#how can you not love her when she's on the Top 20 Craziest & Insane Anime Girls Of All Time list

[ligninn]

"This is called the "Rippling Sword". "Rippling Ophelia"… Great name, don't you think? But it's not too well known yet. Because most of the people who've seen it are dead."

For better quality, you can check here

The frame is on amazon btw :)

[argylemnwrites]

Get To Know... Riley Liu

Thanks for the tag @mskaneko​! I may have gone into way more detail than anyone could possibly care about, hahaha!

1. Name (+ bonus  why did you choose that name?)

Riley Liu, or Riley Walker after the wedding

I almost never change first names (I don’t particularly like coming up with names, and I’m always afraid I’m going to give my MC another character’s name, but Brooks just didn’t feel like a realistic surname for a Chinese-American woman)

2. Faceclaim

Kaman Kong

3. Nicknames

Liu, Walker in canon universe after her wedding

4. Birthday

June 17th

5. Height

5′7″

6. Eye color

Dark brown

7. Hair color

Black

8. Love interest (why did she choose this person?)

Drake Walker

No one had ever understood her and made her feel seen like he did, and he flirted with her by teasing/bantering, which is how she flirts as well. She never felt like she had to watch what she said or how she acted around him, and he still wanted to spend time with her and really get to know her. Plus, she thought he was good looking.

9. Best friend

Hana Lee

10. Personality traits

Snarky, goofy, competitive, fierce, protective

11. Family background

Her mother (Mei) was 19 years old when she had Riley and had been dating her father (Henry, age 23) for 7 months when she found out she was pregnant. Her mother thought that they would settle down and be a nice little family, but Henry had little interest in starting a family. Her parents were a volatile on-again, off-again couple until Riley was 3 years old, at which point they broke up for good. Riley saw him only a handful of times before he moved back to Beijing when she was 6 years old. Her paternal grandparents never even knew she existed, and she hasn’t spoken to her father since then.

Mei struggled with depression and anxiety and turned to heroin to cope. Her addiction made it difficult for her to hold down a job, and she frequently stole from her parents to pay for her next hit. Not knowing how to help their daughter, and not having the money to get her treatment, Riley’s grandparents kicked them out when Riley was 2 years old. They thought that this tough love approach would force Mei to get clean in order to care for her daughter, but it didn’t work as they’d hoped. Instead, Mei and Riley had very unstable housing, often sleeping on the floor of apartments of Mei’s friends, boyfriends, or dealers. When Riley was 10, Mei was arrested for the first time, and thus began a cycle of Riley being placed with a foster family while her mother served time, Mei getting clean and regaining custody, but eventually relapsing and forcing Riley back into the system.

Mei died from an OD when Riley was in her final year of college. In order to pay off her outstanding debts and give her a minimal funeral, Riley was forced to drop out of college. 

12. Hometown

NYC (Manhattan, primarily Chinatown or the surrounding neighborhoods)

13. Education

Completed 6 semesters of college through a combination of loans, scholarships, and service industry jobs before dropping out after her mother’s debt. Riley only applied to college because it allowed her access to subsidized housing away from her mother.

In the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, Riley does eventually complete those last two semesters.

14. What languages does she know?

English, and she can understand conversational Mandarin (and can speak a little bit, but cannot read or write it) from time spent with her maternal grandparents when she was very young. She’s picked up some basic Spanish over the years as well through friends, coworkers, and a good foster family.

15. Occupation

Duchess in canon, which will never stop feeling ridiculous to her. In the ICWAM universe, she gets a job doing image management for public figures with a PR firm after she completes her college education, at least for a while...

16. Dream job

When she was little, she wanted to be a rock star. Now that she’s older, she’s very much a work to live, not live to work person, so she counts a job that pays her well that she doesn’t hate as a win.

17. Hidden talent

Darts. She’s insanely good, even when drunk.

18. Her strengths

Resiliency, flexibility, adaptability

19. Her weaknesses

Fears of abandonment, avoidance of needed negative conversations, impulsivity, impatience

20. Pet peeves

Passive aggressiveness, bad tippers

21. Guilty pleasure

Soap operas

22. Ideal outfit

Skinny jeans, black leather boots, a bright colored top, and her trusty leather jacket

23. Favorite season

Summer

24. Favorite vacation spot

Anywhere with good beaches. In all honesty, she’d only been on one trip before Cordonia (with her first foster family, the Veras), so any vacation feels like a real treat to her.

25. Celebrity crush

Matt Rodriguez

26. Who is her inspiration

The two sets of good foster parents she had, Hana

27. Whats is the craziest thing she has ever done?

She got on a plane to a country she’d never heard of with a guy she met less than 24 hours earlier

28. Describe her dream date

A casual meal and drinks over some sort of competitive activity (pool, darts, poker, giant jenga, you name it) Teasing, banter, and competition are all flirting/foreplay for her.

29. What’s more important for her in a relationship: physical attraction or emotional connection?

She always thought physical attraction prior to Drake, because she never thought she would be in a long-term committed relationship. But her emotional connection to Drake is something she never could have thought would be something she would experience, and she treasures it.

30. Three things she would take to a desert island

A pocket knife, a lighter, a flask

31. What is one thing she could never forgive?

A partner who stormed out in a fight without letting her know where he was going

32. What gets her out of bed in the morning?

Like, what motivates her? When things are good, a general sense of wanting to enjoy what she currently has. When things are bad, the belief that it will pass and things will get better.

Or, if we are talking what physically gets her out of bed? Her annoyance with her alarm.

33. What does she use more often: her intuition or logical reasoning?

She thinks she is very logical, but if she isn’t careful, her panic response that she built up throughout her childhood masks itself as logic.

34.  Would she rather be alone doing something she enjoy, or doing something she doesn’t like with her best friends?

Definitely doing something she doesn’t like with her best friends

35. What's her biggest regret?

In canon, accepting the duchy. In ICWAM, she comes to be at peace with her life choices through therapy.

Bonus: three random facts about your MC

- She loves New York style bagels, to the point that her social media handles often make some reference to being a “bagel bitch.”

- Her favorite animals are penguins. She can’t explain it.

- She uses a peach body wash, lotion, and body mist from Bath and Body works, even in the canon universe where she could afford nice perfume. Drake likes the way she smells, so she sees no point pretending to have richer tastes than she does.

[bennopolo]

Good morning Goa

I leave the shuttle bus to the airplane for Goa. “Sir, Sir, wait! Here is your wallet and passport.” I humbly thank the Air India steward with all my heart and take another two steps towards the plane, along the beautiful Dubai-Indian woman I met in the shuttle bus. She is clouding my senses.

“Sir, Sir, wait! Here is you iPhone.” “Oh shit, you guys are wonderful! Thank you, thank you so, so, so much.”

I blush and ask myself “Where is my mind?” I look beside me and I know where it is. She smiles at me and says: “Uhh, you have good karma. Things are coming back to you. I like that.” And I like her. Usually, you sit beside a very fat man that naturally blocks one of you arm rests and leaves you with a tilted back position throughout the flight — to make things worse, the fat man is usually  disgustingly nice and and you cannot even be angry at him — This time I get the airplane seat beside the exotic, beautiful, intelligent, and deep woman right in my age. She shoves the free 2nd round of flight beers into my bag, I am at her feet. Unfortunately, destiny separates us abruptly the next day. Without a final word, without a final look in the eyes…but at least India has welcomed me with a big hug and kisses.

“How much was the bicycle?” asks the Goan customs officer. No my friend: you want money, you have to listen to a long story first. — I arrive at 4:30am at the airport of Goa. I have 20 hours of rush behind me: saying goodbyes, arranging my stuff, cycling 25km through Dubai, putting Vega in a box. Unboxing and rearranging everything again at Dubai airport while hearing four times in a row “You cannot fly Sir. Your luggage is too heavy. It is too late.” Topped off by the beautiful flight companion in the shuttle bus. I feel like in a movie (a feeling that will take a couple of days to vanish). As I see myself sleepwalking through the airport I am filled by the peaceful serenity of fatigue. —

“His name Vega, we very good friends. Vega and me cycling for 10.000km. No, I have no receipt for Vega! Why should I carry receipt while cycling 8 months? All way from Germany to Iran. Vega is good bicycle, but Vega is very much used now…” the officer shrugs and lets me continue, realizing that there is no easy money to get from me at this hour…

I step outside the airport, somebody pushes me away from my trolley, pushes it 10m to the taxi counter and then 15m to the taxi. He wants 5$. I give him 1$. He is not happy. I crave to rip the 1$ note out of his hand again. 15min later in the taxi I share the flight beers with the driver and he  offers me all the drugs I could potentially wish for. At least he starts with a cute story: on a glorious Sunday morning a certain Mr. Hofman takes a ride on his bicycle…Good morning Goa.

December 30th I arrive in Goa, new year madness is hitting me like a punch in the face amidst the final throws of the black money crisis. ATM’s spit out no more than 30euros per day, a tiny droplet on the big hot stone of party hunger, especially with prices skyrocketing around new years eve like the bazillions of fire works along the endless beaches of Goa.

The first 72 hours is psi-trans party madness around me; 72 hours UTS-UTS-UTS at no less than 120 BPM, constantly. No sleep till Brooklyn, neither in my tent: the fabric shows an evident lack of sound insulation. But no problem, when the morning sun shoves me out the tent, I just walk 100m down the beach into Fresh, a deluxe open air beach club. A little dip into the sea and let’s celebrate Goa’s freedom and the new year by dancing a Sunday-morning-Berghain dance amongst shiny people that better wear sunglasses at night…

The following days random encounters line up like pearls on a chain. And there is always a cow. I meet a tall boyish Indian of 22 years, a sharp cut face, eyes wide awake. He likes me and invites me for drinks and dinner. He is a businessman from Gujarat and sells t-shirts of his designs to supermarket chains. 20 people work for him. He is self-made; I wonder, charming as he may be, how he got there at this young age.

“It is simple, I got the markets to sign a buying agreement and with that I went to the banks and got the money to hire workers.” His eyes look innocent, they look warm. I am not convinced by the simplicity. He continues with a tricksy smile. “What I sell, hundreds are selling the same thing. There is only ONE REASON why he buys from me: because I am his friend.” His charming smile widens, his eyes shine an open look directly into mine. “From the first moment, I try to be THE BEST FRIEND HE EVER HAD with all I can give. But the only thing I want, is him to sign the contract.” I realise in this moment, I would stand the slightest chance. If he would have wanted me to love him, I would have loved him. I realise in this moment that in India, to be the number one you don’t need elbows. You need to walk over people. India may be the continent of the heart, but many Indians wear the wallet directly on the heart.

“Benno, I am the devil.” Jack speaks out loudly into my face. It is the moment I trust him. He is the owner of the “Cool Place”, the beach shag I planted my tent before. The formerly rasta-party-animal has now a one year old son. At touristic places, it feels good to trust somebody. However nice and shanti touristic places are, they are lanterns for easy-money-moths. And when people come for easy money, they tend to take easy money. So as long as you are in touristic places in India: the things that are dear to you, keep them close. Jack is the first person I fully trust in India — as far as I can throw him. I can trust him 100% that nothing gets stolen from my tent. But I can also trust him 100% that if we go party together, he be a good socialist, my money be our money, and he be a generous person…

After new year madness the Indian tourists leave. Morjim beach becomes a quite beach, it also becomes a Russian beach again. For the first time since Bulgaria I see Cyrillic on the street signs and the menus. And so many stunningly beautiful Russian women, beside not as beautiful Russian men. — I have also met very cool and also good looking Russian guys, and made very good friends among them, don’t get me wrong. But I find that nowhere else in the world you see so many couples of fairy-tale beauties along seemingly brutish (but often very rich) men.

Arambol is probably the most interesting city in Goa’s north. A wonderful crazy hippie energy rules here. Drum circles and a hippie market on the sunset beach. And don’t forget the Hare Krishna guys. I decide to join them, I am in India and why should I take myself serious? I get slowly washed into the centre and I face the leading Hare Krishna preacher. For a brief moment of ecstatic chant, our eyes meet and blank insanity stares at me. I get goose bumps. I wonder how close insanity and genius are. In this moment they seem to me two faces of a coin.

I return to the german guy watching over my bag. He is in Arambol for the Tantra convention. He exchanges a soft touch with a bypassing Tantra heart mate. He wants to win India with love. If you do everything with love everything will be good. He pays the hippie dear for his chakra-oils (the heart-chakra oils are the most expensive ones). You can pay the oil-selling hippie with credit card, right on the beach 15m away from the water. India will take his love and India will take his money. I convince him that it is not possible to drive the Royal Enfield motorbike he has bought without a drivers licence back to Germany. I wonder if the craziest people in Arambol are the ones who don’t take drugs…