AND ADDING GHOST MAKES ALL UR GAMES MUCH MORE BETTER now plz let me be nice to ghost, srsly it sucks that their whole deal is "theyre all being tortured constantly and not even their boss gives a shit about them". I dont wanna play as a ghost torturer!! I BOUGHT THIS GHOSTE BECOS I LOVV THIS GHOSTE

[yeont4n]

Answer all!!

here we fuckn goooooooooo

we are bulletproof: if you could be any superhero, who would you be and why?

u kno that 1 girl from sky high whose only power was shapeshifting into a hamster? her. no reason

no more dream: if you woke up tomorrow to be incredibly famous, how would you react?

id go check my mailbox to collect all my free promotional gifts and then prolly fake my own death

i like it: if you could reverse any moment in your life, what would that moment be? 

there’s 1 thing but im not rlly gonna expose myself like tht on here smh

n.o: biggest pet peeve?

loud chewing/loud eating,,,,,,

we on: how do you deal with people who don’t like you?

i dont deal wit it lmfao it’s not my business who likes me n who doesn’t unless someone’s being particularly vocal about it:// in that case i’d prolly jus laugh about it

if i ruled the world: what would you do if you found out that you were an heir to a wealthy kingdom?

lmfao. idk tbh prolly decide which breed of dog i wanted to be known for loving

coffee: what’s your coffee order?

i dont order coffee often buh somethin w a lot of sugar.

cypher pt. 1: if you had to be part of a kpop group, what position would you want to be (i.e. leader, visual, lead vocal, dancer, rapper, maknae, etc.)

maknae i guess? how about staff

rise of bangtan: when and how did you get into the king and legends, also known as bangtan sonyeondan?

i saw a video of yoongi performing intro:nevermind in like 2015 n was :o ! buh never looked into it. in 2016 i saw the fire and bst dance practice vids and was like :0!??? but again, never looked into it. then finally spring day/not today mvs dropped n i FINALLY looked into who these boys were n jus fell down an ever spiraling rabbit hole.. now we here

satoori rap: what does home mean to you?

a feeling. i mean i have a few physical manifestations of the concept of home: my town, my school, my house. things i can return to. but really it’s a feeling isn’t it?? safety, familiarity, comfort, fondness

boy in luv: when you are interested in someone (romantically, sexually, etc.), does your behavior change?

yeah probably altho i dnt have many data points to go over rn

just one day: who would you want to spend the last day of your life with?

yall expectin me 2 say bts buh id want 2 be wit my friends n family . bts can b there 2 if they want

tomorrow: goal that you would like to achieve within the next year?

get into..... college.....

cypher pt. 2: one thing about yourself you wish people would appreciate more?

i never express appreciation n all that verbally thru words or physically thru touch buh i have my own ways of showin tht i care n i guess it dont count if i dont communicate explicitly like: hey ilu ! . what happened to actions speak louder than words smh

spine breaker: what is your weakness when it comes to spending money?

makeup!!!!!!!!!! >

jump: favorite childhood memory?

getting my dog tina!!!!

miss right: what is your ideal ‘type’?

physically i tend 2 like the boyish types likkee think taehyung inu era i guess. boy next door vibes; ive never rlly been into the macho build or the preppy, neat look, or the rough around the edges, angsty shithead badboy exterior model like i like my boys S.O.F.T.! puppy-ish!

personality wise i guess jusssss idk i’m gonna copy n paste a list of qualities i look 4 in a partner that i wrote for a different ask game a while back: Sense of humor, openmindedness, compassion, reliability, ability 2 communicate directly/emotional maturity, ambition/drive/work ethic, etc.

i like it pt. 2: dream date? 

yall prolly expecting me to say smthn like staying in n watching movies n eating junk but i’d prolly wanna go out n do smthn ngl. not a movie where u can hardly even speak or a dinner date where u feel trapped n stiff buh smthn fun n mildly competitive n engaging ??????? although jus chillin dont sound so terrible either

danger: have you ever had a near-death experience?

kinda not really it was on hampton beach n i had an allergic reaction but i wasnt on death’s door or nuthn

war of hormone: most embarrassing moment?

i bled thru my fucking pants in like 7th grade n it got on the chair! it was bad lol i was jus talking about this w my friend n she was like “yeah i remember that haha:)” shut up caitlin

hip hop lover: three songs that are meaningful to you?

moonlight sonata, ballade no. 1 in g minor, bts’ entire discography ties for 3rd

let me know: are you good at keeping secrets?

no lmfao . keeping my own, sure.

rain: most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done?

some words that have never been used to describe me, grace: spontaneous, easy going, flexible. the most impulsive thing i’ve done is prolly take a random sidestreet omw home just for the heck of it lol

cypher pt. 3: favorite outfit to wear?

cute jeans w a belt, a crop top. white adidas. i like dresses too tho!! n i really like layered clothes (a mock turtle neck under a slip dress or like a pinstripe button up under a babydoll fit blouse. i jus think it’s fuckin adorable)

blanket kick: longest time you’ve spent lying in bed (sleeping or not)? 

prolly 2 or 3 days

24/7 = heaven: what are you most looking forward to?

fuck i rlly dk . doesnt that suck??

look here: do you have any hidden talents?

i can burp on command lmfaoofdj

second grade: proudest accomplishment?

dont ask me this if u dnt want to be made uncomfortable by how genuinely unproud of myself i am lol

i need u: are you in love?

wit k*m t*aehy*ng? yeah.

hold me tight: does physical contact comfort you?

no........... maybe i havent found the right person but it’s not my cup of tea generally speaking

love is not over: ever had your heart broken?

no but now i know what i can look forward to haha

dead leaves: how loyal are you?

im rlly loyal if that commitment is mutual. w my family i’m ride or die i’ll fuck anyone up who comes for my asshole brother idc!!!!!!!!!

move: last time you cried?

cant remember,, i dnt cry much. prolly watching reply 1988 when bo ra and her dad were exchanging letters on her wedding day.

butterfly: most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

his name looks similar to my url thats the only hint im giving

run: do you like traveling? if so, where? what’s your dream vacation?

i dnt really like travelling tbh but i do wanna go back to korea one day. not necessarily as a tourist but as a diasporic korean person myself

ma city: if you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

idk. i cant imagine not living in the states tbh but i also cant say i love it here either

baepsae: do you vote and/or keep up with politics?

i can’t vote but i’m in my school’s youth vote committee which runs debates for local elections and registration drives at the end of the year. i kept up with politics a lot more last year but after the election i jus got 2 bitter. i know what’s going on but only sort of surface level smh

dope: what did you want to be when you were younger? how does it compare to what you want to be now?

i wanted to be a teacher lmfao and i wanted to commute to college n save $$ bc i was a practical little fucker even when i was 6. these days i’m not that interested in teaching bc a) i’d be objectively bad at it and b) i was a classroom mentor for elementary schools and... realized i can’t work w kids tht small every damn day i’d rlly snap

fire: are you a spontaneous person?

no~

save me: your favorite place on earth?

rn??? m y bed

young forever: what is one movie from your childhood that you will always treasure?

august rush lol

boys with fun: you’re going on a roadtrip with seven other people– dead, alive, fictional, real, famous, or not. who are they, and why?

really......... seven other people:)? guess.

converse high: how many pairs of shoes do you own?

12??? 3 are the same black heel lmfao n a lot i havent worn in years but i still technically own them. i rlly b wearing the same 4 pairs in a cycle n 1 rotten bleach stained soggy mess for work shoes.

whalien 52: weirdest thing that has ever happened to you? alternatively, weirdest dream you’ve ever had?

weirdest dream i ever had was way too long to type out n had way too many references to people in my personal life to ever be interesting lmao

house of cards: when was the last time you felt sexy?

HAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAAHHAAH?????????????????

boy meets evil: have you ever committed a crime? if so, what was it? alternatively, what is the worst thing you have ever done?

does speeding count smh.

blood, sweat, & tears: kinkiest kink you have?

rolling eyes emoji. pass!

begin: who are you most grateful for in your life?

my parents!

lie: biggest fear?

real talk? failure. abandonment but i’m adopted, how cliche. also bugs

stigma: would you rather know the date of your death or the cause of your death?

date of death bc if i knew the cause but not have any indication of when it’d hit me, i’d be a paranoid agoraphobic wreck for the rest of my life

first love: do you believe in soulmates?

yes but i also believe you can have more than one! and that soulmates aren’t exclusively romantic

reflection: if you could tell your past self one thing, what would it be?

get ur fucking bangs cut

mama: are you good at giving advice?

yeah i think so

awake: if you had to be a flower, which flower would you be?

lazy daisy

lost: how good are you with directions? do you get lost easily?

horrible horrible horrible. directionally challenged. i can’t even find my way to the fucking grocery store down the road on my own. if i ever missed an exit on the highway you’d never hear from me again, i could never find my way back without a gps. i’m dead serious

cypher pt. 4: what do you do to treat yourself or relax?

take a bath or a long long shower. eat smthn warm, drink tea, do a face mask, change my sheets n snuggle up watchin a drama or movie or playin sims

am i wrong: you wake up one morning in the hospital, knowing only your name and a single memory from your life. what is that memory?

wtf how do i answer this lmfao how wud i know lol

21st century girls: do you prefer texting, calling, or video chatting?

texting! calling if it’s a long story though

2!3!: your favorite thing about bangtan?

their modesty and grace ! they’re a true underdog success story >

spring day: who do you miss right now?

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

not today: what are your procrastinating right now?

math summer work smh

wings: on airplanes, do you prefer the window seat, the middle seat, or the aisle seat?

window seat!

you never walk alone: how many people do you trust with your life?

4?

[ceruleanhail]

Letter 10: Someone You Don’t Talk To As Much as You’d Like

Dear E,

It’s a bit of an irony for me to pen this letter to you, because we are still in speaking terms. We still chat on Messenger, we still talk even though it’s not as often as we’d like, and I miss that. As much as I’d like to say “such is life”, I know it’s partially due to me being a poor communicator and not chasing after what I want aggressively.

... I apologize. 

In usual circumstances, this would be something I’d share with you. But this time, it seems that the negativity won over, because I’m losing faith in everything I’d once believed in it, which include human interactions. Funny enough, I turn back to writing again even though time and again I’ve often claimed how I lose faith in my writing. But perhaps, regardless of that loss of faith, it is still that one act that I knew that would attain closest to what I’d want to express...

To be honest, I’m stuck in a rut.

And now, I’m attempting to break out of that rut.

And it’s effin’ difficult, because my mind can’t make up what it wants. It wants everything, yet ends up with nothing. It wants way more than its body’s limits and refuses to believe that this is the limit.

There is also the matter of feeling helpless, of wanting to gain independence yet feeling loss at the face of choices. Part of my mind screams of fear, of dreams, of getting tired of the things around me, of wanting freedom without judgment. And the other part constantly rationalises and reprimands: that things may not be as bad, that I’m being melodramatic, that this is good life experience.

I am trapped in this constant cycle of emotions, and I do not know how to release out of pure habit. That is not to say there are no offered hands, no, I get that. People wanting to help, people steering me to directions, people grasping out... and all I could do was look at them with a half-outstretched hand, look at the directions they pointed and refuse to budge because their way may not be my way and I’m still trying to find my way and am failing really badly at it.  

All this unhelpful paranoia makes me tired, forcing me to escape into gaming... but as much as I love gaming, I am aware that the direction I’m going is an unhealthy one. That is not to say gaming in general is bad and unhealthy, but the fact that I’m using games to suppress my fear and emotions just makes me feel sucky, like a wretched scum on earth. And yet, at the moment, games provide the comfort that I need, but that comfort is just as bad as drinking lots of wine at the moment...

So here I am, writing to you. Even though I could just call you now, or send you a hi. Except, if I were to do that, I knew I wouldn’t say anything about this. Not because I don’t trust you or don’t want to worry you (okay, partially, teensy weensy maybe), but I just... don’t know where to start, don’t know how to tell you.

It’s 2017, but I feel like I’m stuck with 2016 baggages, in which some of them came from 2015.

And perhaps, that’s why I’m writing this. Because writing is, in a sense, for me to face my fears and break out of this rut. I’ve always believed that everything needs a balance: gaming is a comfort, but that doesn’t mean other things like friendship, reading and writing can’t be pillars of comfort as well. Communicating with you is comfort, but... recently, I feel that whenever I talk to you, I’d go to the lesser evil of what’s bothering me, and in the end, nothing gets out. It’s not a “I don’t want to share with you”, it’s more of a “I don’t know where to start”.

I’m sorry. v.v

So, let’s talk about something hopeful: I’ve created some 2017 resolutions while jogging with a friend yesterday that pertains to the things I love and where I’d want to be. In all honesty, I’ve never create resolutions because I’d most likely forget them + never do them. But this time, I’ve decided to eternalise here so that I may one day reread this either with regret or pride.

1. It’s 2017, and I want to learn a new skill or take up a new hobby. Preferably something health-related or exercise. Most likely Tai Chi or Yoga. I’m giving myself a January deadline to decide on this, but for now, I’ll jog with my friend on weekends. \o/ 

2. Traveling-wise, there are two goals I intend to achieve:  a) I’d like to drive to Ipoh to visit my relatives. Considering that I’ve just got my car last September, it seems fitting for my car to, ah, visit its mistress’ roots. b) I’d like to travel far independently, well, you know the destination and understand that it’s a costly trip. I’ve traveled a lot, but this is a trip I’d like to go myself. Hence, saving up for this will... take a little more time than usual. Patience, I will get there. 

3. Writing-wise... ugh, I really have no faith in being able to keep up with my writerly goals, because I’m in the mode where every fictional stuff I write sucks in my mind may they be original or fanfics but eh, who knows, maybe I’ll find a crappy fanfic and be inspired by its OOCness and decided to write just to show that I could do better, but is this really the way to write...? *looks at dem raunchy NilesLeo fics and lack of RyomaLeo fics*. oTL But this year, I’d like to at least finish up this letter challenge even though it’s probably gonna be about me bitching about life than about really writing how I feel to the person addressed, and also finished that 30 day video game challenge. And maybe finish up Strange Fictions but that’s too much to hope for, sorry, Mr. A.

4. Reading-wise, I wanna read 50 books! My previous 50 books challenge failed, but I read more than half! Let’s see if I can break my previous record or reach the goal this time. Though, that’d mean needing to read at least 4 books per month? Pressure!

5. Gaming-wise, well, having able to chat with a rare Dragon Quest fan reminded and rekindled my love for the series and lore. If possible, I would love to play DQ1-3... except my phone OS is apparently too new to support it. =_= I’d continue to search for ways, but meanwhile, I’d like to finish at least DQ6 and DQ8 this year.

6. I’d like to refine my Chinese tea-brewing skills. I’ll measure that success by participating two tea classes and being able to practice brewing tea at least once weekly. /o/

7. With my current job, refining my accounting skills is needed. As such, I’d like to go through the basics again (and perhaps make my decision in whether to take up CPA or not).

8. Lastly, I’d like to search for an alternative source of income, a passive income as you would. Because I’m well aware that working at my current job most likely be really fixed and wouldn’t pay much... not to mention that my family has been relying on my money a bit. So, additional income would certainly help.

... Well, who knows, maybe I’ll be stuck in the same cycle of rut and get nothing achieved. It’s just so hard to get motivated after failing oneself for so many times after all. I could go far end at the corner and cut you off from my life out of sheer stupidity.

Nevertheless, I’ll come back. I’m still trying. I’m even writing!

I’m able to post this letter up, and that is one victory for me.