#Better Than Sex Eyeliner review

[yearofthemagicaltorment]

Weekly Round-up December 4th

What I tried this week:

This week I ordered from Flip for the first time. They had a great promo code for Cyber week plus they always offer 1 or 2 free items depending on your order amount and these are not cheap items. My order total was $80 which came to $48 after the discount. My free item was $95 (this was not included in the discount total).

If you have not heard of Flip I highly recommend it, you automatically earn a 30 percent discount by watching videos (product reviews) and you can earn money on the app by reviewing products. Here is my referral link, this starts you out with $30 off your purchases. I’ll be honest the $30 is not a straight $30 it is a part of the 30 percent discount and there is some confusing math that goes on here but it helps. 

Makeup:

Nars Dragon Girl -  It’s a stick matte. The formula dried very quickly but was very comfortable throughout the day. It did not budge and did not leave behind lipstick on my drinks. The color is described as a vivid siren red. I would agree.

About Face Sad Girl - This formula wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked. The color is bright and bold. I bought it for the water line although I am now curious about how it will look on the lid. I paired this with Danessa Myricks Beauty Infinite Chrome Waterproof Micropencil Eyeliner Lemon Quartz - I am a sucker for a shift and this was absolutely stunning. I was in mid to bright light so it looked sort of gold/a little green. In low light, it had a more of a bronzy gold color to it. Both looked beautiful with Sad Girl.

Valentino Magnificent Smudgeproof Volumizing Mascara - This is the first mascara I’ve liked as much as Better Than Sex. Maybe better than. All I know is I keep grabbing it. I will say it is smudge-proof but not waterproof. I had to put some eyedrops in and it ran for miles so through a waterproof top coat on when wearing this if you have allergies. 

Youthforia BYO Blush - I tried it. I gotta say it’s pretty cute. It’s gimmicky for sure but who doesn’t love a gimmick every once in a while? It’s buildable and fun. Do I have colors that suit me better? Sure. But If I want to go with a pop of pink, this one will be my go-to.

Naked Sundays Glow + Go Hydrating Lip Oil SPF 50+ - I am absolutely obsessed with lip products. This one is so good. The applicator is fuzzy but flexible so it just feels really nice when you put it on. This lip oil sits nicely on top of the lip and takes a long time to soak in. It is non-sticky and feels very hydrating. Plus it has the added bonus of having SPF which we need for our lips too.

Skincare:

Karying TXA Serum - I recently went through some stressful times and my skin flipped the fuck out with hormonal acne. Thankfully that has subsided but it has left hyperpigmentation behind. This product has been able to make a noticeable difference just over the past few days. I can’t wait to see what it does over the next few weeks.

Fitness:

Lit Method Axis - I do this along with Supernatural Fitness. I feel like it’s a good compliment to my regular routine. I will be honest though, I am slightly disappointed that they do not have an Android app at this time. Their site says nothing about being iOS only and I feel like that is something that they should tell people. I contacted their CS about the app situation and they said that Android is coming this month. So for now they are just basic bands.

What I received this week:

Droplette - Super excited to start using this but I need to wait for my iPad.

Oneskin - Waiting for until I start using Droplette.

Pat McGrath - lipsticks and balms. I will be using these next week. So excited. Elson might just be the most prettiest red I’ve seen in real life.

Melt Cosmetics - Four Twenty Palette, some Lipsticks, and a lip pencil. This stuff came from a Black Friday Surprise box. It was an excellent deal for $25.

Nabla - Cutie Palette #6 Midnight and #7 Analogue. These were from the Trendmood Black Friday box. 

What I ordered this week:

Perricone MD - Growth Factor Firming & Lifting Eye Serum $36.00 through GMA Deals. If you are a beauty junkie I recommend checking this site daily. Your wallet will thank you.

Violette_FR - Bisou Balm - again no deal. This one was because Facebook advertising has got my number. They are advertising all these lipstick balms to me and this one looks to be the best one. So much so that I paid full price which is really rare. 

Sephora - Augustinus Bader The Essence and Fenty Skin Plush Puddin Lip Mask with Pomegranate Sterols + Vitamin E. The total came to $96.99 with the 20% code going on right now. 

Beauty Pass Luxury Review Box - $269 - This box has everything you will need for the year and then some. I had been wanting an advent calendar and I decided this was way better because it has 37 (full size) products in it. I watched the spoiler for it to make sure they were at least mostly things I would use and for sure over time I will. I’m super excited about it.

I also did all of my Christmas shopping including stocking stuffers so I’m feeling pretty accomplished. What did you guys try this week? Did you fall in love with any products?  Are you waiting for anything special?

[bubblytalkies]

New Post : Too Faced’s New Better Than Sex Eyeliner and Mascara is worth the Hype! | Bubblytalkies #ReviewTalkies

[belladoesmakeup]

Hi everyone,

So recently I’ve been reviewing a lot of products and going back to some old favourites so I wanted to do a top 3 of my favourite high end eyeliners (now before I start this post I will be doing top 3 drugstore eyeliner as well later to include a more affordable eyeliners). Now I’m focusing on 3 brands today Too Faced , Kat Von D and Benefit, the eyeliners listed are brush tip eyeliners (basically a skinny pen) as I find these the easiest to use and get the most even wings. The price range is between (£17.00 - £19.00) and below I’m gonna talk you through my favourites.

My first favourite is from Benefit and is called Roller Liner , which was brought out to match their mascara. The price is £18.50 and this eyeliner comes in brown and black, now I own both colours but I wanted to talk about the brown today. Recently ive been using it more because it goes great with nude / warm tone looks without overtaking the look. While black eyeliner is my favourite brown is a great new edition to a slightly warmer cat eye look. Since this eyeliner collection came out it has received great reviews from beauty lovers and I have to admit it works like a charm.

My second favourite is a old classic Kat Von D Dagger eyeliner. This eyeliner is only available in black and costs £17.00. This eyeliner is my go to when I want something that will last all day and easy to create even wings with. I’ve been using Kat Von D since it launched in the UK 2/3 years ago and while I love to try other eyeliners I do tend to go back to this one. When Kat Von D launched her eyeliners a lot of companies were quick to follow her lead as she managed to make an eyeliner that dried quickly, was a matte black formula and last all day.

And lastly my most recent purchase and new obsession Too Faced Better Than Sex Eyeliner. This eyeliner is only available in black currently and costs £18.00, while I adore all the liners I’ve mentioned all ready in comparison I would have to say this is the easiest to use when you want a really thin eyeliner wing or lid and just want a subtle eye look. Like I said earlier all the eyeliners I’ve mentioned have a brush tip but this liner has the thinnest which makes drawing wings so much easier, like the other liners it also dries down really quickly and lasts all day. Like Benefit this liner was also released to match a mascara already released. This product has kick started my new little obsession with Too Faced Cosmetics.

I hope you found this useful if you’re browsing eyeliners and wondering what to pick.

Lots of love

Bella x x

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Flower (Revenant x Reader)

[For AO3 archive, click here.]

Theme: Loneliness and depression are a painful but wicked combination after you have to talk about your past when you don’t want to. No matter how optimistic your friends might be, it doesn’t really fix anything.

Warnings: Graphic content, references to sex, references to past assault, references to noncon, male dominance, threats of violence, descriptions of violence, sharp objects, pain, post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar, depression, mania, fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: What the fuck is a plot?

Navigation:

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

------------

You wake up to the sun fully over the skylight window, shining brightly into your eyes. You groan as you realize what time it must be. Closing your eyes only reminds you how thin your eyelids are, as the only color you see is a fleshy red rather than the lovely darkness you wish you could experience. You pull your arm over your eyes and experience the darkness again, if only for a few precious moments.

As you come to, you remember what you did last night and feel a weird sense of concern overcome you. That wasn't a dream, was it? You are lying here without clothes on, after all, and you don't exactly feel clean either. It definitely happened. You panic a little and jolt up in bed, holding the blanket to cover you as you scan the room. You're alone, and there's no sign of where Revenant could be.

You review the events of yesterday to yourself. You remember Revenant taking apart his old chassis and saving some of the parts from it. You remember teasing him until he tied you to a chair using his scarf, although you remember kinda deserving that. You snicker to yourself, remembering how he called you a "bully" to Sherry. Yes, you definitely bullied the giant, metal simulacrum built to kill. You remember Revenant left you pizza that was good enough that a blatant murder couldn't distract people from it, and then you remember chasing it down with too much vodka. You remember Revenant covered in blood at some point after that, then Pathfinder showing up, then falling asleep alone...? That last bit doesn't make much sense, but there was probably a decent reason for all those things happening together. Then you remember waking up in the middle of the night and definitely remember Revenant gently loving on you to the fullest extent.

You've never actually thought you'd be open to sex at all. Especially considering all you've been through, it's amazing you trusted Revenant enough to let him do that to you. You take a deep breath to yourself. It's too easy to be anxious about experiences like this, especially when they tread such a close line to your past traumas. In reality, you don't regret anything, you've just surprised yourself. The main concern now is why would Revenant run off immediately after a night like that?

Maybe you'll feel better after a shower and cleaning stuff up a bit. After all, you've learned that dwelling on discomfort only leads to more confusion and generally a breakdown. That's the last thing you need right now. No need to ruin something that should be a positive experience with an anxiety-riddled spiral into depression. Imagine losing your mind all because Revenant had some errand to run today. That would be silly.

You get out of bed and scurry to the bathroom, finding some used towels hanging to dry. You're not sure if they're the ones you used or the ones he used, but it doesn't really matter. He's made of metals, plastics, silicones, and PVCs. It's not like his towels are going to have anything gross on them. You grab the closest one and quickly change your mind when you notice the red streaks across it. That's blood, and it's not like it could possibly be his. You throw it to the corner of the tile floor to remind yourself to wash it later. The other towel must have been yours, because there's no blood on it and it's considerably drier than the other.

You turn the shower knobs and wait patiently for the water to warm up, taking a moment to brush your teeth while you wait. Ever since he went on a long tangent about shaving, you can't help but eye his razor case when you see it. You wouldn't dare touch it since you know how much it means to him, but you'd like to see it at some point. The steam starts to fog up the mirror, so you quickly finish with your teeth and jump in the shower. You rapidly clean yourself with as much soap as you can manage to lather into your hair and skin.

You nab the clean towel and dry yourself off, spending an excessive amount of time trying to dry your hair as much as possible. You made the right call, a hot shower helps a lot with anxiety. You leave the bathroom and rummage through your bag for the most comfortable pair of shorts and shirt you own. You notice you're a bit shaky and sore from the night before, but it's nothing you can't handle. As soon as you're dressed and your hair is brushed enough to be detangled, you consider yourself put together enough. Nothing wrong with a lax day for laundry and lounging about.

You grab the towels from the bathroom; the sheets, blanket, and pillowcases off the bed; your clothes you found in the corner of the room; a bloody old towel from the kitchenette; and a small pile of your dirty clothing from the past couple days and wrap them together in the comforter, dragging the giant makeshift bag of dirty laundry down the quiet hall into the laundry room. It seems like the trios match was as violent throughout as the ending was--there is not a soul in the hallway, meaning the infirmary must still be quite full. The only Legends you know are back from the match are the winners--Revenant, Wattson, and Wraith--as well as Pathfinder. That makes sense, after all Pathfinder just needs some repairs to be good as new since he's a MRVN, which can be performed hours after any match.

The laundry room has only one dryer running, echoing a mundane hum in the large room with the uncanny beat of the contents turning over repeatedly. You find a few washing machines in the far corner of the room and start separating the delicate items from the colors from the bleach-worthy whites. Thankfully, all the blood-soaked towels were once white, so they get a washing machine all their own along with the sheets. You pull the detergents and bleach out of the cabinet and start over-soaping all the loads, setting the timers to start each machine as they fill with hot water. Steam starts pouring into the room: commercial-quality washing machines are able to use tons of near-boiling water to sanitize anything inside of them. The room's vent fans kick in to try to keep the room's humidity low, but the fans will definitely struggle to keep up.

The door to the laundry room opens and Sherry shuffles in, bags under her eyes and likely hungover from a night of celebrating Wattson's victory. She's too foggy to notice you, so you shuffle over to her.

"Hey, Sherry! Drink too much last night?" You chime, Sherry weakly holding her head.

"Ugh, yes. And that stupid pizza didn't help. It was so perfectly greasy that I couldn't feel how drunk I was getting." She moans, making her way over to the only running dryer.

"So, this is all Revenant's fault then?"

"Absolutely, you and your stupid metal man always conspire to make me worry or drink myself into a stupor because of good pizza." She manages to put just a little sarcastic tone to her voice, but is clearly struggling through her headache. "So, why aren't you hungover? After what I saw yesterday, I was sure you'd bully Revenant into a drinking contest until he tied you to the ceiling vent."

You chuckle, it sounds almost too wild to be accurate, but you've learned that testing Revenant's limits always leads to the unexpected. Sherry continues, a sudden glint showing in her eye.

"So, since you didn't drink to celebrate, then you obviously must have--" 

"Sherry--!" You try to shout over her, knowing exactly where she's going with this.

A devilish look creeps across Sherry's face, almost wiping out her hungover grimace. She dashes away from you and towards the running washing machines, leaving you stunned just long enough that you can never hope to catch her. She throws the lids open of all three, pouring steam into the room and all over her face, but she doesn't wince at all. The hot steam almost seems to invigorate her more.

"Sheets! I fucking knew it!" She laughs maniacally, her face red and moist from shoving her face in the billowing plume of vapor. She slams the lids shut, letting them clang loudly as the agitators begin to whir back to life after being interrupted. "You did it! You finally did it!" She scurries back to you with the energy and erratic movements of a cockroach, finally reaching you to shove her finger against the tip of your nose. Her wicked grin is now in full form, only enhanced by the deep purple hues under her eyes.

"Sherry, it's not that big of a--" You start, trying to be honest but not let her go where she's definitely going.

"Ohohoho, yes it is! This is proof that you can move past your assault! It's huge! It means you're working past your traumas!" Her excitement makes her sound much louder than she actually is. "And it makes me feel so much better about this whole fling you're having, since Revenant was understanding of it all." She twirls away with her arms outstretched, as if to praise some unseen angels.

"Sherry, he doesn't know." You mumble half-heartedly, hoping she might ignore you. She whips her head back in a fury, which must hurt with her hangover.

"You didn't tell him anything?!" Now she's loud. "What were you thinking?! I get that you don't need to tell just anyone, but don't you think you should have told him so he'd know to take it slow?!" She grabs you by your cheeks and pivots your head to meet her eyeline. "What if he did something that caused a breakdown?! He wouldn't have had any clue why, and he wouldn't have been able to help you!"

"Sherry, it's oka--"

"No it isn't! That's not fair to either of you! You can't just let someone go waltzing through a minefield because you're not sure how to tell them that you had some fucked up shit happen to you!" She pulls you into a massive hug, shoving your face into her chest per usual, since it naturally lands there due to your height difference.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to yell at you, but you seriously need to be careful." She softens, sighing as she realizes you're shivering a little. "Look, if you don't know how to tell him, I will do it for you."

"Thanks, but I think I have to do it." You sigh, recognizing she's right. "Honestly though, the only thing I remember is the rag and then waking up in the hospital." You pull away from her, ensuring she can hear you clearly.

"I know you may not think it's a big deal since you can't remember much, but what happened to you is absolutely traumatizing." Sherry wipes away a tear you didn't even feel escape your eyes. "Seriously, if you really like Revenant, you should tell him what you remember and what you know, even if it's hard." Now you feel the emotional hurt, and you hate this. Everything was fine, but now it isn't, and you're struggling to keep your composure.

"I wish I didn't have to. I don't like talking about it. I didn't even do anything wrong, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why do I have to confess it like it's some crime I committed? It's not fair!" Now you start to cry, and Sherry hugs you again, drying your tears with her shirt. She pets your head and hair, trying to comfort you in any way she can.

"Like I said, I'll do it if you need me to." She sighs while holding you tight. You don't intend to pull away until you've calmed yourself anyway. "I guess you don't really have to tell him, but I really think you should..." She trails off, trying to undo any harshness from before. You feel her face bury into your hair as she holds you closer.

You manage to pull yourself together, the despair slowly releasing its hold on you, even if the sense of doom does not. You have no idea how you're going to tell Revenant anything. How do you even start such a conversation? What if he thinks you should have told him before, like Sherry does? Will he feel betrayed? Or will he understand? The knot in your gut stiffens more.

Sherry holds you until you naturally pull away, rubbing your eyes and now looking worse than the hungover woman in front of you. Sherry looks at you with very concerned eyes that betray her wary smile, clearly trying to cheer your spirits despite her honest concerns.

"I'm sure it will be okay. After all, you managed to open up to him already in a way." Sherry sheepishly encourages you, placing her hand on your shoulder. She takes a deep breath, clearly feeling her aches again, but continues to try to bring you back from the brink of despair. "I bet you opened up real nice for him last night, didn't you?" Her teasing is missing its usual edge, but you can't help but appreciate her effort. You chuckle a little at how hard she tries.

"Didn't have to when he can do it for me." You banter back, taking pity on her weakened state.

"Your little rendezvous must have made quite the mess to have to wash the whole bed, huh?" You shouldn't have given her the inch, she fully plans to take a mile.

"Sherry, why must you do this to me?" You ask, rolling your eyes, turning away to help her with her laundry in the dryer. She could use the help, there's no way she feels well.

"Did he pull out? Is that why you needed to wash the whole bed?" She pauses as you actively try to ignore her, pulling her miscellaneous clothing from the dryer and placing it on top of the machine. Sherry doesn't quit. "Wait, if he's mechanical, can he even cu--"

"Sherry! That's gross!" You interrupt her.

"The pursuit of knowledge isn't gross!" Her energy is back now that she's found a foxhole she plans to dig into. "Anyways, you're the one who holds this forbidden knowledge! Now spill it!" She pauses, "Literally, if you must."

"For fuck's sake Sherry, why are you like this?!" You yell at her through a genuine laugh. No matter how gross that statement is, it is also really funny. You feel a little better, but the knot in your stomach remains.

She grabs a shirt out of the clumped up pile and folds it with zero care or grace. It might as well be a glorified knot. She puts it down and grabs for another, not caring at all to fold anything well. You help her fold, but actually do it correctly.

"So? Spill it!" She insists after making a few knotted clothes. You sigh, frustrated but unwilling to fight her.

"Yeah, I guess he had something in him. Probably the same slick stuff those synthetic refills are made of that you can get for prosthetics. Not that I could really tell anyway, it felt like any other liquid would in there." You mumble quietly.

"Heheheheh, gross." She giggles.

You throw the warm pair of pajama pants you're holding square in her face for that one.

• • • •

You're sitting on the bench in the laundry room, a pile of Sherry's properly folded clothes off to the side and Sherry herself snoring against your shoulder. She promised to stay with you while you wait for your laundry to finish, but you're not sure how helpful it is for her to snore in your ear and drool on your shoulder. She didn't manage to stay awake for long after she sat down with you, but this was inevitable with how hungover she is. Sometimes it really is best to sleep it off whenever possible, although you worry about her hydration. You'll wake her up if you really need to move, and then you'll get her a sports drink or something when you do.

At this point you've moved your laundry into a dryer. The commercial grade washing machines are insanely fast, but drying can only work so quickly. You might be here for a bit, whether you like it or not. Properly folding all of Sherry's clothes kept you occupied for a little while, but now all you have left to keep you company are your thoughts and the sounds of Sherry's snores.

You wonder to yourself why you're so worried over talking about your past with Revenant. You've been dismissive of it this whole time, but to be fair he has never pressed you on it either. You've told him you were homeless and used to date one of the other women in the shelter, but you didn't tell him that she eventually found a way out of poverty. You had to break up with her so she could move on. You didn't fully explain that your past relationship was so you could always stick together and watch out for each other. You definitely didn't tell him how you ended up homeless in the first place, and certainly not what happened to you after the breakup. In truth, you don't want to talk about it. You don't like being a victim of circumstance, modern societal failures, and a criminal underbelly that intentionally preys on people like you. Everyone who's unfortunate enough to be born into this cybernetic hellscape has a story or two that could curdle blood, and you're no different. Heck, you're sure Revenant has plenty too.

The fact of the matter is, you're alive and able to tell the tales of your past, which is better than the slew of victims, predators, and petty criminals alike that are missing or buried in shallow graves. It almost feels disrespectful to the slew of dead and abandoned individuals to complain since you've survived and gotten somewhere better. There's no way you can deny that you've won the jackpot by getting to work for the Apex Games, let alone getting hired and getting so close to one of the Legends themselves. Who are you to complain? You know that feeling shame for getting out of your situation isn't how you should feel--after all, everyone should have a right to talk about their past and experiences--but you can't shake the feeling of survivor's guilt that ebbs away at you.

You put your arm around Sherry and rub her opposite shoulder, but she doesn't wake up. She's really the reason you're out of the trenches of modern society at all. She secured you this job which gave you everything you could need, rent free. The tips from the Legends have let you save up money to escape when this opportunity falls through. Even moreso, Sherry didn't drop the offer for the job when you were hospitalized; in fact, she doubled down on making sure you got the position. You have no idea how much harder she had to work to get you here while you recovered for months, and you've always been afraid to ask. You almost don't want to know the debt you owe her, since you'd spend your whole life trying to pay her back. Sherry probably wouldn't want you to do that either; she's just so happy to have someone she can treat like a sister again.

The door to the laundry room opens again, snapping you out of you pondering.

"Skinsuit! There you are! I've been looking for you." Revenant swiftly makes his way over to you. He's holding a plastic bag, clearly with something inside. He towers over you, looking down at you and the drooling sloth latched to your side.

"Oh, sorry, I was just doing laundry." You mumble, caught in his bright, LED eyes.

"Skinsuit." He pauses, likely seeing your blank stare. You take a moment to come out of your adoring trance, shaking your head a little to clear your thoughts.

"Sorry, what's wrong?"

"We need to talk." The knot in your stomach falls deeper and yanks your gut down with it. Those are the worst words in the world, and the catastrophic thoughts in your head immediately start to wind up. Before you can even finish processing your thoughts, Revenant has picked Sherry up and off of you, laying her down on the bench. She doesn't even stir, she just snores louder now that she's lying flat. Revenant grabs your wrist and hoists you to your feet. "Come, now." His voice is so foreboding.

"Wait, the laundry isn't done yet." You pull back, resisting his grasp on you. You don't want to confront whatever he's upset about. It could be anything, and you just don't want to hear whatever words will inevitably hurt you.

Revenant doesn't release your wrist, but he grips it harder, forcing you forward and closer to him.

"I'm not asking." His eyes are terrifying points, the most intense look he can give, and he's staring straight at you. "Come. Now."

He doesn't give you time to even step forward before he starts dragging you. You trip over your feet as you try to regain your balance. He takes you out of the room and down the long hallways.

You panic. What the hell did you do? Does he regret last night? Did you accidentally hurt or insult him? What on earth does he want to talk to you about? Is he going to fire you and treat you like a nobody again? How could you possibly still work here if he cuts ties? You'll be traumatized every time you see him. What the hell did you do?

He drags you into his room. You could throw up you're so stressed. He drags you to the bare mattress and flings you down onto it. You try to fall into a sitting position, but fail and roll onto your back. He's standing over you, the intense look still hardened on his visage. He throws the bag to the side, its contents smacking the side table hard.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" You practically cry, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. You hold your hands in front of you instinctively. He's breathing so rapidly, he must be livid. What the hell did you do?

"Skinsuit." His voice isn't angry, his heavy and rapid breathing isn't rage. He's clearly upset, but not enraged at you. He almost sounds sad. "Who tried to kill you?"

You hold your breath, staring at him. Time passes, but you don't know how to answer. Finally, Revenant hunches forward to get closer to you, slipping a claw under your shirt and against your abdomen.

"This isn't a surgical scar. This is a stab wound from a kitchen knife." He sounds calm again, but you're still too locked up to answer him. "I wasn't sure until I saw the other four scars."

His hands glide to another place on your abdomen on the opposite side, then to an area of your lower rib cage, a second under your breast, and one near your clavicle. He brushes each one carefully before pulling you up into a sitting position to meet his eyes.

"What happened?" His face is right in front of you. You didn't realize this is how you were going to have to tell him, let alone that the scars are what he'd latch on to. He sighs, not getting a word out of you yet.

He stands up and sits down next to you on the side of the bed. He's so damn heavy that he creates a pit in the mattress that sucks you towards him. You land against his arm, which wraps around your back and holds you close.

"Don't panic, I just want to know what happened." He states, keeping as monotone as possible. You can sense that he's actually quite upset still, but is likely trying to make sure you don't feel like the target of his ire.

You're still having trouble reigning in all the anxiety, catastrophic thoughts, depressed ideations, and traumatized fear to yourself. If you speak now, nothing is going to make sense and you might start to cry instead. His hold is reassuring, but it's not enough to stop your brain from running on all threads against your will. You feel yourself shaking against his metal frame, trying to come up with an extra bit of bandwidth to talk, but unable to muster any.

You hear him sigh as he notices you struggling. He pulls you further into the gravity sink he's created in the mattress edge and leans into you, intentionally rattling his artificial lung pumps in your ear. He gives you a few minutes to try to gather yourself before he decides to intercede.

He holds your chin and forces you to face him. His LED eyes are bright and much more relaxed than before, and the sight of him calms you down quite a bit. You almost forget what you are even thinking about; only a single, lucid line of thought still runs in your head. Your shuddering stops, and you feel clear enough to speak again. You take a deep breath, and you let yourself speak.

"Right after my ex and I went our separate ways and I met Sherry, I would walk between here and the homeless shelter so I could keep on top of getting this job." You lower your head to look away, so Revenant withdraws his hand from your chin. "I guess some gang was watching me and saw an opening one night. I got grabbed from behind and they put a rag on my face, but when I went to scream I woke up in the ICU instead." You pause. "I don't remember anything, but they told me I had been--"

"You don't have to say it." Revenant interrupts before your voice cracks from the thought. You sigh, grateful for the reprieve.

"I guess they decided to kill me and dump me in a ditch out in the Dust, probably hoping a pack of prowlers would destroy the evidence." Your voice tremolos as you struggle to put together experiences you don't remember. "They nearly succeeded. I almost bled out in the ditch, but a Hammond employee found me on his way home from a late night at the office and got me to a hospital." You feel numb, but your voice betrays you. "They destroyed one of my lungs, managed to slit open my digestive tract in a few places, barely missed both my jugular and subclavian veins at once, and hit me directly in the liver and popped one of my kidneys. I should have died."

You sit there for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Revenant respects the silence and waits for you to continue.

"The Hammond employee who found me donated a bunch of their prototyped synthetic organs to replace mine. One of my lungs, one of my kidneys, and my liver are Hammond prototypes of the ones currently on the market. I also have some of their experimental silicone meshes holding together the digestive tract in the multiple places it was sliced open. I don't think I would have recovered without them."

"How are they holding up?" Revenant asks, carefully pushing his hand against your chest on the side with the artificial lung.

"I haven't noticed any problems, not to say that I know what that would feel like." You place your hand over his, gently touching the Hammond Robotics logo etched into the plate on the back of his hand. It has giant gashes in it, as if he's tried to scratch it off at some point. If this is a new chassis, he must have scratched it out very recently.

"So they used you as a guinea pig for their prototypes?" Revenant growls. "Typical."

"I never thought about it like that. It's not like I could afford synthetics anyway, let alone real ones. It felt like a blessing." You run your fingers over each jagged metal scratch on his metal plates carefully. "I would have died if Hammond hadn't donated them."

"Not to scare you, but be careful with the deals you make with those devils." Revenant's hand pushes harder into your chest.

"I didn't make any deals, I wasn't even asked. They just put them in and sewed me up." You mumble, concerned by his apparent disgust for his own manufacturer.

"Of course they didn't even ask. Silly me." His voice is low and dripping with hatred. You start to pull away from him in fear, but he notices and pulls you back gently. He wraps his arms around you completely and his chin rests on your head. You're not going anywhere at this point. "I'm not angry with you. You're a victim in all this." His voice is softer, but it's a ruse. His lungs are labored with rage and you can feel the tension in his body. You let the silence fall for a moment.

"Revenant, are you okay?" You whimper from under his grasp, unsure of yourself. You feel his fingers turn to points and grip you, but carefully angled not to puncture you.

"I have a lot of work to do." His voice is low and hateful again, his words equally as ominous. His voice jumps back to something softer to address you. "Do you remember anything about the men who chloroformed you? Or when it happened?"

"I'm sorry, it's all really fuzzy." You shake your head a little, in case he can't hear your quiet whisper. He growls, clearly caught up in his thoughts, determined to find a way to narrow down his search. "Does it really matter?" You ask, unsure of what he plans to do.

"Yes, it's important." He huffs for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm going to give you the entrails of every punk who violated you as a gift, and I'm going to pry Hammond's claws off of you before it's too late."

"Wait, you don't have to--"

"You used up your pardon, skinsuit. Now, I am the sole judge, jury, and executioner in this case." He sounds so livid, you can't help but shrink under him and hope none of his wrath is aimed in your direction.

The silence falls again, spare for his blood curdling huffs of rage. He slowly calms himself, likely with some kind of plan on what to do.

"Skinsuit, did they kit you when you were at the hospital?"

"Of course, but there's not a universal DNA database of criminals in the Outlands, assuming it was even entered into one at all. As a gang they might have connections. Either way, it didn't amount to anything. Plus, there was a lot of different DNA..." You trail off, shuddering at your own words and trying not to vomit up the pit in your stomach. Revenant grips you tightly in response to your quivering.

"Skinsuit, I need you to listen to me. I will handle this. I don't want you to worry about it anymore." His voice is determined and steadfast.

"I wasn't worried about it before, I just didn't know how I was going to tell you any of this." You manage to get out as you choke back stressful tears. "I was worried you'd be upset that I didn't tell you earlier."

He locks eyes with you from above, but you avert yours. His LEDs are bright enough that you know he's staring at you, trying to gauge your emotional state. Sure, maybe you are upset by the whole ordeal. Maybe it is why you struggle so much with despair. Maybe it is the event that broke you emotionally. But you don't want to dredge it up any more than you have to. It's hard enough telling him this, why does he need to make it into a mission?

"Your heart rate is spiking." You hear him dryly state. You cower deeper into his frame. "Don't be so nervous, like I said, I'll handle it from here."

Something in your head pops and you feel the unmistakable taste and heat of anger overtake you. Mania shows up for a mere few moments, in an attempt to bring righteous indignation to the fray.

"Handle what?! It's not like you can just undo what happened! What's the point? Just pretend like I didn't say anything!" You pull away from him and stand up, but he holds onto your wrist, only allowing you to get arm's length from him. "You can't just assassinate every problem into oblivion! It doesn't work like that!" You're staring down a simulacrum that has single handedly spilt more blood than in all the people you've met in your lifetime, but for this rage induced moment, you don't care. "Heck, if you really want to erase the problem, kill me! Because then nobody has to deal with it! That's what was supposed to happen! But I just had to get lucky at the worst time imaginable!" Your lungs empty out from yelling.

He reels back in shock, releasing your wrist. You have nowhere to go, so you just hover there, staring him down. In this fleeting moment, you have bested the Revenant. You are in charge, but only for a mere moment in time. The anger peters out and sadness overwhelms you in its place. Tears start flowing before you even start to vocalize your pain. The moment has ended. You hurriedly collapse to your knees on the floor and bury your face in your hands, trying to hide yourself as you cry. You hate it when this happens. Immediately after you get angry enough to snap, you regret everything and collapse into a sobbing mess. Every time. You just openly confessed you wish you had died instead. You asked Revenant to kill you instead. On top of it all, now you're crying on the floor like you didn't just say something heinous to him.

You gasp for air between your desperate attempts to suppress your cries, which leak out as sorrowful whimpers instead. You feel his palm on your head, but you can't bear to look up at him. He gives you a moment, possibly hoping you will collect yourself, but he gives up quickly. He kneels down beside you and you hear the clangs of his scarf straps coming loose. You feel his scarf wrap around your face like a hood, absorbing the wayward tears and helping hide your face. He bunches up the extra scarf around your shoulders and loosely ties the buckled straps to hold it to you. He reaches into the hood and holds your hands that are pressed against your face, intentionally fluttering his fingers around yours to wipe away tears. He withdraws, wraps his arms underneath you, and lifts you in his arms. He doesn't even struggle to lift you, remaining completely unwavering.

You feel him carry you out of the room and down the hallway, back towards the laundry room. You pull his scarf completely over your face, trying to calm your cries to be as quiet as possible. Your labored breathing is the only audible indicator of your tears now. You feel his arms push up against the swinging door to the laundry room before feeling the humidity difference wash over you as he enters. You hear the sound of Sherry still snoring on the bench. Revenant carries you towards the back of the room and gently places you on one of the still-warm dryers. You feel him open the front-loading door on the dryer and pull out the load of laundry, doing the same to the second dryer next to you. As the door clicks shut, you hear Sherry stir and wake up, moaning a little in protest.

"Oh, hey, is she okay?" She sleepily addresses Revenant.

"She needs time." A fairly honest dodge, but not really an answer to her question.

"I guess she told you while I was out, huh?" Sherry sighs, yawning afterwards. Revenant stops moving next to you for a moment.

"You knew?" He doesn't sound mad, simply intrigued.

"Of course, I lied and told them I was her biological sister so I could get into the hospital and stay with her." Sherry sounds sad, reflecting on it. "I had no idea she walked alone between here and the shelter. Had I known, I would have called a cab or just done the interviews over the phone..." She trails off, regaining her composure. "After that, I fudged everything to get her this job so she could escape that life."

"Do you remember any details of that night?" Revenant asks with piqued intrigue.

"Of course, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to." You rarely hear Sherry sound so deep in self-shame. You wish she would accept that it wasn't her fault, but you also know that's easier said than done.

"I'll speak to you about it later, then." You jump a little as his hand caresses your arm. You're too withdrawn in his scarf to see anything, so you have no warning when he touches you. Your startled wince doesn't seem to bother him, as he locks his arm around yours, allowing him to continue working with his hands. He must be folding some of the laundry, or at least trying. You can't imagine he's well-versed in the practice.

"You're going to try to find those guys?" Some hope returns to Sherry's voice.

"I will." He doesn't hesitate and he has no doubts. As an assassin he must have some sleuthing skills. He's more than proven himself to be clever, at the least. You still don't want him to bother, though. It doesn't fix what happened, but maybe it could save someone else, at the least.

"Hey! What the hell?" You hear Revenant shout as he withdraws his arm from you and staggers backwards. You pull your face out of the scarf to see Sherry hugging a very confused Revenant.

"Eviscerate them and hang them by their fucking entrails." Sherry mumbles before letting go, and turning to you. "I hope you don't mind, he earned it." She smiles through her exhausted expression, giving you a quick hug too. She pulls away and shuffles to her folded stack of laundry, picking it up and making her way out of the room. Revenant watches her exit with concentrated attention before turning to you.

"Never thought I'd have a second idiot asking me for a favor." He huffs, stepping back over to you. He reaches into the scarf and holds your cheek for a moment, locking eyes with you. "No worries though, you're my first and favorite idiot." His intense determination has melted back down to a teasing vitriol. You let your head tilt into his palm approvingly, letting some wayward tears drip onto him.

He pulls his hand back slowly, intentionally tugging the scarf back to cover your face so you can't see. You're startled when you feel a pile of warm, clean laundry land in your lap.

"Hold this." You hear him instruct as you feel him pick you back up. You wrap your arms around the pile of sheets, clothes, and towels, doing your best to prevent any from falling out of your grip. He carries you, buried in a pile of warm laundry, all the way back to the room before lightly dropping you onto the bare mattress. You let the laundry bury you, enjoying the warmth.

"Why did I even try to fold anything...?" You hear Revenant mumble as he reaches in and pulls you upright, undoing his scarf from you. You let him pull it off of you, but don't bother to watch him put it back on himself. You prefer to bury yourself back in the warm pile of clothing, messing them up further. You hear his buckles lock down on his chassis as he walks away. "I have some leads to follow up on, stay there until I find you a babysitter." The door slams before you can sit up and ask him what he means. He's already gone. He can disappear as quickly as he can appear, climbing walls and collapsing himself into vents and nooks. Even though he used the door this time, it never ceases to scare you a little.

You wish he would just stay around and not leave. Considering how hard it was to even explain what exactly happened to you when you were attacked, you had hoped he would realize being left alone is the worst possible thing. Although, maybe he does realize this, and is getting Sherry to stay with you. Still, you'd rather it be him. It feels like a cop out for him to just leave you with her, but maybe he's also dealing with some emotions too. Unfortunately, you're worried he thinks he can somehow undo everything that happened to you with a bloodbath of vengeance.

You sigh, getting up and looking at the disheveled pile of laundry. You begin to toss your wads of clothing into your duffel bag. No point in folding any of it, it's not like you own anything nice. As you pick through, some appear to be partially folded but his claws had poked some holes in them. Well, at least it's all cheap and replaceable. You toss them into the bag anyway, right now you don't have time to get new ones. You fold the towels and place them in the bathroom, nicely folded and ready to be used again. You take the one odd rag to the kitchenette, finding the drawer full of its siblings and placing it nicely.

Finally, you make the bed. It's an annoying and cumbersome process when you're working alone--the beds here are so big you have to do laps around it to get all the sheets and blanket right. However, you refuse to cut corners, and get it done pretty quickly. The majority of your past few years here have been focused on housekeeping, so you consider yourself quite adept and efficient at it. After throwing on the pillowcases and making a small mound of plush pillows to jump on later, you consider it done.

With nothing left to do, you decide to jump on the pillow mound early, burying yourself in it.

Almost as soon as you get comfortable, the door swings back open.

"Skinsuit! Meet your friend for the day!" Revenant sounds oddly sadistic, but why?

You turn around to meet eyes with a single, red, optical bulb.

"Hello, new friend! I'm Pathfinder, and I am a MRVN!" He waves at you as if you're not a mere few yards away. You actually already know Pathfinder, but he tends to forget who you are regularly. Maybe it's from getting damaged in the Apex Games? Or perhaps it's since he's only ever met you in passing before. After all, there's never been a good reason for him to remember you until now. "Very nice to meet you, Skinsuit!"

Revenant fights back a chortle as Pathfinder gets your name so morbidly wrong. You have no reason to correct him, though, after all you never had parents to give you a real name. You've been trying on different names for decades. 'Skinsuit' just seems to fit this stage of your life, weirdly enough.

"After our misunderstanding yesterday, I decided to make it up to him by introducing you two." Revenant explains to you, his hands gesturing sarcastically. Misunderstanding is one way to put it. "He's going to make sure you don't hurt, maim, kill, or otherwise damage yourself while I'm gone."

"Yes! I don't let friends do any of those things!" Pathfinder pipes up excitedly, probably not even realizing the subtext of what Revenant is implying.

Revenant must be holding on to your self-destructive rant from earlier. That explains why he's keeping some distance. You wish you could take it back, but words don't work like that. You still can't ignore it and let it stand, though.

"Rev, I'm sorry." You blurt out, not caring what Pathfinder might think. Revenant locks eyes with you for a moment, looking slightly less on-edge than before, but still quite tense. His pause doesn't last long, as his manipulative performance must go on for Pathfinder.

"There's nothing to apologize for. " He shrugs with heavy exaggeration, even though he clearly knows what you're referring to. "Just don't be a liability." He turns to Pathfinder, who has been listening intently. "Try to keep her safe, you wouldn't want to get me in trouble if she gets hurt, would you?"

"Absolutely not, brother!" He salutes, seemingly aloof to the tension in the air.

With that, Revenant disappears behind the closing door and is gone again.

Cool, more metal friends you didn't ask for. Well, the first one went well, maybe this won't be so bad.

"You said the right thing." Pathfinder suddenly sounds more serious, even if it still has an unmistakable twinge of optimism. "He seemed upset. I think you made him feel better."

"Wait, you saw through that?" You're dumbfounded, what is with all the perceptive robots in this place?

"He always acts like that for me, but I don't mind. He only does it for me, so we must be like brothers!" Okay, maybe he's not working with a perfectly clear perspective, but still. "And he wouldn't try to get me to watch you if he didn't value you, so I will do this as a favor to him." The screen on his chest emotes a heart-eyed smiling face. "He was very upset when he thought I had figured out his secret, so you must be a very good friend to be a secret friend!"

"Wait, you saw me yesterday?" Is this MRVN a genius and pretending to be unassuming, or somehow a perfectly naïve clairvoyant? He's able to hide his power of perception from Revenant, so he can't be stupid.

"Of course! I have sensors that pick up on heat and vital signs. But you were clearly hiding, so I did not want to ruin your fun."

Fun? Oh, he's so perfectly naïve, or you're falling for a perfectly executed feign. Whichever it is, Pathfinder is a little scary in the exact opposite manner that Revenant is. Revenant may be a homicidal simulacrum with deeply human roots, but his intentions are fairly obvious and any malice he has is clear cut and concise. Pathfinder is much more confusing, clearly more intelligent than he lets on, but so perfectly optimistic that he comes off as non-threatening. Despite that impression, you've seen Pathfinder take down some of the scariest Legends over the years, often with a near-condescending air of playful joy while doing so. When Revenant kills, the bloodlust is sensible, but playfulness? It's somehow scarier.

"Are you okay, friend? You seem nervous. Did I say something bad?" His emote shows a distressed face.

"Sorry, I just get caught up in thought sometimes. What did you want to do for fun?" You figure he won't hurt you, even if you can't completely figure him out.

"Well, what do you and Revenant usually do for fun?" His emote brightens into a smile again as you grimace internally. He's either wholly unaware or viscously teasing you.

"How about we do something else? Let's..." You think, what would be nice to do? You're a bit hard pressed to come up with anything fun.

"We could bring flowers to people in the infirmary!" He pipes up happily. It's not a bad idea, really.

"Sure! I actually wanted to visit the second place Legends, if that's okay. Fuse is so nice and so is Bloodhound. Caustic... probably won't mind." You've never really met Caustic, but you know he has a reputation for being grumpy.

• • • •

You walk out into the hidden atrium behind Pathfinder's room. You knew this was here, but nobody ever comes out here to your knowledge. The doors lock if you're not careful to keep them open, so the risk of being locked outside tends to lead most to avoid the area entirely, even though it connects two wings more efficiently than the hallways.

It's full of flowers of all types, sizes, and colors. The arrangement is chaotic and seemingly random, but the lusciousness of the plants more than makes up for it. The ground flowers are blooming and have various bee species hovering around, seemingly at peace with one another. There are a few small trees reaching around eight or nine feet high and giving a little shade. One has flowers, another has berries, and yet another has some kind of unripe fruit. It's truly breathtaking, and completely undisturbed after years of being left alone by the other Legends.

"You did all this?" You ask aloud, completely in awe of the secret oasis.

"Yes! Do you like it? We can pick some flowers from here!" Pathfinder seems especially happy to be sharing this with someone.

"It's beautiful." You mutter, still captivated by how mythical this little cut of land feels.

"Thank you! I have been meaning to show Revenant, but he will never chase me this far." Pathfinder shuffles over to an area and pulls up Revenant's abandoned bovine skull from the last match with a giant chipped gash in the forehead. He's filled in the bottom and red rose buds have been replanted in the eye holes. A large snail is making its way around the gash with its mossy shell, making for an artistic arrangement. "I am really proud of this one. I felt bad his new suit was destroyed, so I wanted to keep a part of it for him. Once the roses grow, it will look really nice!"

You're impressed. Revenant seems to have some kind of distaste for Pathfinder, and you're beginning to understand why. Pathfinder is scary. He's terrifyingly kind. If your guard isn't up at all times, he will reach a deep part of you and break down your defenses in an instant. When the entirety of the Outlands treats people as disposable assets and teaches everyone to trust as few people as possible, this MRVN will treat anyone like they truly matter, like they are truly cared for, and like they are capable of great things. It's dangerous to believe those things in this universe. That's how you get victimized, abandoned, and let down. Yet, this MRVN manages to hold on to these beliefs about himself and others, and he isn't broken, dead, or an abandoned shell.

Revenant, like you, can't adhere to those beliefs. The universe has spoken, and it says otherwise. Yet, it feels nice to indulge in the feeling of mattering, even if only for a few hours. Is that why he chose Pathfinder? Of course, Pathfinder is the living opposite of a suicidal ideation, after all. Maybe Revenant knew that.

"Stupid, clever jerk." You mumble out loud.

"Me?" Pathfinder has a confused emote as he points to himself.

"Oh, sorry, no, I meant someone else." You pause, switching subjects. "It's really nice of you to reuse his favorite chassis like this. I think it's really pretty, even if he never sees it."

"Thank you, friend!" His happy emote is back, and he waves you over to another area. "Have you seen this chassis? It's my favorite!"

You walk over and follow him to see a rounded red, purple, and white chestplate that has been cracked and shattered, but loosely put back together. It has the word "Thunder" and the number "81" written on it, as well as a unique mask attached to it. This mask doesn't look like any skull you've seen before, human or otherwise, but still has a bony texture. It appears to have hooks near the chin, perhaps where it was attached to the exoskeleton, as well as unusual leather bags under the eyes. It looks perpetually tired and angry, but you definitely can't say you've seen him wear this before. The chestplate is closed over an old wood stump and beautiful mushrooms have sprung to life in the darkness and reached beyond the chassis to meet the light. His mask has a particularly colorful fungus growing on it, happily latching onto the porous material more easily than the chestplate. It's gorgeous, but you wish you could see this chassis on him too.

"No, I've never seen this one before... I haven't seen him wear it in the games either. What is it?" You ask, curious why he would have such an odd chassis in his repertoire.

"He uses it when we spar! I don't think he uses it much otherwise."

"You two spar?" You're surprised. Maybe Revenant also finds excuses to dabble in the feeling of mattering sometimes.

"Yes! Not too often, I think he gets frustrated that I am an excellent boxer. I have tried to let him win, but he doesn't like that." Your eyes widen. Pathfinder can outclass Revenant in a sparring match? This guy really is scary. "You should come sometime!"

You look back at the busted chassis. Was Revenant knocked out of this one with a blow from Pathfinder? You knew all MRVN are particularly sturdy and powerful, but you never really felt it until now. You're a helpless ragdoll full of easily exploitable and fatal flaws to Revenant, but you never even considered that perspective when around Pathfinder. Now you do.

"You can really beat Revenant?" You mumble aloud, not intending it as a real question.

"When we only use our fists, yes! I don't think I could beat him if he was allowed to use his stabbing hands. He is getting better though!" He doesn't acknowledge your apparent fear, simply giving a chipper answer. "Whiplash to the neck is a weak point in his design. He is learning that he can't let me land an uppercut. You should come watch sometime! I bet he would fight harder with you there!"

The thought of Pathfinder knocking out Revenant with an uppercut is unbelievable to you. You almost want to know if it's really possible.

"I will, if you're both okay with it." You look up at Pathfinder, who immediately makes a happy clapping motion.

"Yes! I look forward to it!"

"Do you have any more insider information on his other suits?" You ask, curious how many he has seen.

"He's told me about some, but I haven't seen them yet. Only some special colored versions of his normal one." He looks upwards as if to think, the emote on his screen changing to match. You've seen some of the other colors in past games, but never in person. You hope he has a lot of different suits, especially since they tend to alter his personality a little. You wonder what his sparring suit does to him.

"We are here to visit Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic!" Pathfinder chirps, flashing his ID badge. You place yours on the counter as well, as the receptionist scans them both. You know the receptionist, Carol's been here a long time, and she's used to seeing volunteers come through to visit the Legends.

"Let's pick some flowers for the others, then maybe we can talk some more." You want to make sure you get to see the second place team, knowing the extent of their injuries is well beyond simple gunshots wounds. Revenant had run Caustic and Fuse through completely, and probably broke many of Bloodhound's bones. You're a little worried for all of them.

• • • •

You and Pathfinder approach the receptionist in the infirmary wing, holding three unique bunches of flowers. You couldn't find vases, so they're propped up in glass soda bottles filled with water. It may be a cheap alternative to a proper vase, but the flower quality makes up for it.

She starts to laugh after scanning your badge.

"Little Skinsuit? Is that what you're going by now?" She prods. "Also, I didn't know Revenant liked anyone enough to have a direct hire. I guess all that dedication to the grump-machine paid off, huh? Congrats!" She's very nice, and doesn't pry further than that.

"I'm not going to tell Revenant what not to call me, that would be asking for trouble. But thank you! It only took four seasons and figuring out his favorite liquor." You take your ID back.

"Ha! Leave it to you to make your way up in the world through the craziest means possible. Revenant still scares the heck out of me. Today was the first time I've ever seen him visit anyone, though. Maybe he's softening up." She spins a little in her chair thinking about it. "Anyway, tell Sherry I said 'hi' when you see her next!"

"Will do! Thanks Carol!" You chime back, walking past the desk with your arms full of bouquets, Pathfinder following behind. Why would Revenant have come by here earlier? That's very odd.

As you turn the corner, you see the names of the currently admitted Legends on each of the doorways. There are not many left, it seems like most were discharged this afternoon. Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic are all still here though.

Caustic's room is the closest, but you'd rather wait to deal with him last. You haven't met him, and those who have aren't usually treated well apparently. He almost has as bad of a reputation as Revenant, but Sherry has always been able to interact with him reasonably. She told you it had something to do with being close to Wattson, but that doesn't make much sense to you.

"Let's see Fuse first." You say, carefully making your way to Fuse's door. You knock lightly before you hear his booming voice welcome you.

"Door's unlocked, mate!" He barely sounds injured. As you open the door, you see Fuse grinning widely and sitting upright in bed. He's in a hospital gown, chest exposed to reveal a massive but sewed up and sealed wound. "Oy, you brought me flowers! How kind of ya." He's absolutely beaming for someone with a massive hole in his chest.

"Sorry we came so late in the afternoon, I just wanted to visit and make sure you were okay." You fumble over your words, not sure how else to admit you were worried about him and the others. Let alone that it's partially an apology for Revenant absolutely skewering him.

"Not a problem, I see you brought a different metal fellow with ya t'day." He motions to a table beside him, where you place the flowers.

"Good to see you again Fuse, I am glad to see you are recovering well." Pathfinder chirps, forever positive.

"So, sheila, how is the angry feller?" Right, he knows about you and Revenant.

"He's, uh, under some stress, but nothing he can't handle, I'm sure." You're not sure how else to answer. Saying he's fine is too obvious of a lie, but you don't want to be too specific either.

"Really? Who knew? The red rage actually has problems like the rest of us." He chuckles. Normally you wouldn't think much of his statement, but Fuse is the type to try to get anyone to warm up to him, Revenant being no exception. Perhaps you've said too much.

"Yes! Which is why I'm taking care of his secret friend for him! She's not allowed to be a liability!" Pathfinder gently pats your shoulder. Why did he have to say that? Fuse catches sight of your dejected look and laughs harder, gripping his chest to steady the pain. Pathfinder takes his laughter as some kind of endorsement, while you hang your head in embarrassment. Fuse catches his breath finally.

"No worries sheila, I won't tell a soul. You may have to keep that a bit more under wraps though, Pathy." Fuse says through labored breaths. That laugh must have hurt. Pathfinder cocks his head in confusion. "I think the point of having a 'secret friend' is to keep them a secret, not to tell everyone!"

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Pathfinder realizes his mistake, a blue sad face appearing on his screen.

"It's okay, Pathfinder, Fuse actually already knew." You pat him on the arm in reassurance.

"Yeah, no worries mate. Just be a little more careful." His smile erases any embarrassment you feel. "Well, I'll let ya make your other rounds, I'm gonna turn in for the night." Fuse waves goodbye to you both as you excuse yourselves.

You make your way across the hall to the room labelled for Bloodhound. You lightly knock, and a nurse opens the door carefully for you. You slip in quietly and see Bloodhound lying on their back, their head facing your direction. You see their eyes dart in your direction, no longer buried under their usual goggles. Their head is well-wrapped in gauze, and their breathing mask is replaced with a hospital oxygen mask. You can finally see their eyes, which are filled with a softness you don't usually see.

Artur is on a large perch in the corner of the room, surprisingly. Bloodhound likely had to fight to get Artur into the infirmary at some point, since the perch almost looks to be a permanent installment now. Artur coos, watching the room carefully.

"Ah, the apprentice and Pathfinder." They address you both, but don't sit up. They likely aren't able to in this state.

You look to the nurse and offer her the flowers, not sure if you can approach Bloodhound at all. She takes the vase and puts it on a table a short ways from them, but well within their eyesight. Bloodhound seems enamored by the flowers, but also confused by their presence for a few moments.

"Ah, right, flowers are a common gift to the injured." They say to themself before turning to you both. "Your well wishes are accepted graciously. May the Allfather bless you in return."

You bow instinctively, not wanting to speak too loudly in the quiet room. Pathfinder notices and attempts to do the same, but starts to lose his balance and barely recovers. Once you right yourself, you break the silence for a mere moment.

"Get well soon, Bloodhound. Please don't..." You trail off, not sure where you were going. Die? Unlikely. Hurt? They're already hurt. Hate Revenant? They're not the type. "... don't be a stranger." You recover a little, but you're sure you're coming off awkwardly.

Bloodhound smiles with their eyes, and you feel much better, quietly slipping back out the door. Pathfinder follows, waiting for the door to close before speaking.

"I kept the secret!" He pumps his fists a little. You chuckle.

"By not talking at all. I guess it works." You pat him on the arm again. "One left, but I don't know anything about Caustic. I hope he's not as bad as they say."

Pathfinder takes the last bouquet from you and leads the way this time, apparently willing to handle the interaction himself. He knocks on the door and opens it, revealing a growling Caustic on the other side, sitting upright in bed and writing in a notebook. His usual mask is switched for an oxygen mask, and he's in a hospital garb that is far too large for him.

"Greetings, doctor! I brought you flowers!" Pathfinder chirps happily, ignoring Caustic's scowl.

"I don't want flowers. I already had to answer the simulacrum's idiotic questions, why are you bothering me now?" Caustic asks angrily, averting his attention back to his notebook.

"I intentionally got you chamomile flowers, they're Wattson's favorite for tea!" Pathfinder chirps, holding the white and yellow-centered flowers up. Caustic suddenly looks up from his notebook with a softer expression, before sighing and relenting.

"Fine, put them down on the table." His voice and expression have softened, but you're not sure why. Pathfinder must know something you don't.

As Pathfinder moves to put the flowers on his table, you lose your body to hide behind. Caustic notices you, and suddenly smiles a little wickedly.

"Ah, the simulacrum's personal lapdog reveals herself." He sneers. How did he know about you? Did Revenant say something? "You have quite the science project at your beck and call. How did a little thing like you manage that?"

You're not sure how to answer, and you know your discomfort is visible on your face. Pathfinder seems to notice as well.

"You seem to be a kindred spirit, flirting with death. Makes you feel more alive, doesn't it?" He coughs a little, interrupting his train of thought. His voice returns in a much more serious tone. "I'm afraid I can't do anything more for either of you, but I'll keep you in mind if I need to get under the simulacrum's skin."

Pathfinder doesn't speak, but starts walking towards the door, gently herding you in that direction. You leave, unsure of what else to say after that. The door gently closes behind you both.

"Are you okay, friend?" Pathfinder asks.

Now late in the evening, you finally make it back to Revenant's room, bidding Pathfinder goodbye before opening the door. You're holding a single flower you picked out for Revenant, despite Pathfinder's insistence that Revenant doesn't like or accept flowers. He's tested it thoroughly, or so he claims. You're certain this one is different, though. You picked this one for him, and you picked it for a reason. As you slip through the door, Revenant stands up from the computer desk to meet you.

"Yeah, just disturbed, I guess. Let's go, it's getting late. Let me grab dinner and let's go back to your garden." You answer, not sure what Caustic meant. You'd rather spend the rest of the evening chatting about Revenant's different chassis with Pathfinder than dwelling on Caustic's cryptic words.

• • • •

"You must have had fun. You've been gone all day." He notices the flower. "Pathfinder managed to pawn one of his flowers off on you?" He scoffs, rolling his optics.

"Actually, I picked this one for you." You correct him, unsurprised by his initial rejection. He seems to tense at the realization it's a gift from you, not Pathfinder, and that he has already judged it so openly. "It's a datura flower, I thought it was fitting."

"Datura? Like the drug?" He asks, trying to ignore his previous judgement on the flower.

"Yeah, it's called the Devil's Trumpet. It's poisonous if ingested, and causes psychedelic delusions. It's legendary for giving some of the most hellish waking nightmares. Isn't that something you've said about yourself? A nightmare flower for the nightmare Apex Predator!" You finish your short speech, and he carefully takes the flower from you, staring silently at its alluring but deceptive beauty for a few moments in silence.

"Thank you." He finally says, carefully placing the makeshift vase and flower down on the computer desk. "I wanted to talk to you about something while we're at it."

"Is this about what I said earlier? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't thinking, and--"

"You wanted to die. It's okay. I understand that feeling." He takes your hand and sits you down on the bed as he takes the office chair opposite to you. "I don't want you to die, even though I am certain I will live to see the day anyway." He pauses, gathering the words he wants to say. "If you really find you cannot handle living any longer, I want you to die painlessly in my arms."

You sit there, unable to fully process what he means, or perhaps you're refusing to process it. It's hard to swallow, if your suspicion is right. He lets the pause hang before finally specifying.

"If you truly must die, I want to be the one to take your life." His head hangs, and he refuses to make further eye contact. "It will be painless, you won't be alone, and I can hold you one last time." His pain is apparent.

As soon as the words register in your head, you throw yourself to the floor and kneel under his hunched over body, trying to meet his gaze. He is unmistakably despaired, so you stand into him, hugging him as you do.

"I'm so sorry Revenant, I promise it won't come to that." You're pleading with him to trust you, but you're not sure how to convince him. "I love you, I just want to spend as much time with you as I can. I won't let it come to that."

You're pretty sure you sound desperate, but you're not sure how he'll interpret that. You are desperate to get him back from wherever his mind is. He stays limp in your arms for a few moments--long enough to concern you. His optics are still on, so he's not rebooting. He's just pondering, and somehow that's more worrying than anything.

Finally, Revenant hugs you back, standing up and lifting you off the ground. He brings you to the bed, carefully lying down in it and dragging you into an enveloping hold. He holds you tightly, but with an intensity you haven't felt before. He doesn't speak, just holds you, refusing to let go.

You lay there, unable to move and unwilling to abandon him for what feels like hours, until your consciousness starts to fade. You drift off quickly, unable to deny your exhaustion any further.

[pauls-broken-a-glass65]

ok i just saw “give my regards to broad street” for the first time and i’m SO IN LOVE WITH IT??? i’m SOOOO glad i trusted you in watching this bc it was wayyy better than what everyone said it was going to be. everyone was acting like it was a hot pile of garbage and honestly??? i pretty much loved everything about the film!!! i’m sure you can figure out who i am (*wink wink*) but MANNN i’d loooove to gush to someone about this film foreverrrrr i wish i saw it sooner!!! there’s so much i wanna gush about i swear- :’D

Hi "Anon" ;)

Sorry for the delay to reply.

Well, I'm..............glad you like it?!?!

*Happy and surprised noises*

Well, like you said, sometimes it seems like everyone hates this movie, that it's a waste of time and.............

Eh......Not quite.

(*Sorry, I love this gif he's so ah---)

Well, Paul as an actor...... he's good.

He's not like you say "Oh god, bring the Oscar to that man!", a Marlon Brandon in "The Godfather" but it's good.

People forget that in every movie he's appeared in (at least most of them), he's just being himself. He wrote the movie. He doesn't have to pretend to be Paul McCartney, he IS Paul McCartney.

He can do whatever he wants with the movie and be whoever he wants to be. He didn't make the films to please the critics, but because he knew that someone besides him would like it, even if only a few people.

Was the movie a box office failure? Yeah.

But he doesn't care about that. He had fun being in the magic universe of movies.

Perhaps the "mistake" was the moment when he released the film. People were already getting used to movies with lots of new and innovative special effects, adventures like "Indiana Jones" or maybe "Star Wars", maybe "ET", they didn't like his movie because it was a simple and light story.

There was no sex, swearing or violence. It was something for you to go out with friends or family and go to a movie with. Fun.

Even though people had been warned by him from the start, they'd waited for something they knew they wouldn't see.

Well, you can't please everyone.

Anyway......

What matters is that we love the movie. And we love him. And if in the face of all the criticism, he's happy, I'm happy.

This is one of my favorite movies! I have a hard time choosing my favorite scene or favorite song.

Speaking of songs: I love them all but my favorite (other than the classic "No More Lonely Nights") is "Ballroom Dancing".

By the way, I've lost count of how many times I've seen this scene.

"Lunch?"

"Ballroom Dancing" Paul is life❤

I mean, Look at that! That suit, that hair, that FUCKING EYELINER!!!! I will dance with him all night in that ballroom😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥰

Interesting thing: I'm completely obsessed with the way he says "Here we go!" in that scene. It's so cute <3

One of my favorite scenes is "No Values". The guitar solo, his energy, the atmosphere itself.

BUT PLEASE------------

T H A T P A R T—

My favorite part right here.

The way he says "Don't do it!"......... makes me feel something😏

I can't explain, I find something so cute and so irresistible at the same time. It's like when he yells "Closer!" in "Getting Closer" several times.

Macca, I'm dying here babe—

*Regaining breath* Eh anyway...

Maybe my favorite scene is when he walks up to the station and sits (in the cutest way ever) on the bench and thinks about his future and life, "No More Lonely Nights" scene.

I mean......

Look at this cute human being-------

I could spend HOURS seeing him thoughtful about something. He's so cute and attractive.

And I admit it: I picked up a few quirks after seeing this movie. One is every day when I get bored for the first time a day, I say:

"It's gonna be one of those days..."

Idk, I just like to imitate him saying that.

Another thing is as soon as I get to any place that has a bench, I sit like him. People look at me weird but I don't care anymore.

I know, I'm weird.

Well, in front of several scenes, I can't forget the one that takes my breath away and makes me bite my lip or sigh involuntarily.

Can we talk about this?

Or........

How incredibly beautiful he is this close-up of the camera?

Which one of the scenes where there is a close-up of the camera on his face is my favorite.

His clothes, his hair, his tired and somewhat confused and sad eyes, his lips, his calm voice, the laugh at the end of the movie (he's a kid!), the thoughtful way he drives or when his eyes become more resolute and even brilliant when he remembers where Harry went (That little "Broad Street" song is the best!), when he finds the tape!

I can spend hours talking about every detail that makes he the most handsome and cutest of all men in the world.

Don't mind me, I'm in love.

Well, my dear anon

I'm so happy to know that someone besides me likes this movie. It's a good movie despite the reviews and it's worth watching, whether it's the songs or the 80s Paul.

Thanks for my newest favorite ask ;)

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Promising Young Woman

I read the synopsis of Promising Young Woman sometime in spring 2019, right around the time it premiered at Sundance to rave reviews. I confess at the time I read it, I was angry - really angry - because I’d seen the trailer and been expecting a slick revenge thriller/black comedy  and what I read about was a very, very different kind of film. It’s hard to shake a first impression like that, but I wanted to give the film a chance to change my mind. A couple weeks after seeing it, I’m still not sure that it did, but I do think it’s an incredibly well-put-together film and one that does exactly what it intends to do, for better or worse. 

The film centers around Cassie (Carey Mulligan), a disaffected barista living with her parents in her late 20s by day, and a honey trap for predatory “nice guys” she picks up at bars when they think she’s too wasted to say no to sex by night. In a way, she’s avenging the death of her best friend, Nina, who killed herself after a horrifying sexual assault. Cassie is fixated on Nina’s death mainly because no one else seems to be - even Nina’s mother (Molly Shannon) tells Cassie to move on and live her own life, that it’s not helping anyone for her to remain in this form of arrested development and grief. But Cassie is obsessed with making those responsible for Nina’s pain, for her pain, confront their own complicity in the violence of a world that chews women like Nina up and spits them out. 

My gripe with this movie is rooted in my own discomfort at its adherence to realism. I wanted a revenge thriller as sharp as Cassie’s stiletto fuck-me pumps, I wanted a sense of catharsis at making predators like the wolves in “nice guy” clothing pay in some way for their crimes. But Cassie doesn’t engage in acts of violence - she just gives these men a stern talking to. She plays by the rules, her behavior isn’t illegal, and her tools of revenge are wigs and makeup rather than knives or guns. I love watching Cassie (and Mulligan, whose performance should absolutely earn her Best Actress) work, but am left clenching my jaw at the cost of Cassie’s endeavors and all the clever tongue-in-cheek smiley faces at the end aren’t going to make that feel better. The punishments seem so brief, fleeting - a bad dream, half remembered upon waking. In fact, her revenge on the women involved in Nina’s ordeal is drawn out to the point of cruelty - in Madison’s (Alison Brie’s) case, for weeks. The message here seems to be that the crime of women’s complicity so much worse than the actual assault and violence men perpetuate, which leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I didn’t cry, but I did grimace nearly as often as I laughed out loud.

This is absolutely a film you should watch for yourself and form your own opinion on. I think I loved it in spite of how frustrated it made me, and that’s due to fantastic performances from Mulligan and every adorkable dudebro you had a crush on in 2010 cast here as the nice guys with sweet smiles hiding a mouth full of razor blades (Adam Brody, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Bo Burnham, Max Greenfield, Christopher Lowell). The music is also full of pink glitter pop bangers coupled with slow-mo horror movie strings, and Emerald Fennell’s script and direction (still can’t believe I didn’t know she was Camilla on The Crown!) is clear and cutting, like the winged eyeliner of every woman I’ve ever wanted to be. She’s got a crystal clear vision and an aesthetic that is perfect for every girl who grew up on rainbows, early 90s neon, and Lisa Frank. It’s as if the color pink were sharpened into a scalpel. It’s difficult to maintain the tone of queasy horror, anger, and comedy that often showcases the absurdity of a woman’s world, and that may be part of why I’m conflicted about my feelings here. The price is so, so high for the smallest amount of justice. Maybe that’s the blackest part of this dark, dark comedy - the idea that at least in fiction, some kind of justice will actually be served.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[catharsistine]

To Write A Good Villain

TW: loss of control, hallucinogenics, dr*gs, sc*rs, venom, bl*od, death, defeat, s*x, god, volcanoes, pr*dtors, m*rder, j*alousy, smoking, ab*se, cheating, sl*very, oppression, servitude, vampires, destruction.

Technically, I'm here on Tumblr as a writer. So. It's time I contributed my itty bitty bit.

Many things make a good story. Some claim it is world-building, some think it the cast of protagonists, some the vivid descriptions. All of those elements, however, will seem lacklustre, if your story does not have a good villain. What use is an MC with glorious superpowers or magic, if there is nothing to oppose them? Can there be any victory without a great evil?

In real life? Perhaps. In any fictional world? No. The readers tune in for awesome conflict, so we writers must provide, and enjoy ourselves while doing so.

So what does make a great villain?

Before we explore that, let us review the types of villains. Most important to remember is that a villain need not be human. In literature, there can be many types of discord:

- Person Vs Self: Often used as a compelling subplot, this kind of conflict is valid when a person needs to do something that is opposed to their inner self, something they find morally, emotionally or intellectually repulsive. Eg; A scholar forced to indulge in activities that are unscientific, like smoking when they know it is bad for their health. A pacifist who is forced into a war situation and must commit murder to save their own or their family's lives. A person seeking enlightenment struggles with jealousy when their guru finds a new favourite. (IMPORTANT: Feeling conflicted due to one's morals is acceptable. Hating oneself due to a mental disorder is not. Please do not use mental illness as a plot point.)

- Person Vs Person: Often used as a primary plot point in standalone stories and movies, this kind of conflict is valid when a person bears a personal grudge or hatred toward another. Eg; A wrestler hating someone who defeated them in the ring through sabotage. A child-hating the murderer that orphaned them and their sibling. A person hating their lover who manipulated, gas-lit or cheated on them. (IMPORTANT: Ensure that abuse and abusers are not romanticized, that the healing journey of the character does not lead to them forgiving their abuser. Forgiveness is not a prerequisite for closure. Please do not encourage abuser-abused relationships.)

- Person Vs Society: Often used as a primary plot point in dystopian stories and movies, this kind of conflict is valid when a person aims to fight against a law or a government that systematically oppresses them. Eg; A womon fighting against the law which considers them as lower-class citizens. A PoC fighting against slave laws. A member of the working class rebelling against the bourgeoisie. (IMPORTANT: If you are not a minority, do not presume you are qualified to tell their story. Our stories belong to us alone, and taking away from us the privilege of sharing our trauma when we feel comfortable enough to do so is the worst kind of representation. Please remember if you occupy a position of power, you have no right to speak on our behalf. Already we are often silenced, do not participate in that further if you claim to be an ally.)

- Person Vs Machine: Often used as a primary plot point in science fiction stories and movies, this kind of conflict is valid when any man-made object gains enough intelligence to be considered sentient and becomes a threat to humanity. Eg; A machine that acts as a maid desiring to be free of the bonds of its servitude. An AI which does not have empathy and value for human life. A robot that attempts to destroy mankind. (IMPORTANT: These conflicts are often intricate, and can be spun anyway. Perhaps a human tries to teach a robot to love, and the result is embarrassing in a comedic way. But do not try to equate people on the asexual and aromantic spectrums, people with mental illness or people with severe trauma to these AI. They are extremely discriminated against. Please, do not contribute to the stigma.)

- Person Vs Nature: Often used as a compelling subplot, this kind of conflict is valid when a person is pitted against fauna and flora in a vulnerable state. Eg; A captive who has escaped their bonds only to come upon a harsh landscape. A person with severe allergies visits a place that is opposed to their disposition. A person with a grudge against a famous wild animal who bit off their leg. (IMPORTANT: In many such stories, a trend is that a character comes across a hostile tribal group. These tribes are portrayed only the negative attributes of certain PoC cultures. Doing so is blatantly racist and highly offensive. Please refrain from representing us in such appalling ways.)

- Person Vs Fate/Supernatural: Often used as a primary plot point in fantasy and YA stories and movies, this kind of conflict is valid when a person is threatened or working against a force that is outside nature. Eg; A person coming across a magical artefact belonging to a god, and the devil's henchmen are after it, but it has bonded to them. A lower-level employee working in a tampon factory accidentally discovering their boss is a deadly vampire. A person falling in love, only to discover their partner is heir to a clan of selkies, and their younger sibling plans on overthrowing them. (IMPORTANT: Oftentimes, the villains are given physical and cultural attributes exclusive to PoC and their culture, like the antagonist having dreadlocks or enjoying food that lies outside white cuisine. Please realise that is racist.)

How to create a proper villain:

1. Motive.

Arguably the most important factor in a villain is motive. Their end goal must be reasonable(depends on their moral compass), achievable(depends on their means), and must cause moral conflict in the protagonist.

Eg; Due to childhood trauma, a villain feels weak and unsafe in their own skin. Adopting a terrifying persona, they seek to control everyone around them, and by extension, the world, through a potent hallucinogen. Considered worthless until they design a new identity, the villain is only considered a threat when they overthrow a monarchy/gain obscene amounts of money/create a giant machine. The MC knows that the villain is wrong in their actions, but understands that their henchmen are drugged, and must choose a different course of action than brute force to defeat them.

2. Power/Skill

Expanding on the earlier point of a goal being achievable, a villain must have the capabilities to obtain the prize they desire. If they perform actions outside their means, the entire premise becomes boring and unrealistic. Unless the villain is playing pretend for a future plot twist, humble the antagonist before they get out of hand.

Eg; A machine cannot destroy the world if they do not have an intricate base code if they are not linked to machines around the world. An animal cannot be famous unless its existence is questionable unless it is more mythical than real unless it possesses some quality (a missing tooth, a scar across their eye) that the others of its breed do not have. Kindness cannot be a source of a moral dilemma if it is not shown in many actions of the protagonist.

3. Appearance.

Contrary to popular belief, the way a villain looks contributes greatly to their story. If the appearance of an antagonist does not match their other attributes, the villain may fall flat and feel one-dimensional.

Eg; If a person comes from humbler beginnings, them wearing designer clothes is not feasible. A wealthier person should at least maintain the appearance of being well-groomed, but a few things out of place, such as a tie clip, messy eyeliner, or stubble are acceptable, perhaps due to lack of respect for themselves, or mania from unfulfilled desires. If a plant is secretly venomous, let insects keep away from it. If a werewolf is known to violently transition, let them have a feral look in their eye, larger canines and stronger jawbones.

4. Presence

Outside of appearance, the overall vibe of the villain is of the utmost importance. Their aesthetic instils fear, inspires awe, which is one of the primary things that cause audiences to secretly root for them. Their smooth delivery of scathing, savage lines makes us fall in love with them. Having a stellar, scary presence amplifies whatever the villain does tenfold.

Eg; If a villain wears a daring dress, different from the style of their era, it will make them seem much more impressive. Fresh after a murder, if they have blood splattered on their face, it will make the ghastliness of their actions more resounding. If they're haunting little children, having grotesque features instead of sharp ones will terrify the kids more, and the readers.

5. Backstory

Why did the villain become a villain in the first place? This is perhaps the most important question when it comes to antagonists. Not only do backstories help us understand the villain's motives and reasons better, but readers may also root for them if they glimpse a part of them reflected in the villain, making the tale more painful to read.

Eg; If a bully has been abused at home, it explains their actions. If a villain was in a situation where their body was not theirs, their actions may be born out of a desire for control.

Things to avoid:

1. Do not make them a caricature. Avoid toxic and dull stereotypes such as "catty ex-girlfriend", "sex-crazed womon", "evil old pr*dator" etc. Not only are these caricatures cartoonish and overused, but they also make a villain hollow and lifeless. Villains are humans too, give them quirks, bad habits and things they enjoy, beliefs of their own. (Eg; They enjoy watching cat videos, smoke or bite their nails, enjoy mixing drinks for fun, and think God is a hoax.)

2. Avoid coding them as PoC or LGBTQ+. If you have a diverse cast of various races, ethnicities, sexualities and genders, then it is completely alright to write another such character as the villain. However, if your only minority character is the villain, that is highly problematic.

3. A backstory does not equate to sympathy. If the villain's actions are extremely reprehensible, including and not limited to; r*pe, g*nocide, ab*se or s*rial murder, please do not try to redeem them. Understanding someone's motives is wildly different from making the audiences sympathize with them. Do not romanticize their flaws.

4. Lastly, humble them. A villain will always entertain the audiences if they suffer a bit too. Instead of constant angst and pain, add lighter moments, moments where they stumble, trip, are tired or bored. This would make their eventual death/defeat burn even more, and the audience will definitely mourn the loss of a wonderful antagonist.

Like a volcano, a true villain leaves ashes in their wake, but their fire forces the protagonists to solidify into stone. Let their actions echo into the age.

[brittababbles]

Only Mine - Target Practice part 2

Din Djarin x reader

Author’s Note and Warnings: Target Practice part 2, just in time for new Mando! This is still young!Din. Warnings: some stalkerish tendencies, moderate voyeurism, a creepy guy with abusive behaviors, implied murder, straight up deep throating, unprotected vaginal sex. So all the goods. Enjoy

 You’ve had better days.

Being received by the engineer-in-charge, twenty minutes later than you should have arrived, to be informed that half the fleet was due to have taken off ten minutes ago but certain ships needed repairs that weren’t complete, was not exactly the prelude to a happy, relaxed sort of morning. Not that most mornings were either happy or relaxed on this space station.

The fact that every engineer on the station was scurrying about like so many alarmed rats while every pilot on the station chased after them, in varying states of panic, did nothing to lower your nerves. You trotted obligingly across the hanger, following your boss toward an old and shivering freighter that was coughing out disquieting amounts of bright blue smoke. Your eyes were not fixed on the ship in front of you, however, but scanning the immediate area for a familiar glint of metal.

Interesting. All pilots were here but one, it seemed.

You dropped your tools at the foot of the belching engine and watched the screeching pilot descend the loading ramp. Your boss, Brejor, immediately launched into a heated argument with the small, blue-skinned man, evidently about either payment or your qualifications, which gave you time to examine your patient.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you murmured soothingly, running your hand over the engine’s durasteel external paneling.

Given the smell and color of the smoke being produced, you guessed something was wrong with the fuel injection system, and likely the heat produced from the malfunction was melting half the coatings off the hyperdrive. You sighed and glanced down at your bag. You’d need a hyperspanner, and you didn’t have one with you.

“Be right back,” you muttered, tapping your boss on the shoulder to get his attention.

He threw a grunt back at you before resuming his heated discussion.

You jogged back across the hanger, feeling a little foolish for having just made the same trip in the opposite direction. Reaching one of the storage cabinets, you tugged on the rusted door and stepped into the dimly lit storage room. You ambled mildly among the metal-grate shelves, and, locating the hyperspanner at just-above eyeline, stood on your toes to reach it.

You heard a grunt, then a cackle, from the other side of the metal shelf, and glanced through a gap in the back-stocked parts.

It was extremely hard to misunderstand what you were seeing.

Kneeling on the floor was a young Twi’lek woman. Your brain registered that you’d seen her before, and that you’d learned her name to be Xi’an, but that she was not nearly so familiar as who she knelt in front of. There was hardly any way to mistake the Baskar.

The Twi’lek’s hand was wrapped around Mando’s cock, pumping up and down it’s length with increasing speed. For his part, the Mandalorian was leaning backward against a stack of crates behind him. His head was tipped downward, watching Xi’an’s ministrations on his cock.

You were aware that you should grab your tools and exit the storage room as quickly as possible, but instead you stood, transfixed, your mind lingering between fascination and jealousy.

And, if you were honest with yourself, a touch of arousal.

The Twi’lek girl was speaking, her voice so low that you had to strain your ears to catch what she said.

“You like that, Mando, hmm?” she growled.

He didn’t answer, simply tipped his head back slightly, enjoying the sensation.

And his visor met your eyes.

You rocked back on your heels and bit your lip slightly, expecting him to speak, to stop what the girl was doing, to insist on an explanation.

Instead he gave a familiar, deep growl. You watched, blinking in genuine disbelief as his body twitched under Xi’an’s touch. Clearly the Twi’lek was just as surprised as you were, for she scrambled to fit his generous size into her mouth in a rush. Mando shuddered once more, then reached between his legs to press the palm of his hand to Xi’an’s forehead. You watched as he pushed her away.

“Get out,” he growled.

You had no idea which of you he was addressing, but took the hyperspanner your fingers were already twisted around and skittered gracelessly toward the door. Your trip across the hanger was no less hasty. You dropped the hyperspanner at Brejor’s feet.

“It’s the fuel injectors. I need the refresher,” you said stiffly, avoiding his eyes.

Without further explanation, you scampered out of the hanger and to the nearest vacant refresher. You slammed the door behind you and pressed your back against the cool metal wall.

What – what had you just witnessed?

Your hand trailed gently over your chest as you carefully replayed the events you’d witnessed in the storage room. The subtle way he’d changed in position when his visor met your eyes. The way his body arched over the crates behind him. The thick spurts of cum across the Twi’lek’s cheek.

He hadn’t been so close when you’d walked in. You knew what he sounded like when he was close. The way his breath felt against your skin as he bucked against your body, the words that tumbled from his soft, full lips…

Your hand, seemingly of its own volition, was halfway down the waistband of your pants before your realized.

Had he come for you?

Oh fuck.

Your fingers found your clit and rubbed harshly as you lingered on the thought.

He’d cum, under some other girl’s hand, seemingly from simply meeting your eyes. He’d just been getting into it when you’d spotted them. Your brain’s ability to reason fizzled as your fingers pinched and scraped over your clit. You wished they were his. You wished he’d follow you to this stupid cold ‘fresher and take you right here against the wall and…

“Hnng, Mando…” you gasped.

 It was far later than you’d like. The hanger was still crowded considering the hour, but not especially busy. You were flat on your back staring up into the fizzled engine of a cruiser that was well past its prime. You’d already pulled fifteen parts out of the engine block and the thing was still hissing at you like a disgusted loth-cat. You were covered in grime and were thoroughly annoyed that Brejor continued to hover over you like you needed supervision.

“Brejor?” you asked quietly, hopping to your feet and wiping your greasy hands on your pants

“What?” he asked sharply.

“Don’t you have… something, um, better to be doing? I can handle this one. If you finish the fighter over there, we can both be done”

Brejor actually smiled at you, a bright, toothy grin that didn’t fit his usual solemn face. He shoved away from the stack of metal crates he leaned against and tucked the holopad he was reviewing into a large pocket at his hip.

“That’s a girl, (Y/N). You’re sure you’ve got this?”

You nodded while trying to suppress a yawn. Brejor stretched, then clapped you on the shoulder before stalking off toward the heavily modified x-wing.

His absence revealed the Razor Crest to you in its entirety. You glanced at the ship, chewing on your bottom lip. He caught your eye at once.

Mando was leaning against the haul, arms folded, his helmet leaning slightly to one side. You try to ignore the thrill that ran up your spine at the sight of him watching you so intently. You blinked hard a couple times, turning your eyes to the tools in your hands. You wiped them down with a cloth Brejor had left behind, trying to shove the images from your mind of Mando in that storage room, of his head tipped backward, body sprawled across the crates…

“Hey there, gorgeous,” a voice said from somewhere behind you.

A hand gripped your upper arm and pulled you backward, away from your thoughts. You looked up to find yourself face to face with another human man. Ruddy faced, and clearly inebriated, he glanced unsubtly down your shirt before meeting your eyes.

Ah, shit.

“Jacllin,” you sighed.

The newcomer glanced between you and Mando on the other side of the hanger, his eyes narrowing.

“Thought you understood we had a date tonight, sweetheart?” he asked coldly.

You’d forgotten completely. Mando often had that effect on you.

“I um-“ you stuttered, not meeting the man’s eyes.

His grip on your upper arm tightened and he wrenched you toward him.

“Thought you’d find better dick somewhere else, huh? You little slut?” he growled.

You let out a wordless cry as his grip tightened on your arm.

“Let her go,” said a sharp voice.

You looked around to see Brejor standing at Jacllin’s other elbow, a rather hefty wrench in hand.

“This worthless little slut? Even you, Brejor, should know—”

“Let her go,” Brejor repeated, enunciating each word carefully.

Jacllin stared hard at Brejor, eyeing the wrench in his hands particularly hard. Glanced at you, then around the hanger. His eyes lingered on Mando for a second before he released your arm, shoving you hard against Brejor.

“You want her? Have her. She wasn’t much anyway. Barely enough to keep the cot warm,” and with that the other man stalked off.

Brejor set you carefully back on your feet.

“You okay, kid?” he asked, his voice remarkably calm.

You nodded, trying hard to swallow the lump in your throat. He watched you, leaning down a little to try to meet your eyes, before awkwardly patting your back.

“Well… take a minute and then get that engine done. We could both use the shut eye.”

Then he stomped back over to his own project.

You wiped your eyes on the back of your wrist and took a deep breath. Reflexively, your eyes were drawn back to the Razor Crest.

The ship stood sturdily as ever. But Mando was gone.

  The light rap on the door several hours later brought you out of a fitful half-sleep.

You’d spent longer in the shower than usually would have, managing to cry out the majority of the shame that came with your private life presumably being the gossip of the station tomorrow. Your hair was no longer the drenched and tangled mess it had been hours ago, but it was still damp on the pillow as you sat up, rubbing at your dry eyes.

The soft, though impatient knock came again.

“Hmm?” you hummed, untangling your legs from your blankets and wrapping yourself in a thin cotton bathrobe before stumbling to the door. You squinted against the light of the hall as you peered through the peephole. A familiar helmet met your vision

The door slid open and you caught the telltale glint of Baskar before you were shoved wordlessly inside. He followed without explanation. Your hands impacted his chest plate as he pushed you further into the room, and there was something wet and sticky smeared across a tiny portion of the Baskar.

“This is blood?” you said blankly, your voice still partially asleep.

He hushed you as the door slid shut behind him.

“What…?”

Mando’s movements were oddly mechanical as he pressed you against your dresser, fumbling behind you for the black scrap of cloth to tie across your eyes. He seemed almost in shock himself.  You reached behind you to grab his hand and found his glove slightly damp. He hissed quietly as you touched his fingers.

“Mando…?”

“He won’t hurt you again,” he said gruffly

“What?” you said again.

He ran his finger over the hand shaped bruise that had already formed on your upper arm, his touch uncharacteristically tender. His fingers edged the collar of your robe down your arm, revealing more and more of your skin.

“Bruises aren’t a good look for you, cyar’ika,” he said, his voice low.

It all settled into place rather quickly. The blood was…oh.

“Mando…” you whispered.

“I won’t let them hurt you, sweet girl,” he muttered.

“You shouldn’t…”

“I don’t care.”

He scooped you up into his arms and pressed you into the top of the dresser. Hastily he wrapped your face in the slim strip of black velvet – the thickest material you’d managed to find. His helmet hissed as he removed it, then clanked loudly on contact with the floor. His mouth pressed to your throat immediately.

“I don’t want to share you,” he growled against your pulse point.

You grappled at his hair, whimpering.

“I don’t want you to see anybody else,” he grumbled, nipping at your skin, “I don’t want you to think about anybody else,” he nipped again, “I want you to be right here when I want you. You understand, cyar’ika?”

“Mando…” you whined, squirming in his arms.

Abruptly his bare fingertips cradled your chin. He turned you to face him, and you knew that were it not for the blindfold, you’d be staring into his eyes.

“Just me, okay?” he said softly

“I… yes…” you said breathlessly, “Yes.”

“That’s my good girl,” he growled.

He pressed his lips to yours. His tongue pressed against your lower lip and you granted him access without thought, opening your mouth to take as much of him into yourself as you could. You entangled him in your arms, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. When one of your legs snaked around his hip, you realized he was still in the majority of his armor.

“Mando, you’re too…” you moaned, leaning away tapping your finger against his pauldron.

He snickered against your lips, then scooped you off the dresser and deposited you onto the bed in a swift motion.

“Is that what you want? More skin?” he asked, his tone unabashedly wicked as he lingered above you.

You hummed affirmatively, squirming your way up the bed to make room for him. He abruptly seized you by the wrists, pulling you up to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Take this off then,” he said softly.

He guided your hands to the plate of his armor that covered his thighs. With his fingers as your guide, you slowly removed his armor, piece by piece. When you stood wobbly to remove the chest plate, he laughed lowly and pressed his lips into your temple.

“You’re so good to me, cyar’ika,” he mused, “so soft and sweet.”

You didn’t speak, afraid to ruin the moment, as the last of his beskar tumbled to the floor. Your fingers raked at his tunic, pulling it upward until his warm skin was pressed against yours. His fingers lingered over yours, tracing over your much-smaller hands with careful caresses as he guided them to the hem of his pants. You slipped your fingers beneath them and carefully curled them around his cock, which was already half hard and desperately in need of more space. He rested his head against your bare shoulder.

“I don’t want to share you, either,” you murmured, your fingers stroking over the soft skin of his shaft.

“Hm?”

He hummed in question against your skin, but you were already sinking down, pushing him gently backward to let you kneel at the foot of the bed. You dragged his pants down with your free hand, letting his cock spring free, and traced the tip lightly with your fingertip.

“I don’t like it, Mando. I want this to be mine. Only mine,” you whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of his cock.

Your fingers traced the underside of his shaft, dancing lightly over the skin you discovered there. You felt him trembling above you already.

“Cyar’ika, I—” he choked out.

“I don’t like Xi’an touching you,” you continued calmly, “I want to show you that you only need me. That I’m special.”

You pressed your lips to his head again, letting your tongue slip out to give little kitten licks along the sensitive skin. Mando whined above you, his voice cracking slightly.

“Please,” he gasped out, “show me.”

When you took him all the way into your mouth, you had to fight the urge to gag on the size of him. You closed your eyes under the blindfold and focused on what you were doing, feeling every ridge of him along the roof of your mouth. Your tongue flattened against him to trace the vein on the underside of his cock, and you hollowed your cheeks slightly. There was nothing especially graceful about the motion, as you started to bob your head, sliding the length of him against your tongue and sucking gently, though hard enough that your cheeks caressed the sides of him. But he didn’t seem to mind. He entangled on hand in your hair and twisted the length of it around his fingers. He didn’t pull, precisely, so much as guide your head into a rhythm he liked.

“Fu- oh fuck… cyar’ika I… fuck,” he groaned.

You found it difficult but managed to quirk your lips up into what at least felt like a grin. You carried on, letting him set the pace while you explored the surface of his skin with your mouth, your tongue stroking the small slit at his head as you suckled there gently, then grazing over his shaft with your lips as he thrust himself as far back into your throat as you could manage.

“Fuck, I’ve gotta… stop, sweet girl,” he growled suddenly.

Abruptly his hand was gone from your hair as he dragged his cock from your lips. He grasped you under the arms and gently tossed you backward into the bed again.

“Dammit, girl,” he hissed, clambering on top of you, “you almost had me there.”

Your grin instantly turned to an open-mouthed groan as he sinks himself to the root into your pussy. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you were, given your intense focus on the taste and texture of his cock, but the wonderful stretch that accompanied his motion brought only a pleasing sort of pain. As his hips rocked back to dive into you again, you heard the faint squelch that indicated exactly how soaked you were.

“That’s it,” he moaned bracing his hands on either side of your head and setting a shattering pace, “that’s it. Scream for me, cry for me. Lovely thing.”

You took direction well. Each time he pounded into you, it brought another shout from the base of your throat. He leaned in closer and you felt first his lips, then his teeth as he nipped at your throat. You rocked your hips up into his, losing yourself in the sensation of his thundering, pounding thrusts.

“Ugn, ah… Mando… I’m… I’m gonna… ah…..” your voice caught off in a high whine as your legs gripped around his hips.

“Just… another couple….” He panted back.

His hips pressed into yours erratically as you felt your walls start to flutter. Abruptly your body seized completely, propelling your chest upward against his as your back arched. You shrieked what might have been his name, or may have been unintelligible syllables as you thrashed in his arms, feeling him buckle into you with a deep moan. You trembled, legs still tangled about his waist, as his cum coated your insides, leaving your entire body feeling warm and sated.

He panted, still arched over you, head pressed into your shoulder. His hair stuck to your sweat sheened skin. The fingers of both hands were entangled with your own.

“You are special, cyar’ika,” he panted lowly, “you don’t even know.”

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 2: College

Virgil and Logan have a series of flirty interactions before realizing that they’re roommates.

Logan POV, Analogical with background Royality and familial Logicality.

Day 1 | Masterlist | Day 3

Logan felt extremely stereotypical as he drank from his red solo cup. According to the clock on the wall, it was currently 11:27 PM and Logan was ready to go home. He silently cursed out his brother for dragging him to this party. Patton could have asked his boyfriend to take him, but he wanted Logan to get out of the house. Logan watched as Patton and Roman made out on the other side of the room. He took a bigger swig from his cup and winced. Cheap booze. Logan wished that the other highschoolers here could swindle some better alcohol. Logan steeled himself before downing the rest of the cup. He needed a distraction from his boredom (and his brother making out with Roman Prince).

Logan swiftly stood up, frowning as he stumbled a bit. Logan had assumed that his tolerance level was higher than this. He’s only had… three? Four? Drinks. Logan should go get another drink. Logan quickly made his way to the kitchen, ignoring the other teens he passed on the way there. This house was pretty big, with multiple bedrooms for teens to have fun in. Logan eventually found the kitchen, wincing slightly at how bright the room was. There seemed to be only one person- oh.

Sitting on the counter was the most gorgeous man Logan had ever seen. Logan vaguely recognized him from the football games he attended with Patton. The teen usually manned the concession stand, wearing his overly large hoodie and dark eyeshadow. With his alcohol-fueled brain, Logan wasn’t shy to admit that he’d been crushing on the teen for a while. Tonight his crush wore a tight-fitting MCR shirt and equally tight jeans. His makeup was much more complex, complete with winged eyeliner and black lipstick. Logan suddenly felt hot all over as he moved forward to grab another drink. The sinfully attractive man just then seemed to notice Logan’s presence, swaying slightly on the counter.

“Hey, I know you!” The man slurred out. He appeared to be just as intoxicated as Logan was. “You’re the cute kid that orders cookies and water at every football game!”

Logan blushed, surprised that he remembered Logan’s face, much less his order. He then realized the first half of the sentence. “You think I’m cute?” He asked, internally frowning at the way his voice slurred.

The hot guy (who Logan was mentally dubbing ‘hottie’ from here on out. It’s not like anyone could read his thoughts) smirked. “You’re more than cute. You’re hot as shit, man.” The man giggled. “I’ve been crushing on you for a long time.”

Logan’s drunk-self couldn’t help but repeating the sentiment. “I’ve also harbored a crush on you.” They both giggled like schoolgirls at the thought, both too intoxicated to fully grasp the implications.

Hottie suddenly hopped off the counter, grabbing Logan by the hand. “C’mon.”

Logan let himself be pulled along until they reached the front door. “Where are we going?” Logan felt like he was forgetting something important. Did he have his phone? Yes, it was in Logan’s back pocket. Then what was he forgetting? It must not be important.

Hottie smiled as he led Logan across the street. “My house.” He led Logan to the front door, only letting go of his hand to unlock the door. “My parents are on vacation, so the house is empty. We just graduated and we both like each other so I thought-”

Hottie didn’t quite state what he was planning for them to do that night. It might have been because Logan chose that moment to press his lips against Hottie’s. Or that Hottie’s back was immediately pressed against the wall. Or maybe he was just too busy trying to get Logan’s shirt off.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Logan groaned as he woke up, ignoring the need to open his eyes. His head felt like it would split in two. What happened last night? Logan struggled to pick out the details. Patton forced me to go to a party. He and Roman were… occupied. I went to get another drink and found that hot guy I’ve had a crush on for a while. I confessed my feelings and we went to his house- HIS HOUSE?!

Logan forced his eyes open, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t in his own bedroom. While it was difficult to see without his glasses, Logan could still make out the majority of the room. The whole room was a strange yet aesthetically pleasing combination of charcoal grey and purple. The bedroom was sparse, with multiple cardboard boxes stacked in the corner of the room. Logan’s crush (was crush an appropriate term for someone you’ve already had sex with?) was sitting on the other end of the bed, writing something in his notebook. Logan was suddenly aware of the fact that he was naked underneath the thick comforter on top of him. He went through the mental crisis of what the hell should I do for a few minutes before the man looked up.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were awake.” The teen shuffled around before holding something out. Logan held his hand out and was slightly surprised to feel his glasses being set gently onto his palm. Logan quickly put on his glasses and watched as his crush played with his hoodie strings. It was very odd to see him like this. On one hand, he wasn’t acting like the antisocial yet terrifying teenager that he was at football games. On the other hand, he wasn’t the suave, confident young man that Logan met last night. He was… shy, and quiet (and, though Logan would never admit it… he was cute, in a soft way).

Logan felt his blush rise as the guy handed him his clothes. They were clean and folded, with not a wrinkle in sight. How long has he been up for? And how long have I been asleep? Logan watched as the man gestured towards the bathroom and walked out of the room. Logan quickly stepped into the bathroom and changed, ignoring the heavy nausea he felt from his hangover. He then made his way out of the room, making his way to the kitchen. His crush was sitting on the counter, his phone in one hand and an unopened bottle of water in the other. Logan’s phone sat on the counter next to him, connected to a charger. The man offered Logan the water, which he accepted gratefully, chugging half the bottle before using the cool bottle as an icepack for his headache. His crush winced at the action. “Sorry, we don’t have any painkillers around. Trust me, I checked.”

Logan offered a small smile. “I believe you.” He turned towards his phone and was unsurprised to see over 50 missed calls from Patton. “I’ll need to be leaving soon.” The man tensed up. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “Look, I know we went through some mushy shit last night, but… I’m moving away in a few weeks. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I could handle anything long-distance. But I didn’t mean to bring you here for a one-night stand. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve been crushing on you for a while now.”

Logan nodded. “I am also leaving for college in a few weeks. There are extremely low chances of the two of us meeting again. While I also harbor feelings towards you, I do not fancy a long distance relationship.”

They sat there in silence while Logan texted Patton. Logan left out the majority of the details, just stating that he was unharmed and that he was across the street from the party. Patton replied that he would be there in 20 minutes.

“Hey.” Logan looked up, and his crush immediately looked down at his feet. “If we ever meet again… you know, after we’ve moved and stuff… do you think we could give this a chance?”

Logan smiled. “If we somehow meet again in the future, I would thoroughly enjoy being in a relationship with you.”

They sat there for a few minutes before he smirked. “Wanna make out until your ride gets here?”

Logan leaned forward to kiss him. “Yes please.”

---------------------------------------------------

Logan sighed as he finished transferring his belongings from his car to his dorm room. Luckily his roommate wasn’t there yet, so they couldn’t see him exhausted from going up and down the stairs a dozen times. If he was here, maybe this whole thing would’ve been more bearable, but-

Logan shook his head. It’s been three months since the party, and he was probably on the other side of the country. Logan still feels like kicking himself for not getting the guy’s name or phone number. But by the time he thought of that, his crush had already moved away. But even after three months of no contact, Logan couldn’t get him out of his head. He’d fallen hard, and every night after was filled with dreams that would never happen. Kisses that never occurred, words that were never said, smiles and secrets that were never shared. God, Logan would do just about anything to have one more night with the guy. Instead, he was almost 1,000 miles away from his hometown, sharing his room with a stranger and wishing for a nameless cute guy more than he wished for his own brother.

Once everything was arranged accordingly, Logan decided to go and get some coffee. While he technically had a coffee maker in his room, Logan wanted to stretch his legs and familiarize himself with his new environment (it had nothing to do with getting thoughts of his crush out of his head, that would be preposterous). Logan made his way out of the college dorm, already dreading the walks from his dorm to his classes. The campus was larger than anything in Logan’s hometown. It took 20 minutes to reach the edge of campus, and another 15 to find a decent coffee shop. Sure, it looked like a cheap rip-off of Starbucks, but it had good reviews online so Logan was willing to give it a try.

Logan opened the front door, unsurprised to hear a small bell go off at the action. What he was surprised by was the familiar voice at the counter.

“Hello, welcome to the Coffee Castle, how may I help you?” Logan looked up just as he did, and they made eye contact over the counter. Logan’s face went red as he turned around and yelled towards the back room. “Taking my break now!”

Another voice answered back. “But I thought you were servin’ a customa?”

He blushed. “He can buy a coffee later, I gotta talk to him first. Personal stuff.”

The voice laughed. “Go gettum, V!”

V. While it wasn’t a full name, it was a much better substitute for him. V hung up his apron before dragging Logan towards the back of the coffee shop. There was a storage closet just big enough for the two of them as they slipped inside.

V smiled as he turned on the light. “Hey.”

Logan blushed. “Hello. It is very… nice, to see you again.”

V smirked. “Look, I’ve only got 10 minutes before I’ve gotta go back up to the counter. Wanna make out until then?”

Logan immediately pressed forward for a kiss. “That would be amenable.” He whispered under his breath.

Time always felt slower around V. Back when V worked the high school concession stand, a five-minute conversation felt like hours of invigorating debates. That night spent with V felt like years of drunken confessions and passionate moments. And the 8 minutes they spent making out in this closet felt like an entire lifetime of love. Every kiss was a promise for more, every sigh was a confession that didn’t need verbalization to be understood. Logan was not well-versed with recognizing and acting on emotions, but after the lifetime he was feeling in this moment, he realized that he would trade almost anything to spend an actual lifetime with V.

They eventually stopped kissing and just stood there for a moment, pressing their foreheads together in some vague form of reassurance. Logan wished that this moment of serenity would last forever, but that was not meant to be. V pulled back and blushed, looking down at his feet. “I know we both said we would give us a chance if we met again, but do you still mean it?”

Logan nodded. “Do you?”

V smiled, leaning in to kiss Logan’s nose. “I wouldn’t have pulled you into this closet if I didn’t.”

They stood there for a few moments before Logan coughed awkwardly. “Could I get your phone number? I really don’t want to go through the trouble of trying to find you again.”

V laughed. “Yeah, that makes sense.” V typed his number into Logan’s phone before sighing. “I need to get back to work.”

Logan frowned. “Alright. Will you be here tomorrow?”

Virgil smirked. “No, but I can be here if someone wants to go on a coffee date.”

Logan blushed. “That sounds acceptable. Is 1 PM a good time for you.”

Virgil smiled. “Sounds perfect.” He gave Logan one more peck on the lips before opening the closet door. “See you then.”

Logan was a blushing mess for the rest of the day. Patton had decided to call him soon after Logan left the cafe, and he squealed when Logan told him of his encounter with V. Patton then spent the next 20 minutes telling Logan what he should wear for his date tomorrow. That’s when Logan realized that holy shit I have a DATE tomorrow. He spent the rest of the day at the local library, trying to find anything on date etiquette (or just how to hold a proper conversation). After promising to tell Patton about how his date goes, he reads several philosophy books to try and calm down. By the time the library closed, Logan was feeling slightly less flustered and collected enough to meet his new roommate. Logan knew nothing but the man’s name, so it was difficult to judge whether or not this interaction would go smoothly.

Logan approached his dorm once again, feeling a nervous twist in his abdomen. First impressions meant alot to most people; would Logan’s roommate be upset that Logan wasn’t there all day? While Logan wasn’t interested in being friends with his new roommate, it would be helpful to keep a polite relationship with the person he was going to live with for the next few months.

Logan quickly entered the dorm, finding his roommate lying on the floor, eating a bag of chips. Logan cringed as the crumbs got into the carpet, but attempted to be civil nonetheless. “Hello, you must be Virgil Storm. I am your roommate, Logan-”

Logan didn’t get to finish his introduction before the man burped loudly and sat up. “Oh, I’m not Virgil.” He used his tongue to get the leftover crumbs out of his mustache. “Remus Prince, at your service!”

Logan cringed again, suddenly recognizing the man’s face. While he didn’t go to the same highschool as Logan, his resemblance was impossible to miss. “Ah, I remember now. We’ve met a few times before this, if I’m remembering correctly. You’re Roman’s twin brother, correct?”

Remus’ eyes went wide. “Yep, and your Patty’s big bro, right? My, what a small world!”

Logan couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yes, what a small world indeed.” He looked around. “Now, what are you doing in my room?”

Remus giggled. “I’m Virgil’s best friend! We were gossiping about the date he’s going on tomorrow.”

Logan nodded. “And where is he now?”

Logan heard the door open and close from behind him. Remus giggled and pointed towards the door. Logan turned around, ready to start his introductory speech again. Instead, all that came out was a quiet squeak.

Standing in the doorway, slack jawed, was V. Logan felt his cheeks turn red as he tried to come up with an appropriate response. Remus giggled again, and V then seemed to realize that Remus was there. “Remus, leave.”

Remus whined. “But we were gonna talk about the guy that made your heart flutter and your di-”

Virgil growled. “Out, Remus.”

Remus stared at the two of them while Logan continued to silently blush. He seemed to come to the correct conclusion as he laughed. “Well, the world’s even smaller than I thought it was. Have fun you two!” And with one last laugh and something whispered into Virgil’s ear, Remus left.

Logan and V- no, Virgil- stared at each other before Virgil started laughing. Logan soon joined him, and they became a giggling mess. Virgil wiped away a fake tear. “What are the odds?”

“Of the two of us being roommates at the same college? Without informing the other of what state we were moving to?” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Too small to consider.”

There was a pause before Virgil spoke up. “Well, I know we have a date planned for tomorrow, but we have two perfectly usable beds right here, and-”

This wasn’t the first time that Virgil was unable to finish telling Logan what he wanted to do, and it wouldn’t be the last. But Virgil was okay with that, if it meant that he was feeling Logan’s lips on his.

[sabreean]

One word for you...

Where I have not gone plastic-free:

Bread box: There are no plastic-free, airtight bread boxes that I’ve been able to find and I *must have* airtight. I make my own bread in a bread machine just because I like to, and the first few loaves I made here on the humid island grew mold within three days because my old bread box was not airtight. Bread bags are more eco-friendly but aren’t airtight, and will hold the humidity. I could find no silicon boxes and also could not find silicone containers/bags that I could be sure would be big enough to hold a loaf of bread and still close completely. I’m considering a giant silicone bag I found online, for marinating meat, so if I get that I can see if a loaf will fit inside. But I haven’t pulled the trigger on that yet, buying something just to marinate meat doesn’t fall neatly into the “I really need it now” category. So I purchased a BPA-free plastic, airtight box and it seems to be working very well. It’s so airtight that I was able to store bananas in it as well and there has been no sign of fruit flies.

Suncare: I spent two days working on the porch. I was under a roof in shade the entire time but I sunburn if I stand next to a toaster, so at the end of the second day I looked like Roy Neary in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”. As in the right half of my face was bright red. I wasn’t wearing sunscreen because it breaks me out. All of it. Every single sunscreen ever. They all break out my face, neck and chest within 20 minutes of application. So I did some research and learned about mineral sunscreens versus chemical sunscreens and after reading a lot of recommendations and reviews, I ordered Alba Botanica Sensitive Mineral Sunscreen. Yes the tube is plastic, but there’s probably no avoiding that. The sport cream is 45 SPF, waterproof for up to 80 minutes, vegan, free of all the chemicals that turn my face into a Marscape, biodegradable and - get this - reef safe. That’s a “gee how nice” for most people but now that I’m swimming around coral reefs, shit got real. They also make a spray-on but it’s not legal to ship aerosol cans to Hawaii, something about them exploding under pressure blah-bibby-blah. Pretty bummed about that. For those wondering, until now I’ve worn a sun visor whenever I’m outdoors but it didn’t occur to me to wear it on a covered porch. I’m sure it didn’t occur to Roy on a dark deserted highway in the middle of an Indiana night, either. LATER UPDATE: Native makes a mineral sunscreen and I thought it wasn't water resistant, but it turns out that it is, although I should not have had to dig so deep into their website to find this out. Better than getting anal probed, all things considered. The Alba sunscreen is very thick and hard to squeeze out of the tube, and you can feel it on your skin at first but you forget pretty quickly. It is completely unscented. You have to make sure to rub it in well if you don’t want to look a little weird. It showers off clean and easy and after a few days with it, not a single blemish! Our pharmacy sells some water resistant mineral sunscreens. I didn’t price them the last time I was there to compare with online ordering and they are probably reef-safe because as of January 1 of this year, suncreeens containing oxybenzone and octinoxate are banned in Hawaii to protect the reefs. But my next purchase will be Little Hands because it is made right here in Hawaii. I have been a big believer in ‘buy local’ for many years and they are plastic-free.

Groceries: Groceries haven’t changed. I’ve been using cloth shopping and produce bags for many years, they just bloody well work better. I do buy some foods in plastic, often there just isn’t any alternative. This was true even on the mainland. The main change is that now I walk to the store more often than not. I was able to walk to almost everything I needed when I lived in Austin’s SoCo in the early aughts and I loved it, I am so so happy to be able to do that again. Knowing I’m just a pleasant stroll away also means that I only buy what I need in the immediate future. There are a few exceptions for items that sell out very soon after the weekly supply barge comes, and don’t always get restocked even then. I drive when I have to buy heavy or awkward to carry things, like a case of soda. I’ve found conflicts with grocery choices because of a weird contradiction: non-hippie products in cardboard/paper packaging versus hippie products in plastic. I first noticed this when I went to buy sugar the other day - do I get the organic non bleached sugar in the plastic bag, or the nonorganic bleached sugar in the plastic bag? It wasn’t much of a conflict in any real world sense, just something that grabbed my attention. (I went with the plastic by the way, for the organic foodstuff that was going to go into my body).

Probably the clothesline, I have no idea what the hell that thing is made of, most likely nylon. We don’t use it for everything because it’s too humid here to dry everything in a reasonable amount of time. But we use it for some things - especially towels and swim wear - and I’m glad that we have it and it saves money on electricity. Our electricity generation here on the island is likely solar but still, no need to be greedy about it. Lots of people here have clotheslines, they are a common sight I am glad to see.

Bandages: I use Wellys. Patch bamboo bandages sound great, but I am clumsy AF and so I need bandages that are going to stay on through wet and dry and everything else. Wellys are flexible fabric, latex-free bandages made in the USA, in reusable tins that you can buy refills for if you don’t want a new tin, and that create a seal around all four edges. They are a certified B Corp so even with a bit of plastic, the company is still in line with my ethics.

Makeup: I use mostly mineral makeup, because it lasts longer (no organic ingredients to breed bacteria) and many mineral brands offer smaller quantities that are more sensible for people who don’t wear it everyday, or at least don’t wear the same colors every day. On the mainland I went weeks without wearing makeup and here I’ll probably go for months, it’s just such a casual place. I might wear some when we go across to Maui for a long weekend. But there are a lot of all natural and plastic-free makeup options out there these days, I am glad to see. If I need to replace anything I will shop with them but it’s just stupid and wasteful to toss everything out and buy new. One thing I won’t compromise on is mascara, I use Thrive because it really does what it claims, and it is still a company that aligns with my ethics. Many zero-waste brands sell cake mascara and that’s a complete nope for me. I tried cake mascara in high school, when I was going through my Audrey Hepburn/Sophia Loren makeup phase and I really didn’t like it. I also tried cake eyeliner and must confess that this elder goth never ever got the hang of liquid eyeliner, Icarus winged better than I can. I gave up a long time ago, pencil me in baby. Also, I wear lipstick, the paint-on stuff that stays on through food, drink, sex and a nuclear blast. IMO, lip balms are a waste of money and do not count as ‘makeup’, unless you’re only intention is to prevent chapped lips and with a small amount of color that lasts few minutes at a time.

Hair brush: I need a new hair brush that is designed for my long fine mane because my hair is getting a lot of punishment here, between wind and swimming and so more frequent washing and lots of pulling and tugging into braids. I bounced back and forth between Ibiza (boar bristles, wood handle) and Mason Pearson (boar bristles, plastic handle), for about half an hour. I finally decided to bite the big one and invest in the Mason Pearson. It is universally reputed as the best hair brush to be had on planet Earth. The was company founded in London by a Yorkshireman named Mason Pearson (bet you didn’t see that coming) in 1885. The boar bristles are either shed bristles collected from the wild in India and China or sourced from the meat industry as they are a by-product of processing farmed boar; you may ask so I will answer and yes, I do eat boar. Mason Pearson is still owned and run by the Pearson family and the Pearson women have always played integral roles in the company. Indeed Mary Pearson was the CEO for the 20 years following the death of her husband, founder Mason, and one of their daughters ran the top floor of the factory on Old Ford Road in London for 50 years. You can purchase a brush with a handcrafted made-to-order wood handle but while I am willing to make the investment in a Mason Pearson brush, I just can’t bring myself to be so self-indulgent as to even send a price inquiry for the wood model. This is where my best friend reminds me of the lengths I went to and the price I paid to obtain a bottle of the finest Irish whiskey in the world to demonstrate that yes, I can be that self-indulgent without much convincing. I just can’t bring myself to do it with a hair brush. I purchased from Pasteur Pharmacy in NYC because they made their bones, if you will, in their early years in the 60s by catering to humans with dogs.

Bed blanket: I just couldn’t bring myself to buy a bamboo blanket/bedspread that costs in the $275 neighborhood when the dogs will be spending at least as much time on it as we will spend under it. So we went with half cotton/half bamboo for a much more reasonable price. The temps here are warm by the thermometer but the air is heavy with humidity (100% yesterday and that doesn’t necessarily mean rain), so when the fans blow it around it can be pretty damn chilly. And the dogs steal the covers.

Clothing: if I need new clothing I will consider bamboo but it’s damned expensive. I was shopping for a second bathing suit recently because I’m at the beach often enough that I need a suit to wear while the other one is drying or waiting to be laundered free of all the salt and sand that didn’t wind up in my ass or under my tits. I always thought that sand-in-uncomfortable-places was a joke, I was very wrong. I spent two hours searching for bamboo or other plant-based sustainable fabric or recycled fabric and found nothing under a hundred bucks. Nothing. Not even a thong bikini (I already have sand up my ass, I don’t need material there as well). I’m not lounging instagrammatically on Waikiki, I’m swimming in 5+ foot surf every weekend at least, so I am not willing to pay that much for a suit intended for plenty of use and punishment. I got a bikini because it will be easier to discreetly rinse most of the sand away before going back up the beach, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

[voltagesmutter]

Once Upon An Us - Prologue

Portfolio

Name: Bella Swan

Age: 22

Nationality: British

Occupation: Website design, University degree in media

Appearance: 

Hair: Ice blonde, thick, touches bottom of breasts, has a slight side fringe 

Skin: Pale, wears fake tan for subtle glow

Eyes: Sky-blue

Lips: Plump and naturally pouty

Body: Roughly 5”7, long legs, slim but curvy

Breasts: Perky and more than a handful but not too big

Bum: Curve in spine gives illusion there's more than there is, firm and round

Hands: Petite, long fingers, always acrylic extensions on them

Clothes: Often off the shoulder tops with a bralette underneath with a black pencil skirt with heels

Makeup: Always a cat-flick eyeliner, often gold and brown eyeshadow with nude lips, light foundation and concealer. 

Personality:

Doesn’t take shit from anyone

Stands up for herself 

Argues back when feels she the need too

Not afraid of risks

Doesn’t realise her power of men

Extremely friendly and bubbly

Not great with conflict unless she's angry

Hobbies and work:

Freelance designer

Loves dogs

Gamer

Loves tv-programs to distract emptiness of her apartment

Music is a huge pleasure

Taking a big bubble bath with a good book

Wants:

Hoping to find love or ‘the one’

Someone who makes her laugh and smile

A pleasure to wake up too

Someone easy on the eyes, however personality trumps over appearance

Successful career, not a lay about

No preference over age, as long as they treat her right

Sex:

Not a virgin

Not heavily experienced

Never been brought to an orgasm by a partner

Not embarrassed by masturbating, uses vibrators to reach a climax

‘Welcome to Pods, the new dating experience to help you find the perfect partner. We have collected your data and produced your profile, we cross match it with the others in our system to produce suitable matches for you. We take your compatibility and produce a time frame for you to spend time together. You will both reside in a pod, adjusted and adapted for your shared comfort for your time frame. The experience gives you time to see how you are compatible as a couple, facing the everyday life of living and being together. Nothing is off limits when it's come to your relationship as long as everything is consensual. When your time limit is up, you may leave the pods together or carry on with your next experience/interest. If you feel the comparability is wrong and we have made an error you are able to end the pod experience with your partner at any point. Now, go and enjoy your pod experience in finding love,”. 

Taking a deep breath you entered into your welcome pod after being debriefed by the robotic message that played on the screen. You sat nervously tapping your fingers together, waiting, knowing in a few moments time you would be greeting your first partner in your shared pod. 

You remembered the day you signed up for this experience, after seeing the successful stories of others finding their real loves with the catchphrase, “Thank you Pod, because of you we found love!”. It was something you craved for, to be loved, to be in love. Yes you were only the ripe age of 22, but seeing all your friends in absolute divine heaven with their significant others made you feel in a world of loneliness. You had never been in love or been loved, you thought you had been once but it wasn’t, it was someone being controlling and manipulating you. Breaking you down future and future until you no longer recognised the person you saw in the mirror. Being lied to about their feelings, determined to use this to get you into bed which you being so naive and young fell into, only to be dropped after like a rock into the ocean, sinking and forgotten about. That was the day you then decided your worth, not anyone else, you and only you. 

You tried dating, it wasn’t a great experience, you often found a lot of men looking for one-night stands or an affair. Something you weren't interested in, no you wanted to find a partner, someone who you would get excited to wake up to every morning and see their face. You were beginning to feel slightly hopeless until you saw the advert for Pods and that was the day you changed your love life completely. Applying online, it stated every clearly the process, that you would live with a person for a dedicated time frame based on your compatibility to give you the experience of seeing how you lived with a ‘perfect match’. Since you worked for yourself this would be easy for you as you could take your work with you and not have to worry about taking time off. It was quite an exciting feeling, thinking you might be living with a total stranger who may become your future partner, if you get a match that even is. The reviews were amazing, with over a 95% success of people finding love and pursuing a relationship with them afterwards. 

It was only a few days after applying you got a phone call saying they had found you a match and that you could begin your journey together tomorrow. They gave you a checklist of what you needed: anything for work, any hobbies and leisure activities you had, clothes for all occasions, any birth control and protection you wished to bring (although they did provide) and any personal items that you wished. The place you would be living was a ‘Pod’ which was a shared apartment, one bedroom and bathroom, an office, kitchen and living room with everything provided and customised to your lifestyles. 

You were nervous! In a day’s time you would be meeting someone with a high match to your personality and persona! Throwing everything from your wardrobe into a suitcase, you didn’t know how long you would be there for or what you might get up so best to be prepared. All your makeup went with you, this was essential. Taking your laptop and putting on top of your case, you needed this along with your client books for work. 

“Um…” You sigh and think of anything else. You throw in your favourite blanket for home comfort, along with a photo of you and your best friends to keep them with you whilst you was there. The only last thing you needed to pack was your birth control and period essentials, due to how unpredictable your period could be, you went onto the birth control pill to help you regulate and monitor them properly. With everything packed you take a final scan but nothing screamed out to you. 

Sitting on your bed you take out your phone and ring your best friend, Rose. She knew all about your application and demanded as soon as you heard back you told her.

“Hey, Rose, no girl guess what!” You smile down the phone.

“You finally got some?” You knew she had a smug grin on her face.

“No you perv! I have a match!” You squeal and so does she.

“Tell me everything!”.

“I leave tomorrow,”.

“No way, how long for?”.

“I don’t know…”.

“Oh okay, so the guy, come on!”.

“I don’t know anything,” You chuckle, “They keep everything secret until your in the pod with them, I guess it’s to stop anyone searching and find anything out maybe?”.

“But, I want to know who you're going to be with,” You can tell she's pouting, “What if he’s the one and your gone for like a year and I never seen you again”. 

You can’t help but snort with laughter.

“Rose, no, it doesn’t work like that. I can still leave the pod and do my normal life, I just live their with him instead, I can still see you, you silly sod,”.

“Well I wish you the ultimate happiness on your road to love and hope you don’t forget me, I’ll be over to visit you, we can have a girls night maybe?”.

“I would love to have you over! Maybe wait and let me see what he’s like first? I mean it goes bad. I am able to leave at any time so,” You let out a light sigh, “But let's hope it’s all good”.

“Any man would be an idiot not to want you, especially living with your sexy ass,”.

“I love you, you know if you and Brad ever break up I’m first in line to get in your bed right,” You tease, flirty banter with your best friend, is anything better?

“Yeah, well watch it you! Don’t be-coming back pregnant you hear me, I’m too young to be called Aunty Rose,” She laughs, making your face go red.

“I’m not going to get pregnant, don’t be so stupid!”.

“Babe I’m being serious for a moment, don’t hold yourself back with this guy, if it feels right and you know you want some good slap and tickle, go for it,” You can't help but burst out laughing at her words, “Bella I’m serious!”.

“God I’m sorry but slap and tickle, you sound like my grandparents, please never say that phrase again,”.

“Okay, okay, it was kind of awful wasn’t it, but I’m serious, don’t hold back and let you enjoy yourself,”. 

“I know, I’m just going to roll with it all, but look I need to go, I got to prep for tomorrow!”.

“Keep me update, I love you!”.

“I love you too!”.

“Oh and Bella!” You were just about to press to end the call, “If he’s fit send me some pics yeah”. You end the call, unable to contain your laughter, knowing she was serious. 

You spent that night prepping, doing your hair, nails, shaving and tanning, you wanted to look your best for tomorrow. It was a pleasant sleep until you woke up in the morning, nerves and anxiety riddled you as you began to realise this is the last night you would wake up in your apartment until who knows when. What would he be like? Who even is he? Thousands of questions flood your head as you prepared to get to leave, on the way to find one of ‘your perfect matches’. 

“Miss.Swan?” A friendly voice asks and you look up to a woman in a white lab coat, “Hi, I’m Daisy, your partner is just being briefed as you had moments go, so if you’ll follow me,”. You nervously find your feet, feeling the bubble of anxiety begin to rise in your stomach. You follow her silently as she leads you down a corridor and to an outdoor area. It’s a huge field, with pods dotted about all over it, a road connecting them all together.

“So this is you, number 35,” She smiles after leading you up a pathway to a wooden log pod, it was beautiful.

“Thank you, is… is my partner?” You ask, accepting the key off her.

“No, your partner will be with you briefly, we wanted to give you a moment to settle in and explore, read over his portfolio before you meet,” She smiles sweetly, “Right, so that's all now, remember anything you need just press the pod app on your phone,”. With that she turns on her heel and you take a deep, nervous breath before unlocking the door. Inside it was stunning, it was nothing like you expedited. An open plan living room with kitchen area, sophisticated but also homely furniture filled the room with a corridor which you presumed led to the bedroom, bathroom and office area. You kick off your shoes and walk barefooted across the wooden floor exploring, you open the bedroom to see one double bed, a slight blush hinting over your face. You see your suitcase at the foot of bed along with a sleek black one, the realisation of this happening starting to kick and made you feel more nervous than before. Walking back to the living room and sitting on the sofa you see the folder on the table.

Taking a deep breath, you pull the folder onto your lap to review your match.

[women-are-visual]

Feisty’s Breakdown

My friend Feisty Lee has been in a breakdown for over a year now, and I’m not sure how to help her. I still live in Oakland, California, while she’s moved to Los Angeles to be near her family, and when she asks me to visit her, I do.

It’s a warm and calm January night when she flails to the front gate of her white stucco apartment building. She’s super skinny, dressed in leggings and rose gold sneakers, a big sweater, long brown hair, thick eyeliner. 

“Oh my god, oh my god!” she shouts, flinging her arms and legs as she runs, like a child, although she’s in her early forties. “I’m Michael Jackson!” she says, kicking her big shiny sneakers.

We walk through a tiny courtyard, past a sad patch of grass and a lonely palm tree. Apartment balconies circle overhead and it feels fake and strange, like the set of a sitcom.

“I like your hair, you look the best with a curly bob,” she says, “Have you lost weight, you’re so skinny, I’m fat.” She’s always so attentive and complimentary. That’s why I like her. It feels good just to be noticed. I’m not skinny though, I’m chubby, and I don’t care.

Inside, her place is plain and modern, white walls and white rugs, a combo living room/kitchen with no furniture. On the back windows, vertical blinds cast gray shadows. Her paintings of cartoonish heads are propped against the walls and her bedroom is like a mini version of her favorite clothing store, Anthropologie, with an old wooden dresser, black and white photos hung on clothes lines above it, a metal rack of colorful, patterned clothes, and a paper lamp in the corner.

“Todd wanted me to be a dental hygienist, but I couldn’t stand the thought of it, what if I’d hurt someone’s tooth when I went crazy? I’d rather try to be an artist than embarrass myself.” 

I drive us to the restaurant, along the dark and warm highway, through the black silhouetted mountains. I love the calm and friendly feeling of LA, being from Buffalo, I wouldn’t think I’d feel so at home, but I do. We listen to “L.A. Woman” by The Doors and talk about our favorite L.A. bands, but when we're almost there, she grabs my arm and stares into my eyes.

“I’m an heiress, don’t lie to me and say you don’t know!”

“Okay, Feisty, I know, I know.” 

I just want her to let go so that I can drive safely. Really, I just want her to be sane, I need my friend back, the one who’s funny and fun. But when she reveals her craziness again, I feel so betrayed and ashamed for trying to make a connection with someone who’s mental.

I picked the wrong restaurant, Enterprise Fish Co., it got good reviews on Yelp, but it’s too big, cold, and corporate.

We’re seated at a booth and served too sweet margaritas made with cheap mixers. 

Just in case I still think Feisty’s sane, she laughs and says, “I’m in a knife fight with big oil.”

She drops her fork and crawls beneath the booth to get it. “I used to think it was about talent,” she shouts from beneath the table, “but now I know that everyone just wants to see your ass in the air.”

Oh god, she thinks that everyone’s watching her and wants to have sex with her. Those are typical breakdown thoughts, I know because I’ve had them myself, but I don’t try to argue with her. My friend Rachel cares for seniors with dementia, and she taught me to go along with whatever they say, otherwise, you’ll just upset them.

Our food arrives. For me, oysters on a platter of rock salt and a shrimp Louie salad, and for Feisty, roasted corn and squash enchiladas.

I drink the cold, salty brine from the shells and pick out the oysters with a little fork, but while I’m enjoying myself, I notice that Feisty is staring at her plate.

“Your food smells great,” I say. 

She takes a few bites, then stops.

“You need to eat and sleep every day,” I say, “You’re never going to get better if you don’t.”

“I’ll eat later.”

She asks the server for a to go box.

“This place is a rip,” she says when he walks away.

She grabs the glass carafe off the table, pours out the water, and stuffs it into her purse. I protest, but I let it go, I just want to leave without an incident.

On the Santa Monica Pier, the colorful spokes of the ferris wheel light up the night. We drive to my Airbnb in Venice Beach and it’s perfect, a small yellow cottage with white trim and a red door, one big room inside with a vaulted ceiling, a kitchenette, a bed, and a little living room area with a boxy gray couch. 

“That’s a Gretel couch,” Feisty says.

We sit on the floor in front of the space heater and drink beer. She opens her box of enchiladas and starts eating them, and I act like I don’t notice, but I’m relieved.

“It’s just nice to have a little money and to not have those fun squelchers around,” I say, referring to our exes. 

“They were paid actors,” Feisty says. “Todd was never happy with how much money we had, but he’ll miss me, I did a lot for him.”

It’s not long before she turns on me again.

“Every woman is jealous of me because I’m skinny and every guy wants to fuck me. I’m so sick of it!”

“Stop it! I’m not jealous of you! I spent a lot of money to get here, so don’t turn on me, you always turn on me!”

She leaves and I make tea in the little kitchenette and lie in bed, planning the next day. I’m not upset because I already knew Feisty would turn on me and I planned this vacation as if I’d be alone. That’s part of being a stoic, planning for the things that are going to go wrong, so you can handle them calmly. 

Tomorrow I’ll go to the fancy grocery store and walk through the canals to the beach. I’m excited to see the ocean and to feel the sun on my skin.

I don’t know what’s going to become of us. We have a little bit of money from our exes, but it’s not enough, and Feisty’s blowing through hers, still in a breakdown. 

All I can do is try to help her in little ways and enjoy myself while I can.

[belladoesmakeup]

Hi everyone,

While I was getting ready today I was picking out products that have been my favourite recently to do a glam look with and I wanted to share what those favourites are.

For my face base after having a little break I’ve gone back to using the Fenty Pro Filtr primer and foundation in shade 120. If I’m going out or have a long day at work this duo is something I can rely on to not shift during the day and not look faded during the day. The coverage is medium to full depending on your technic and how much coverage you want. Next off I pair these products with concealer now I’ve been swapping between 3 concealers. Under my eyes I use Fent Pro Filtr Comcesler im 120 because it effortlessly blends with the foundation and it’s designed to compliment the foundation. I tend to use either Fenty or Collection Lasting Pefect under my eyes for brightening. For blemishes I use Revolution Pro Full Coverage Concealer in c1, it is without a doubt the most full coverage concealer I’ve ever used I will be doing a more detailed review on this concealer very soon. Lastly I set my face with the Fenty Setting Powder in the shade butter, it has a blurring technique which leaves your skin looking flawless I use this product with all my foundations daily.

Next off we have eyes, I always prime my eyes with the Urban Decay Eyeshadow Eye Primer which is brilliant for holding eyeshadow all day. Recently I’ve been using two eyeshadows palette the first is Lottie London Rust Eyeshadow Palette, I love using the shimmers on this palette. The other palette I’ve been using is Urban Decay Naked Reloaded when I want a smokey nude look, this palette is great for creating day and night looks. For eyeliner I’ve been using Too Faced Better Than Sex which is a gorgous matte black formula that dries really quickly which I love so it really does have great lasting powder. On my browns I don’t like to use a lot of products so I just use the Benefit Grimme Brow which just sets my brows in place and also covers any powder that may have gone in my brows while putting on powder. Lastly for the eyes I use my trusty Benefit Roller Lash Mascara, this mascara always makes my eyes look massive and doesn’t transfer to on the undereyes.

After my powder has set and eyes are done I like to do the final touches. First off we have bronzer/ contour I tend to use Benefit Hoola Lite, this gives my face a bit of colour without it looking too overboard and is a great shade colour for pale people. Next I use Nars Blush in the shade Organsim which is a lovely pink shade, it has a lovely subtle shimmer to it as well which is great because some blushers look made on me. Highlighter is one of my favourite steps because it can really make your cheek bones pop. I use I Heart Revolution Rose Gold Highlight which is a set of two, one is a shimmer pink and the other is gold and their both a baked formula so the shine is crazy!!! The final step is lips, I always start off with the lush lip scrub to prep my lips and at the moment I’ve been using Charlotte Tilbury Pillow talk which is my favourite pink nude lipstick.

And there you have it all my favourite makeup products at the moment.

Lots of love

Bella x x

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Dark Phoenix

We owe a lot to the X-Men. Lest we forget the halcyon days of Y2K, superhero movies weren’t always a guaranteed blockbuster hit or taking up real estate at the multiplex for 80% of weeks in a given year. But some terrible CGI, brooding Canadian sideburns, and a terrible line about a toad and its relationship to lightning later and Marvel comics properties are suddenly in the conversation as a sure bet at the box office. And now it’s 2019 and the X-Men have had some...let’s say ups and downs. With Dark Phoenix, we’re allegedly saying goodbye to this crop of actors playing these superheroes. So was this a bittersweet farewell or a “don’t let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya” type situation? Well...

Somewhere in the middle, like when you see your uncle who used to give you piggyback rides and pull quarters from behind your ear when you were a kid but now you only see him at Thanksgiving and you only ever talk to him about 1) the weather 2) whether you’re still at the same job (you are) or 3) how good Aunt Judy’s pie was this year and he gets up to leave and you’re like “Oh you’re leaving? Well it was good to see you, drive safe!” and you share an awkward side-hug. 

Do you need a synopsis? It’s an X-Men movie. Mutants are getting up to mutant-y shit. Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) is all like “we can help the humans and they’ll like us if we save them from space disasters!” and Erik Lehnsherr is all like “mutants are better than humans and we should conquer them but since I’ve tried that a couple times and got caught I’m just gonna build a little island mutant utopia” and honestly both of them are kind of side characters in their own franchise which is a bummer because I think we can all agree that the Charles/Erik dichotomy is the beating heart of why people connect with this mythology. The main plot is about Jean Grey (Sophie Turner) getting dosed with a bunch of space energy that she can’t really control and shit happens and people get hurt and she’s like I like hurting people but also she doesn’t. Jessica Chastain is wasted as a woman with very ghost-like features who’s trying to convince Jean to use her powers for EEEVILLLL. You probably heard that this movie was terrible. It’s not. But it’s not good either. It just...is. Frankly, I feel very zen about the whole thing.

Many thoughts:

During the first opening narration, Sleepy Gay leaned over and said, “I already hate this.” And uh, that mood was about right for the narration throughout. Unless you’re doing a true film noir, you have to have a DAMN good reason besides laziness to have voiceover do this much heavy lifting.

#onlyninetieskidsremember the 1992 space shuttle because we don’t care about funding NASA anymore!

I know the production of this film was fraught, and there were some massive reshoots, which obviously means a quick and messy editing session. But that slapdash feel permeates the movie into even the most mundane scenes - an early example is Hank (Nicholas Hoult) turning into Beast at the end of a conversation to reply, “Yeah.” Was...was that necessary? Is that how he ends all his conversations? 

And the emotional beats feel really weird. Like when Jean gets back on the ship from space, the vibe feels completely wrong for the scene we just witnessed.

I will say, it’s a thing of beauty to see just how 10000% done Jennifer Lawrence is while she languishes in this movie with nothing to do but die (listen they spoiled that shit in the trailers, don’t @ me). Her snappy line, “The women are the only ones who do anything around here, maybe you should change the name to the X-Women” is delivered with such exasperated can-you-believe-we’re-still-doing-this spice, it’s just *chef kiss* gorgeous. 

In spite of all the crying she does in this film, Sophie Turner’s eye makeup is FLAWLESS. I want to know what eyeliner she uses. 

I’m feeling very uncomfortable with the fact that when I was a kid, I agreed with Charles on his whole “it’s our duty to protect the humans and show them we’re good” manifesto but now........idk, maybe it’s because Nazis are like, a big thing again, but I’m kinda with Magneto here? Maybe it’s the existential nightmare that’s swallowing us all but uh I just can’t really hang with respectability politics any more? This is like that moment in The Little Mermaid when Ariel says, “I’m 16 years old! I’m not a child anymore!” and you know where you’re at in life by whether you say, “Yeah, tell him Ariel!” or “Back those fins the fuck up and go to your room, young lady!”

Scott (Tye Sheridan) is just the most boring character and he has NO chemistry with Jean whatsoever. 

Question - if you have sex in the X-Men house, does Charles know? I’ll bet he does. What a perv.

In spite of his terrible conversation enders, I will say Nicholas Hoult is looking damn fine these days. DAMN fine. However - I’m a fan of his work overall, I really am, but he must have been having an off week when he filmed his angry grief confrontation with James McAvoy (a frankly incredible actor who elevates every single thing he’s in so...let that sink in). Going from quiet to loUD VERY QUICKLY over and over again is not the same as portraying grief, my dude.

I don’t understand why you would get an actress as magnetic and arresting as Jessica Chastain and then make her act like the love child of a ghost-robot one night stand. Her only sparks of something interesting are when she’s doing the big energy transfer with Sophie Turner, because frankly, that read as very homoerotic to me so like...into it.

Wait but did they hurt that dog. There’s no resolution about the dog and that is VERY upsetting.

How are we this far in the franchise and no one has told anyone involved in production “So uh. The floating thing the mutants do when they enter or exit a room in a big scene. Are you guys like...married to that? Have you thought about maybe not having floating be such a big part of the final emotional confrontation between Jean and everyone she’s ever loved trying to destroy her?” Because if there’s one thing I know of that creates and amplifies dramatic tension, it’s floating.

Is Michael Fassbender the most handsome man alive in these movies? It’s possible. At one point he’s in a collar and that really felt like someone involved in that script punch up was giving the fans anything at that point to keep them engaged, but I’m not complaining about it. 

How many fights have these X-Men been in? Isn’t the first day of X-Men school devoted to “Don’t make significant eye contact during a fight!”

Did I Cry? I probably should have, but the most I got was a slight tearing up. 

Overall, this is a mess. It’s kind of a fun mess if you already like the characters, and there’s certainly some eye candy for those interested in all genders. If you like the other films, give this one a gander just for completionist reasons and try to remember the good old days when X-Men actually meant something.

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[hyumjim]

ok I am home and im really excited for x1′s debut. but im gonna have to wait for that obviously so im gonna do my up10tion discography review now. and I'll do victon too if I have time lol. I'm watching their mvs basically in whatever order youtube wants me to.

blue rose (2018): I didn’t love this at first sight, I just kept thinking about how wooseok is sexy. and, I don’t really understand the concept for this video lol. but, the choreo for this song looks really tight, I will have to watch some performance videos to appreciate their dancing. and the instrumentation actually sounds cool especially at the end, like after the last chorus. I wish they had turned up those guitars a little more and had less of that like, thrumming EDM sound. ah, also jinhyuk is a really talented rapper, I think his verses will always be the highlight of these songs for me.

white night (2016): it opens on wooseok in a sexy hockey player outfit, u know I am into a sexy hockey concept. also Wooseok’s eyeliner and black hair make him look so much younger, he gives me baby bts vibes, it’s adorable. this song is okay I guess, I REALLY DONT KNOW BECAUSE I GOT SO DISTRACTED AS SOON AS SOMI SHOWED UP. SOMI??? SOMI???? Jeon Somi????? wow they got Somi to be in this video. I love Somi, she’s so cute. OMG THERES SEXY HOMOEROTIC BLEEDING AND HOLDING EACH OTHER AT THE END. im not sure what all of these scenes of them sexily playing hockey have to do with Somi but im here for it. also one of the non-jinhyuk non-wooseok members kind of resembles jungkook--  I think his name is Kogyeol? the one with Somi at the end? I dont know. ummm im VERY OVERSTIMULATED BY THIS VIDEO and I have no idea if I liked the song or not. wow. what a video though. it told a STORY!!! SOMI WAS IN IT. WOW!

so, dangerous (2015): this is their debut song right? the stupid punctuation drives me crazy first of all lol. the intro to this video gives me debut BTS in almost every way-- from the black and white filter to the school uniform type outfits to the siren noises-- it’s a good thing they didn’t keep that up for the whole video or they would have fielded a lot of plagiarism accusations... yamma ni ggumeun mwoni (MWONI)... but I think I actually would have preferred it to the sound of this track which is pretty generic techno pop. what else can I say, other than wooseok is beautiful

catch me! (2015): FINALLY a song that actually slaps!!! this goes the hardest out of all these songs so far it’s just a cute little bop and we appreciate it. wooseok is saddled with an unfortunate firetruck red bowl cut here but his beauty still cannot be contained. a couple of other guys are showing visuals here though. Kuhn and.... Kogyeol again. jinhyuk appears to be about 5 years old in this video. anyway this is the first song I genuinely like at first listen, what's next

attention (2016): OMG this is a really good song. I genuinely enjoyed listening to this in its entirety and will put it on my playlist. that being said, the lyrics are fucking psychotic and I think I would have enjoyed it more if I had subs off lol. but anyway, im going to say what we are all thinking: GAY CHOREO GAY CHOREO GAY CHOREO GAY CHOREO. seriously even if you don’t know who up10tion are, just look up this music video and go to about 0:40, you will thank me.

tonight (2016): aren’t you guys like.... a little old for this concept? lol. wooseok is so cute that I don’t care though... it’s all worth it for u my king

candyland (2018): they look so good and they all seem much more confident onscreen compared to their old videos, and I love that for them! the only thing is, there’s almost no candy in this video about candy land. I mean I get it, the song is about sex, and I guess they didn’t want to be ambiguous about it, but I just was expecting to see some candy LOL (aside from candy wooseok!!! my delicious Swedish fish)

runner (2017): I really couldn't pay attention to this because wooseok wasn’t in it. I'm sorry, I'll try to be better. this is an okay song I think

going crazy (2017): they all look really good in this video especially in the black and white segments. I wish they would do more “story” type concepts for videos though, I don’t understand any of the symbolism LMAO. also wish I could like this song, it is pretty dull.

lmao I spent way too much time on this so even though they have other videos (for their Japan releases etc) I'll end it here. overall quite a few of these songs were very nice and NONE OF THEM WERE TERRIBLE

[rgr-pop]

Hi! I just cut off all my hair and am very excited about it!! I now have a curly dyke floppy front short sides and it makes me want to get back into a little eye make up. Do you have a mascara (either drug store or mini) or a brown, smudge-friendly eyeliner suggestion? I haven’t worn makeup regularly in like five years but when I did I liked benefit marches and still eyeliner. I’m pretty imprecise at putting on eyeliner and I just want something to emphasize my brown eyes a little. Thank you!!

hey, congrats! i can give you some tips on mascara but not very many on eyeliner (i’m on the hunt myself and not very good at it, i also don’t smudge my liner very often but i can try this with a few kinds i have and report back with a review). 

it seems like if you aren’t very picky about longevity and prefer a smudgy pencil, you’ll probably have plenty of options at the drugstore--if you start cheap you can figure out your face chemistry’s needs as far as long-wearing! and that kind of thing is the main difference between lower and higher end. probably everything you might look at will come in a brown, fortunately! i strongly recommend trying a green or a blue, too, for your brown eyes! short hair + bright blue liner is the most iconic look.

some drugstore liners i have liked include the nyx slide-on liners (nyx has a million different liners at different price points, quality varies widely), various milani eyeliners, jordana if you can find it (try walgreens). some options will come with a smudging end (like this l’oreal one, which seems to have decent reviews), which could be nice for the look you’re going for. i’d probably be willing to take a chance on the essence or l.a girl liners, for that price! if you don’t like it at $2.50 then you can try something else. the eyeliner i’m most interested in right now are these pixi ones (sold at target), which i have heard nice things about, though they are pricier. at the higher end, i love the urban decay 24/7 pencils (everyone does!) which are very versatile. temptalia used to swear by these sephora brand pencils. i love those stila smudge sticks a lot, but i think you can maybe get more versatility with a sharpenable pencil? really, if i was in your position i would feel similarly overwhelmed but the drugstore is the way to go. others might disagree, but i personally have never been impressed with the elf eyeliners, so i’d probably skip them even though the cheapness will tempt you!

followers: what are the best smudgy eyeliners?

mascara... my preferences are legendarily specific and picky and i unfortunately have extremely expensive taste. (search my blog for long accounts of my quest if you are interested.) luckily i can tell you exactly what normal people like: at the drugstore, almost everyone swears by l’oreal lash paradise (pink tube) and essence’s lash princess (there are a few different varieties of lash princess but they all seem pretty well liked depending on your preference, the most popular are the purple and green with i think the green being the favorite). the essence ones are hell of cheap, i’d recommend starting with either of these. a lot of people also like the regular l’oreal voluminous in the dark tube, covergirl lash blast and covergirl clump crusher. honestly, unless you try some of these and hate them (we can go from there), there is no reason to spend any more money on mascara! howeverrr if you want to spend money on mascara for some reason, i always recommend lancome as the best mascara brand overall, but too faced’s better than sex is like the alleged most popular. (i do not like better than sex not because it performed poorly but because i only want my eyelashes to look like long soft skinny centipedes.) if you try something cheap and report back on what you liked and didn’t like we can probably tailor a suggestion to you! i too have liked a lot of benefit mascaras in the past and i believe you can probably find most in mini sizes, but honestly they have impressed me less and less recently, and i have heard such progress has been made at the drugstore! 

followers: what are your favorite dependable drugstore mascaras to recommend to a regular person (ie not me)?