#because otherwise you woulda reached the fucking point of the fucking post

[takaraphoenix]

It’s not like you’re contractually obligated to read every single post in a tag.

But, I don’t know, if you feel like screenshotting it to post and complain that going through the tag is a hassle in a manner that suggests the post is inappropriately crosstagged, maybe you should read it, after all.

Or just, like a normal fucking person, scroll past posts that are too long for you to engage with and move on with your life instead of screenshotting them to complain. I mean what the fuck.

[archer3-13]

I think, and this occurs to me recently after watching his fantastic speech for the ten billionth time, what i woulda wanted from edelgard as a character is basically whats going on with gaius baelsar in final fantasy xiv [specifically during a realm reborn phase of things]. because strip away a lot of the context around the two characters and there is a surprising amount of similarities.

both have a firm might makes right attitude driving the core majority of their beliefs and world view

both are characters who utterly detest religion and deities as things the weak cling to as a means of compensating for their own shortcomings

both have an "I alone can fix it" attitude about the world around them and thus believe in the righteousness of their own actions by virtue of the ends they aim to achieve. the ends justify the means mindsets.

by virtue of their ends justify the means mindsets both ally with scary dark magic secret society advanced manipulator type groups as means of procuring short term advantages such as super weapons, with the justification that they can deal with and eradicate the evil mole people later once their immediate objectives are fulfilled. They both do this despite utterly detesting the group they ally with because they perceive those people as less dangerous then they actually are.

well both aim to be utterly ruthless in the prosecution of their objectives, they are more sensitive to their subordinates needs and fates then they would otherwise like themselves to be even as they sacrifice those subordinates to achieve their goals.

both genuinely believe in the empires of their settings as forces for good in the world that need to expand and conquer lesser nations because only under their glorious hegemony can the course of the world and history be rightly hemmed.

The difference that makes me like gaius quite a lot well being fairly indifferent to edelgard however, comes down to I think a matter of presentation.

Gaius is fierce, bold, forward with what he believes and why he acts the way he does. His very presence steals the show of whatever scene he tends to show up in both in a metaphorical and a very deliberate sense of emphasizing him in the framing of any given scene. hes unapologetic, making an overture to you the player to join him because your so awesome yes, but its very much in the sense of becoming an instrument of his will as he treads the path to glory. and when you refuse he admires you all the more for it and proudly and loudly declares how defeating you will prove not only his righteousness but his supremacy over any and all who might try to impede his path.

edelgard is quite, demure even in most of her scenes. she gets a few speeches sure but they dont ever really reach the level of roaring bombast that gaius puts into every fucking line. its to the point that I would argue shes demphasized whenever shes on screen. this isnt to say shes some waifish stuttering introverted mess mind, but i think its very telling that her presence in the grondor cg both pre but especially post timeskip is not only fairly minimal but also emphasized to be reserved or hesitant in the brief moment she does appear. that doesnt speak of a bold conqueror to me, that speaks of a distant almost imperceptible ruler. someone whos either got a layer of armour on so thick as to be unapproachable or who's just a tool in a larger game they're powerless to stop [especially that second portion of things]. oh player san, why must we fight? i just wanted to walk on your path... and maybe hold your hand... and all that malarkey.

and that, that I think is the difference in what makes me vastly prefer one over the other. gaius gets to be the master of his own destiny even as he fucks ups, a figure to be admired even when coming into inevitable conflict with him because of his extreme ambitions. edelgard isn't presented in that manner despite otherwise being treated narratively like she is that. in terms of presentations shes emphasized to not be the master of her own destiny, to be someone pitied and cried over. she couldn't help it, shes just a pawn of destiny and the grand game. and that's bullshit because she very much is an active agent within the narrative. a discordance between presentation and writing. and that sucks.

[drawacharge]

emperor’s new clothes

ok so hi. this has been sitting in my drafts for a .... while. and i’m gonna’ post it bc it’s long lmao. i also had an idea for a valentine’s day esque nsfw sequel to this but idk?? btw, just a warning-- this is in steve’s pov and billy’s pov is my comfort zone so if it sucks Sorry 

There’s something about almost dying too many times that makes the rest of the world around you seem minuscule. It makes school even more boring than before, it makes sleeping a distant memory, and pure, genuine laughter harder to come by. There are too many days Steve spends in class, the teacher droning on and on about Darwin and Natural Extinction Theory and all he wants to do is stand up and go, “Do you have any idea what’s out there? We’re in here, studying bullshit, and out there, right now, are things that wanna’ kill us, that know how, that will—“ but he doesn’t, because he signed too many legal wavers to count, because if he does they’d just throw him into a mental facility. So he sits and stays quiet instead, swallowing back all his anxiety and fear of the unknown and known, sleep-deprived eyes staring out the nearest window as if he expects something nasty with claws to walk on by.

Nothing ever does. Jane closed the gate.

Somehow, that’s worse.

Everyone else seems happy with the peace. The kids smile and laugh and ask Steve to take them to the arcade constantly. Nancy has never seemed happier, walking hand in hand with Jonathan. Jane has more freedom that she’s ever had, visiting her friends, learning about the world. Joyce and Hopper get closer every day, enjoying each other’s company, maybe even finding solace in it. Maybe that’s part of it. Maybe the kids use each other to deal with their shit. Maybe Nancy and Jonathan use each other too. They’ve all been through hell, the only difference was after it was all said and done Steve was the only one left completely alone.

He feels dead. He thinks, maybe, he’s felt wrong since the first time he took that bat to the Demogorgon, but this is different. Worse. He doesn’t feel like anything. He doesn’t feel angry, or sad, or even really scared, not anymore. There’s nothing there. And maybe that’s the only thing nowadays that actually scares him: the fact that nothing does.

It’s mid-January when he finally decides to do something about it. When the emptiness gets so bad he almost skips an entire week of school. When Mrs. Leery, his English teacher, calls him over after class and says, “Steve, your grade has been going steadily downhill. Is anything the matter?” with an expression so soft and concerned, that all Steve can manage is a tight smile and a, “Just tired,” before giving some half-assed promise that he’d try harder.

He does try too. He’s been trying since the beginning of fucking November. But he falls asleep when he should be reading Of Mice and Men, and it’s not even that boring of a book.  He knows something has to change, that something in him is broken and he needs to fix it before he’s nothing but some vague shadow of what he used to be.

Steve realizes just how he’s going to do that when he’s getting the mail one day. Billy Hargrove speeds by in his Camaro, probably going twenty over the speed limit, Tommy, Carol, and two other girls hanging out of the Camaro whooping, hollering, and laughing as the wind whips through them. Steve thinks he’s never seen a group of people seem so alive. He remembers when that used to be him driving, him hanging out the window, him laughing. It was a shallow happiness, perhaps, but it was happiness.

And he decides he wants that back

He knows where to start, and it’s not hard. Steve’s known Tommy since before puberty, and he knows that even if Tommy feels sorry for something he’ll never apologize first. Every fight they’ve ever had has led to Steve outside his door, an apology on his lips. Only then does Tommy apologize too and only then do they move the fuck on. Steve hopes that, even after a year of not speaking, that fact hasn’t changed.

He brings beer with him, just in case.

Tommy opens the door on the third knock and scowls when he sees Steve. Then he sees the beer and the scowl shifts, eyebrows raising in interest. “Want something?”

“To apologize,” he holds out the beer immediately, offers a halfhearted smile. “I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat that day. You were—“ in his own way “—you were trying to have my back.” And he really was, Steve knew that. Maybe not in the best way, maybe not in the nicest way, but he was.

There’s a long pause where Tommy just eyes him, like he’s considering, and then he reaches out for the beer and steps aside, wordlessly inviting Steve in. “Yeah, well… I coulda’ handled it better,” he’s grumbling, words half muttered. If Steve wasn’t an expert in Tommy Language he’d have to ask him to repeat himself. “I woulda’ been pissed if you’d said all that shit about Carol too, just—“ he takes a breath, starts walking towards the steps to the basement where they’d always hang out. “—I knew she wasn’t fucking good enough for you man. I knew she’d hurt you.”

And. 

That’s fair too, honestly. Tommy had known what kind of person Steve could be. How sensitive. How trusting. People assume their friendship had been shallow, but it really hadn’t been. Not always. Steve still remembered the way Tommy cried on his shoulder when they were kids and his dog was hit by a car. There was meaning there. Trust. 

They’re down stairs and Steve is cracking open two cans, holding one out when he goes, “Guess I should’ve listened to you,” before downing about half of it in one go. Tommy follows suit and wipes his mouth before glancing over his shoulder and then back at Steve, a grin pulling at his lips.

“How about I kick your ass at air hockey again? That always cheers you up.”

“Pretty sure that cheers you up,” Steve says, and Tommy laughs. “But sure, why not.”

Steve loses, five to two, but he feels like he’s won anyway.

Billy Hargrove quickly becomes his main problem. Of course, Steve knew he would be before he even found himself on Tommy’s doorstep. Billy did not like him, and the feeling was mutual. They had barely talked since the incident at the Byers’ and Steve was happy with that. He could handle the sneers and even the shoving during basketball. Billy had laid off the kids for the most part and that’s all that mattered to him.

Luckily, Tommy has more sway with Billy than Steve originally thought. He assumed their friendship was more symbiotic than anything. Billy claimed the crown that had been abandoned, and Tommy found it easier to follow than not. It was a familiar position for him, after all. But it seemed like a little more than that. When Tommy invites him over to eat with them that Monday, Steve’s actually surprised that Billy allows it. That he frowns, but otherwise ignores Steve, keeping his attention on the rest of the team. He doesn’t look at Steve again for the rest of lunch.

It’s not good enough.

For it to really be right, or this to work, Billy has to like him. Steve isn’t sure how to accomplish that, hell, he isn’t even sure if he wants to, but it’s necessary. 

He starts with buying them all alcohol. He pays for the booze, the weed, offers up his giant, empty house and heated pool. It’s how he woo’d Carol, even Tommy when they were kids ( minus the alcohol and weed ), and most of anyone else at school. He thinks it’ll work on Billy too.

It doesn’t.

Billy drinks his booze, and he smokes his weed, and he swims in his pool. But when it’s all said and done he still sneers at Steve, still ignores him at lunch, still checks him too hard at practice and mocks him in the middle of random conversations.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Steve grumbles one night, laid out on the couch in Tommy’s basement. His head is in Carol’s lap and she’s playing with his hair. It’s nice. Not something he’s had since Nancy. He missed it.

Also, they’re all really fucking high. He missed that too. Getting high with his friends. 

“I’ve tried to be friendly, even after the bullshit he pulled--” 

Everyone knows that they fought. Or at least, they figured they did since Steve showed up to school that Monday looking like he got hit by a truck, and Billy showed up with a black eye and busted knuckles. It didn’t take long for the student body to put two and two together and guess who won. 

“I don’t think he’s impressed by money,” Tommy says from the floor. He’s leaning back against the couch, head on the cushion, and a joint between his lips. “I mean, he’s poor as shit,” he continues bluntly, “like Byers level poor.” Steve shoots him a look and Tommy holds a hand up in mild surrender. He doesn’t see why Steve is protective of them, especially after Jonathan and Nancy, but he’s gotten better about how he talks about them anyway. 

“Wouldn’t that make him like... want to be around it?” Carol questions. It’s a natural conclusion for three well-off teens to come to, but Steve’s learned enough over his last year of bettering himself to know that’s not always true. He thinks maybe Tommy has a point. 

“You should like. Be real with him.” He leans his head further back until the back of it is leaning against Steve’s knee. “I don’t think he likes bullshit.”

Steve thinks about that night at the Byers’ and how Billy seemed furious that Steve lied about Max being there. He thinks about Nancy going you’re bullshit and wonders if maybe she wasn’t that far off. After all, he spent an entire year pretending everything was okay, and before that he pretended like having absentee parents didn’t bother him. Hell, he still did that sometimes.

“No bullshit,” Steve sighs, and reaches for the joint when Tommy offers it out. “I can do that.” 

Tommy throws a party that next weekend. It’s his and Carol’s anniversary so they celebrate it in the way they know best: by making everyone else celebrate for them. They get booze and pot and set the house up so that all of Tommy’s mom’s breakables are hidden away. Billy arrives thirty minutes before the party dressed to the nines and with a keg. Steve wonders how he can stand wearing an open shirt in fucking January but doesn’t bother asking.

Six hours later the party is headed into the A.M. and Steve’s completely fucking wasted when he beats Billy as beer pong and grins like he won Olympic gold. Billy looks just about ready to kill him, and Steve can tell he’s significantly less drunk than him and wonders why since Billy always seems to get shit-faced at these kinds of things. 

Billy leaves to grab a smoke outside, and Steve-- in all his drunken genius-- decides this is the best time to approach him.

It’s not.

There’s something dangerous in Billy’s eyes when he sizes him up, something that reminds Steve of that night, something wild. He asks what the fuck Billy’s problem with him is anyway, and Billy grins in the kind of way that reminds Steve of a shark. He gets real close, encroaching on Steve’s personal space, and he can’t help but think about Darwin and the Natural Extinction Theory. How man is just stupid enough to kill itself. How, right now, Steve is the perfect fucking example of that.

“My problem with you,” Billy breathes, right in his face, smelling like beer and cigarettes, “is that you’re a little spoiled rich boy who’s used to getting everything he wants.” Steve opens his mouth to argue, to say that if he really got everything he wanted he’d still have Nancy and not nightmares. That he’d have parents who loved him and a father who didn’t think he was a failure. But, Billy continues. “And now, what? You’ve decided you wanna’ be king again, yeah? That it? Make Hill think you give a shit about him--”

“I do.”

“Bullshit,” Billy snarls, flecks of spit hitting Steve in the face, almost making him flinch. “Your girl dumped you for a freak and now you’re desperate for friends and fans again. So, here you are, making nice, buying them whatever they want just so they’ll like you--” 

“Fuck you,” he hisses back, “I’m not. I missed Tommy and Carol--” and he had, in the same weird way they had probably missed him. “--you’re just their baggage I have to deal with.” It’s fucked up. He knows it’s fucked up as soon as he says it, nasty and not what Steve meant to do when he came out here. And it gets him punched in the face.

No surprise there.

He probably deserves it.

Steve reels back, his jaw fucking aching, and Billy prowls in close, grinning wide like a great white, like he had that night. He must not expect Steve to hit back, because the punch actually lands and Billy looks fucking surprised when he rights himself. 

“Is that you’re fucking problem?” Steve demands, filling the space Billy had stumbled back out of. “You think I wanna’ be king again? That I’m gonna’ push you out--”

Billy laughs, “You couldn’t even if you wanted to.” But Steve thinks he’s wrong, and he thinks Billy knows he’s wrong. They were both charismatic, both handsome, but Steve was nicer. He was friendlier, more easy going, and at the end of the day that’s someone everyone would rather follow than someone like Billy. Some angry, aggressive, and volatile. Someone they fear. They both know it, and it’s clear on Billy’s face even when he says the opposite. 

“Newsflash, I don’t care about being king.” And he doesn’t, he actually really doesn’t. He just-- “I just don’t wanna’ be alone, anymore.” And it’s probably the pussiest thing he could have said. I don’t wanna’ be alone, like some kind of fucking girl. He expects Billy to laugh at him, to make fun of him, maybe punch him again, maybe shove him back and go inside to tell everyone what a little bitch Steve Harrington is. 

He does laugh. But it’s after a moment of surprise, and the sound is more dry than it is mean. “You’re a fucking piece of work, Harrington.” Billy sighs, and looks up at the night sky like there’s something up there beside stars before looking back down. “And I’m watching you.”

And with that, the most ominous thing Steve’s ever fucking heard, Billy saunters back inside. 

Only after the door has shut behind him and Steve tastes copper does he realize his nose is bleeding.

That Monday they’re all sitting at the lunch table when Billy asks Tommy if he’s seen the new Rambo yet. He hasn’t, and while Carol wrinkles her nose at all the violence, she admits that Sylvester Stallone is pretty hot, so she’ll tag along if they go to see it. Steve doesn’t comment, figuring if Billy’s inviting people then he’s not going. He’s thinking about taking the kids when Billy looks at him and goes, “You gonna’ come?” And Steve’s so fucking surprised it takes him a second to find himself and go, “Yeah, sure.”

That Thursday Billy eats his lunch like a man starving. Without thinking, Steve offers up his meatloaf and Billy stares at him like he’s crazy but takes it anyway. In response, Billy offers up his applesauce and he accepts it, feeling not like he’s won, but that he might be close. 

“I think he doesn’t eat at home sometimes,” Tommy says while Steve’s BMW is idling in the McDonald’s drive-thru. They’d been talking about Billy’s massive appetite, and how it even puts theirs to shame. “He eats my entire pantry every time he comes over.”

Steve frowns and thinks about it before he’s leaning back out the window and ordering two more burgers, fries, and nuggets. Tommy doesn’t comment on it, but he shoots Steve a look when they get back and Billy goes, “What’s with the extra food?” and Steve shrugs and replies, “Must of got the order wrong.”

A week later he’s driving Dustin home from school and figures something is wrong because the kid isn’t jabbering like normal. He almost looks like he’s pouting, eyes out the window. Finally, Steve can stand it anymore, “What’s up, man?” He never thought he’d be bothered by Dustin being quiet, but he is. 

With his arms crossed over his chest, Dustin purses his lips like he doesn’t want to say, but when Steve prods him he finally blurts, “Are you going to turn back into a douchebag?” And Steve’s, well, Steve’s caught a bit off guard because he definitely hadn’t expected that, figuring maybe it had to do with Max. 

“You used to think I was a douchebag?”

Leveling him with a look that says seriously? Dustin goes, “Uh, I didn’t think you were one, you were . Before Nancy you were all look at me I’m so cool, and you hung out with Tommy Hill, and now you are again and with Billy Hargrove of all people, and--” 

“Whoa man,” Steve breathes with a little laugh, “Cool your jets, okay? I’m not--”

“He kicked your ass!”

“I know.”

“And threatened Lucas!”

“I know!”

“Then what are you doing?” Dustin demands, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Did he knock something loose when he punched you? ‘Cause, like, he’s not a cool dude, and you-- if you hang out with him you might--” 

“Dustin,” he sighs, pulling up to the others’ house. Steve puts the BMW in park but doesn’t unlock the doors just yet. “I’m not... look, you’re right. I was probably a total douchebag.” Especially to a kid. “But I’m not going to just... change back, okay? I just... need people that aren’t kids or my ex to hang out with.”

“But we’re cool kids.”

He laughs a little, and it’s more fond than mean. “You are,” and okay, Dustin and the rest of the party are total dorks, but they’re cool dorks, and while Steve would never tell anyone that except Dustin, it’s still true. “But it’s not the same.”

And he thinks Dustin must agree on some level, because instead of immediately arguing he just pouts, taking a breath and blowing out his cheeks while he thinks. Then he finally he goes, “Fine,” before adding, “But if you start turning into a douchebag again I’m like totally gonna’ hit you or six El on you. Or something.”

Again, Steve laughs, “Man, if I start acting like that again I encourage you to hit me and/or six El on me, okay?” Dustin nods, seemingly okay with that deal, but just in case--

“Hey-- how about I take you and the other brats to the mall on Saturday?”

Dustin immediately brightens at that, “The one outta’ town?”

“Yup. You guys just have to ask your parents if it’s okay.”

“Totally! I’ll let the guys know! Hopefully Hopper will let El go too. Thanks Steve,” and then he’s hopping out the car and heading for his house with a quick wave as a good-bye. Steve waits until he’s safely in before driving on home.

The very next day Dustin tells him that Max’s mom said she can’t go unless Billy comes to look after her. “It’s stupid,” he huffs, “She’s safer with you than she’d ever be with Billy,” and even though Steve doesn’t disagree with that point he’s heard enough about Max’s parents to know there’s no arguing with them.

“Okay. Billy will come then.” And Dustin looks so fucking betrayed that he can’t help but laugh. “What? You want Max to come, don’t you?” 

A pause then, “Fine. But you gotta’ like. Keep his ass in line, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, shithead, I got it.”

Convincing Billy to go with him and six kids out of town won’t be easy, though.

He figures the next party coming up will be the best time. It’s right before Saturday, and Steve hadn’t planned on going for the sake of his pride, but a drunk Billy is a Billy more likely to accept Steve’s proposal. He was always nicer drunk. Okay, no he wasn’t, but... he may be more agreeable. If he’s drunk enough.

And friendly enough.

“A Valentine’s Day party?” Billy asks, nose wrinkling at the flier Steve had just stuck in his hands. 

“Singles party,” Steve corrects, and Billy somehow looks more disgusted.

“Those are a thing?”

“Well,” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Steve shrugs. “Last one Lisa threw was like? When we were fifteen? Then she got into a relationship with Jimmy P, but they broke up in December, so--”

“So she’s throwing a singles party.Yeah, no thanks.” Billy pushes the flier towards Steve’s chest. “Sounds pathetic. I’d rather get wasted at the quarry.”

“That’s pathetic too.” He points out, “And at Lisa’s the booze and food will be free. Plus it’s mostly an excuse to get wasted, make out with people, then never talk about it come Monday morning.” That wasn’t a lie. Steve had probably kissed a countless number of girls the last time the party was thrown. Hell, he was pretty sure he kissed Tommy too, but that was three years ago and Steve decided he was too drunk to remember it. 

Billy barks a laugh and Steve thinks maybe he’s convinced him, “God, that’s fucking ridiculous. Why do you want me to go so bad?”

“Because, I want to go.” Okay, he actually doesn’t. It is pathetic. “But Tommy and Carol can’t go, and you’re single so--” he shrugs again, reaches out to nudge the paper against Billy’s hands. His knuckles are cut up again. It’s the second time that month and Steve wonders who’s the unlucky soul that's been on the other end.  “Okay. What do I get if I do?” 

“Pot?”

“I got pot, and Cali pot is better than Indiana pot.” Fair. 

In all honesty, Steve had no idea what to give him. He can’t think of anything so he settles for, “I’ll owe you one,” and a smile that promises just about anything Billy could want. It’s a good deal, so good that Steve’s almost nervous about making it. What kind of favor would Hargrove ask of him one day?

Billy, of course, brightens at the suggestion. “You’ll owe me one,” he repeats. “Alright, pretty boy, you got yourself a deal.”

[hexiewrites]

Hamilton is a Gryffindor. That is all

why would you ask me, a harry potter rare pair shipping blog, this

actually I’m assuming it’s because of @nymphadoraholtzmann‘s slytherin edit with hamilton lyrics? which like… she chose because I think those particular lyrics really epitomize slytherin.

but look. you came into my inbox, so pull up a chair, my dude, and let’s chat.

hamilton is a slytherin. hamilton is a slytherin. if we’re going by @sortinghatchats‘s system (they already did a great post on this here) then yeah, he’s a gryffindor secondary. but - I’m going to just stick to the simple, basic, primary house sorting system.

right, let’s start from the top. (read more, because, like I said: harry potter blog. and because this got wildly out of hand.)

to first get this out of the way. what is a slytherin? according to the harry potter wikia, pulled from the books and pottermore:

Slytherins tend to be ambitious, shrewd, cunning, strong leaders, and achievement-oriented. They also have highly developed senses of self-preservation.

According to Albus Dumbledore, the qualities which Salazar valued in the students he chose included cleverness, resourcefulness, determination, and “a certain disregard for the rules.”

a lot of these are similar qualities to gryffindors, but the basis is the underlying intent: for slytherins, they’re guided by ambition, self-preservation, and achieving their goals. gryffindors are brave and daring to the point of recklessness, and are often seen as pointlessly heroic and having no regards for the rules, though this is more because of their daring rather than slytherin’s, which is: are the rules in my way? if not, whatever. if so? fuck em. gryffindors are more like, rules? FUCK EM. (see: harry literally always. hermione brewing polyjuice, setting teachers on fire, knitting scarves for house elves). it’s a subtle difference, but a big one, and one I think people mix up a lot.

right. so. onto alexander hamilton.

The ten-dollar Founding Father without a fatherGot a lot farther by working a lot harderBy being a lot smarterBy being a self-starter

if this doesn’t immediately, second verse in, tell you that he is an ambitious cunning fucker I don’t know what would

Inside, he was longing for something to be a part ofThe brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter

literally you could replace this stanza with: 'Or perhaps in Slytherin, you’ll make your real friends. Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.’ and nothing would be different.

Alexander HamiltonMy name is Alexander HamiltonAnd there’s a million things I haven’t doneBut just you wait, just you wait…

we hear this same line a LOT throughout the play but here is the basics: ambitious. as. fuck.

Left him with nothin’ but ruined pride, something new insideA voice saying “Alex, you gotta fend for yourself.”

Slytherin’s pride is hugely important - and Alex has just learned here he’s gotta do it for himself from now on. self-preservation is a major slytherin quality.

There would have been nothin’ left to doFor someone less astuteHe woulda been dead or destitute

^ most people in his situation would have died. he became a founding father of america. ambitious as fuck. and cunning too - in order to work himself out of an otherwise more or less deadly situation.

Scammin’ for every book he can get his hands onPlannin’ for the future see him now as he stands on

ambitious, cunning, and with a certain disrespect for the rules - no?

God, I wish there was a war!Then we could prove that we’re worth moreThan anyone bargained for…

Alexander arrives in new york city and all he wants to do is to shoot some shit and prove that he is more than anyone expects from him.

from my shot:

I’m ‘a get a scholarship to King’s CollegeI prob’ly shouldn’t brag, but dag, I amaze and astonish…I’m a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coalTryin’ to reach my goal.…Don’t be shocked when your hist’ry book mentions meI will lay down my life if it sets us freeEventually, you’ll see my ascendancy…I never had a group of friends beforeI promise that I’ll make y’all proud

things we learn from the above: Hamilton does not have much humility. he is great and he knows it. he knows he can also improve, and he is aiming for a specific obtainable goal. he expects to be remembered, that people will know his name. he will lay down his life - but like mentioned above, only if he becomes a martyr for this. (swap this with our prime gryffindor harry, who snuck off quietly into the night to sacrifice himself and probably would be mortified when he ended up in a textbook). he now has friends and one of his main goals has become making them proud. there is so much slytherin in these lines I can’t handle it.

I know the action in the street is excitin’But Jesus, between all the bleedin’ ‘n fightin’I’ve been readin’ ‘n writin’We need to handle our financial situationAre we a nation of states? What’s the state of our nation?I’m past patiently waitin’. I’m passionatelySmashin’ every expectationEvery action’s an act of creation!

a gryffindor would be in the middle of the action, the bleeding and the fighting. sometimes alex is, for sure! but: he wants to be in the war to make a NAME for himself, to achieve his goals of power and legacy. a gryffindor just would want to be there because, to keep it short, that’s where the party is. alex has also stepped back to look at the big picture: he wants to make america the best it can be, and he’s already realized he needs to go about that differently - through reading, writing, and changing the financial set up of the country. and he is blowing away everyones expectations of him.

[WASHINGTON]It’s alright, you want to fight, you’ve got a hungerI was just like you when I was youngerHead full of fantasies of dyin’ like a martyr?

[HAMILTON]Yes

dying like a martyr. he is in this war to prove himself and to make a name for himself. he believes in the cause, yes, but it is about a lot more than that.

[HAMILTON]You need all the help you can getI have some friends. Laurens, MulliganMarquis de Lafayette, okay, what else?

[WASHINGTON & COMPANY]Outnumbered, outplanned!

[HAMILTON]We’ll need some spies on the insideSome King’s men who might let some things slideI’ll write to Congress and tell ‘em we need supplies, you rally the guys,Master the element of surpriseI’ll rise above my station, organize your information, ‘til we rise to the occasion of our new nation. Sir!

hamilton, come up with a plan! hamilton; hm, okay, my friends can help because slytherin loyalty. and oh, let’s get some spies in there, because that is the cunning move. and then I’m going to do everything you need to accomplish your goal even though it is not exactly what I want and while I do it I will rise above my station because that is what ambitious people do.

(I feel like I’m getting repetitive but also I am on a roll, so…)

let’s talk about the iconic:

If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it

this is so fucking sly I can’t get over it. he totally prepared this line, and it worked. because it’s smooth and suave, but it gives some stuff away too. part of why he’s fighting and involved in the war? to find a (preferably rich) woman to marry to, once again, help him climb the social ladder.

[HAMILTON]You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied

[ANGELICA]I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself

[HAMILTON]You’re like me. I’m never satisfied

[ANGELICA]Is that right?

[HAMILTON]I have never been satisfied

another incredibly slytherin exchange. sly and cunning again, what a way to introduce yourself to a beautiful woman! who you know comes from a family with money, at that! and also, I have never been satisfied - because his ambitions are much larger than himself right now. how could he be satisfied when he has not yet achieved his goals?

[HAMILTON]Well, I don’t have your name. I don’t have your titlesI don’t have your landBut, if you—

[WASHINGTON]No—

[HAMILTON]If you gave me command of a battalion, a group of men to lead, I could fly above my station after the war

we’re finally learning some more about what his ambitions are, which is to say: he wants to rise above his station. he wants to climb both social and political ladders. partially to change the country he now loves. partly to end up in those history books mentioned earlier. he wants to lead, but not because he is brave or daring, but because he can see already how it could benefit him.

[take] The bullets out your gun!We move under cover and we move as oneThrough the night, we have one shot to live another dayWe cannot let a stray gunshot give us awayWe will fight up close, seize the moment and stay in itIt’s either that or meet the business end of a bayonetThe code word is ‘Rochambeau,’ dig me?

does this seem gryffindor to you? cause it sure doesn’t to me. he’s got something beyond this war now, he no longer wants to die a martyr because it was never for bravery or to save his country - now he wants to continue his legacy and his ambition through phillip. he’s also growing up, which we can’t discount, and realizing the value of his own life. but I digress. this is a cunning strategy - take out your bullets, sneak in, fight up close, get the fuck out. this isn’t no over the trenches get shot in the head bullshit. (i’m convinced a gryffindor designed trench warfare, but don’t get me started on that.)

Honestly, that’s why public serviceSeems to be calling me I practiced the law, I practic’ly perfected itI’ve seen injustice in the world and I’ve corrected it

my dude you can’t just??? correct injustice? like that? it doesn’t work that way. but to hamilton this is a check on his list. okay, this thing is bad, i should fix that, okay cool i fixed it because I’m good at my shit. NEXT. the slytherin guts you need to look at injustice and say a) i want to fix this, and then b) cool, fixed it… another good indication of how he isn’t a ravenclaw, but we’re not talking about that.

Goes and proposes his own form of government!His own plan for a new form of government!Talks for six hours! The convention is listless!

[ENSEMBLE MAN]Bright young man…

[ANOTHER ENSEMBLE MAN]Yo, who the f is this?

he stood up in front of a huge crowd of people and was like, okay but look - your government is wrong, here’s mine. who does that!? people with major ambitions, that’s who. and people with a mild distaste for the rules.

I know I talk too much, I’m abrasiveYou’re incredible in court. You’re succinct, persuasiveMy client needs a strong defense. You’re the solution

he showed up at aaron burr’s house in the middle of the night, laid on the compliments thick and then was like - help me out? that’s cunning. recognizing when someone can do something better than you and trying to figure out the best way to do it. he just went about it wrong, because burr is a slytherin too and layered on compliments aren’t enough to convince him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, I don’t think. again - whoooole other post there.

They think me Macbeth, and ambition is my folly

do I really even have to say anything here?

[HAMILTON]Stop cryingGoddamnit, get up!

[MARIA]I didn’t know any better

[HAMILTON]I am ruined…

not: I cheated on my wife. not: eliza will be heartbroken. not: this woman is crying. not: i made a mistake and people will know. instead: my goals are over. instead: this is the end of my career and my ambitions. what’s worse for a slytherin? no wonder he pays. I think a gryffindor would have laughed at john reynolds and told him to tell the world, for all he cared.

Do whatever it takes to get my plan on the Congress floor

these cunning folk use any means…

[HAMILTON]Cuz we’ll have the banksWe’re in the same spot

[BURR]You got more than you gave

[HAMILTON]And I wanted what I gotWhen you got skin in the game, you stay in the gameBut you don’t get a win unless you play in the game

I don’t know how many times I can point out how ambitious and cunning he is, but this is another great example. he traded something he knew was less important to get what he wanted - he was able to give up the idea of the capital because he saw the worth of having the banks instead. he knew he had to play, and he figured out a way to make it go in his favour.

God help and forgive meI wanna buildSomething that’s gonnaOutlive me

here he is again, he’s doing it partially for his country, but also because he wants a legacy, he wants to be remembered and appreciated. his central ambition once again.

You must be out of your Goddamn mind if you thinkThe President is gonna bring the nation to the brinkOf meddling in the middle of a military messA game of chess, where France is Queen and Kingless

hamilton promised his friend that he would go and help. but now, he recognizes the futility of the situation. he stepped back and looked at the whole picture and using his powers of self preservation, determined that yeah actually it makes no sense to go and fight no matter what he said, and that they’re gonna stay home and work on their own goals instead. because it could hurt the nation, and thus his ambitions.

[HAMILTON]As far as the people are concernedYou have to serve, you could continue to serve—

[WASHINGTON]No! One last timeThe people will hear from meOne last timeAnd if we get this rightWe’re gonna teach ‘em how to sayGoodbyeYou and I—

[HAMILTON]Mr. President, they will say you’re weak

hamilton, like many people, could literally not fathom that george would step down from the most important position in the country. it is beyond him, because in his ambition focused brain that is ludicrous. if it were him, you better bet he would have stuck around a lot longer than 8 years. and to purposefully let people see that he’s weak? no way.

I’ll write my way out…Overwhelm them with honesty.This is the eye of the hurricane, this is the onlyWay I can protect my legacy…

hamilton is facing a big problem here and what is he worried about? not hurting eliza, not ruining his marriage, shaming his children, breaking his wife’s heart with news of their affair. nope. he’s worried about his legacy. he is terrified that everything he worked so hard for is going to fall apart. so he tries to be cunning - thinks everyone will be overwhelmed that he’s being so honest and forget the fact that he, you know, had a massive affair. which I think is slytherin of him in a few ways. 1) honesty is? kind of expected in society? not so much if you’re constantly trying to be sly and cunning to get what you want. so this doesn’t really work. 2) he is underestimating the importance of having an affair, because in his mind it doesn’t matter, because it isn’t tied to his goals. he doesn’t put his relationship/love life first and he honestly never has - he went for eliza because he wanted a schuyler. i don’t doubt that he loved her too, but his motivations were slytherin. and so in his mind, being honest and proving he never committed treason is more important than infidelity. which, obviously, is… not at all true.

[HAMILTON]Angelica, thank GodSomeone who understands what I’mStruggling here to do

[ANGELICA]I’m not here for you

he still thinks he’s in the right. because he thinks angelica shares his ambitions with him - and in a few ways she does, I would also sort her into slytherin. but here, we see how for angelica family comes first. probably an influence of, you know, having one, but also being a woman in society. and just in general that her ambition was to marry well to support her family, and his was to succeed.

“Be careful with that one, loveHe will do what it takes to survive.”

another one of those lines that is so slytherin i don’t even think i could say more than just to quote it. self preservation to the absolute maximum. does this line not scream draco malfoy to you? because it sure does to me.

You and your words, obsessed with your legacy…Your sentences border on senselessAnd you are paranoid in every paragraphHow they perceive you

burn should be a cautionary tale played to every slytherin about being careful with letting your ambitions get the best of you, quite honestly. because, just, hot damn.

[HAMILTON]Is there anything you wouldn’t do?

[BURR]No. I’m chasing what I wantAnd you know what?

[HAMILTON]What?

[BURR]I learned that from you

is there anything you wouldn’t do? hamilton: look in a goddamn mirror, and fix your green tie, it’s crooked.

Legacy. What is a legacy?It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to seeI wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for meAmerica, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for meYou let me make a differenceA place where even orphan immigrantsCan leave their fingerprints and rise up

one last time, in his death soliloquy, he reminds us why he’s here. his ambition to create a legacy, to be remembered. he got to do that, he had the chance, but america didn’t let him do anything. he fought for all of it tooth and nail. but he sure left some big fingerprints.

okay. look. i went a little overboard here but I started going through the lyrics and I couldn’t stop. none of this is like, a call out on you (if you read this far) but the more I thought about it the more I just felt like I needed to keep going. sorry for being really fucking Extra, but I hope you can at least kind of see my side of things.

hex dot g

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

NSFW #04: Crushed

The night was far too beautiful for something so violent to have happened. The vast starry sky spread out far above the top level of the parking garage, moonlight joining the various halogen sources of illumination as a large, well built blond gently lifts a far smaller redhead out of a wheelchair, tucks her into the side door of a vintage Mustang, and turns to face the other individual with him. “Thank you.” John tossed a pair of gym bags that were previously slung over his shoulder into the trunk of ‘Alundra’ and quietly closed the lid. So quiet as if to make sure to not alert anyone to their successful escape. The wheelchair John had used was discarded nearby. Mike, for their part, had curled up in the passenger seat, wrapped in a blanket, both for warmth and to cover the fact that they were wearing a hospital gown and little else. The surroundings were comforting, the faint smell of leather far easier on their nerves than the oppressive scent of disinfectant and medicine. Feeling perfectly safe now, they teetered between being asleep and not, listening to the muffled voices of their friends outside the car. The reserved big man walked around the driver’s side door to meet his accomplice. Natalie Young. For her part, Natalie was doing her absolute damndest to keep her emotions in check since Mike needed her to be their rock… but the edges were beginning to fray. If she actually smoked, she’d be well on her way through a pack of them at this point. The sound of John’s voice roused her from her thoughts, the blond managing a weary smile. “Of course. I hate hospitals just as much as they do, so for the record? If I’m ever the one in this situation, feel free to do the same thing.” John nodded solemnly. His right hand wavered nervously so he put it into his jeans pocket. “Was this okay to do? I know it’s what they wanted. But I guess, what if this is worse than it seems?” “Then the nurses wouldn’t have let them have a smoke break.” Sighing to herself, Natalie wrapped her arms around herself before giving him an appraising look. She knew full well how sturdily built John was physically - she remembered how easily he hauled her out of harm’s way - but that didn’t necessarily match what was happening in his head. “How about you? How are you holding up?” Inside there were a multitude of platitudes waiting to escape from his lips. But this evening had been exhausting. So, instead, he let fly what he was thinking exactly. “I’m angry.” His dry tone betrayed that statement. There was a twinge of that emotion before his normal soft eyed expression resumed. But the stream of consciousness also continued. “I’m angry that this happened. That I let it happen. They’re my partner. They’re my… partner. I let them down.” “John…” Forgoing the formality, the blond reached out, her hand carefully, lightly resting on his shoulder even if she’d much rather just give him a hug. There were boundaries she needed to respect, though… unspoken ones she had picked up on after spending some time in his presence. “You didn’t let them down. There’s no way you can blame yourself for the actions of someone else. Besides, you got Mike out of a situation they hated as soon as you could.” He didn’t draw back. There was a trust there. There was an understanding that Mike thought the world of Natalie. Even in this short period of time. Time, though, was relative for John. It was what happened during that time that truly defined -- that this was okay. “I also have anger towards the ones who did this. I don’t even know who they are.” He struggled with this. He had never really felt this for anyone. Even before all of this. He averted his eyes from Natalie as he confessed. “Don’t think less of me. I hate them. They showed no remorse in their actions.” A gentle pat of his shoulder. “I don’t think any less of you for that, John. If anything? You need to use that anger. Use it the way I did to make Luke face the music.” Her hand lingered after that contact before it slowly withdrew, a soft sigh escaping the Undisputed Champion before she nodded as if to support the suggestion she was about to offer up. “But for now… take it easy. Put it aside and focus on taking good care of them.” He complied. John tucked away that imagery of bone impacting bone. Their skulls being crushed by his knee. Their bodies flying through the air -- hitting exposed concrete. “I will. I think we’ll hole up somewhere close for a few days. I’ll keep you updated.” “Alright.” Leaning down, the blond murmured her goodbyes to her girlfriend before she peeled her well-worn Duke hoodie off over her head and added it as a layer to their warmth. A parting nod and she was off, leaving the two to make their departure. The room was dim and ambient. Most of the lights were off, the curtain drawn with only faint peeks of late morning sunlight peeking through. This was due to to one of the occupants getting over a roaring headache: in fact, after what she’d endured the previous night, Mike McGuire was deeply fortunate that was the worst she got away with. She was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room on one side of a small table, draped in a Blue Devils hoodie slightly too big for her, ice pack clutched to her head, her faithful (and also somewhat banged up) partner, Bishop Church, sitting opposite. A takeaway box bears evidence of her breakfast- a smattering of crumbs and a few stray smears of strawberry syrup. Beside it is a smaller box containing bread crust neatly cut away from the previously consumed buttered toast. Slowly, Mike set the ice pack on the table, and staring dead into the camera, slow clapped. “Congratulations, boys. You had the balls to answer our challenge. Good for you. Shame you had to jump us from behind like the couple’a needle dicks you are, but hey. We can start from someplace, yeah? So let’s start here. Hi. We’re NSFW. I’m Mike, he’s Bishop, and you, apparently, are The Lummox.” Her partner raised an index finger up to object. “The Limit.” Mike shrugged. “How silly of me. Wallop in the fuckin’ head after being spiked through a table will do that. But anyway. We have no idea who the blue fucking fuck you guys are. We didn’t even know your names until literally a minute before we started filming. Had to key up last night’s Rampage just to see who the purple polka dot fucking Hell jumped us. Hey, kids, EWC.tv is really fuckin’ prompt with putting up material. In case you’re holding out on picking it up, I’d do that. Real handy if you have to work Monday nights.” “Very colorful.” John smiled wryly at her. “And my partner is right. We asked for competition. And we got it. You unmasked and you made your intentions clear. Want to know what is strange? Frank. Alexander. We agree with you. The tag division is rather anemic these days. So Mike, imagine this. These two guys inked fresh new contracts. They look around and they see the landscape. And to be honest, they don’t see much. But suddenly, they see that shining city on the hill. That’s us. We are, champions or not, the example of what a tag team should be here. So you didn’t go after the champions. You didn’t go after anyone else. You went after us because we are tag team wrestling in this company.” “Exactly fuckin’ right. There is no team like us. We are not two random guys put together. Nor are we one guy who picked some random dude for notoriety and muscle. But you guys? I see you. Look at you with your matching outfits and finishing each other’s sentences. I’d say it was cute, but… eeegh. Maybe you boys shoulda left the masks on. You’re like ten pounds of ugly in a five pound fuckin’ sack.” Mike shakes her head, then frowns, rubbing it. That probably wasn’t a great idea. “But this ain’t a beauty contest. Otherwise Natalie Young woulda been champion a billion years ago instead of just snagging it recently. Nah, you’re a couple of fucking bruisers- you’d almost HAVE to be, bein’ from goddamn Detroit- and you obviously know how to make an impact. There’s just one small problem.” She leaned forward, emerald eyes steely, expression harsh. “We’re not fucking afraid of you. We ain’t even intimidated.” John shook his head as if to confirm that. “No. Your brand of cruelty isn’t new. The Limit is Rob Garcia minus the charm. The Limit is Draco Lazarus minus the wit. The beating you gave us wasn’t the first we experienced and as we make more and more waves, it won’t be the last. We won’t let what you two did to us - define us. You may be just the answer to the questions we've been asking. You two may beat us pillar to post in Manitoba. But we will get back up. No matter what happens to us. You are what we asked for and we will damned if we balk at your methods.” A familiar, mildly unhinged smile began to bloom on the New York brawler’s face. “You’re not somethin’ to be scared of. In our book, you’re somethin’ to look forward to. You’re a big steak dinner with all the trimmings. You’re Christmas morning. You’re the first fucking day of summer vacation. Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for a couple’a beasts like you to come along? Not a lazy soup-slurping sasquatch, but an actual well-oiled fucking machine who knows how to do what we do? I’m so excited I could wrestle you both right now. I don’t fucking care how much of a bruised up mess I am or that the ghost of Keith Moon is playing a wicked drum solo on my fucking cortex. NSFW doesn’t run from a challenge, especially ones we ask for. No Scrambling, Flaking, or Waffling here- we asked for competition and you delivered with a cheap shot, and we can’t wait to answer back.” John, under the table, placed a hand on her forearm. “I’ve asked my partner to not feed into the conspiracy theories. The coincidental timing of your appearance. The reactions of those involved. But there is something I do hope The Limit understands. It is the same lesson that Orianna Johnson learned. Alexander. Frank. You two made this personal. And I promise you. I assure you. By the time this is all said and done, you two will get your receipts for this.” Mike looked to her partner briefly, almost as if wordlessly saying something to him before slowly bringing her hands up. Almost abruptly, she cracked her knuckles. Her expression was mildly pained but her smile was vicious as a great white’s. “Under all the excitement and the tasty prospects of a challenge? Yeah. You hurt me. But what’s more, you hurt my partner. And nobody gets away with that shit on my watch. I’m not gonna play nice, but that’s fine. I don’t think you two even know what the fuck ‘play nice’ means. But hey, anybody can be a tough fucker when they attack from behind. So Monday, up in fucking Canada. Let’s see if you Detroit boys can pose the same kind of challenge when we see you coming. Don’t you dare fucking disappoint us.” Turning the camera off, Mike stretched and rolled back onto the bed. They were frankly sick of laying down, but they’d promised. It had been their end of the bargain, after all- John and Natalie had got them out of the hated hospital, but in return they had to stay on strict bed rest for at least a day. Despite grumblings of being bored and restless, they did as their friends asked. It was the least they could do. “...I’m freaking pissed they didn’t have any doubles free. I hate that you gotta crash on the floor. S’not fair. You got banged up too, y’know.” John stood up from the office chair and stretched. “I’ll be okay. Besides what’s the alternative? Sleeping in the same bed?” Mike gave a cheeky sort of grin and shrugged in response. John realized what he had just said. “Nevermind. Hey. I got something for you.” He moved over to the bags strewn in the corner of the room. He retrieved his, opened it, and dug through the contents until… “Here. You lost it last night.” He turned around with something he knew that Mike cherished in his hands. The precious baseball cap that usually never left their head, despite looking like it’d seen far better days. Letting out what could only be described as a delighted squeal, Mike shot forward and snatched their hat back, hugging it to their chest like a child might hug a beloved stuffed animal before tucking it back onto its rightful spot on their head. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I thought the fucking Lummox might’ve stolen it, or that jerkass Bennett threw it in the trash or something. My dad gave me this the last game we went to before I graduated high school. It’s irreplaceable.” The look they gave their partner couldn’t have been more grateful if he’d just given them a kidney. “Thank you so fuckin’ much, buddy. I mean it.” John listened intently. He had his books. But no possession held any value like they had expressed. But he enjoyed the fondness she exhibited for her family. Perhaps lived vicariously through it. Family. He would have liked the concept. And he heard a confession. Words that he had heard before certainly. This time they didn’t confuse him. Or twist his innards into knots. But he wasn’t sure if he understood. He felt the same way, too, right? “Hey. You ok?” They frowned. He was sort of staring past her for a minute or two. “Huh? Yeah.” They are partners. Partners. For the first time in his life, he played part to what he considered deception. But not for his own sake. John sat down on the bed next to them. He clasped a hand over theirs. Pushing down that aversion to it. “I’m good.” “Okay. Sometimes it kinda feels like… you’re a million miles away even when you’re right next to me. It’s really… this’ gonna sound fucking weird. It’s lonely. But it’s okay, you’re here now.” It was a strange thing to say even by their own standards, and it was dangerously close to crossing a line that, though recently revealed, they didn’t want to cross. Not for lack of wanting to, but for other feelings being involved, other people being involved, that they didn’t want to hurt either. They made a face before shrugging, sighing, and leaning back into the pillows. “...wanna watch a movie? I think this place’s got free HBO.”

[salosion]

Call me crazy all you want, Crazy is genius you don’t insult infact you lift me up now be a breeze and wind this up, intelligence is found in cups surrounded by words at tables of nerds, crazies & Gods

when rainbow colored dust, winds bye, inhale babe, inhale

for I know I won’t be able to see me die and live to tell the tale.

media fills the lives we own, disguised as lovely treats but i don’t think iv’e ever lived to taste a poison oh so sweet.

I like this picture because of the 🚪

The 🚪 is open for you for me for us and for more. More then the thought could ever explore because God exposed himself when we melted with the galore that Is Love in conquer controlling all the mediums that wear gloves to hide the real shit above like the media be the possibility where Love can spread the shores to the planets we ignore cause they're like Godly light years away, but the media is a gift people abuse like me I guess like this with this my posts of loving bits of my kisses of benevolent bliss filled with the insights of an intuitive mystic artistic good wild lickings of my spank, so I use it I abuse it, the media, cause it's my heart, it's my canvas and where I start where I post the reasons I creatively are, I use the media to try to spread far the sounds that make me so damn happy I wouldn't otherwise be poetically-rambling this fantastically,(arguably of course, taste is but self fruit picking, and Im not insult I know Im wild and swolle with it, dope to the point I know that crafts fill my souls) I use the media for my gifts so I can elevate my work higher to kiss the sky higher by the stars and higher to where God is kind enough to let us live express and be what a gift holy shit look at this you can do anything and once you realize this law of physics you can bend the rules and just exist it the wild twirl pool of infinite imaginative euphoric Holy God existence I use the media to try to fun the artistic fun and reason we’ve come by spreading awareness to fire and potential beautiful outcomes that come when you explore, Live in fun work your ass set some fun and mind fuck up yourself to spread the jelly that makes your soul wobble, till the cake is done baked to spread and exhale on plates full of chaotic creative greatness gargled up potioned special grub or better yet soul food is the term im thinking of, and of and thinking of the sounds I make and expressions I create and paint and craft and poeticize to last your mind the maze it holds inside, listen my sounds, and eclectic poetic with meaning found but mostly the sounds, tunes that fly that fly so high the galaxy doesn't see, cause its so far beyond inside the material we cant perceive cause it don't exist but it does in deed, all is non and non is need all you won is all you bleed, don't be greed be Love and you will see that the tree you become will grow many trunks with fruits that where never before conceived they'll make you trip i swear don't be scared just believe like you do every morning hen you wake up and breathe, were almost there just a few couple of weeks seconds and years well a trillion is all you need cause time doesn't exist so in the end its irrelevant well all be there to celebrate and be ourselves and all relate and make the sounds that make us great just praising found the Love that gave us chance to be the miracle gift God gave if thats not Love then nothing is, but love is my post my crazy rants repeated toasts to greatness found in surrounded floats that stir my eyes an thoughts and boats to be a douche you know I'm not and post my shit i mean a lot because my gift is more then thought its praise of God and expression and jizz of creative thought birthed into dopeness that would have never before existed, eat me, eat my shit, eat my music, and eat my gifts, maybe I'm narcissistic but I'm really not it, I'm just kinda lifted and high on this shit that makes my heart stir words to wonderment eat this cake and eat me too eat my sound keep an eye out with a view for teh new shit too but devour it all its devoured and distilled in baked artistic cake poetically manic seeming improv, which is really just creative run offs with the thing of we call this Life, chocolate eclairs are hidden though, everywhere in my shit and this you know just get through it and read it slow the earnings there it'll open your doors and maybe flare your tickles some more listen to my music my meanings fly past the seasons you passed already by reading this mass that will make you more experienced, enlightened and chaotically funtuntic fantastically confused with jelly beans running loose in your belly butterfly stomach tube where the sudden spark sinks up in abused feelings of Love for God and praising you for being there like two pairs in a 3 theres 1. 1 God many sons, and I’m this son your crazy bruh, golden heart nigga that fly’s. Salo Sion the cat in the cartoon thats not a cartoon but a person in a life on a picture above you makes him a cartoon cause its me and i just tied the three dimensional bloom? No, don’t make sense that last bit flow but kinda did have a bit of a glow I'm mean really what i said was that our perception is only shown though perceptions only shown, I'm a cartoon, like you in a world filled with goons so beautiful it’s true, but their freedoms fucked they're minds, they're evil greed gross abuse sprinkled away the shine that God is when we just loose, but thats just it and teh only way it can be true, to happen like this must learn from the view, our mission is going or choice is you, will you be the cat that chooses to weigh in the good, cause it could be fast we could soar up on the moon, even making lands out of crayons and balloons but you don't want to your stuck in your reality type of gloom cause its safe and the perks are nice because like it is a bloom that blossoms like a fight that fought Love up to make you, cause He knew you'd fuck up, He didn't want you to suffer, but the only way YOU can exist and be eternity is like this so see I'm crazy call me that its my gift, crazy in the dopest ways smoke my joints take my lift, sorry to be a bit too rich in my flourishing postage just trying to spread my Love and have folk listen to my gifts and music I devote to the life that wouldn't exist if music weren't it, I post my shit for fun and in search of fire to find the light that won our chance to exist and reach it’s higher plains of God, souls we are in body's , using out platforms and finding shit that people hide from , finding shit that people posted, posted, posted like this, I post on the media cause its fun to exist express create and one day discover life's magnificent magnificence too heavy for now but this is how we start but heaving up the sparks and talking like free like giving a shit is odd who care what people think just manifest up to the stars and your higher dimensional self through God and only Love and spreadings of nothing more, more can e like this, like this, the posts I piss and prob annoy a bit but I don’t mean it just don;t give a shit and know its dope so theres your gift ignore or it or don’t the lifts i get are delicious. this, the beauty that discovers beauty is the beauty that really hits cause what you never really know, you never really know, but what you never really know will always strike a hit in the part of your heart that it starts the heavens songs when it’s time for Prince to go on I post on media cause I don't give a shit call me crazy ill take it, its not a diss its the biggest fucking compliment to a genius you could give I post on media to spread all the lifts that take me higher posted up in thoughts that wonder if the universe is really thought or is thought just all there is I post nigga, I post cause ima a motherfucking pimp, no one else is cool enough to take there pants off so dandily the bizarre starts to star because the shine is coming in I post shit like this cause Im a star like you and him, and who knows everything every done said thought or did goes out there in the galaxy for everest, like this, S👀 so I can get the views that my heart always sees when I hear the tunes of the crazy I conceive in a world full of infinite possibility, we're meant to tie together beautifully like you never woulda believed till you believe that's how it's meant to be, your given the chance to chose to believe then you use it and it ducking works, we are here arrest we? Here with the media That sucks and the media that's for us to use and try to hold luck up to the views that'll feel the soul of true, here with my media I don't try to abuse it's my canvas and it's fun and I like how it views if you don't like it or you a bum unfollow my shits were never given a fuck to start just give a fuck to fuck Love so hard Love cummed and euphorias Birthday had her came so I’ma just be my cray pot smoking great beautiful souls and self express forever or else I just I wouldn't be myself. I use the media hella yea trying to have my music shared passion is God and passion is rare I don't give a fuck I use the platforms as my tools for expressive artistic amusement stirred by the cocktails that life's actuality has in store, for me for you for us for we, so me I’ma just be me forever fuck off unfollow, your an individual that gets to be free just like me and the proof is in the sea that currents the waves that splash up the sheets of words that verbal my bed or whirled creative eclectic gold, if you’re smart you’ll find the hold in my spaces that hold you in places that make you feel the same the same i felt when tracing around Gods gifts of inspiration and wisdom creatively birthed free out of fucks not given cause cool is free birthed out of minds and souls and hearts in trilogy working together to conceive worlds never believed birthing forever more free energy of the beauty that erases the instantly but forever exists distantly till it overflows the capacity that God is smoking up, never let the Love go to extinction it almost did you fucking racists evil asshole greedy pigs of mankind, be great be loving be beautiful be the angel your soul cakes with the freedom you were gifted over the angels weight, so that mean that YOU are greater then an angel, mankinds potential is greater then angels which means we cannot ever reach beyond God but we can reach God and marry him and live however we want by Love and Love alone and an imagination heaven conceived by the inkling that never had a begining God Life is so damn trippy it never has an ending I wish I could understand God YOU are so God damn crazy, genius beautiful I cant even take it it trips me out too much to go relate it cause i am it but theres more to this were meant to fit and if there is which there is doesn't that mean we shoulda been there by now? Were living infinite but infinite is infinite I guess we haven't won we gotta earn our stripes of Love don't be douche be a God go ahead and give people all there go, benefit of the doubt and then see you'll watch them grow, ALL, help ALL help ME:] Love the Love I Love Love the Love I Spread spread the Love that is God and together we mani-fucking-fest this is how we reach heaven and live forever without an end in such a pleasant way the worlds burdens wont ever be relevant, listen to my tunes brothers, people folks you know you always known I'm the kindest kinda wild sweetest soul your chases out the souls of the minds that are all just here to find, have fun party up, fuck for fun, write a hit, make a song, create something from nothing won the pride your heart construes, so that's why I just push it my mind these finds and this media to my bind so I can bind an infinite bind in a bind forever will shine cause the wisdom is hidden by the manic seaminess of poetic dreamless that takes the curiosity you beam with to bounds further unknown, curiosity is the disposition of creativity, a philosopher ya'll already so I just got to find my soul that shines and yearns to find and figure out ALL the infinite beautiful unimaginable possibilities of #life know like a coloring book with infinite pages to color the words and sounds and songs to skies and then oh my the possibilities tied and we found ourselves inside the insides we were bout out n in all about I only try to spread my Love devotion and the doubts my heart it cries when I see that no ones bout the music that unites my heart my soul and king crown creative bouts cause I'm bout it all the time,I’m bout it see inside I'm bout the feeling fine and what make me feel divine are insights that I find when I'm open and no fuckage ever given Im a G like motherfucker don't gotta jitter when my presence always glitters with devoted and eclectically beautifully creatively chaotically artistically divine Love.

Im crazy I know,

I mean I’m not I'm just creatively fucking dope and loose with my swerve and like to make words and poeticize Life's curves and figure it all out cause i mean were here like that fucking bird who wasn't gifted with a thinking intelligent mouth but his songs they do arouse the melodies of God’s astounding isn't even enough a bound word to describe the unbound so lets live it a found God is great and there is no word to describe his greatness because His greatness is so damn great a word cant exist.

Listen to my music homies, junkies, lovely’s, think you’re cooler then me ones funny, listen to my music and look passed my creative expressive ways I'm just a G that smokes that green more then Snoop Dogg I can say and ill challenge the brother any-day I know ill win cause I'm just so fucking great like this joint just finished and now I'm done with my great beautiful chaotic annoying crazy rant, it ain’t crazy unless its crazy and crazy is like writing some demented list to target people, or talking nonsense, I speak wisdom amongst my creative chaos, my minds a Lilly and I'm a boss, listen to my music I swear its your loss. Don’t be a pussy, Less you are a pussy, I Like those pussys, And those pussys would throbbingly palpitate their mound to my sound, Dope be a pussy be intelligently found, Open the door and look around, you'll find much more when your mind is free and open and patient and tolerant and bound.

Don’t be a pussy, Be a pussy.

Pussys are beautiful when the butterflies are engaging in gasiming sounds of heaving rounds of moaning towns inside cities that don’t exist, but thats everyone and we seem to exist so if you ended up reading this wined up creation of creativeness all its point was and started out and is to be to tell you my Loving brothers, sisters, homies, fine girls that I know but ya’ll to bland show me, call me say wassup or blow me away, but its all good I'm okay cause Im in Love in the strongest holiest Godliest way I swear my music with times will take you away to that place you want to be in that second you are free and cant believe this is happening you’re getting hardcore penetrated fucked orgasming squirting cum cause life is heavy and heavy is deep and I dug a whole to profound to leap, so for someone, for one day, for the cosmos, for Sunday, heres a little poetic entertainment that make make your day or stir your mind in ways you would have never come through sway but you did, you swayed yourself over here and for that I gift you a gift of thank you and I Love you more then I did before,

See I'm just a fucking loon, Loves to get high create art, poetry and explore music mostly cause thats what Life is for music alone music alone.

Go listen to you crazy friends music,

If I have any friends,

I know I do somewhere in you, all of you Love me as much as I do you sorry to be a loon but I cant be anyone else but myself this afternoon, had some fun with some words and a flow that took me swooping to the point that all i really want is for you to be grooving to the reason I and my friends all exist music, the music, life, no im not really crazy I'm just chaotically gifted, don't give a shit and if i may so so fucking genius.

Thank you God for EVERYTHING.

Love you fam for accepting me and existing,

All you fuckers and haters and racists and evil gators, you’ll go to hell so I still Love yo anyway cause Love is all that is, God is Love so Love you must be swolle swell spilling till the point you fell, but fuck you evil fuckers causing havoc on the world, y'all will go to hell and those who are misinformed and don't understand an ignorant, maybe open your door view others perspectives and feel their intentions hearts and what they are for so yo understand and aren't so dumb life is beautiful and meant to be won wake the fuck wake pray to God you are one, listen to this fuckers music swear to God it'll make my done.

Done = Purpose of Live