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danteinthedevildom · 3 years

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@levis-little-nuggie said:

The current Thing I'm trying to find throughout the lessons is the brothers each talking to MC about Lilith, and if any of them, asides from Belphie, tell MC that they know MC isn't Lilith, that they don't love MC bc they're a descendent of Lilith. Belphie was very clear about that, and it was amazing and so sweet, but I'm on Lesson 33 and I don't recall any of the other brothers make that same statement.

I know you put this on another reblog but I ended up writin a fair bit so I’m givin it its own post bc this is. Interestin (TM)

Now while I am gonna say “don’t quote me on this”, from my own recollection, the other bros don’t mention not seeing MC as Lilith? Or if they do it’s hella not as memorable as Belphie’s.

A good story reason for this if the other bros don’t have a similar convo with MC is that Lilith was Belphie’s bugbear. It was bc of her that he hated humans; it was bc of her that he accepted MC initially. All of Belphie’s feelings towards MC stem from their heritage. Without her, he likely never would have cared for MC at all.

Bc the fact of the matter is, Belphie didn’t have any actual attachment to MC prior to finding out they’re a descendent of Lilith. There wasn’t any time to. He was too wrapped up in his own hurt and hate, in his own revenge plot, to see MC as anything other than a human he could use to his advantage.

Unlike the other brothers, he only cared about MC bc of Lilith. Everyone else had time to know and care for MC as a person outside of the revelation of their lineage. Finding out their connection to Lilith was likely an added bonus, but most of MC’s relationships with the bros are formed by that point. Their feelings for MC were already strong and decided. But for Belphie, MC was still just a random human he’d been plotting to use and kill to make a statement against the Exchange Programme.

What matters most, then, is seeing Belphie say it. It’s the affirmation that we’re not just Lilith - or some faint connection to her - in his eyes. It’s getting the closure that while Lilith may have been the reason he came to like them at first, he’s come to care for them as their own person.

In other words, it’s the active acknowledgement that a fundamental change has occurred in their relationship with him. He now sees what the brothers have been seeing since MC came to the Devildom.

It’s also why closure with Lilith is given primarily to Belphie over the other bros: the scene where he finally says goodbye to her memory, and the pain and hatred that had stemmed from his over-zealous attachment to it.

Because while the other bros miss and love her, only Belphie was so horrifically affected by her death as to want to annihilate what he saw as the culprit (humanity). Her memory (and his trauma surrounding it) was still an incredible part of his daily life.

It was important for us to see these two scenes so that Belphie’s character arc - and the story arc for Act 1 of Obey Me - could come to a close.

It’s less important for us to see the other bros reassert that they don’t view MC as Lilith 2.0, therefore. Story-wise, it was Belphie’s relationship with Lilith that defined/dominated Act 1, so focus was always going to be aimed towards him; and while they each have their own struggles with her death, they all viewed MC as significant to them prior to the Lilith Heritage Debacle in a way that differentiated them from Belphie and MC’s precarious and questionable relationship. Pretty much, we were meant to feel more sure of their relationship with MC because of the time we spent with them over the course of Act 1.

Ofc I could be wrong, bc my memory ain’t always great, and if the other bros do say this then the above is a good way to explain why Belphie’s conversation is so much more memorable. But I’d almost argue that having that convo with anyone but Belphie would be bad storytelling.

Bc, in a way, what would be the point of having Levi, for instance, say that he doesn’t see MC as Lilith? He spent the better part of a year seeing MC as his Henry. Of course he doesn’t see MC as Lilith; that relationship existed well before he learnt MC’s heritage, and was cemented enough that he was upset at seeing MC dying just because MC was dying. Bc he cared for MC and that was a kind of fucked up thing to see happen to someone you care about.

If he suddenly turned around and said that he doesn’t see MC as Lilith, it’d feel... a little jarring.

Because he’d basically be saying, “I know we had built up an entire relationship based on who you are as a person, but the fact that you’re related to my dead sister absolutely, plausibly might have been more important to me than the friendship we have and the person you are that I’ve come to care for”.

Especially considering the revelation doesn’t change their relationship in such a staggeringly drastic way like it does between MC and Belphie. In a paradoxical way, it’d actually be kind of hurtful, not reassuring, bc we don’t need that closure from them the same way we do from Belphie.

I absolutely got ramblin on that, fuck. But yeah. That’s what I can remember and also my thoughts on it from a purely story-based standpoint. I think rather than “I don’t see you as Lilith” convos from the other bros, what’d be better is more “I’m still messed up abt Lilith’s death bc I haven’t been able to speak abt it for millenia; now that we’ve got the ban lifted and I feel safe with you, I want to tell you abt how I feel” convos. Just... things to develop them and give them the closure they maybe didn’t get around the end of Act 1, without accidentally jeopardisin MC’s relationship with them.

#obey me #obey me mc #Wow that's a lot of words plbtbtbtb

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hamanuelton · 4 years

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my favorite parts of hamilton:

- “I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.”

- every time Leslie Odom Jr. as aaron burr begins another part with “how did a bastard, orphan-“ or like in that same way ‘cause he doesn’t always start it that way but you know what I mean

- the way Leslie Odom Jr. as My Boi Burr™️ says “well, the world got around, they said, ‘this kid is insane, man!’”

- also when Leslie Odom Jr. as A. Burr says

“WHAT’S YOUR NAME, MAN?!”

- “our man saw his future drip-dripping down the drain, a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain”

- “Alexander Hamilton. My name is Alexander Hamilton. And there’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait, just you wait...”

- background “just you wait, just you wait”’s as hammy’s putting on a new jacket and ensemble is praising nyc

- “and me? i’m the damn fool that shot him.”

- “Burr, sir” + the continuation of this all throughout

- “If you talk you’re gonna get shot” / FORESHADOWING WOOOEEEEWOOOOO

- “i’m John Laurens in the place to be”

- Lafayette’s fuckinf accent

- “BRRRAH! BRRAAAH! HERCULES MULLIGAN UP IN IT LOVIN IT”

- “if you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for”

- “‘Onarchy?”

- hey, yo, i’m just like my country, i’m young, scrappy, and hungry—

- the way Odom Leslie Jr. as The Hamburrglar™️ says ‘shot’ and they all take a shot

- this ⤵️

- Hammy getting //flustered// about friendship

- WHEN ARE THESE COLONIES GONNA RISE UP

- Angelica’s face when Burr is tryna tell her bout herself and she shows him up and ships him out

- Act 1: 6. Farmer Refuted

- honorable mention: “my dog speaks more eloquently than thee!" "but strangely, your mange is the same." "is he in jersey?”

- King George pouting

- Jonathan Groff’s overarticulation of each syllable as King George is a work of art

- “♪ Da-da-da-dat-da-dat-da-da-da-dai-ah-da! ♪ Da-da-da-da-dai-ah-da! ♪

- “Everybody! —“

- “We keep meeting.”

- “i imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. when’s it gonna get me? in my sleep? seven feet ahead of me?”

- “See, I never thought I’d live past twenty.”

- “this is not a moment, it’s the movement”

- “I’m laughin’ in the face of casualties and sorrow, for the first time, I’m thinkin’ past tomorrow!”

- “dying is easy, young man, living is harder!”

- “i’m being honest. i’m working with a third of what our Congress promised.”

- “you need all the help you can get. i have some friends. Laurens, Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette, okay, what else?” — “we’ll need some spies on the inside, some king’s men who might let some things slide.”

- “watch this obnoxious, arrogant, loudmouth bother be seated at the right hand of the father.”

- “Martha Washington named her feral tomcat after him” — “That’s true.”

- “Yo, if your marry a sister, you’re rich, son!” — “Is it a question of ‘if’, Burr, or which one?” and then the little ‘hey’ ‘hey’ thing they do gets me every time

- literally the use of yo throughout the production fucking gets me every single fucking time

- “i’m writin’ a letter nightly. now my life gets better, every letter that you write me. — THE PURE UNBRIDLED SENSE OF FORESHADOWING IN “laughin’ at my sister, cuz she wants to form a harem” — ft. “i’m just sayin’, if you really loved me, you would share him!”

- the irony in “Eliza, i don’t have a dollar to my name”, you’ll be on the $10 bill, my man

- top-notch brain

- Angelica TRIED TO TAKE A BITE OF ME

- the way Anthony Ramos as John Laurens says “alright, alright. that’s what i’m talkin’ about!” and also the face that he makes

- hunger-pang frame

- “You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied.” — “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself.” — “You’re like me. I’m never satisfied.” — “Is that right?” — “I have never been satisfied.” — “My name is Angelica Schuyler.” — “Alexander Hamilton.” — “Where’s your fam’ly from?” — “Unimportant. There’s a million things I haven’t done but just you wait, just you wait...”

- tbh the way ‘Schuyler’ is spelled is oddly satisfying to me

- honestly just the way LMM says Alexander Hamilton+/ my name is Alexander Hamilton, and there’s a million things i haven’t done, ‘just you wait, just you wait...’ throughout the production

- “i’m the oldest and the wittiest and the gossip in new york city is insidious”

- “You are the worst, Burr.”

- Act 1: 12. The Story of Tonight (Reprise)

- “love doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes”

- “love doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway. we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes. and if there’s a reason i’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died—“

- “Chick-a-plao!”

- the way they say ‘raise a glass’ is both elegant and (appropriately) reverent

- “i go back to new york and my apprenticeship” — i shouted MY BOI HERCULES MULLIGAN UP IN IT LOVIN IT DID NOT JUST SAY THAT, IF HE ACTUALLY LEFT AND ISN’T JUST UNDERCOVER OR SOME SHIT IMMA WRITE LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA A STRONGLY WORDED LETTER

- the minute General Charles Les came into the picture i hated him so hard, even though his literal first word was ‘Whee!!!!’, though i can appreciate the sentiment and what LMM was tryna do there

- “Washington cannot be left to his devices indescisive, from crisis to crisis” — sweet baby jesus that alliteration, and jon rua totally pulled it off (i hate General Charles Lee not the person who played him, i can also appreciate the fact that as an actor it takes a lot of talent to be able to make you hate a character so easily, also shoutout to Jonathan Groff as King Georgey-Boy™️, Sydney James Harcourt as james reynolds, and the general way LMM somehow made me fed up/turn on Alexander with the whole scene with him and Maria Reynolds — and not only that but somehow redeemed himself to me which is easier said than done for characters and people alike.. i’ve been hurt too much to play like that.

- Act 1: 15. Ten Duel Commandments

- honorable mention: “if you don’t reach peace, that’s alright. time to get some pistols and a doctor on site. you pay him in advance, you treat him with civility. you have him turn around so he can have deniability.”

- Act 1: 17. That Would Be Enough

- honorable mention: the melody that LMM went with for that turn of phraseis a truly beautiful thing

- “Immigrants:” — “We get the job done.”

- THE FACT THAT MY MAIN MAN HERCULE MULLIGAN WAS ON THE INSIDE NOT ONLY DID I CALL IT BUT DAMN HE REALLY GOT THAT GOOD HOT TRIBUTE HE DESERVED

- “To my brother’s a revolutionary covenant! I’m runnin’ with the sons of liberty and I am lovin’ it! See, that’s what happens when you up against the ruffians. We’re in the shit now, somebody gotta shovel it! Hercules Mulligan, I need no introduction, when you knock me down I get the fuck back up again!”

- Act 1: 21. What Comes Next

- honorable mention: “i’m so blue” — the little squat that Groffsauce does as the light turns blue really got to me

- Act 1: 22. Dear Theodosia

- Leslie Odom Jr.’s voice is so ding dang delightfully airy

- honorable mention: “You have my eyes. You have your mother’s name. When you came into the world, you cried and it broke my heart.”

- Act 1: 23. Non-Stop

- as someone with siblings i can appreciate that they’re bickering like that’s just what they are

- “I was chosen for the constitutional convention! *squeal*”

- “Burr, we studied and we fought and we killed for the notion of a nation we now get to build. For once in your life, take a stand with pride. I don’t understand how you stand to the side.”

- Act 2: 1. What’d I Miss?

- honorable mention: “But the sun comes up and the world still spins.”

- Act 2: 2. Cabinet Battle #1

- honorable mention: “DOIN’ WHATEVER THE HELL IT IS YOU DO IN MONTICELLO!”

- tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

- “Daddy, daddy, look.... My name is Philip. I am a poet. I wrote this poem just to show it. And I just turned nine. You can write rhymes but you can’t write mine.” - “What!” - “I practice French and play piano with my mother.” — “Uh-huh!” — “I have a sister but I want a little brother.” — “Okay!” — “My daddy’s trying to start America’s bank. Un deux trois quatre cinq!” — “Bravo!” — “Hey, our kid is pretty great.”

- as much as i hate Act 2: 4. Say No To This (because for some reason i though Alexander Hamilton was better than that) Jasmine Cephas Jones sings in it is like a hot knife through butter — namely; “My husband’s doin’ me wrong beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me...”... I guess maybe I understand it ‘cause damn Jasmine Cephas Jones is so ding dang pretty and ding dang talented and wow what a remarkable person

- the way that Lin says “And her body’s saying, ‘hell, yes’ is um.. 😓

- “You see, that was my wife you decided to” — “Fuuuu—“

- Act 2: 5. The Room Where It Happens

- honorable mention: “Bros.”

- “Talk less. Smile more.” LMM being a dramatic bastard

- Act 2: 6. Schuyler Defeated

- Act 2: 7. Cabinet Battle #2

- “revolution is messy but now is the time to stand."

- honorable mention: “Ooh!!”

- “We signed a treaty with a King whose head is now in a basket. Would you like to take it out and ask it? ‘Should we honor our treaty, King Louis’ head?’ ‘Uh... do whatever you want, I’m super dead.’”

- Thomas Jefferson all like “but sir do we not fight for freedom” MY BAD SIR YOU ARE A SLAVE-OWNER HOW ABOUT YOU NOT

- mentioning Lafayette because apparently LMM has no problem with breaking the fourth wall

- “Daddy’s calling.”

- “I’m in the cabinet. I am complicit in watching him grabbin’ at power and kiss it. If Washington isn’t gon’ listen to disciplined dissidents, this is the difference. This kid is out!”

- “Southern motherfuckin’ Democratic-Republicans!”

- “The emperor has no clothes.”

- “Sir, I don’t know what you heard but whatever it is Jefferson started it.” — “Thomas Jefferson resigned this morning.” — “You’re kidding.” — “I need a favor.” — “Whatever you say, sir, Jefferson will pay for his behavior.” — “I’ll use the press. I’ll write under a pseudonym, you’ll see what I can do to him—“ — “Yes! He resigned you can finally speak your mind!” — “Ha. Good luck defeating you, sir.” - “I’m sorry, what?”

- Act 2: 10. I Know Him

- “—Vice President.” — “— No more Mr. Nice President.”

- “Sit down, John, you fat motherf—“

- Act 2: 12. We Know

- honorable mention: “You see that was my wife you decided to—“ — “WHAT—“

- Act 2: 13. Hurricane

- Act 2: 14. The Reynolds Pamphlet

- honorable mention: *DEEP VOICE* “DAMN”

- Act 2: 15. Burn

- i’ll be the first to say i wasn’t a huge fan of Eliza at first aside from Phillipa Soo’s killer voice

- this gave me a lot of respect for her

- honorable mention: “You have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun.”

- Act 2: 16. Blow Us All Away

- i would like to point out that tweet where someone @‘s LMM about not mentioning Philip’s hot and he responds “I’M FAIRLY F**CKING SURE I DID”, y’know ⤵️

- “The ladies say my brain’s not where the resemblance stops.”

- “God, you’re a fox.”

- Act 2: 17. Stay Alive (Reprise)

- The ‘I know, I know. Shh.’ and the full circle back to his mom teaching him french on the piano really got to me for the beautiful artistry in it but also damn them feels

- Act 2: 18. It’s Quiet Uptown

- “I spend hours in the garden. I walk alone to the store and it’s quiet uptown. I never liked the quiet before. I take the children to church on Sunday, a sign of the cross at the door, and I pray. That never used to happen before.”

- “Philip, you would like it uptown. It’s quiet uptown.”

- “You knock me out, I fall apart.”

- “Eliza, do you like it uptown? It’s quiet uptown.”

- “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is suffering too terrible to name. You hold your child as tight as you can and push away the unimaginable. The moments when you’re in so deep it feels easier to just swim down.”

- “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is a grace too powerful to name. We push away what we can never understand. We push away the unimaginable.”

- “Can you imagine?”

- Act 2: 19. The Election of 1800

- honorable mention: “And they say I’m a Francophile: at least they know I know where France is!”

- “You used to work on the same staff” — “Whaaaat.”

- “Honestly, it’s kind of draining.” — “Burr...” — “Sir!” — “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” — “No. I’m chasing what I want. And you know what?” — “What?” — “I learned that from you.” / this moment made the blow that he voted for Jefferson like a damn hole in my chest and i actually really felt for Burr. i get Hammy’s reluctance, i think if anything he was hoping voting for Jefferson would give Burr the chance to have experience as VP and then the next election he might vote for him then depending

- Act 2: 20. Your Obedient Servant

- A. Burr

- A. Ham

- “I just need to write something down.” / really resonated as one of the last things they showed him doing before going off to the duel, his life really was writing and that was the perfect way to say that in a very subtle sort of way. i really appreciate it artistically, whether it was intentionally so or not.

- Act 2: 22. The World Was Wide Enough

- okay but first of all i would like to comment on the fact that Ariana DeBose PLAYS THE GODDAMN BULLET, I JUST

- THE FACT THAT THE BULLET HAS A PART

- “This man will not make an orphan of my daughter.” / this made me really sympathize with Burr, as well as when he tries to go towards Hamilton (at least in the play but I sincerely hope that was historically accurate) / but also that fact that Theodosia Burr was lost at sea at 29 makes me sad because Hamilton’s life was taken to give her one and then she just up and disappears in a freak accident

- Act 2: 23. Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

- the orphanage got to me

- i loved that he (LMM) didn’t end it with himself or anything

- he let Phillipa Soo tear my heart out

- it killed me but i died quite happily

- and really what more could you ask for.

#okay so #i know thw subheaders are probably grossly uneven #but like #i had to space manually #and this already took a lot of time to do #so i couldn’t give two fucks #lin manuel miranda #hamilton #hamilton film #daveed diggs #jonathan groff #anthony ramos #christopher jackson #jasmine cephas jones #leslie odom jr #leslie odom junior #ariana debose #jon rua #hamilfilm #shit i lost steam to tag cast members #you know and if you don’t look it up so you do #that’s how you learn shit like that the bullet had its own fucking role #the orphanage part also hurt because i was disowned by my father and then disowned by my mother (again) and then my father just decided he #wanted back in on my life #my shit family life has cast me out of my family #i feel like an orphan except i can’t be adopted #even though i want more than anything to have parents or parental figures #sadly my dad just isn’t #he kind of ruined that for me when he screamed me into a panic attack that almost killed me and then left the front door open to tell me to #get out

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xolotoofficial · 3 years

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Hell9, th9ght that since i am 9n "s9cial media bl9g" i might as well participate in s9cial activity, especially since y9u pr9vided an 9pp9rtunity. There were a l9t of insensetive questi9ns that i ch9se t9 av9id since we d9nt kn9w each 9ther that cl9sely 6ut this 9ne is actually interesting - "33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?". It w9uld 6e more suiting t9 rephrase it as "D9 y9u pers9nally ch99se t9 drink s9da and, if it is 9kay, what d9es it mean/signify f9r y9u, if anything

gota say ur writin style is v enjoyabl 2 read lol

as 4 the q hell yea i drink pop faygo all day !!

n it means ohana bro 😔 (lol geddit like da juice)

an also if i got a hangovr or drymouth or a suga cravin shxts neva not delish ! but i gotta chug water 2 esp if im doin a show or sumn othrwize my voice can soun like trash w my pipes all sticky n shit

#thnx 4 askin babe !

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jewpacabruhs · 5 years

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also do the "wanna go out w me sometime" one for kyman thanks sis

nah thank you bb :-) ok im doin this one first to get the writin juices flowin heh

yay drag cartman…. lil bit inspired by lais fic ;)

When Kyle agreed to help Cartman break up Stan and Craig, South Park’s newest and strangest young couple, he hadn’t thought it would turn into a fiasco. Maybe he should’ve had the foresight to anticipate Cartman’s antics, but as it was, when Cartman had bitched about Craig and Tweek being soulmates and Craig being an entire idiot for dumping him, and Kyle had agreed that Stan deserved better than being a rebound for some aloof alternative space nerd like Craig, and Cartman had proposed they break them up, Kyle had immediately accepted without much thought. Cartman was good at schemes like that; surely he could find a way to split them easily enough.

Kyle was an idiot for that, because Cartman could never do things “easily enough” - he just had to turn a simple little mission into a completely over-the-top and often disastrous performance, with unnecessarily extravagant costumes and everything.

So that’s how he ended up in a booth in the nicest restaurant in town, wearing his finest suit, which he hasn’t touched since his cousin Eli’s bar mitzvah last May. Thankfully it still fits, though it’s a little restrictive. Across from him is one Eric Cartman who is, of course, inexplicably in drag; a floor length deep blue evening dress, sparkly silver makeup, and a sleek blonde wig. He looks amazing, and Kyle resents him for it.

“We’ll be noticed less if we look like your average straight couple,” Cartman had explained, when Kyle had picked him up from his house and given him a look of barely contained annoyance and contempt. Then he’d said, “Oh, this almost feels like prom!” and tried to get Kyle to escort him to the car, and eventually got his way by saying, “If this is how you treat women, I can see why none of them wanna date you.” Kyle had grudgingly linked arms with him after that, and walked him down to the car - even opened the door for him, though Cartman didn’t even really need help; he could walk perfectly fine in his heels, he just liked to be irritating.

So now they’re in the booth, and Kyle’s leg won’t stop bouncing. Craig and Stan are two tables away, both wearing suits and looking like they’re playing dress up. Stan’s blabbing enthusiastically about something, and Craig looks a little bored, but he’s nodding along, prodding at a salad. Cartman had anonymously left a free reservation - how he’d acquired it, Kyle was scared to ask - in Stan’s mail box: “Congratulations! This is a ticket to a free dinner for two on Saturday September 7th, at 8 PM at our fine eatery!” as well as some finer print details, including the lie that it’d been won from a randomized lottery. It’d been addressed to Stan himself, because Cartman figured Randy might try to steal it for him and Sharon. Stan had gushed about it at school, about how he wanted to treat his mom to dinner as a late birthday present, and while Kyle thought that was immensely sweet of him and felt pretty bad about it, he’d had to dissuade him from taking her. “It’s a romantic type of place,” he’d said, feeling like a real shitty friend. “People are gonna think-” and then Kenny had helpfully pitched in, “-that your mom’s a cougar, bro!” That was all it took for Stan to decide he’d take someone else, and from there, Kyle had gently planted the idea that Stan should take his new boyfriend.

So there they were, at a table for two.

“Dark and dark don’t go together,” Cartman’s saying, frowning disapprovingly. He keeps eyeing the bread sticks, but he hasn’t touched them, probably for fear of messing his lipstick up. “Craig needs Tweek, for, like, contrast, you know? Blonde and black. It works. You can’t have two yangs.”

“The yin is the black one,” Kyle says boredly, just to correct him, though he doesn’t know for sure. “What about Token and Nichole?”

“That’s different.” Cartman waves a hand. “Craig and Stan - have you heard that thing about white gays, uh, dating their own lookalikes? That’s - yeah, that’s Craig and Stan.”

“They don’t look alike,” Kyle frowns. “Craig’s all angular and, like, lithe, or whatever, and Stan’s kinda softer and - and wider, like. He’s sturdy. Different body types, dude. Their faces are super different, too.”

“You sound gay as fuck right now, and I’m the one in drag.”

“Shut the hell up, Cartman. You didn’t have to be in drag, that was all you.”

Cartman quirks an arched brow at Kyle - if the redhead knew anything about makeup, he’d know that Cartman had glued his own eyebrows down, put foundation over them, and redrawn higher arches to achieve the alluring look he wanted; he’d learned a lot from all his hours of watching Drag Race. Kyle, however, is ignorant as hell, so he’s dumbfounded as to how Cartman pulled the look off, but incredibly irritated by how it’s impressive and almost endearing to him, that Cartman’s so good at passing as a girl. He’s a pretty one, too, all soft angles and gentle curves, his naturally pouty lips even poutier with the help of overdrawn lip liner and the pale pink of the lipstick he’s got on.

“I like being pretty,” Cartman explains simply, and Kyle scowls at him because of course he knows how good he looks. Smug bastard.

Kyle’s facing away from Craig and Stan’s table, because Cartman doesn’t look anything like himself from far away, but Kyle’s not wearing anything to disguise himself, other than the uncharacteristic suit; he’d be instantly recognizable if they saw his face, so he can’t risk it. So though he occasionally risks glances back, he’s mostly watching Cartman watch them, as he pretends to look at his menu - and no, Kyle’s not grateful for the excuse to stare at Cartman. He’s getting more and more anxious the longer he looks at him, because he looks like a very pretty girl and it’s confusing Kyle indefinitely. It’s still Cartman, he tells himself firmly.

He’s so busy convincing himself that he absolutely can’t find Cartman attractive, that he almost misses the panic in his eyes.

“What?” Kyle asks, starting to turn, but Cartman reaches out and grabs him, press-on red nails digging into Kyle’s forearm.

“They’re walking over here!”

“Fuck!”

“Quick, kiss me!”

“What? No!”

“They’ll recognize us from this close, Kahl!”

Kyle wants to argue, wants to come up with an alternative, anything but pressing his lips to Cartman’s, but they’re getting closer and he doesn’t have time - he grabs Cartman’s wrist and pulls him closer, tilting his head to the side and kissing him as chastely as he can - he refuses to let this be remotely passionate. The softly curly bangs of Cartman’s wig fall over both their faces, which is good; it’ll hide them.

Kyle tries to count in his head - ten seconds, he thinks, that should be good, they’ll be gone by then and I can pull away - but he gets to three before he becomes hyper-aware of the way Cartman’s lips feel against his own. He doesn’t want to think too hard about it, he really doesn’t, but it’s hard to ignore the glossy feel, how he smells faintly of strawberries, how his lips are warm and plush, just like the few girls Kyle’s been lucky enough to kiss. But this isn’t a girl, this is Cartman - and yet, somehow, when it’s been far longer than ten seconds, Kyle can’t bring himself to pull away. Part of him, the pre-installed horny teen that sits in the back of his mind and yells at him constantly for being more focused on school than getting laid, wants to deepen the kiss, wants to move closer to Cartman, who’s overwhelmingly soft and warm and pretty - but then someone clears their throat and Kyle pulls away, wide-eyed and disoriented.

It’s Kenny, and he’s grinning like a mad man. “Oh man,” he says merrily. “Oh man! Fuckin’ incredible!”

Kyle wants to ask what the hell Kenny is doing at a fancy place like this, but the waiter outfit he’s wearing answers his unspoken question. “Don’t tell anyone,” he says instead, quietly, glaring hard so Kenny knows he means business.

Kenny grins at him cryptically, winks at Cartman, then walks away with a joyous spring in his step.

“You’re a bastard,” Kyle says to Cartman, who looks, for once in his life, genuinely at a loss for words. “Kenny’s gonna tell everybody, and every kid in school will know you and I kissed - hell, it won’t take long for our parents to find out! Everyone will think I’m gay, and they’re gonna think I’m gay with you of all fucking people - you know how pissed my mom is gonna be? Not ‘cause I’m gay, and I’m not! I - I don’t even know what I am, but now people are gonna assume I am, and I won’t even get to have that to myself - fuck, my mom’s gonna be pissed because it’s you. Of all the eligible bastards, she’ll think I wanted you.”

Cartman’s looking at him with a strange mix of confusion and something akin to desire, freaky as that is. “You, uh - okay, bad timing, but do you wanna go out sometime?”

Kyle raises his eyebrows at him. “Are you fucking insane?”

“For you, babe, probably,” Cartman says smoothly. He pushes a curl of hair out of his face and bites his lip, trying for seductive, and Kyle’s genuinely angry that he has some irritating horrible terrible absolutely and completely subconscious desire to kiss him again.

Kyle looks away before he can get more upset. “We didn’t split up Stan and Craig, and now Kenny thinks we’re dating. This night couldn’t have gone any worse, and it’s all your fault. Why do you have to do things so outlandishly? We could’ve done literally anything else to get them to break up. But no, you just had to trick me into going on a date with you-” Then it dawns on Kyle, that that’s what this was all about in the first place. Craig and Stan were an afterthought; Cartman wanted an excuse to be with Kyle.

Cartman seems to realize that Kyle’s figured this out, because he has the nerve to look embarrassed. “It was perfect, Kahl,” he says quietly. “How was I supposed to pass up an opportunity like this?”

Kyle feels a rush of different and harshly conflicting emotions - irritation, a flash of hatred, betrayal, irritation again, anger, then something like desire, and passion, and that damn urge to kiss him again.

He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a few deep breaths. Then he stands up quickly and says, “Let’s go. We’re leaving.”

“Wait, now that my lipstick’s already smudged, I want some bread sticks-”

“Let’s go,” Kyle repeats, tugging on Cartman’s arm.

Cartman lets Kyle pull him to his feet, briefly rocking back and forth in his off brand Louie V heels. Now devoid of a reason to hide his crush on Kyle, he smiles happily and says, “You’re lucky I like it rough. Any other girl might slap you for being so rude.”

“You’re not a girl.” Kyle throws a tip down on the table, despite not having ate, and starts pulling Cartman toward the exit. He doesn’t know where Stan and Craig went, or even why they left, but he’s not thinking about them right now.

“No, I’m not, and that scares you, doesn’t it? Poor widdle baby Kahl, having his first gay panic-”

Kyle turns on him and bares his teeth, ignoring the fact that they’re being stared at. “I would shut the fuck up if I were you,” he growls, without thinking about it, but immediately regrets it when Cartman’s eyes go half-lidded. He can handle homoerotic overtones with a rival - but not with someone who so clearly is into him and who, terrifyingly, Kyle’s admittedly hot for himself.

Cartman goes silent, though, blissfully, as Kyle leads them out of the restaurant.

Once they’re outside, where it’s fairly empty other than an extended family in the parking lot saying their goodbyes, Kyle turns on Cartman. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Cartman grins at him. He looks like the cat that got the cream - and he looks like that a lot, he’s a smug asshole who gets his way far more often than he deserves to, but this time, things are different, and worse yet, this time, Kyle wants to kiss that self-satisfied smile right off his stupid face.

But that’s what Cartman wants, and Kyle won’t let him have it.

So instead, he says, “Are you free this Friday?”

Cartman smiles.

#kyman #my writing #answered #steidiz #this... is inspired by a family guy scene #do i care? no. we're passed that #also yay me i wrote a kiss!!!#i missed writing kyman this was fun yayyy

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themockingcrows · 5 years

Text

Companionship Through Circuitry Ch. 2: Radiation Blues

Bro/Hal This chapter can be found on my AO3! This chapter is SFW cw: vomit

Not everywhere is safe to sleep, and warnings shouldn't be ignored. Even if they come from pretentious sounding AI.

What are you doing.

"I'm writin' to my kid, mind your own business."

My God in Heaven save us all, you've procreated.

"Yeah, and my spawn's the raddest thing in the world, what about it. Mind your own business, I'm already smudgin' the shit out of this," Bro muttered, writing against his thigh on layered paper carefully as he could. Being a lefty was suffering sometimes, even if he tried his damndest to write neatly.

There were probably better ways to go about doing this, better times or places, but something about camp that night felt safe and secure, and it was about time for another letter to get written and sent out to check in and let him know what was up. So there he sat by his fire curled up with the paper on his thigh, detailing to Dave what he’d been up to and the newfound.. Friend? Follower? Companion?

The new sunglasses he got that happened to be sarcastic as shit.

If you don't want me to be observing, you should do something sensible. Like take me off your fucking face.

"That'd be too easy. Be a good little bot and hush now."

I am an AI, not a 'good little bot'. Don't be condescending to me.

"I'm sorry I hurt all two of your pre-programmed feelings but seriously, shut your trap for a second and let me write or I'll forget some shit," Bro complained, "I'm leavin' you on because I don't wanna wind up entirely blind to the dark outside the lit up area."

Sleeping would be good tonight. Not only was it safe enough for a little bit of fire by his judgement and with plenty of air to avoid problems from smoke, but there was more than enough room to stretch out and relax. He wouldn't be crammed into a corner or sleeping sitting up tonight, oh no. He'd be fully fed, warm, comfortably dry and sprawled out on a bedroll like he owned the damn place. Buildings without roofs were pretty rad sometimes, bless concrete and brick, bless the steel beams that supported the tall bitches, they made his heart beat.

I should probably warn you since you’re insisting on staying: you are exposed here.

"You said that earlier and I’m tellin’ you: I'm not that exposed. You've been out here what, a day? And tested pre-war. I've been out here forty odd years, let the master take a load off. I'll sleep well tonight'n clear out by dawn. The stairs are shitty and I took my board with me. There's fire between the stairs'n me, I can tuck duck'n roll if I gotta beat feet out the window to the dumpster.. Shit's fine."

That is not what I meant. I'm saying you're exposed to a lot of things here.

"Yeah, we've established that you're wron- ah motherfuck look what you made me do," he sighed, pen leaving a blob of ink in the center of a word he’d paused too long on. Shoddily made hunk of junk. Modern pens could never hold a candle to the sturdy as hell pre-war ones with their pressurized, ever ready gel ink.

Your health is at risk.

Bro let out a steady breath from his nose in irritation, finished writing his sentence by crooking his hand in an awkward claw to avoid the wet spot, and then fanned the paper in the air to dry the ink splotch faster so it wouldn't transfer between pages and locations when he folded it for sending later. Or adding on to, if anything interesting happened between now and the next time he saw someone willing to courier or pass along to a courier for him and a normal delivery fee.

"My health is absolutely fine. I get you’re pre-war and used to the regulations’n shit they required but this is different. ..Look, if you're that concerned just wake me up before bad shit happens to me. You don't need sleep, do you? Just a charge when your inner batteries get low or the onboard rechargin' system gets borked, the rest of the time you're doin' your own thing," Bro guessed. "Just siren me awake before I get nibbled on if you're so concerned about my bein' asleep up here. I'm a light sleeper."

The target t's in front of his eyes turned in a slow loading circle several times before he heard the confirmation chime once again near his ear.

Duly noted. Enjoy writing to your spawn, Bro.

"Was that so hard?" he asked, blowing on the ink for another moment before touching the splotch with a fingertip and finding it dry. Carefully he folded the letter up and tucked it into his bag with the traitor pen in its security cap beside it, then settled down on his sleeping roll with a heady sigh. Finally: off his feet, fully stretched out.. It'd be better to be on a mattress, he'd taken that for granted over the years, but hey this was still pretty sweet. Soft enough to relax on.. soft enough to sleep on..

His eyes grew heavy as he watched the fire crackle and pop now and then, hands folded over his pleasantly full stomach. Within minutes he was out cold, softly snoring with the glasses perched on his face and AR finally quiet. The unnaturally clear sky stretched out overhead and the ever moving wasteland felt like it stood still peacefully for once, just for a little while.

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

Ambrose could hear a sharp, electronic whine as if it were coming from under water. No matter how far or how close he got to it the whine stayed the same pitch, annoying and gnat like. There didn’t seem to be any escape, no way to silence it, not even any way to interact with it since he couldn’t lay eyes on it. Whatever it was pulsed a few times before going louder, making his ears ache and his head feel like it wanted to split. He was sure of one thing: once he got his hands on whatever was making that god awful sound, he was going to put his sword through it and beat it into the dirt till it rested in a million tiny pieces.

He grimaced and finally opened his eyes, staring up at the dark sky of pre-dawn, flickers of unchanging stars and the distant glimmer of what was probably either space junk giving up the ghost and crashing somewhere into the atmosphere or a run of the mill shooting star. This was a beautiful way to wake up aside from the sound pulsing in front of his ears from AR who promptly shut it off as soon as he was conscious, giving him a moment of head pounding reprieve to be more conscious. It was earlier than he wanted to be awake. Ambrose could feel his joints protesting movement and his skin.. itching. Wincing, Bro sat slowly upright and felt his world swimming around him sickeningly, face flushed and frigid at the same time. Everything had a fisheye lens quality to it that he wasn't enjoying in the slightest, and with a failed attempt at standing landing him on his knees again he crawled hurriedly to a corner far from his bedding to empty his stomach out onto the concrete.

Farewell fine dinner, you will be missed. At least it'd been there a few hours, so it wasn't a total waste of calories.

Ah, you're finally up.

"The fuck is hap- hrrk," he got out before another heave took him over, leaving his shoulders around his ears and cold sweat racing down his clammy spine.

I told you: you're exposed here and your health is at risk, AR repeated as if speaking to a particularly slow child.

Groaning, Bro rubbed at his mouth with the back of his forearm and slowly crawled back to his bedding and backpack to try making himself pack. The area was bad, he had to leave no matter how shitty he felt. "Yeah, mind clarifying why I feel like dogshit all at once?"

Radiation sickness is, as they say, a bitch like that. I'd recommend leaving the area promptly as you can to reduce increasing symptoms, and to obtain treatment at the nearest facility you can reach.

The nearest facility, he says. The nearest facility.

"What part of THE FUCKING BOMBS FELL LIKE TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO don't you understand?" Bro complained, gritting his teeth and hurriedly packing. This was going to be a bitch to walk through later, he could already feel it. "I've got some meds but they're not instant.. ugh, don't you think you could've clarified that I was nappin' in a contaminated spot?"

If you'll recall I did. Repeatedly.

"Sayin' my health's at risk and that I'm exposed are two different fuckin' things, and nowhere did you say radiation," growled Ambrose as he shouldered his bag and grabbed his board, heading for the stairs. Away from the light he prepared to lift the shades to his forehead, only to realize the view had changed to something akin to night vision. It wasn't crisp as a cat, but it sure as fuck was an improvement on normal vision, and twice as much on sick vision.

..Okay, so maybe he wouldn't chuck this bitch into the trash after all.

Typically humans take warnings about their health and safety more seriously than 'Yeah, hold my beer'.

"Let's clarify then: if I'm about to get shanked, shot, eaten, beaten, fricasseed or FUCKING IRRADIATED to a level that’d make me sick... you tell me which it is and I'll act accordingly," Ambrose reasoned. "Also, shit, thanks for changin' the vision over. Why didn't you say you could do this earlier?"

You never asked, nor do I assume you read my user manual, as last I was aware there was not one in production.

Ambrose made it downstairs and outside before he dry heaved once again into the dirt. He took a moment afterwards to clear his sinuses, hock and spit for distance to get rid of the scent of vomit from his nose. It was an improvement to be able to breathe again, but he couldn’t pause to rinse his mouth just yet. Fuck he’d kill for some mouthrinse, or some alcohol to wash the taste out of his mouth..

No time to lament, it was time to focus and get moving again. Right. North. He was going North. Which way was North.. Ambrose craned his head back to watch the sky before looking towards the hints of dawn in the distance and adjusting his pathing accordingly.

"Y'know, I bet you've prolly got all kinds of maps and shit available to you," he said, "but I wish you had current maps. A lot of places just straight up don't exist or matter anymore compared to what mattered pre-war. ...And also, let me know when we're free of the contamination zone."

I am capable of adjusting my saved maps if required. Simply show me an adjusted one and I can save the data, or I can alter an existing copy. Also, you're lucky you look like Dirk. I don't believe I'd be willing to help anyone else who spoke to me half as carelessly and crudely as you do.

"Unless I had cheat codes I bet. What, havin' wet robo dreams about your creator or somethin'?"

It's not like that in the slightest, AR insisted in the same stoic monotone as usual, though somewhere in there Ambrose swore up and down he could detect a trace of something more.

"If I wake up with condensation all over you at some point I'm gonna just assume you were focusing too hard on this Dirk guy whose eyes I've got," Ambrose said. "What's robo jizz when you're an AI. Solder? Joint grease? Lubricant of some kind?"

I take back my previous warnings. The area we have left is perfectly clear of radiation. A good long nap is in order in the very clear safe area you were last camping in.

Bro smirked in amusement at the fact he was able to get beneath the skin of something that didn't even have skin to begin with. There was no reason to hold back on this thing. Yes there were feelings, but it wasn't quite the same as heckling Dave. Not the same at all.

This thing gave as good as it got and held no punches, not even when his life had been on the line. Something that could talk shit when he was at risk of dying while also helping him was kind of refreshing.

He kept walking till AR gave the all clear, then slowly took his bag off and sank down to sit in a clear area near some rocks, back against the unyielding surface to keep propped up as he rummaged out a container of pills and a container of water. Unable to really trust the water much anymore after the time it had spent in the contamination zone with him, but having no other options currently, Ambrose took a dose of medication with a few swigs.. before shrugging and draining the rest of the container. Being dehydrated was just as dangerous as what he was trying to cure and would kill him even faster to boot. Low grade radiation was no laughing matter, but damage and weakness from dehydration would just make death inevitable. Putting the pills and the empty container back into his bag, Ambrose sighed and closed his eyes for a few minutes, wanting it all to hit his stomach and settle instead of just coming back up immediately in a waste. AR had his back, and every time he opened his eyes he could see sharp outlines in the green wash of night vision. He did not envy future him in the slightest.. and made a mental note to scavenge bathrooms at the nearest opportunity to re-stock on toilet paper before it became a hot commodity.

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

By the afternoon, Ambrose was still sick but far more mobile. Not in top fighting condition, but mobile. AR had, on his own volition, taken the request from earlier to heart and was keeping an eye out on the surroundings even in directions Ambrose wasn't currently focusing on. His peripheral vision had never been sharper than when a soft, steady voice alerted him to movement from one direction or another to avoid run ins with unwanted animals or people who held no good intentions for him. He kept his grip tight on his sword and used it when absolutely necessary, such as when a hungry wild dog caught scent of him and came in for the kill, but otherwise skirted around even the odd herd animal in case it turned violent. There just wasn’t energy to spare when every step felt like he was running in place.

It was a strange symbiotic relationship, but Bro was content with it for now. The best part of this was that voice didn't sound worried. It was comforting to not have emotion tied into it, letting him pick and choose his reactions at a better pace than feeding into potentially misplaced concerns. No frantic cries or stress, no aggression, not even suggestion in the tone. Just flat, simple alerts telling him which way to turn his head to make his own choices.

The sight of more and more people all filtering the same direction off in the horizon gave Bro a strong sense of relief as night came on. There was a glow in the distance as well, lights and flickery power and people and opportunities to rest and trade safely. Well. Safely as it could get out here anyway. From the shake in his legs and the nausea he was still feeling, the fever, this was a bit of a miracle in itself that he’d stumbled upon a populated trade area. Surely there was a doctor tucked away in there making a killing worth of profit from the locals and the unwary like himself that drifted in.

What had once been a strip mall complex had been reborn as a shopping center for everything from weaponry to clothing to farming supplies, and a nearby apartment block was divvied up to serve as a hotel. The cheapest rooms were the ones shared with multiple people and the cots all in one cramped space, while the more expensive guaranteed privacy of all facilities. Cheap but not that cheap, Bro opted for a room that could be split with another two people instead of several, and lucked out that at the time the amount of people were low and he had privacy for a while. Maybe he should have gone cheaper and shared with others.. But the thought of sharing a bathroom with six people while this sick was unpleasant.

Depositing his baggage beneath the cot he'd rented, he hauled his happy carcass to find the physician and got some extra treatment by way of a quick injection and a good dose of Prussian blue for good measure once he paid the fee. The doctor was used to this kind of thing, and said he should count himself lucky it wasn’t a higher dose that hit his organs. Blood transfusions were hit or miss outside of vaults or areas with more old tech to keep running. He purchased a few more items to take with him just in case of more issues, some more bandages as well, and then wished the physician farewell. After a bit more shopping, a shower and a change of clothes were also a godsend, though he was displeased with how little the collar of the new shirt could be popped compared to the old stained one he was ditching.

Oh well. Sacrifices must be made sometimes even for the suffering. He’d find a decent shirt somewhere else surely, somewhere with some proper abuse of starch.

AR was alternately chatty and silent, observing how society functioned now, from the money to the layout of the buildings and repurposing of property. It wasn't just an Ambrose thing then. The building codes were just chucked out the window entirely and everyone made the best of what they had or what they could get apparently. Even the fashion was different. It was a lot to take in and process, but every curious AR was taking careful notes and using his self teaching abilities to learn all that he could through observation. Ambrose answered every single one of his questions which was surprising but welcome, and he caught himself wondering if it was because he’d raised a child before that the constant barrage of ‘how, why, when, where, why, why, why’ didn’t drive him immediately up the wall.

Maybe the spawn was a boon instead of an unfortunate.

Dinner was courtesy of the strip mall, a restaurant near the end having a nice cozy atmosphere and plenty of good smelling smoke coming from its cracked open front door. The interior seemed to have been a restaurant pre-war as well, though many modifications had been done since to allow for the new dining options. Bro splurged on a double pattied burger with what was supposed to be cheese and sauce and even sprouts on top, easy to grow and even easier to not cook wrong. He got a serving of homemade pickles to put some of the salt back in his body from the sickness earlier, and even some pre-war dessert in a tightly sealed package. It had been Dave’s absolute favorite, an apple treat, and maybe it was the sentimental side of him acting up but he was sure it’d taste even sweeter than he remembered now that it’d been a while since experiencing it.

Bro. Are you certain your belongings are safe where you left them? It seems rather dog eat dog out here, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone robbed you blind.

"They saw what bag I was carryin' when I came in, and what room I'm in. Beyond that.. just gotta hope people're decent," he shrugged, feeding his hunger while he actually had it. He might still feel like he had the flu, but facts were facts: sometimes a guy just needed to stuff his face with greasy food to feel a bit more human.

I suppose there must be laws or rules in different settlements, AR mused. Recreations of what once was.

"Yeah, there's rules,” Bro said, counting off on his fingers as he talked with his mouth half full. “Don't be a douchebag, don't get caught bein' a douchebag, and if you start shit you get hit with deadly force because nobody's got time for even more bullshit than we've already gotta deal with." He licked his thumb free of some pickle juice as he finished listing things off, then dove in for some more. Sweet electrolytes take him home.

Don't forget to send your letter.

Startled that he’d nearly forgotten, Bro straightened up and glanced to the door to gauge how late it must be before turning back to his plate to finish his serving of food off. On a spur of the moment, swooning from the food, he caught the owner’s attention and got a sweet cola as well. The attempts at making fresh never tasted quite the same as the pre-war stock, and it was worth the extra bit of payment to ensure the bubbles were all his.

"Shit, you're right. Bit too late to do it right now, but the mornin' I should be able to find someone. This place is permanent it seems like, there'll be traders back and forth no doubt," he said. "Good call AR."

Hal.

"Come again?" Bro asked, confused.

Bro's vision flickered briefly as the letters H A L crossed his vision, followed by the same strange pair of red eyes with dark sclera he'd seen before. It lasted just a few seconds before fading out of sight, leaving him with the usual target t's of the shades instead.

My name. It’s Hal.

"Isn't your name AR?"

That is another sort of name, yes. But I would prefer if you called me Hal.

"...It's what Dirk called you, isn't it," Ambrose guessed.

Yes. But I would still prefer to have a name than an acronym.

Bro used one gloved, rough hand to twist off the cap from the bottle of soda and take a swig. It was sweet enough it made his teeth hurt a bit. Perfect end to a greasy, rich meal. His upset stomach would thank him for it later surely, but he was prepared for it now.

"Alright then. Hal. I can do that."

Thank yo-

"Soon as you admit my name isn't stupid."

The targets disappeared and the turning circles reappeared for a time like a holding signal.

Request does not compute. Name too unfortunate to register over acceptable name of Bro for user. Unable to re-register user, he said, accompanied by the saddest excuse for a failure tune Bro had ever heard in 8bit melody.

He sighed.

"Fine, fine. God damn you're a prick for a guy without a prick, Hal."

I've no doubt that will be rectified once we find my body. Keep your commentary in line with that thought as if it were already reality moving forward.

"Give an inch take a mile. Alright, duly noted. ...Wait, why the fuck would a government made AI need a fuckin' di-"

My creator was all about authenticity.

"...Right."

It's true.

"This is my rifle, this is my gun, this one's for shootin' this one's for fun," Ambrose sighed, tipping his bottle back to swig the rest of the drink down before casually belching the rush of bubbles back out. Phew. Better. Goodbye nausea, hello sweet relief.

I've no idea what you are referring to.

"Keep takin' notes, Hal, you'll catch up eventually to everything that Dirk didn't program into you. That's all the fun shit anyway, people always forget the real fun shit."

#Stridercest #Bro Strider #Lil Hal #AR #BroHal #my fic #Homestuck

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newagefaction-blog · 7 years

Text

My Letter To Rand Al Thor 19

By MM2K

Rand Al Thor 19 is a man embedded deep into the Xbox community. He is known as the “man with a million” referring to his Xbox gamer score which is hella impressive. Nevertheless, he has been under heat for doing the ultimate taboo as of late - being an Xbox fan, and criticizing the Xbox system. To me, despite my rebuts on Twitter which go against people spreading lies and mistruths as facts, being that anal about someone’s opposition to something Xbox related is absurd. It befouls the culture of gaming and continues to send it on this downward spiral it has been since 2010 - no true innovation, just fanboying, hype and click baiting.

It is in reference to click baiting that I wrote this article. At the time of this writing, Rand Al released a video where he announces he will end “click-baiting” the title in his videos. Click baiting is a recent term used to describe the act of severely over hyping the title of ones social media/online content to draw attention, therefore increasing the “clicks” or number of people open and read the article. Are Rand’s articles truly click bait? I don’t think so. In response I write an open letter to Rand on his channel which you can also see here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uI5PCOeIXhU&sns=tw

“ Rand.... I truly appreciate your candor, transparency and desire to satisfy the masses. Guess what, you can't satisfy the masses.... You got the fanbase you have by doing what you do. I'm not totally against click baiting unless its like SERIOUS exaggeration or flat out lie. However, there's nothing wrong with hyping up your title - a little - so it stands out. People need to be real here and stop the Emo bitchin. It's driving me crazy. Rand and other content providers put things out on youtube at a great cost and a lot of hardwork. There is compensation to be had for this to continue at the same quality. Part of that compensation comes via views. IT is what it is. No need to cry over it folks. Good titles of articles are to have some ambiguity, draw attention, and yes have a little hype. These MF's aint writin for NPR i.e. ".... Water drips slowly down wall" no dorks it's more like ".... Water continues to drip down wall, is somebody's bill about to get high!" Now if it read like ..." Water runs down wall. Trust me pipe will burst and drown city. Phil should have seen this coming..." then we would have a problem. Rand's articles never read like that. Rand, who am I to suggest this. However, let the haters hate. I don't think you need to change anything bro. Did the CD3 article rub some people wrong, yeah but so TFW. It was your opinion, you did not dog MS entirely just their approach to CD3. Honestly, I came out looking at the situation differently from you, but guess what it's ok. People can counter your argument and move on. You're not the problem. The problem is too many people have issues within the Xbox community. We're turning on each other because we're falling for the puke pundit noise, and the fanboy bullshit ourselves. The systems problem was that it lacked the hardware to garner the 3rd party support that Sony got. "Sony is crushing MS in exclusives" - that's a farce. Sony exclusive attach rate is 3% where MS' is 5% this gen. MS was getting killed in 3rd party sales because of the box. With the X that has been resolved. Will it close the gap entirely - likely not, but will it bring back that third party support and a lot of the strayers, hell yeah. In closing that's what lies within this problem. Both console communities are so toxic, they now think its all about looking at numbers, pumping your chest if your consoles on top and dogging the other. It's pathetic. Too many Xbox fans are mad because they can't do that this time. They want MS to do something drastic to give them those bragging rights over night. This is despite the company's status which is doing hella fine, the number of AAA full game exclusives (27 to Sony's 35) and the avg Metacritic of these exclusives (77.65 to Sony's 79.08). Despite this, without those "we're 1" in numbers bragging rights people want to go ape-shit. We are now turning on one another. Rand, you've become a target cause you won't hold MS' sac with everything they do. This needs to stop. If Sony fans want to praise all PlayStation, let them do it. I became part of the MS community because they were different. As of late, not so much .... “

~MM2K

#rand al'thor #Xbox #Crackdown 3

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lyrics2world · 4 years

Text

Middle Child Lyrics - J.Cole

Middle Child Lyrics Song Sung By J.Cole.Song.Song Directed By Mez.Song Creative Direction By Scott Lazer.Song Edited By Roberta Spitz.Song Produced By Daniel Yaro.

Song Credit

Song - Middle Child

Singer - J.Cole

Director - Mez

Creative Direction - Scott Lazer

Edited - Roberta Spitz

Executive Producer - Candice Dragonas

Produced - Daniel Yaro

Middle Child Lyrics

You good, T-Minus?

Niggas been countin' me out

I'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips

I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list

I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit

The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit

The game is off balance, I'm back on my shit

The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty

But that's how I like it, you all on my dick

I'm all in my bag, this hard as it get

I do not snort powder, I might take a sip

I might hit the blunt, but I'm liable to trip

I ain't poppin' no pill, but you do as you wish

I roll with some fiends, I love 'em to death

I got a few mil' but not all of them rich

What good is the bread if my niggas is broke?

What good is first class if my niggas can't sit?

That's my next mission, that's why I can't quit

Just like LeBron, get my niggas more chips

Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist

This watch came from Drizzy, he gave me a gift

Back when the rap game was prayin' I'd diss

They act like two legends cannot coexist

But I'd never beef with a nigga for nothin'

If I smoke a rapper, it's gon' be legit

It won't be for clout, it won't be for fame

It won't be 'cause my shit ain't sellin' the same

It won't be to sell you my latest lil' sneakers

It won't be 'cause some nigga slid in my lane

Everything grows, it's destined to change

I love you lil' niggas, I'm glad that you came

I hope that you scrape every dollar you can

I hope you know money won't erase the pain

To the OGs, I'm thankin' you now

Was watchin' you when you was pavin' the ground

I copied your cadence, I mirrored your style

I studied the greats, I'm the greatest right now

Fuck if you feel me, you ain't got a choice

Now I ain't do no promo, still made all that noise

This shit gon' be different, I set my intentions

I promise to slap all that hate out your voice

Niggas been countin' me out

I'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips

I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list

I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit

The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit

The game is off balance, I'm back on my shit

The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty

But that's how I like it, you all on my dick

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

I just poured somethin' in my cup

I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel

Promise I am never lettin' up

Money in your palm don't make you real

Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck

I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel

If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck

Pistol in your hand don't make you real

I'm dead in the middle of two generations

I'm little bro and big bro all at once

Just left the lab with young 21 Savage

I'm 'bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch

Had a long talk with the young nigga Kodak

Reminded me of young niggas from 'Ville

Straight out the projects, no fakin', just honest

I wish that he had more guidance, for real

Too many niggas in cycle of jail

Spending they birthdays inside of a cell

We coming from a long bloodline of trauma

We raised by our mamas, Lord we gotta heal

We hurting our sisters, the babies as well

We killing our brothers, they poisoned the well

Distorted self image, we set up to fail

I'ma make sure that the real gon' prevail, nigga

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

I just poured somethin' in my cup

I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel

Promise I am never lettin' up

Money in your palm don't make you real

Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck

I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel

If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck

Pistol in your hand don't make you real

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

Money in your palm don't make you real

Pistol in your hand don't make you real

Money in your palm don't make you real.

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jennifermariedonahue · 5 years

Text

“Middle Child” -J Cole

I’m countin' my bullets, I'm loadin’ my clips I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin’ ’em hit The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit The game is off balance, I’m back on my shit The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty But that's how I like it, you all on my dickI'm all in my bag, this hard as it get I do not snort powder, I might take a sip I might hit the blunt, but I'm liable to trip I ain’t poppin' no pill, but you do as you wish I roll with some fiends, I love 'em to death I got a few mil' but not all of them rich What good is the bread if my niggas is broke? What good is first class if my niggas can't sit? That's my next mission, that's why I can't quit Just like LeBron, get my niggas more chips Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist This watch came from Drizzy, he gave me a gift Back when the rap game was prayin' I'd diss They act like two legends cannot coexist But I'd never beef with a nigga for nothin' If I smoke a rapper, it's gon' be legit It won't be for clout, it won't be for fame It won't be 'cause my shit ain't sellin' the same It won't be to sell you my latest lil' sneakers It won't be 'cause some nigga slid in my lane Everything grows, it's destined to change I love you lil' niggas, I'm glad that you came I hope that you scrape every dollar you can I hope you know money won't erase the pain To the OGs, I'm thankin' you now Was watchin' you when you was pavin' the ground I copied your cadence, I mirrored your style I studied the greats, I'm the greatest right now Fuck if you feel me, you ain't got a choice Now I ain't do no promo, still made all that noise This year gon' be different, I set my intentions I promise to slap all that hate out your voiceNiggas been countin' me out I'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit The game is off balance, I'm back on my shit The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty But that's how I like it, you all on my dickI just poured somethin' in my cup I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel Promise I am never lettin' up Money in your palm don't make you real Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck Pistol in your hand don't make you realI'm dead in the middle of two generations I'm little bro and big bro all at once Just left the lab with young 21 Savage I'm 'bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch Had a long talk with the young nigga Kodak Reminded me of young niggas from 'Ville Straight out the projects, no fakin', just honest I wish that he had more guidance, for real Too many niggas in cycle of jail Spending they birthdays inside of a cell We coming from a long bloodline of trauma We raised by our mamas, Lord we gotta heal We hurting our sisters, the babies as well We killing our brothers, they poisoned the well Distorted self image, we set up to fail I'ma make sure that the real gon' prevail, niggaI just poured somethin' in my cup I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel Promise I am never lettin' up Money in your palm don't make you real Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck Pistol in your hand don't make you realMoney in your palm don't make you real Pistol in your hand don't make you real Money in your palm don't make you real

#jcole #songlyrics #middlechild

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dreamsaretangiblegoals · 5 years

Text

New Music from J Cole "Middle Child" #Dreamville @JColeNC @Dreamville

New music from one of my favorite artists in this era J Cole “Middle Child” was released Wed night. I am entertained by the Forest Hill Drive creator’s outspokenness, especially when it came to the song “False Prophet which was been on repeat since it was released. The first verse in the song False Prophet had many questioning and wondering was he referencing Kanye West.

Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this Be like this, be like this Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this

Yeah, life is a balance You lose your grip, you can slip into an abyss No doubt you see these niggas trippin' Ego in charge of every move, he's a star And we can't look away Due to the days that he caught our hearts He's fallin' apart, but we deny it Justifying that half-ass shit he dropped, we always buy it When he tell us he a genius but it's clearer lately It's been hard for him to look into the mirror lately There was a time when this nigga was my hero, maybe That's the reason why his fall from grace is hard to take 'Cause I believed him when he said his shit was purer and he The type of nigga swear he real but all around him's fake The women, the dickriders, you know, the yes men Nobody with the balls to say somethin' to contest him So he grows out of control Into the person that he truly was all along, it's startin' to show Damn, wonder what happened Maybe it's my fault for idolizing niggas Based off the words that he rappin' When come to find out, these niggas don't even write they shit Hear some new style bubblin' up, then they bite the shit Damn, that's what I get for lyin' to myself Well, fuck it, what's more important is he's cryin' out for help While the world's eggin' him on, I'm beggin' him to stop Playin' his old shit, knowin' he won't top it, false prophets

Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this Be like this, be like this Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this Be like this (False prophets) Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this Be like this, be like this Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this Yeah, false prophets

Well apparently and accordingly the internet is saying that this is a dis to “Kanye”, we shall see how this pans out. In the meanwhile let me know your thoughts below are the Lyrics to the song courtesy of XXL.

J. Cole's "Middle Child" Lyrics

Intro

"You good, T-Minus?"

Refrain

"Niggas been countin' me out I’m countin' my bullets, I'm loadin’ my clips I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin’ ’em hit The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit The game is off balance, I’m back on my shit The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty But that's how I like it, you all on my dick"

Verse One

"I'm all in my bag, this hard as it get I do not snort powder, I might take a sip I might hit the blunt, but I'm liable to trip I ain’t poppin' no pill, but you do as you wish I roll with some fiends, I love 'em to death I got a few mil;' but not all of them rich What good is the bread if my niggas is broke? What good is first class if my niggas can't sit? That's my next mission, that's why I can't quit Just like LeBron, get my niggas more chips Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist This watch came from Drizzy, he gave me a gift Back when the rap game was prayin' I'd diss They act like two legends cannot coexist But I'd never beef with a nigga for nothin' If I smoke a rapper, it's gon' be legit It won't be for clout, it won't be for fame It won't be 'cause my shit ain't sellin' the same It won't be to sell you my latest lil' sneakers It won't be 'cause some nigga slid in my lane Everything grows, it's destined to change I love you lil' niggas, I'm glad that you came I hope that you scrape every dollar you can I hope you know money won't erase the pain To the OGs, I'm thankin' you now Was watchin' you when you was pavin' the ground I copied your cadence, I mirrored your style I studied the greats, I'm the greatest right now Fuck if you feel me, you ain't got a choice Now I ain't do no promo, still made all that noise This shit gon' be different, I set my intentions I promise to slap all that hate out your voice"

[Refrain]

"Niggas been countin' me out I'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit The game is off balance, I'm back on my shit The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty But that's how I like it, you all on my dick"

Hook

"I just poured somethin' in my cup I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel Promise I am never lettin' up Money in your palm don't make you real Foot is on their neck, I got 'em stuck I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck Pistol in your hand don't make you real"

Verse Two

"I'm dead in the middle of two generations I'm little bro and big bro all at once Just left the lab with young 21 Savage I'm 'bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch Had a long talk with the young nigga Kodak Reminded me of young niggas from 'Ville Straight out the projects, no fakin', just honest I wish that he had more guidance, for real Too many niggas in cycle of jail Spending they birthdays inside of a cell We coming from a long bloodline of trauma We raised by our mamas, Lord we gotta heal We hurting our sisters, the babies as well We killing our brothers, they poisoned the well Distorted self image, we set up to fail I'ma make sure that the real gon' prevail, nigga"

Hook

Outro

"Money in your palm don't make you real Pistol in your hand don't make you real Money in your palm don't make you real"

#J Cole #Middle Child #Dreamville

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daddygodzilla69 · 6 years

Audio

Listen, music my flesh and blood, it’s been my only love since ye high I used to play Jay high and Ye high Thinkin’ one day I would go from fan to fuckin’ player I guess I found a way huh, my nigga Cozz wants Zendaya A side note, I’m rootin’ for you, I use these bars and start recruitin’ for you But treat her right And just remember, on your lonely nights this mic will be your friend You tell it all your secrets that you keepin’ deep within Your fantasies, regrets, your happy moments and your sins And if he doesn’t comprehend, at least he can pretend Let’s begin to be the men we never seen In the 80’s they smoke crack but now today they sippin’ lean And poppin’ Xannies, fuck niggas runnin’ from their families The streets don’t give a fuck about the Grammys Wish I could talk to granny, wish I could smoke in peace But when it hit the blunt lately my mind it tortures me Everything ain’t supposed to be, apparently I take it as a sign and stick the shit that’s steerin’ me In the direction of some clarity This music is my therapy, I thank the Lord ‘cause he care for me

How else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? You know I gotta thank God How else I make it this far? (far)

Music is my soul and fuel I guess it only saves a chosen few From goin’ to school or sellin’ dope, crazy Back in school, I was bumpin’ Cole daily Now I’m writin’ rhymes in the notebook that Cole gave me And bro you so crazy, but all I can do is thank you You threw your boy a lob, and shit, I ain’t even say to But fuck it, all that shit he stay true 'Cause you a dime, I’m sure you hear that every day, cool So look, fuck bein’ fine 'cause I know you got a brain too And shit, let me not get my plate full, you know your brain moves A little different when you haven’t ate food So I'ma leave it up to fate to make these decisions And stick to my intentions I did it for more of the passion, not the great checks Knowin’ that there’s more than fat asses and great sex Tryna be the man I ain’t yet But demons stuck on me like ashes on gray sweats 'Cause man I ain’t made shit and I’m lackin’ the patience It’s a battle to take in’ the fact that I ain’t win, yet What am I sayin’ again, I can’t go play and win I travel and take trips, I look to God then I thank him

How else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? Yeah, how else I make it this far? How else I make it this far? You know I gotta thank God How else I make it this far? (far)

Look, I ain’t got money to blow but I’m gettin’ there, dawg Can’t get momma a home but I’m gettin’ there y'all Won’t reach the end of the road, just sittin’ there dawg How you gon’ learn to grow if you ain’t listenin’ y'all? Look, I’m still a student of the game but I been through some things And I could school you rather say don’t be clueless in the brain You gotta learn to fly before you cruisin’ with the planes And you could be a boss, just gotta do it in your lane Choosin’ and choose to pray instead of choosin’ to pray To use and abuse for pay You doin’ it for the love or you doin’ it to get praised? What would you do for fame? If it was family or money, they probably lose you today Probably go buy a car and try and coupe with the pain Sometimes homies and hoes is truly the same Try and screw you for change, yeah it’s truly a shame But somehow I seem to see the beauty in the rain I made it this far

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e-pad-blog1 · 7 years

Text

3/10/17

Sorry that I haven’t wrote anything I said I would try to write everyday and I haven’t been but I knew I could today so here I am. Writin.  I woke up today, debated preordering the Nintendo switch. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get it. It looks good for hanging out and stuff. So today I’m not sure if my sarcasm is hinderance to me. Like maybe it is maybe it’s not who knows I don’t. I feel like sarcasm is in my blood not as in therefore you should feel bad for me or anything. The last thing I want from anybody is pity. Ok no the last thing I want is another shitty Percy Jackson movie to come out but second to that it’s pity. I want to be special sure like I don’t want to be bland and be a cubicle worker later on so I’m not saying I just want to be normal. But I don’t want to be spotted out of a group for sometimes being sad and depressed. I don’t want anyone to look down on me. I also don’t want to look down on anyone I want to be able to talk to someone at eyes view and still have a real conversation. And be special and be unique and different. And if that’s not your thing to be like that then don’t do that I’m not saying everyone should be. I just don’t want to be special for some problem I have or had or being sad sometimes or whatever. I just want to be Atlas(it’s a gamer tag for battlenet not saying I want to hold up the world). The awkward theatre gamer nerd. I don’t want to be head of my class or have a ton of cool surfer friends who enjoy taking their shirts off and fuckin girls, I want to get the main in a play and beat that shitty final boss. That was on a tangent. Poop. That’s ok. I’m glad I got it outta me. On a thing that is something I can read and stuff. Back to sarcasm. I said a sarcastic comment today that I felt might have been kind of mean but I’m not sure I mean I didn’t know what kind the context of what I was teasing but hey I did it.  Now I feel like kind of a dick. Also this is gonna go on another tangent but I want to get this out as well so In 6th grade a girl pressured me into sending inappropriate pictures to her. And I did and I felt terrible after and it got in my head at that point and after as sick as it was I talked to the girl again and I felt equally shitty the second time when I didn’t do anything but it got in my head and that was weird and I feel disgusting even now that she could tell people about that because in the past she over exaggerated things and gossiped and stuff and I don’t know. I just feel gross from all of that and Im writing it now and it feels good to address it on paper. Back again again to sarcasm so that’s drilled into me and I think it’d be good to get that habit out and stuff. I’m blaming Rick Riordan a bit for that because he definitely has contributed to my problem. Another side track. Right now I have 2 bffs for evs and I love them so much despite one of them canceling plans with me pretty close to the dot. I’m gonna talk about them for a sec because I’m very happy that they are in my life. •Freshy princess of hell who cares -freshmen who I met through the play is very strange and awkward and not good at talking to people and watches h3h3 -theatre nerd and let’s me be pretty gay even though I’m like totally straight even though I would date and do find really good looking guys really good looking. But yeah super straight ha definitely no sarcasm just complete truth yeah definitely -she’s good at being chill and letting my vent about shit that’s going on and talking calmly to me about stuff -only knew this person for about 6 months and it feels like we’ve been friends for at least a couple years. •Helios -cool stoner dude who is so nice and kind and good to me and I love him to death cuz like we got that bromance like no other. He’s the Wayne to my Garth any day. We both play the same games and we’re both really awkward gamer dudes on the inside and he is just such a good guy and I love him so much. -legit epitome of the best friend. He’s the guy I would easily trust to catch me from a burning building and stuff and right now he’s saving money for a straight date for the two of us to go and have dinner after he gets payed and man like I don’t have feelings for him, like romantically. I love him like a brother though, for fuckin sure ez. -we’ve both gone through how shitty heartbreak can be and both came through the other side of shit and bros for fuckin life. I will miss the fuck out of this man in college jeezus Christ. (Ok so minor thing the new significant other interest I have is still there and she is just so cute and I hate it cuz I don’t know how to ask a date of her but she is a cutie and I hate feelings fuck u feelings for cute people god damn shittttfuck) So now I think I’m good that’s out of me. Peace y'all have a great day. Even though I will be the only one to read this ha buh bye and I hope u find other things like this on the bllooooogggggyloooogggggy tag as well.

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