#i’d just make sure to inform myself well about the culture

[the-travelling-witch]

I WANNA LEARN JAPPNEESE SO BAD BC I WANNA VISIT JAPAN!!

do it then

[whatdoidosatoru]

First Date (Keisuke Baji x OC) chapter 1

PART 1 of The Only Exception

experimental emo!baji fic (Baji x OC that's just reader but with a name because i'd rather shoot myself than write y/n)

part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - ao3

Both, Baji and OC are into alternative music and I've tried to not describe OC physically so she can be anyone :)

pairing: Keisuke Baji x reader

word count: 7.2k

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

I don't know how to tag but here goes nothing: oral sex (both receiving), fingering, slight dirty talk, face-fucking, penetrative sex, bathroom sex, slight asshole!baji, fem!reader

The met at a night club and turn it into a whole thing, songs to go with the story:

𝆕 Playlist

18 - Anarbor

First Date - blink-182

Bring Me To Life - Evanescence

The River - Good Charlotte

Ocean Avenue - Yellowcard

Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon

DONTTRUSTME - 3OH!3

Cherrypie - Warrant

Rebel Love song - Black Veil Brides

The day of the event finally came. I’d been looking forward to Emo Nite for almost a month now, ever since my best friend called me screaming that the new date had been announced. You’d think being in university with the event manager would help stifle the excitement over it since we could get any information about it whenever we wanted, but it’d been months since the two of us had gone out anywhere. It was the only thing on my mind as I dragged myself through my lectures, 3 pm could not have come any sooner. Finally, as the last lecture of the day came to an end, I started packing up my notes, trying to figure out what I was going to wear. 

My apartment was a short walk away from the university, the club, and our favourite gym, therefore this entire day was made that much easier as I didn’t have to depend on public transportation to get anywhere. 

Just as I opened the front door to my place that I shared with my best friend and roommate, I was attacked by my favourite playlist blasting from her room, the playlist I had made for her to get in the zone for these kinds of parties, all consisting of the music I had got moaned at for listening to in my teens. It very obviously was not a phase, mom. 

“You should put on 3OH!3” I let myself into her room.

“I don’t know what that means!!” She was frantically going through her wardrobe looking for something to wear.

“Give me the phone, trust me,” I said with a wink.

I clicked on the song and noticed some of my own clothes strewn over her bed, evidence that both of us currently had the same issue to decide on. I loved showing her the music I u̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ listen to as she never got to experience peak emo and scene culture in the town where she grew up. 

“What the fuck kind of line is ‘I’m a vegetarian and I ain’t fucking scared of him’”

“Mai, don’t question peak songwriting. It’s iconic.” 

She rolled her eyes, but I knew she was enjoying it. 

It was my turn to cook so I got to work preparing food for both of us before a well-deserved rest. Since I’d never been good at estimating the amount of rice needed for two people, there was now a full pot of leftovers that I promptly put away while cleaning up. 

The music blasting from Mai’s room was making me dance around the kitchen and postponing the tiredness I’d felt ever since opening my eyes in the morning. To take advantage of that burst of energy, I cleaned up all surfaces in the kitchen and dining room, giving Mai a break from her turn for cleaning that day, and moved on to the bathroom, where I made sure everything looked decent enough not to put me into a slump when we wake up the next day. Satisfied with the work, it was time to take a short nap before going to the gym. 

“Maybe this was a mistake, maybe we were too ambitious to plan to go out after the gym.” My friend complained on the way home.

“Well, maybe you should’ve done a low-intensity set like me like I told you! Because I’m feeling great!”

“I’m too old for this shit.”

“You’re 22! I dread to think how you’ll feel when you’re 80.”

She just stuck her tongue out at me in response. 

Both of us felt rejuvenated after a shower and it was high time to start getting dressed and doing our makeup. The playlist was back on and so was the random singing and shouting. I decided on a black blink-182 top, black jeans that are so ripped that I put fishnets on underneath, and an oversized denim jacket over the top.

The guitar pick necklace matched the t-shirt and all that was left was to put a fuck ton of eyeliner on. I went into Mai’s room to check on her and, damn, she looked incredible. She’d fit right in with her shorts, completely ripped black tights, Linkin Park t-shirt, and a plaid shirt wrapped tightly around her waist. I wolf-whistled.

“Not sure I can let you out like that, Mai.”

“Is something wrong with it? Is it too much? Oh no it’s too much isn’t it…”

“Hell no I’m just thinking of the best way to swat people away when they start swarming you.”

She smirked at the comment “You look just like you did in your old photos…just with better hair.”

“Please don’t remind me, I can still smell the hair spray.”

We sat on the floor and started doing our makeup, occasionally changing songs on her speakers and cracking stupid jokes. When we were done it was around 10 pm and Mai insisted on taking photos before leaving. My eyeliner sort of matched her plaid shirt, big black wings with red lines underneath, on my inner corners, and slicing through my eyebrows. On the lips, I opted for black-red ombre lipstick hoping it doesn’t transfer onto my cup of whatever I chose to drink. 

The walk to the club was pleasant as it wasn’t too cold or too hot. With those last breaths of fresh air of the night, we walked in and found our names on the list to be let inside. The space wasn’t very big, but it had only a few open windows so I felt sweat dripping down my back almost as soon as we got to the dance floor. Waving at the DJ and the event manager, we made our way to the bar. Mai started flirting with the bartender and I really had to respect the swiftness with which she got her first free drink of the night.

I grabbed my extortionately priced can of Red Bull and a straw and headed to the floor. There was quite a big crowd of people on one end of the room so we danced our way to the other side. The big reason why I loved going out with Mai is that she left all her shyness at home and sang from the top of her lungs even if her words were wrong. I, on the other hand, had to be broken out of my shell every time. 

After a while, having gotten comfortable with a big crowd of people all around us, I started noticing familiar faces walking in. Some of Mai’s friends from one of her lectures were there and we very quickly joined them in carving out some space for our group on the dancefloor. I could feel the makeup melting and everyone was getting water to freshen up so I decided to venture out to find the nearest toilet. Mai followed me out and kept singing as we walked past a group of guys, one of whom nearly knocked me into the wall.

“Watch it, assholes!” She shouted after them as I was regaining balance.

There was broken glass stuck in the soles of my vans and I could feel it scrape the floor as I walked on. 

“I swear some people don’t understand the concept of personal space, are you okay?” her worrying was adorable.

“Yeah, I just have to pick out the glass from my soles now. He didn’t even apologise, did he?”

“Nah, that’s okay I’ll find him back inside and feed him my fist though, don’t you worry.” I laughed as she pretended to punch the hand dryer. We tried to dab some sweat off of our faces with toilet paper but soon gave up as it would probably build up as soon as we stepped back into the room. Heading back, my favourite song came on and I had to sprint to get back to our group and share my excitement with others. 

“I really fucking love this song!” I shouted into someone’s ear, only to realise it was not one of my people, but the very asshole that pushed me in the hallway minutes before, along with his friends. He looked me up and down and, smirking like I was a child expressing their enjoyment of an animated film, chuckled “Good for you”.

I turned to find Mai, but she had already seen the interaction and followed what happened with raised eyebrows. 

“Was that…”

“Someone that still needs to get punched for being a dick? Yeah that’s the guy.”

“Mai, he’s hot. Why didn’t you tell me he was this hot! I would’ve pushed myself to save him the trouble of doing it himself if he needed me to!”

“I can’t hear half the words you just said and I don’t think I want to. You’re too sexually frustrated for your own good.”

Still I couldn’t stop picturing his face as he looked me up and down. Did he like what he saw? Did he find me cringe? Did he realise I was the person he pushed? I could’ve sworn I caught a glimpse of adorable fangs in his mouth, was he one of those weirdos that wore fake fangs to emo events?

Mai dragged me to the bar to get another drink, but I kept scanning the room to find the asshole vampire guy. With a new can in hand, I went towards the DJ to talk to the event manager. She was a really cool girl I had met waiting for our professor to start the lecture because both of us wore the same band t-shirt. Ever since she started organising these parties, Mai and I have been on the list and stayed until the very end of the party. 

“What’s wrong? You never not sing along to Ocean Avenue,” Hana waved in front of my face. Mai chuckled and told her I was just too horny to function. 

“Who’s the target tonight?” Hana asked with a massive grin.

“That long-haired asshole next to the bar,” Mai pointed towards him and his group of friends, all of them with drinks in their hands and not really dancing or looking like they were there for the music.

They kept talking while I made my way back out of the room to get some air and space to think. When someone stood next to where I was crouching, I assumed it was Mai trying to get me back inside.

“Sorry about pushing you earlier,” a voice that definitely wasn’t Mai’s said.

I looked up and was greeted by a pair of bronze eyes and a serious face framed by long black hair. Leaning on the wall with hands in his pockets, it was Asshole Vampire from before. The one I couldn’t stop looking for in the crowd, now he stood next to me where I could hear him better. I quickly stood up and swayed a little from getting up too fast. 

“I didn’t think you even noticed someone falling and stepping on glass because of you.” My voice was vibrating from screaming along with the music earlier.

“I know it’s not really an excuse, but I tried to get back as soon as possible to hear the song that was playing. I love Black Veil Brides.” He chuckled and looked down.

I looked him over, he was wearing a white button-up shirt that was slightly unbuttoned, black jeans, and black Converse. His hair was long and shiny, falling forward nonchalantly. 

“I will say that just might be a good enough reason, I’ll try to call off the hit I put on you.” I tried sounding casual despite the fact that he was standing so close to me I could feel the warmth of his body.

“That would be great, thanks. You have a good music taste, apparently. Good Charlotte is one of my favourite bands.”

I looked at him and blushed, that meant he definitely knew it was me shouting in his ear earlier.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I thought you were someone I knew.”

He looked amused, “I’m Keisuke. Now I’m also someone you know.”

I shook his hand, trying to secretly admire his beautiful long fingers. “Yuna. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“I’ve never managed to get my friends to come with me before, and I’m not the type to go out to clubs by myself.”

“Well, I hope you get them to come next time as well, I’ve been to every Emo Nite and they’re always amazing. I’m friends with the event manager as well.” Wow shut up, I thought to myself, who gives a shit. 

“They’re not really into the same music, that’s why we’re just standing there like statues. Just observing. Like a bunch of creeps.”

That made me shiver a bit. Was I actually holding a conversation with this guy? If only Mai could see me now…she’d probably run over to punch Keisuke in the face. 

“I get it, luckily, my friend is discovering this music now and likes it, I’ve been into it since I was probably 10.”

“Ahhh, the right age to sing about all the greatest pains in life, back before you even knew what the real world was.” He stared ahead like he knew that pain now.

“Yeah, but it’s been 12 years since then, and it’s still my day-to-day music.”

“You’re 22 then?” He looked back at me, “Are you from around here? We could’ve been in the same year..”

“I moved here for university.” Okay great, he was my age and he had the same music taste. I couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like…

“You know I can see you staring at my lips, right?” He grinned, obviously very pleased with himself having caught me staring.

“Hm? Oh…yeah. You’re insanely gorgeous, sorry,” I cringed at myself. What the fuck is wrong with me? May as well go get Mai and head home, there is no way I could enjoy my night after this. A soft chuckle escaped his mouth “Likewise, I didn’t get a very good look at you inside, but now that I can see you properly, I’m really glad I came out to check on you.”

Wait, what? “Check on me?”

“It seemed like you were unwell, and when you headed out I wanted to make sure you didn’t collapse or something,” he shrugged. My heart started pounding, he was looking at me inside? He worried about me? He wanted to help me? Woah. 

“That’s very kind, coming from the guy who almost flattened me with the wall.”

He threw his head back and laughed, “Are you going to hold that against me forever?”

“Maybe,” I smiled at him, “unless you make it up to me.”

He turned to face me completely.

“Well, how about we head back inside to enjoy some music together, and you think of a way for me to me it up to you?”

I took in his gorgeous jawline and the canines peeking through his lips.

“Lead the way, Keisuke.”

We went back inside, I immediately started scanning the crowd for Mai or Hana. They waved me over to them and I grabbed Keisuke’s hand to lead him to them. Mai’s eyes went wide and I knew we were going to have to talk about this later.

“Keisuke, this is Mai, my best friend, and that’s Hana, she organised this event,” I shouted into his ear, inhaling the scent of his hair.

Mai looked him up and down and Hana shook his hand. I was pleading with Mai with my eyes not to beat the shit out of him right then and there, signalling that I didn’t want him dead.

“I’m going to stay over at Hana’s tonight, if that’s okay with you, Yuna.” Hana turned to her with questions in her eyes, but Mai pinched her arm and smiled at her. 

Was she trying to give me some kind of a signal? Keisuke looked between us, all I could do was just nod and go dance. It seemed too convenient that the next song that was playing was a slow one. Keisuke grabbed my hand, “I assume you want to dance to blink-182,” he nodded at my t-shirt and necklace. 

I couldn’t believe it. We’d been dancing for several songs now, surprisingly, he’s actually got rhythm. Mai decided to stay with Hana and not come back for me, which normally never happens. It was always the two of us against everyone in the room. Maybe she saw the tension between Keisuke and me - wait…was there tension between Keisuke and me? He was looking down at me and smiling most of the time, save for when he was belting out to the music. Especially when both of us were singing the wrong lyrics to Fall Out Boy. After a while, he dragged me to the hallway to speak to me.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He looked at me intensely. It took me a few seconds to catch on.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Do you live nearby?”

This wasn’t weird, right? To the rational part of my brain, it sounded like a bad idea, but I’d been imagining what his lips would feel like on my neck for a good part of the night. 

“Yeah, walking distance,” As soon as I said that he leaned down and caught my lips with his. I reached for his neck and brought him closer, deepening the kiss. His lips were soft and I could smell his shampoo as his hair fell to tickle my face. There was a low vibration in the back of his throat. When he broke the kiss he looked into my eyes like he was trying to read them. I could get lost just staring at his face. He smiled and took my hand, “Lead the way, Yuna.”

I fumbled around my pockets trying to text Mai while he let his friends know he wasn’t going home with them. It seemed like a fortunate coincidence that Mai was staying over at Hana’s tonight.

Yunaaaaasty, 01:28

i’m going home with vampire guy, am i making the biggest mistake of my life?

Mai Darling, 01:29

thought so :) why did you think i made Hana let me stay over?

Yunaaaaasty, 01:29

you’re a mastermind and i owe you for this

Mai Darling, 01:30

oh yes you do but honestly it’s not as fun singing i’m not okay without you <3333

just let me know if you’re dead or alive in the morning so i can alert the police kbye have fun ;)

I looked up as Keisuke reached for my hand, his grip was so warm it immediately made my heart jump. I could feel warmth pooling in my stomach in anticipation of what might happen in just a few short minutes. Keisuke kept asking me questions about my life on our way there, though I wasn’t exactly sure why he was so curious if this was to be only a one-time thing. Maybe he was trying to determine if I was a psycho killer of some sort…or maybe he was? Oh well, he was so gorgeous I wouldn’t mind dying if it meant having some fun with him beforehand. 

We walked up the stairs and he started kissing behind my ear. My skin felt tight in anticipation of his touch and I felt myself shiver as his kisses trailed down to my neck.

“You’re distracting me, I’m trying to get us inside at least,” I chuckled at him.

“How long does it normally take you to unlock your front door?”

“Hey it’s difficult finding the key in this mess of keychains, now I have you making me thinking about uhhh…other things as well.”

He moved to my lips and nipped at my bottom lip. “Oh and what is it that I’m making you think about?” There is no way I was saying that out loud outside my apartment, so I just pushed the door open and dragged him inside after me.

~

I started taking my denim jacket off all the while not breaking the kiss and leading him to my bedroom. I shut the door and clumsily shook off my Vans, starting to unbutton his shirt. He looked at me with hungry eyes, his hands travelling along my hips and up to my breasts. Luckily, the fairy lights around my bed frame were left on so I could see his eyes as he was drinking in the lust in my eyes. When he shrugged off his shirt, he started unbuttoning my jeans and pushed me toward my desk, still messy with my coursework and at least four dictionaries and other heavy tomes. I broke the kiss to put the books away when he chuckled, “Damn, I was kind of hoping to knock it over in the heat of the moment and eat you out on top of the desk,” As hot as that would’ve been, this was the product of a month of research and hard work and it deserved to be put away safely.

“If I hadn’t spent all my sanity working on this paper I would say yes.”

“Can I still eat you out at least?” I felt my knees threatening to give out, why was his saying that so damn hot? 

“Please,” I moaned into his mouth and started to peel my fishnets off when he grabbed my hands to stop me.

“Keep them on,” his breathy voice rolled into my ear, “but how attached are you to those panties?”

This confused me, but he already grabbed the fabric of my underwear and started ripping them on the side and casting them away. He lifted me up and put me on top of my desk, now trailing his mouth down my torso to where my panties were a few seconds ago. His large hands ripped the crotch of my tights and started putting his hair up into a ponytail. I hadn’t noticed the hair tie that had been around his wrist until he took it off and held it with his teeth.

My head spun when he lowered his lips to my heat and started to lick long strokes between the folds. Leaning back on my hands, I let out a breathy moan that made him chuckle into me and start sucking on my clit.

“Oh my..Keisuke yes,” I couldn’t keep it in anymore, his tongue swirled all around the most sensitive area and when I looked down at his face his eyes were set on me, as if he needed to make sure I was coming undone. As if my moans and hitched breaths weren’t enough of a sign, he needed to see it with his own eyes. 

My hand went to the base of his ponytail to bring him closer to me, as I did so it felt like he dug in with an even stronger intensity than before. I was nearing my peak when he inserted a finger inside me. I could feel his lips spreading into a smile when he saw my reaction like he was saving that move until the end.

“Let go, Yuna. If you cum on my tongue now I’ll let you ride me.” That was all that was needed to push me over the edge and make me shake with pleasure while his hand held me down on the desk. 

He got up and pulled my t-shirt off, slowly unbuckling my bra and adding it to the pile of clothes on the floor. Keisuke let his hair back down and started pulling my hair into a ponytail, tying it with his hair tie. I pushed him onto my bed and crawled up to his crotch, pulling his jeans down as he pushed his Converse off his feet.

When I pulled down his boxers I was met with his hard cock slapping his abdomen and, looking up into his eyes, gave the head an experimental lick. His eyelashes fluttered and he closed his eyes so I took it as a sign to continue. 

Keisuke let out the sweetest moan when I took as much of his length as I could into my mouth, one hand on his shaft, the other on the balls. With long, circular motions, my tongue slid all over his cock, licking off any drops of precum it dripped.

His balls were in my hand, softly being massaged, causing him to huff and moan softly. His hand reached for my hair and grabbed it to lead me how he wanted me. He held me in place as his hips thrust up. As his thrusts got more and more frantic, my throat had had enough, so I released his balls from my hand and grabbed the hand that was holding my ponytail signalling I needed a break.

He released me and dragged me up to his face to kiss me, but I had to get things moving to get him inside of me as soon as possible. 

Leaning over to my bedside table, I pushed aside my phone and Polaroid camera, grabbed a condom from the drawer, and turned on some music, “Alexa, play Oh My Word It’s Happening playlist.” When the first song started playing, he let out a laugh,

“Really, First Date?” 

“Hey, I want to make this night last forever, okay?”

I handed him the condom and straddled his abdomen, leaning in to kiss him deeply. Keisuke’s hair was spread over the pillow like a dark halo, framing his beautiful face, I almost forgot how to breathe. His hands were trailing along my thighs, still covered with fishnet tights, as I positioned myself above his hard cock, slowly lowering myself down, his eyes rolling back and filthy moans escaping his soft lips.

When I sunk fully onto his cock, I couldn’t help myself but let out a high-pitched moan which seemed to wake him from the bliss he was in. He grabbed my hips and helped me bounce myself on him. The thickness that spread my walls made me feel full, and each thrust scratched an impossible itch inside me. When Keisuke started grunting with each thrust I knew he was nearing his peak. I reached to rub my clit with one hand, but he swiftly knocked it aside and replaced it with his own. I threw my head back in pure pleasure and let out all the pent-up pressure from my throat as I came all over his dick, he followed soon after with an animalistic moan and stopped thrusting. 

He looked spent and let go of my hips, I needed to burn the image of him lying underneath me into the insides of my eyelids. I reached over to grab my camera,

“Do you mind if I take one of you?” I motioned with the camera. He gave me a small smile,

“Is this some kind of a psycho killer trophy you’re collecting?”I couldn’t help but laugh,

“Maybe, but I want to remember this.” He nodded with a blissful smile, so I looked through a viewfinder and pushed the button. Putting the camera aside, I got off of him and lay next to him, gently taking the condom off and launching it into the bin.

~

“I feel obligated to mention that I’ve never done this before,” He raised his eyebrow at my comment, causing me to correct myself, “I mean, I’ve never brought someone home like this, especially after just meeting them.” He was tracing shapes on my stomach, all the while staring into my eyes.

“Me neither,” he admitted, “I’m still not convinced you’re not some psycho killer taking advantage of young men, taking salacious photos of them, and then disposing of their corpses in the nearby bushes.” I just had to laugh at the notion,

“You seem to have put a lot of thought into this scenario, are you sure you’re not the murderer?” He leaned over to place a kiss on my shoulder,

“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Looking over at him, I took in his loose hair, now messy and half-resting on my pillows.

“Honestly, after this, I think I would gladly let you kill me. I don’t remember the last time I felt this good.” When Keisuke pulled me closer to him, resting his hand on my hip, I swear I could have floated away.

After some conversation that sounded way too casual considering the way we had just made each other feel, I heard Keisuke’s stomach rumble so I offered to get him some food and dragged him out of bed and into the kitchen. He managed to put his boxers back on while I put on my pyjama top and we made way to investigate the food situation. 

“I’ve got some leftovers from today, I mean, I guess it’s technically yesterday now.” I pulled out the tub with leftover fried rice and chicken and stuck it into the microwave while he inspected the fridge door that was littered with polaroids of Mai and me, some from our work with other coworkers, some of us cuddling her cats from back home, some of our birthday and end-of-exams parties, and others of my old dance group from different competitions we attended.

“You have cats?” He seemed really interested in all individual photos.

“Ah, no, those are Mai’s parents’ cats. They live in the middle of nowhere and have a bunch of animals, unfortunately, we couldn’t get any of her pets here when we moved in,” I pointed at another photo of me with a big black labrador sitting on the beach, “That’s my dog, but he lives with my parents, as I’m too busy to take care of a dog right now.” He nodded and looked over a few more photos before stepping towards me and pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 

At that moment the microwave beeped and I went to grab the food and plate it up. We ate standing in the kitchen, neither of us feeling inclined to move away from each other. Keisuke was stuffing his face like he hadn't eaten in days,

“I think you need to slow down,” I said with a smirk.

“This is amazing, I can’t stop,” he said with his mouth full.

When he was done, he started to put the plates into the dishwasher and I offered him something to drink. With him in the kitchen, I made my way to the bathroom to wipe my makeup off, noticing the lipstick hadn’t transferred at all. Keisuke appeared behind me when I had taken off most of the makeup and started touching my ass. Luckily I didn’t put any underwear on, remembering how he ripped the pair I wore earlier. I looked at him through the mirror and smiled at his gentle caresses. He seemed entranced by my skin and started making his way towards my bare heat. Gently rubbing my sensitive lips, he elicited soft moans from my lips. Our eyes met in the mirror and he returned my smile,

“You’re so beautiful, did you know that? I loved seeing you with  the makeup, but this,” he reached for my cheek with his hand, the other one still rubbing my pussy, “is incredible.” 

He grabbed my face and kissed it, making me moan into his mouth which made him change his approach and sink a finger inside of me. He groaned when my walls sucked his finger in, adding another and hooking them to hit the most sensitive spot inside. My legs started shaking with pleasure, which seemed to amuse him enough to giggle and move to stand right behind me, spreading my legs.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” Keisuke whispered, “but you’re making me feel feral, like no amount of touching you will ever be enough,” his voice was making me wet with desire.

“Feral? We can do it like they do it on the Discovery channel then,” I invited him for another round. I opened one of the drawers under the sink and passed him a condom, causing him to chuckle,

“Very convenient.” 

“We like to be prepared,” he aligned his once again hard cock with my entrance and pushed in, throwing his head back in pleasure, my back arching to get a better angle, still holding the edges of the sink. He pushed into me until I couldn’t take any more and gasped loudly. He stopped and started pulling out and pushing back in, only up to the point I could handle. This angle made hitting the sensitive spot so much easier, it made me gasp and whine with every single one of his thrusts. His hands were squeezing my ass like it was the only thing keeping him grounded on this Earth. His cock was buried deep inside of me, hitting my most sensitive areas, pulling me apart from the inside.

I threw my head back and Keisuke took the opportunity to grab my jaw and pull me towards his face. He was grunting into my ear and kissing my neck, I was certain I wouldn’t last much longer. 

With his teeth, he scraped along my neck. With a cry, I creamed on his cock, which only seemed to make him go faster and harder. “Good girl, hold on tight,” he whispered into my ear, letting go of my jaw and instead holding the base of my ponytail as I held onto the wall in front of me for dear life. One of his hands snaked around me and found my clit, rubbing it in circular motions, sending me into another orgasm, this one louder than the last.

Never breaking pace, he chuckled and smacked my ass three times before returning both his hands on my ass, pulling me into his hips repeatedly.

“Faster Keisuke, please!” I cried out, and he obliged. Soon after that I felt another wave of pleasure threatening to swallow me whole. Just as I started crying out his name again, he moaned into my hair and finished, slowing his thrust leading us both through our orgasms. Once he stopped, our eyes locked in the mirror once more, I didn’t know if I had it in me to smile at him. His cock slid out of me and he took off the condom and threw it away, spinning me around to kiss me with all the energy he had left. I had half a mind to thank him, but I couldn’t form words anymore, I just grabbed his hand and led him back into my bedroom, cuddling into him on the bed. 

~

“Yuna?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Turning around to face him, I caressed his face, taking in his loose hair, soft eyes, slightly protruding canines, and soft lips. I wanted to look at him forever, there’s something arresting about his face making me incapable of looking away. 

“Why do you ask?” Was he overthinking this whole night? Is he trying to make me start kicking him out so he doesn’t have to make the first move?

“You haven’t said a word since…since we fucked in the bathroom.” His tone was that of worry. 

“I think… you may have taken every ounce of energy that I had saved for conversation,” I said with a giggle, “I came twice before that, and then three times in the bathroom. A girl needs to breathe and rest.”

His smile returned, lighting his face up, I just had to close the distance between us and kiss him softly. 

“How are you feeling?” I wondered, gently caressing his arm.

“Completely empty. I feel like all my worries and stress just,” he made a floating gesture with his hand, “disappeared.” 

“I think we both deserve some sleep, don’t you agree?”

He looked into my eyes as if to read them again, then rolled me over, pressed me into his form, and softly whispered good night.

I grabbed my phone only to be met with a few messages from Mai:

Mai Darling, 2:30

hope you’re not dead because Hana said there’s another party in 2 weeks and she’ll kill us if we don’t come

Mai Darling, 3:15

ok you’re either dead and i have to clean up the apartment of your blood or you’re still fucking and i hope to everything holy it’s the latter and i don’t have to get the blood out of the carpet

Mai Darling, 4:45

i’m gonna choose to believe you’re so fucked out you can’t even pick up your phone. get it girl. Message me when you can though

Yunaaaaasty, 5:20

alive but barely. came five times. hurts my brain to think we have work today. see you soon.

Mai Darling, 5:21

YESSSSSSSS i knew that little bastard had it in him…or more accurately he had it in you! ;)

i’m home around 9, prepare the report and i’m making us some coffee for that piping hot tea

What a weirdo. My eyelids closed to the soft sound of Keisuke’s light snores. 

~

With a start, my eyelids flew open to quickly switch off the alarm before it woke up Keisuke. With a groan, he flipped over to his back, hand reaching over to try and locate his phone. He sat up to rummage through the pile of clothes we left on the floor to fish it out of his pocket. 

“Ah, shit. I have work in a few hours,” he looked over at me and smiled, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t stay a tiny bit longer. That is, if you want me here?” His eyes were full of hope.

I pulled him towards me and caught him in a kiss, his hand started wandering underneath the sheets, grabbing my boobs, hips, thighs, pulling me closer. Every time he squeezed me a moan escaped my mouth into his, which seemed to make him more eager each time.

His hands travelled down to my pussy and started to softly spread my folds, ghosting over my clit with each move. In an attempt to get more friction, I started to roll my hips on his hand, desperately trying to unravel the bundle of tension already forming in my belly. He smirked and probed my entrance with a finger, catching the gasp coming out of my mouth with his own. 

I was already reaching back into the drawer to fish out another condom, expecting another round, when his mouth left mine to trail kisses and nibbles down my neck to my collarbone while his other hand was holding my neck. Am I getting into this? His hands are so pretty that I kind of want them around my neck for a little longer. 

“How are you so amazing at this?” I squeezed out between moans. He chuckled, “It’s a curse.”

“Then please curse me again.”

His head snapped up and we locked eyes. Grabbing the condom from my hand he got in my face, “Only because you asked me nicely, gorgeous.”

This time his thrusts were slower, towering over me, leaning on his elbows, his hair fell into my face, smelling of his shampoo and my perfume mixed together. Citrusy and sweet. I hoped the pillow he had slept on kept the scent a little bit longer. His eyes were focused on my face, following every hitched breath as he hit my sensitive spot with every move.

My insides squeezed his length with the desire to keep him inside a bit longer, the slow and lazy motions we were going through seemed very fitting with the chilly morning air coming in through the open window. As fast and rough as last night’s sex was, this morning’s sex was gentle, careful, and deliberate. My hands were firmly planted on his back, nails scratching slowly. I was soon brought to my peak again, this time it wasn’t sudden and needy, but slow and sure. 

“Keisuke I’m close,” I moaned right into his ear, which seemed to set off something in him as his pupils dilated and his movements became needier. Like he’ll drop through the ground into the centre of the Earth if he doesn’t chase our orgasms. 

“Say it again,” he squeezed out through his moans.

“Keisuke! I’m so close, keep it going please!”

“More,” his voice was desperate, his eyes were squeezed shut with concentration.

“Please I need you, Keisuke! You feel so good, you’re making me cum!”

With a cry, we finished in sync and he dropped on top of me, barely breathing just like me. He pulled out slowly and discarded the condom, pushing his hair back from his face. 

“How many times was that?” 

“This was my sixth, but it felt more intense than the ones before.”

The look on his face was that of beaming pride and bliss. “Not bad for one night,” he said with a wink, “but I’m afraid I have to get going if I want to at least shower before work.”

“Where do you work?” Considering how much we talked throughout the night, I didn’t get this important piece of information. Sure, now I knew what his life goals were, how old he was when he broke his first tooth, and how many bikes he had crashed in his childhood, but somehow his place of employment hadn’t popped up.

“Pet zone. The one next to the main square.” He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving me in awe of his lean body and toned arms. He started putting his clothes back on, so I got up to find a new pair of underwear and an oversized T-shirt. 

Now that we were both dressed, we met in the middle of the room with another deep kiss, this time he pulled me into a hug. Huh, we had fucked 3 times and I fed him, but we just hugged for the first time. I could’ve just melted in his arms, but the sound of the front door unlocking made me step away and see him to the door. 

Mai walked in with a big smile on her face and a bag of groceries.

“Good morning sleepyhead, time to start on breakfast!” She said with too much energy for both of us. 

“Actually, I have to get going or I won’t make it to work,” with a quick kiss to my lips, he started for the door.

Mai turned to him as if wondering what he was still doing there.

“Okay, great seeing you, Kazuki,” she said with a smile.

“Likewise, Mirei.”

She frowned slightly, “It’s Mai.”

He smirked, “It’s Keisuke.” He winked at me and closed the door behind him.

Mai turned to me with a grin, “I like him, he can take a joke. Right,” she clapped her hands, marching into the kitchen, “I’m making coffee, you’re getting ready to spill everything. Apart from the coffee, of course.”

With sleep still in my eyes, I made for my bedroom to put the books and papers back onto the desk and let some more air in, since the whole room smelled of sex. As I raked through my hair, I realised his hair tie was still in my hair, I wondered if he left it with me on purpose.

[cozzzynook]

Can we have more of when the team found out about murderbot bee? I'm very interested!

-ratchet wanted to do a full diagnostics scan on him to make sure he was okay but bee refused because he knew what that meant. It was when he was asleep did ratchet do a full scan and found bee’s frame was covered by the one they see now. Bee is pretty pissed when he finds out but Ratchet smiling throws him off guard. It’s when Ratchet shows he’s been working non-stop to remove the current frame so bee can have his original back.

-leaking lots of leaking on Bee’s part but he hides in his room when he does because he doesn’t want anyone to see him leak.

-surprisingly its prowl who goes in to comfort him. He’s not really afraid of bee being a murderbot since he’s run in with them before. Not to mention him & bee having a steadily growing connection and bond. Bee was annoyed at first but a hug from prowl was like candy to a kid for him and bee ended up spilling he could get his original frame back.

- out of the group it’s surprisingly optimus who is the most weary about bee. The moment he sees him in his original frame, more black than yellow, sleek frame with claws and sharp fangs not to mention door wings showing he was a hybrid murder bot and no autobot insignia. Optimus was on edge.

- bulkhead still saw bee as his little buddy. He gave him a big teddy bear hug and was the first to tell bee he had pretty optics. His original optics are orange and they really are very pretty. They’re still big and have an innocent look to them especially when bulkhead pats his head careful of his sensitive floating antennas. Ratchet even gave him a hug which bumblebee returned immediately.

- its prowl who helps bee get used to his frame again. None of them are educated on wing culture so they don’t know bee is pretty nervous by how his door wings stay low. Eventually prowl figures it out and in true familial bond fashion takes bee out to the forest to talk.

- bee still doesn’t want to share that part of himself or the reason why he still hasn’t gotten the autobot symbol put on his chassis. Prowl doesn’t push but lets him open up about how he can sense optimus being weary even frightened by him. He thought it would be ratchet who would be prejudice of him not optimus.

- Prowl doesn’t take well to that information not one bit.

-optimus gets a very frightening wake up call the next cycle when its prowl hovering above Optimus as he lays in berth and covers his intake while holding a shuriken to his neck cable.

- “either you work out your fears towards bee being a murder bot or i do it for you. I trust you’ll make the right decision?”

-Optimus after a long days thinking and still remembering how frightening prowl looked hovering over his berth many many hours ago, he sits and talks with bee.

-“ i- i’m sorry bee. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just-never expected you to be a murderbot or a hybrid. I can tell by your claws and door wings. I didn’t mean to look at you any differently i just couldn’t stop myself. I was wrong to treat you different. If you can forgive me i’d love to go sparring with you.”

- a dazzling smile of innocence and door wings fluttering before resting facing out, bee forgives him even hugs him. Optimus really was trying when he said he’d love to spar with him. No one except decepticons would trust sparring with a murderbot so he really appreciated Optimus saying that.

-later that night when Optimus was half in recharge Prowl crept down from the ceiling and nodded at him smiling before leaving to go check up on bee.

- optimus had a new fear and it wasn’t bee. It was cyberninjas. Terrifying, silent, calm overprotective cyberninjas.

-“ you know you didn’t have to threaten him.”

“Someone needed to get his helmet out of his aft.”

“You’re a really good older familial.”

“Heh, I know.”

- protective younger familial bee on the battlefield when they face the cons for the first time since he went back to his original frame. Prowl got hurt by Lugnut smashing his arm in and Bee locked his sights on Lugnut only. His face shield came down and his optics burned orange just like his arm canon. His arms were small but his canon packed a punch.

- surprise from the team. Pure shock and surprise as Bee went pede to optic with Lugnut. Literally. Bee smashed his optic in and tried to claw off his servo in retaliation for hurting his familial. He was halfway through the war plating till Blitzwing grabbed him and his hot head face plate declared his spark for him.

- that knocked out all the fight in everyone, bee included.

- blitzwing was serious he was literally offering his spark to bee and bee alone.

-prowl was not having that.

- a shuriken to the optic and blitz is only half aware of bee being snatched from his servos before the autobots disappear.

- prowl getting patched up by Ratchet who keeps making jokes about prowl being an overprotective big familial.

- bee telling prowl not to worry but prowl sees the blush on his cheeks and no. Bee you can’t not him. Anyone but him.

-“jazz & lockdown are courting you. Don’t even start.”

“Thats different!”

“No way he’s a bounty hunter!”

“I can beat him!”

“Yeah cause he’s too busy being charged to actually think!” “Don’t deny i’ve seen it!”

-prowl trying to pull the “you’re too young to court,” servo and Bee just “i’m 10,000 years old i can court who i want.”

- prowl wants him to wait until he’s 1 million. Its ratchet who breaks up the argument by just telling them to go to bed in separate berths until they can settle this like grown mechs. That snaps them out of it.

- familial’s always sleep in the same berth no matter how many bots in their family. Ratchet knew this. He gave himself a pat on the back watching the two talk things out like grown mechs instead of sparklings.

- bulkhead trusts bee to make his own decisions but backs prowl up in threatening blitzwing.

- just bee assuring them if blitz tries to hurt him he’ll slit his neck cables before he even knows its coming.

- blitzwing falls more in spark and the autobots are both happy bee is safe but disturbed at how casual he said it.

- just bee being very comfortable with offling and blitz offering his spark again that same cycle.

Hope you like this, sorry i took so long to respond

[tamelee]

Hey so I had a question and am wondering if you want to answer it because for a sns shipper you’re tolerable not to be mean. Yep I don’t ship sns I like nh together so if you wanna ignore this then that’s fine I don’t really care but what sns shippers always forget is that interpretation is the only thing that matters. I like nh so what? I think they were built well and make sense but that’s not going to make me not a shipper. You guys come up with all these theories that don’t make sense and I don’t like sns and that is my interpretation and that doesn’t make anyone wrong because you have no say in how I should think and feel. So this literally debunks y’all sorry. I still really like your art and some meta if it’s not about sns. Cheers.

Hi, glad to know that I’m tolerable lol. Very interesting. 

It seems like you anticipated the possibility of being ignored because we have opposing views on the matter which you’re already aware of, but I wouldn’t ignore you simply because you ‘ship’ something other than me. (Though I’d rather just call myself a fan in the context of SNS.) In fact, you’re always free to challenge anything you want, it’s fun for me and perhaps even informative for us both. 

Anyway- 

You say; 

Interpretation is all that matters

You interpret NH to make sense and well built(/developed) 

Your interpretation is right because it’s how you think and feel

You conclude; 

Because interpretation is all that matters, your interpretation debunks us all (I guess you mean SNS-fans and the theories that support them)

Ngl, that’s an extremely weak argument (if you can even call it that) 😬 but let’s talk about ‘interpretation’.

Interpretation by nature is subjective. 

It’s important for sure, it matters in the sense that your personal perspective helps you determine whether you like/dislike something because your preferences would have no foundation otherwise. 

It’s impossible for an interpretation to be ‘wrong’ in a general sense because it’s something that happens naturally when you engage with any creative expression. You observe something, your brain frames the thing, then you attach personal meaning behind it and of course it’s okay to experience anything however you do, because that’s a natural response and different for everyone. 

So, in regard to your criticism, I don’t think anyone meant how you think/feel about an experience is ‘wrong’ or makes your interpretation ‘wrong’. 

But, using this as a reason to ‘debunk’ us all, makes your logic a fallacy. In other words, I disagree with you. Interpretation is certainly not the only thing that matters here. 

Interpretation can change in different cultural contexts, it may require references from other work and sometimes it is so ambiguous to the point where it is even necessary for a reader to draw a conclusion themselves based on the context when it’s not literally ‘there’. A lot of subtext provides the opportunity to delve deeper to see whether your initial interpretation is supported by the narrative or not. 

The whole purpose of interpretation in a literary analysis (because that’s what’s important here) is to explain the interpretation and make sense out of the meaning to then determine whether it is valid in the context of a narrative. 

In the sense of literary interpretation, there are ways to prove whether an interpretation is correct or not. It is a misinterpretation when you misconstrue the meaning (or any other of the endless elements) behind a story. And thus, theories are made to question and challenge an interpretation/claim/argument etc- which is what SNS fans imo do really well generally. 

And that’s why ‘interpretation’ by itself isn’t the only thing that matters when analyzing because it doesn’t prove anything, and 'the thing' doesn't care about your damn feelings nor is it ever really relevant when analyzing. Claiming your framing does prove it all is such a disrespectful way of looking at the literary work. The nature and meaning behind Naruto and Sasuke’s bond requires (and deserves) further analysis and taking a deep dive towards Kishimoto’s intentions, especially after such a random ending and a horrible, misaligned sequel. There are well-supported arguments which rely on evidence based on a (,or THE one and only~) primary source. (The Manga.) Every ‘meta’ is a case-by-case matter of course and I don’t always agree with them either, but analyzing does require a lot of critical thinking and I have admiration for the people who do so/can. 

You can strengthen your argument by analyzing how your interpretation debunks SNS-theories and, in the context of the story, (the primary source) why NH is developed well and makes sense. Though I get the shortcut, it seems completely impossible to do and too much of a task, but feel free to try anyway :)! 

[cursed-elo-images]

INCORRECT ELO QUOTES PART 4

This version contains three quotes featuring Mr. Blue Sky and Mr. Night because I have no idea what I’m doing with my life anymore!!!

p.s.: I should make it clear that these incorrect quote posts are not going to contain an equal amount of quotes as I cannot count that many of them as it’s too time consuming, but I do try to have a good amount of them in a post and that each post has roughly a similar amount of them.

*Melvyn sends more than 5 messages in a row*

Jeff: I ain’t reading all that.

Jeff: I’m happy for you tho.

Jeff: Or sorry that happened.

Jeff: So Mel, how did your first time cooking dinner go?

Melvyn: Pretty good if I do say so myself.

Jeff: Oo! Okay, what are we having?

Melvyn: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato.

Jeff: A whole potato?

Melvyn: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches!

Jeff: These just look like big slabs of black.

Melvyn: Because that's what they are!

Melvyn: And then for dessert, we have chocolate.

Jeff: These are just chocolate chips?

Melvyn: They sure are!

Melvyn: And then for drinks, we have toast!

Melvyn: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetit!

Jeff: Bev...

Bev: Oh no, 'Bev' in B flat.

Bev: You're disappointed.

Bev: Jeff, what are you doing?

Jeff: *shaking a cat shaped piggy bank* I’m just trying to figure out how much change I have inside.

Bev: You could always take it out and count it.

Jeff: Where’s the fun in that?

Bev: If there are no questions, we’ll move on to the next chapter.

Jeff: I have a question.

Bev: Certainly, Jeff. What is it?

Jeff: What’s the point of human existence?

Bev: I meant any questions about the subject at hand.

Jeff: Oh.

Jeff: Frankly, I’d like to have the issue resolved before I expend any more energy on this.

Hugh: Uptown Funk would've made it into the Shrek Soundtrack.

Bev: That's the truest statement I've ever heard.

Jeff, on the phone: I better go…kay, call me later… byeeee!

Bev: Friend of Yours?

Jeff: Nope, wrong number.

Bev: ???

Bev: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Jeff periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’

Bev: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.

Jeff: Hugh, I need some advice.

Hugh: You need advice from ME?

Jeff: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

Bev: Two wrongs don’t make a right.

Hugh: *sighs* That’s true…

Hugh: But two negatives make a positive!!!

Jeff: I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly.

Bev: Why not?

Jeff: Because I don't know what they mean.

Bev: I made tea.

Jeff: I don't want tea.

Bev: I didn't make you tea. This is my tea.

Jeff: Then why did you tell me?

Bev: It's a conversation starter.

Jeff: It's a horrible conversation starter.

Bev: Oh, is it? We're conversing. Checkmate.

Jeff: Hugh, no.

Hugh: Hugh, yes.

Mr. Blue Sky, Hugh & Jeff: *screaming*

Mr. Night: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Jeff?!

Mr. Blue Sky: Wait, why are you asking Jeff that when Hugh and I are also here?

Mr. Night: Because Jeff wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

Mr. Blue Sky: Shh, here comes Mr Night!

Jeff: Quick, Hugh, start talking about boring nerd stuff!

Hugh: You know, nerd culture is mainstream now, so when you use the word “nerd” derogatorily, it means you’re the one that’s out of the zeitgeist.

Jeff: Yes, that’s perfect. Just like that.

Hugh: Where is Mr. Night?

Jeff: I'll do you one better, who is Mr. Night??

Mr. Blue Sky: Here's a better question, why is Mr. Night?

Bev: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away.

Richard: What makes you say that?

Bev: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it?

Richard: Bev... You don't have a clue about this thing, do you?

Bev: *screams in anger*

Richard: What's that?

Bev: Chocolate.

Richard: What's chocolate?

Bev: Candy. Do they not have candy where you're from?

Richard: Yeah. Grapes, nuts.

Bev: No wonder you're so bitter.

Bev: Richard is not a morning person. Or a night person. There’s really only about seven minutes a day you are fun to be around.

Richard : The best part is you never know when I’m coming.

Richard: Well Bev, I have to say, I'm really disappointed.

Bev: Well, you didn't HAVE to say it. You could've just thought it.

Richard, to Bev: Well, one of us has to be wrong and it’s not going to be me.

Bev: Are you busy?

Richard: Yes.

Bev: Cool, listen to this...

Bev: Just so everyone knows, don't ever try to climb a tree at night carrying a strobe light, owls DON'T like it.

Richard: ...what happened?

Bev: I made a VERY bad mistake.

Bev: *walks to cabinet, removes oreo box, takes half a sleeve, throws empty box out* Hi!

Richard: Hey- what are you doing-?

Bev, shoving an oreo into his mouth: I am saving space :D

Bev: Oh, hey, I didn’t see you come in! You should have come by and said hello!

Richard: Oh! Yeah, I uh...

Richard: Didn’t want to bother you.

Richard: Or talk to or listen to or be around you.

Bev: Man, it smells like wrongdog out here.

Richard:

Richard: Bev, are you alright?

Bev: *sobs*

Richard: Can we talk? One 10 to another?

Bev: I’m an 11, but continue.

Richard: Where did you get that tomato soup?

Bev: It’s actually a bowl of ketchup I just microwaved.

Richard, answering the phone: Hello?

Bev: It’s Bev.

Richard: What did he do this time?

Bev: No, it’s me, Bev. It’s actually me.

Richard: What did you do this time?

Richard: You believe me?

Bev: Richard, you’re the last good person on this planet. I‘d believe cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

Bev: Any tips on how to make someone like me?

Richard: Try to make them laugh all the time.

Bev: Oh, wow! You actually help me for once, and it's even good advice!

Richard: Yeah, the more they laugh, the more time they spend with their eyes closed, so it'd be easier.

Bev: I literally cannot believe I let you talk me into this.

Richard: I literally said “I have an idea,” and you just went along with it without question.

Bev: Who's in charge here?

Richard, shrugging: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

Richard: Whatever happened to the concept of less is more?

Bev: But if less is more, then just think of how much more 'more' will be!

Bev: Come to think of it… You’ve always been nice to me.

Bev: I mean, you listen to all my problems-

Richard: No, Bev I just simply stand here while you talk, there’s a big difference.

Bev: I made this friendship bracelet for you.

Richard: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

Bev: You don’t have to wear…

Richard: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

Bev: This is getting embarrassing.

Richard: Getting? We’re already there!

Bev: So uh, for this party and everything, do you, uh...

Richard, sighing: You don't know how to dress for this, do you?

Bev, panicked: WHAT IS CLOTHES???

Bev: I taught my dog, Pongo, a new trick. *throws ball* Fetch!

Pongo: *just stands there*

Richard: He didn’t do it.

Bev: I taught him to ignore social conventions and think for himself.

Bev: COMPANY IS COMING! I WANT THIS PLACE LOOKING LIKE DISNEY ON ICE IN ONE MINUTE!

Bev: RICHARD IF YOU HAVEN'T MADE YOUR BED THROW IT AWAY IT'S TOO LATE TO MAKE IT NOW!

Bev: GET RID OF THE COUCHES, WE CAN'T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE S I T !

Richard: Wow, it sure smells like wrong dog in here!

Bev: Oh buddy...

Richard, already sobbing: ASK.

Richard: Hi, I'm Bev's emergency contact.

Counter Woman: You're here to pick him up?

Richard: I'm here to remove myself as his emergency contact.

Richard: Can I have some?

Bev, mouth full of cheesecake: It's really spicy, you wouldn't like it.

Richard, to Bev: Well, one of us has to be wrong and it’s not going to be me.

Richard: I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are.

Bev: Okay?

Richard: …

Richard: …

Richard: Actually it’s gonna bug me if I don’t, so—

Bev: Let's all agree that going up the stairs on all fours is actually the best experience on earth.

Richard: Conversely, going down the stairs on all fours is actually the most terrifying experience on earth.

Hugh: I will beat all of you in Rock, Paper, Scissors. You go first.

Richard: Rock.

Hugh: Paper.

Hugh: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Richard: Where did you get that?

Hugh: My pocket.

Richard: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Hugh: Skills.

Hugh: .. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY)

Richard: What's that?

Hugh: Remorse code.

Richard: I'm even angrier now.

Hugh: Why are we friends?

Richard: Poor decisions on your part.

Hugh, acting tough: You guys don't want to mess with me.

Richard: Yeah, Hugh will straight up cry in public. Don't try him.

Hugh: Exactly, I will straight up-

Hugh:

Hugh, tearing up: Richard, why would you say that?!

Richard: Hey, what’s the name of the guy who lives down the hall?

Hugh: His cats' names are Walter and Rose.

Richard: That's not what I asked.

Hugh: That is all the information I have.

Hugh: Go big or go home!

Richard: Please, for once in your life just go home. I'm begging you. Go. Home.

Hugh: I'm going big!

Hugh: Are you busy?

Richard: No.

Hugh: Want to do something?

Richard: Why would you try to ruin this for me?

Hugh: The Ocean is a soup.

Richard:

Richard: Do elaborate.

Hugh: What are needed for something to be a soup?

Richard: Erm... Water, salt, some form of vegetation, and personally I prefer some meat in mine.

Hugh: *Tilts head*

Richard: The Ocean is a Soup.

Hugh: The Ocean is a Soup.

Hugh: *walking around disappointed after visiting an aquarium*

Richard: Hugh, what did you think a tiger shark was?

Hugh: So, I've been thinking Richard-

Richard: That's dangerous.

Hugh, T-posing in the doorway: Greetings, Richard.

Richard, not looking up from his coffee: Good morning, problem child.

Hugh: I regret nothing!!!

Richard: I regret everything!!!

Hugh: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free: pouring river water in your socks!

Richard: Why would I do that?

Hugh: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free!

Richard: I called you like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up?

Hugh: *remembers dancing to the ringtone*

Hugh: I didn’t hear it.

Richard, throwing a pokeball at Hugh: Hugh, I choose you!

Hugh, not looking up from their book and catching it: You need an Ultra ball to catch this Legendary Pokémon.

Hugh: Advice of the day kids, if you ever meet someone who calls Gatorade flavors the actual name of the flavor instead of just the color then they are a certified nerd.

Richard: Yeah but you have to specify, frost glacier or cool blue? You can’t just say blue because there’s more than one blue.

Hugh: Blue and light blue, nice try nerd.

Hugh: And if you have any suggestions, please put them in the suggestion box.

Richard: That’s a trash can.

Richard: Just say when.

Melvyn: When.

Richard: I-

Richard: Now or later?

Melvyn: Oh.

Melvyn: *is visibly upset*

Richard: Melvyn, what happened? I haven't seen you like this since you found out candyland wasn't an actual country.

Melvyn: Hey.

Richard: Hey?

Melvyn: I can't sleep. :/

Richard: I can. Goodnight.

Richard: Melvyn, say aluminum again. It's the entire source of my serotonin during these trying times.

Melvyn: *sigh* Only for you, buddy. Alyoouminnieeum.

Richard: We need a plan to beat them.

Melvyn: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food.

Richard:

Melvyn: Judge me all you want, I get results.

Melvyn: I just got the best idea I've ever had in my entire life!

*Later*

Richard, to Melvyn: That was the worst idea you’ve ever had in your entire life.

Richard: *trying to get five seconds of sleep*

Melvyn, poking Richard’s arm: Richard Richard. Richard. Richard.

Richard: WHAT?

Melvyn: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Melvyn: Everything’s fine, Richard.

Richard: Melvyn, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

Melvyn: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird?

Richard: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

Melvyn: You might not know this, Richard, but I am a flawed person.

Richard: I do know that.

Richard: State your name, rank, and intention.

Melvyn: Melvyn, Melvyn, fun.

Richard: *Turns on the kitchen light*

Melvyn: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*

Richard: It’s four in the morning.

Melvyn: Turn the light back off.

Richard: Am I right, Jeff?

Jeff: I’m almost certain you’re not, but to be fair, I wasn’t listening.

Richard: I ran into Jeff in the kitchen at 1 AM last night and when I asked him what he was doing, he just shrugged, said “these are my roaming hours,” and wandered off, strumming vaguely on his guitar.

Jeff: Don’t be sad!

Richard: Why not?

Jeff:

Jeff: I don’t have a good answer.

Richard: What’s the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?

Jeff: “Stalagmite” has an “m” in it.

Richard: Everyone knows that Santa is an invention designed by the big five corporations to sell tinsel and video games to an unsuspecting public.

Jeff: The whole “childhood wonder” stage just blew right past you, didn’t it?

[perfectlyvalid49]

I just want to say that your words about feeling like you yourself are becoming radicalized resonated with me. I was already growing fed up with the current state of leftism and this just seems the last straw. The black and white thinking, the purity culture, the blood thirst – I’m just done.

I’m not even Jewish in any meaningful way (my mom hid/disavowed that part of her ancestry growing up in the soviets). I’m just a very mixed queer person whose ethnicity is best described as ‘uhhh.’ But my social circle has always been largely Jewish, and recently many of said social circle have had to up and leave their home country. In many cases, Israel was their only option. So seeing thousands of people who are supposedly on my side thoughtlessly chant ‘from the river to the sea’ just broke me. Seeing people try to prove that it’s not antisemitic has been mind-boggling. “It doesn’t explicitly call for violence against Jewish people.” Well, nor does ‘Jews will not replace us,’ and yet…

I deleted my social media at a really low point, and now that I’m back I find myself mostly following Jewish blogs. And I feel my worldview shifting because where before I had hopes that things that frustrate me on the left could maybe be fixed, now I no longer think it’s fixable.

Sorry for rambling from this Schrödinger’s gentile

Hi Anon,

I’m glad I could write something that spoke to you.

Before this blog became so focused on the conflict in Israel, I talked a lot about US politics, a topic I’ve been interested in since I was in middle school (I’m weird and nerdy – get over it). And to be clear, I’m “old” for the internet, so middle school means the 1996 presidential election, which I remember discussing with my friends at lunch (they were also weird and nerdy, there’s a reason we were friends).

So when I say that I’ve been watching other people get radicalized for a long time, I mean it. I’ve watched friends fall into information silos and have felt helpless to stop it. I mean, the best man at my (very Jewish!) wedding is now a trad-Cath who thinks I’m going to hell because I refuse to accept Jesus into my life.

There has always been an antisemitism problem on the left. You can scroll through just about any blog on jumblr and look at posts prior to October and you can see that we were all bitching about it before the 7th. I’m not sure if it has actually gotten worse or if it’s just more obvious now, but we can say they seem radicalized now. Honestly, there’s nothing I can do about it, because they certainly aren’t going to listen to me – I’m a filthy (((Zionist))) after all.

But there’s at least a handful of Jewish people who are listening to me. I’ve picked up a score of followers in the last few months, so clearly you all think what I have to say is worth reading, so read this: I worry that at least parts of the Jewish community are headed down a bad path and I don’t know what to do about it. I know why we are blocking and unfollowing so many – the things they say are hurtful at best and terrifying at worst. But it leaves us in a situation where it’s the same few voices being repeated over and over. It doesn’t mean that we are radicalized, but I worry that we’re headed toward an echo chamber at least, and that’s not good. I’ve left a lot of leftist spaces behind. I’d prefer to not have to do that with Jewish ones as well.

I don’t have a solution other than that we need to be really careful and think about how we’re thinking about things if that makes any sense. The example I gave last time was moving from “you can be anti-Zionist without being antisemitic” to “anti-Zionism is antisemitism.” How did we make that move? Was it motivated by logic or emotion? It’s ok to change your stance, but with the way things are I think we really need to think about why we’re doing that, or it could lead to a bad place.

Back to the anon who is losing hope – that’s tough, and I can see why you feel that way. There are two thoughts that I repeat to myself to keep me hopeful. The first is that on a long enough timescale, things tend to improve. There’s lots of small steps forward and stumbling backwards, but overall we tend to move in the right direction. The other is that trying and failing and not trying at all have the same result. Maybe we won’t have a big effect. But if I can tell 30 people and even three of them can tell 30 people and so on, then maybe my words can reach at least one person and help them pull their heads out of their ass. And that’s better than nothing.

[tweecrushconfessions]

oh-crap-im-almost-an-adult!!

Okay, so let's get one thing straight. I've been using the 'just-a-teenage-girl' card as my get-out-of-jail-free ticket for the better part of my teen years. Late for class? Just a teenage girl who needs her beauty sleep. Room looking like the aftermath of a tornado? Just a teenage girl with an 'artistic temperament'.

However, as the hands of time relentlessly drag me towards the dreaded threshold of adulthood, I find myself quaking in my Doc Martens. Oh the sheer horrors.

First things first, denial seems like a great coping mechanism. I mean, they say age is just a number, right? But my parents have reliably informed me that age, in fact, comes with responsibilities and is not solely for the purpose of upgrading my driving license or getting into rated movies.

Well, I guess I'll have to strategize. Adapt. Overcome. Start talking like a Bear Grylls survivalist, apparently. But seriously, let's explore some options, shall we?

Plan A; Marry a rich man and.. what?

I've been binge-watching way too much crime videos lately, and I may or may not have thought about marrying a super-rich guy and then conveniently 'getting rid of him'. Yes, you read that right. I mean, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to survive in this capitalist society, right? All in the name of self-preservation... and a life of luxury, of course.

Now, hold on! Before you report me to the authorities, let me clarify that this is all hypothetical. This is my desperate mind’s attempt at avoiding adult responsibilities. Trust me, I can barely keep a plant alive (I killed off like two cactuses) , let alone execute a perfect crime. I mean, have you watched Forensic Files? They always get caught. Always.

Besides, just imagine the mess. Me, clumsily trying to navigate a life of high society, rubbing elbows with the CEOs whilst hiding my love for cheap fast food and discount clothing stores, and hiding the fact that I cringe at Elon Musk. Picture me trying to put up with stuffy events when I’d rather be at home, in my pyjamas, watching pirated movies and eating microwaved popcorn. And let's not even talk about the problem of the actual 'getting rid of him' part. Yikes! My apologies to any potential future husbands out there. Rest assured, your lives are safe with me. (Not sure if I'll have one, but just in case..')

Plan B; Run Away and Join the Circus

I'm pretty good at juggling... my school work, sleep schedule, and social life, that is. However, I'm not sure how that translates into juggling balls, flaming torches, or worse, responsibilities!

Plan C: Establishing My Own Country

Now this one's for when the going gets really tough. If all else fails, I might just declare my room a sovereign nation. I mean, it has its own flag (the mess on my floor that vaguely resembles my laundry), a national anthem (my Spotify playlist), and a unique culture (the art of procrastinating and marathoning TV shows).

We'll have our own national holidays, like 'No Homework Day' or 'Ice Cream for Breakfast Day'. And the best part? The rules of the outside world don't apply here. Late for a meeting? You're just abiding by the national custom of 'fashionably late'. Forgot to do your chores? That's alright; in our nation, we believe in natural order, even if it means letting dirty dishes pile up.

Who knows? Maybe I'll find that the adulting life isn't as terrifying as it seems. And until then, don't worry, no rich husbands will be harmed in the survival process. Well, at least not intentionally…But in all seriousness, does anyone know where I can get a 'How to Adult' handbook? Asking for a friend… obviously.

[queenkoalas-corner-of-hell]

Whilst I take care of the next installment of “A Mate Reject and a Gamma” I figure I’ll take a poll from the masses to see of actually Intersex Tobirama is a good idea for Useful Blades. Important; bold is addressing fanfiction in general as well.

Before you nuke me, here’s the thought process I had. Originally, what made me think about Useful Blades was what lengths Tobirama would go to be useful and obviously I wanted it to be MadaTobi so an arranged marriage would be the call to action and has been done effectively and beautifully (love this corner of the fandom, you guys are the best) but as a (mad) scientist and a bride growing up in the period, providing an heir would be one of those things he’d consider. I could go the drama route of him pushing Madara to girls or second wives (blergh) and I might end up using briefly but the scientist genius part struck me as “if Orochimaru could do it…..” and so on. But then I thought, seals and such are possible sure, scifi tube baby too (which would be hilarious with the idea of Izuna walking down to Tobirama’s science cellar and finding glass cases of infants and freaking tf out). Sexy no jutsu and Kage Bunshin’s lovechild could also be a possibility. But then I thought, what if it was his understanding of medical science that he twisted himself? Then I thought, what if he already innately had a set to work with.

Thus, I thought, if he was intersex in a time with poor understanding genetics as a whole and had XX chromosomes but appeared “incompletely” masculine Tobi would still be raised a man and identify as such. Infertility and difficulty of getting pregnant would be interesting concepts to explore in a person driven to provide an heir. Very angsty.

Of course there’s already plenty of angst to be found in his albinism and consequential hinderances to his health. It is also a personal headcanon the man has some degree of autism or something akin to it, the man has a neural divergence for sure. So it wouldn’t be necessary but it would be an interesting thought to follow.

Chimerism was considered too since it seems like a possibility with what happened with Itama’s hair. Albino and not? Genetics are weird enough but applying to anime is madness….

Intersex Tobirama hasn’t been explored much if at all outside of the strange pseudo intersex of omegverse mpreg which… is weirdly close to the idea of a “true hermaphrodite” and fetishization of it. Granted heats and bonds and such aren’t, ya know, an actual thing so it blurs the lines for most. Could get into a whole rant about it but no…

If I did make Tobirama intersex I’d be dancing a very precarious line. Lines. XX is sexually recognized as the female chromosome set. Intersex XX Tobirama/Cis XY Madara could read as a heterosexual if not futa sort of thing. Stepping vaguely on trans territory by nature, misconstrued as homophobia, and so forth. Intersex individuals are in the political crossfire at the moment, what with the US doing whatever it is they’re doing about gender affirming care. The last thing this group needs is a salt on wounds monkey show in the form of glorified dehumanizing porn.

That being said, Actually Intersex Tobirama could be problematic as it could be beneficial. Exposing people to accurate information in the form of storytelling is an amazing way for masses to learn. Intersex representation in modern media and art is negligible at best. However because it is a story it is bound to be unrealistic. I’m also not intersex myself so conjectures made by the information I have and just human empathy wouldn’t mean it would apply to everyone across the board. The human experience is a vast one and the intersex community is vast in itself. Experiences and cultures and times all so different…

So yeah, I could dive head first and try my best, or I could leave it. I don’t care for “political correctness” as a face thing, I care more for the people that can be validated and felt seen. Or likewise, hurt by it.

But… anyway…

[devitalise]

IMO so diligent with the end-of-month wrap up already in my inbox sheesh!! 💌💨 will answer asap BUT b4 I forget myself/make u have to wait long on my behalf - ur October roundup plzzzzz & did u watch good (or bad) horror movies? 🧟‍♀️🎞️

CAS 🤭😁 yes it’s my favourite part of the month 🥰 this was very book heavy this month i think because i gave myself parameters to read within. black history month means black authors and i already owned quite a few

october wrap up

harlem shuffle by colson whitehead

i wanted to love this book so much it’d been on my radar for over a year but it just missed the mark for me. i think harlem felt so alive and real, but this really suffered from poor writing choices. i can absolutely do a book told on dual timelines and changing tenses, but the way it went from present to past was just so confusing. slippery pov’s that weren’t consistent. janky sentence structure ruined the flow. the lead character has no evolution of thoughts and feelings, and still thinks of himself the same throughout the book which i don’t get as an intentional writing thing, but a poor characterisation thing. found a great playlist for it though

if beale street could talk by james baldwin

i’m sold on james baldwin. this book is phenomenal. again in harlem (completely unintentional!) there’s something so beautiful in the sadness of this book.

honey & spice by bolu babalola

i’m too old for this book. mind you, i’m 23 and a romance enjoyer. the only positive i have for this is the fluidness of the dialogue between kiki and kai. everything else, however, i had major problems with. the pop culture references really dated this book, if i didn’t already know the author was 30, i’d know for sure reading this. very cringe and not very convincing as a romance. way too over descriptive and the racism subplot was so jarring

open water by caleb azumah nelson

i haven’t reread a book since i read jacqueline wilson as a child. but it was so necessary to beat the literary snob allegations. just as, if not more empowering the second time round. such an all encompassing read that reads like poetry without the pretentiousness. one of my favourite books for sure

memphis by tara m. stringfellow

i’ve only ever read generational sagas, but i do think this was able to do something interesting in the 300 pages. i personally enjoy going into books blind but would say check triggers. it’s not amazingly written, but the story and what the author had to say on women in the family and women as a community made up for it.

queenie by candice carty-williams

i didn’t think i’d like this book going off how it’s spoken about. this is what all the other annoying 20something in the city making poor decision books have tried to do and missed the mark. the main reason for that is because there are actually people in queenie’s life supporting her and most importantly, liking her. i liked it a lot more because her being from a black british jamaican background is very real to me, personally.

the death of vivek oji by akwaeke emezi

i need more people to be upfront about the incest in this book when recommending. to withhold that information is in very bad faith, but i’ve read it after having it on my list for close to a year. it is as good as the tiktok girlies say, actually. the author has a real talent there’s something so compelling and immersive in both the setting, the characters, the way grief is written and gender identity explored. i am going to read pet after this and maybe freshwater

how the one armed sister sweeps her house by cherie jones

i started this back in may and had to put it down because it was just SO triggering and hard to read, but i’m so, so glad i came back to it. it’s grotesque, gruesome, an unflinching look at trauma and abuse, but is still a commendable account of barbados in the 70s. it’s definitely not for everyone, but this is genuinely a phenomenal book well worth the read to me, personally

the dangers of smoking in bed by mariana enriquez

not a black author. i was on the coach back from gatwick airport and only had like 4 books downloaded to pick from. so i chose a horror book for the season. didn’t like this at all really. i’ve only read one other short story anthology and i didn’t really like that either, but i don’t think one book is enough to write off a sub genre. two is, though. some of the stories were ok i guess but they averaged like 15 pages each sorry i just don’t think anything can be of any substance of that length, and they weren’t! they weren’t really very scary, and a few just relied entirely on gory/taboo subjects to make up for cheap endings and were quite boring otherwise

movies

i’ve watched a decent amount of horror movies this month i think. i’ve done the first two final destinations, cruel intentions, drop dead gorgeous, paranormal activity. i was going to take a chance on the new ryan murphy thing but as soon as i saw based on a true story i was like no! i don’t do true crime it’s weird i think it’s a perverse interest to have. i’m on season 3 of true blood and i might watch one of the scream movies tonight i’m not sure

this has been a novel and a half i’m currently at 189 books read so i could push for 200 by the end of the year. now that i’m back home i can switch back to physical books for a lil bit before i go away for a week for work in november. no specific reading goals/ideas of what i want to read we’re switching back to vibes

[suginami-division]

Maki’s Thoughts on Toshima Division

Kaori Narizuka

“It’s strange to say this, but this woman is rather ordinary… And it’s abnormal in the context of this competition, no? Chuuoku has chosen a colorful group of candidates as leaders and this woman looks unremarkable to the cast of characters that make up the D.R.B. roster. I hope that doesn’t come out as insulting, but I worry for how she will perform in the competition against everyone else. Despite that, she could hold many surprises, so I shall keep an eye on how she performs in the future.”

Mei Yu

“A cheongsam dress? I didn’t think anyone wore that seriously outside of… Very specific events or establishments. It’s simply not a common style of dress in Japan, outside of some places I’d rather not talk about, which is somewhat of a shame. Truly, I should have improved my abilities with the language so I could go abroad there to study more about the culture and history, but I doubt I will have the time to do so now. Teaching at a university level can be… Draining.”

“I guess that coming from a Chinese background, Yu-san wears what she has.  And she wears it well if I should say so myself. I wonder if the little detective will have some kinder, more specific words to say about it since he seems to have this deep interest with fashion… I’m hardly the person to critique how a person looks, after all.”

Lillian Rees

“A British woman who acts as a computer specialist in the Chuuoku ward… She certainly poses as a great concern to me. Not only is the fact she works for the government a problem, but it wouldn’t be out of possibility that she collaborates with mother. Computers and intelligence must work hand in hand... The others may not think much about her, but I think that I should watch for her at the very least. Or maybe, she can be civil and we can talk it out. After all, I have a responsibility to my team’s particular goal. My personal grievances outweigh important details like Miss. Rees’s work.”

Inner Circle

“Outside of Miss. Rees, I don’t think that this team will prove too much trouble. Even if we face this team and we are defeated, I’ll take whatever scrap of information about Chuuoku to heart. Any useful information will help us get the answers we want. And I’m sure my dear brother would love to know about it too. If anything, I wouldn’t doubt that Ryuko would chase after this Chuuoku team just to juice every last bit of information that we want out of them.”

[taromilksnake]

1:41pm so

responding to dean took 3 days, and immediately after I was (am) on the brink of tears which is…definitely not normal lol. thank god he didn’t respond right away, as I don’t think i’d be able to handle that.

a few ways to see the situation:

the bones: dean was going through it, and from my assessment is an avoidant type. I was also going through it as the time, and was an anxious-attachment type. while leaving me on read for 6 months was fucked up, it was an issue of me not setting boundaries, and in a way I was trying to outsource my emotional regulation on dean, which isn’t fair. in short, fault on both sides

the phlegm: I’ll come out and say it, I don’t like his boyfriend. he’s lowkey a disney adult (re the hogwarts tattoo), and he interrupts me during conversation (which would be fine if he paused when I interrupt him, but he doesn’t. he pauses for dean, though, which is understandable). no doubt it’s my insecurities speaking, but I don’t see what dean sees in him. me seeing relationships in terms of value may be a sign of my own immaturity, though

the bile: he can’t ever love me because I don’t have a penis. well, replace “love” with “have sex,” but it’s rejection all the same, and it’s a nuanced kind of pain that cuts deep. I wish I was cis, and I hope it’s not because of dean. I don’t think it is, but it would be deeply insulting to me if it were. that said, it occurs to me to wonder if he recognizes me as a guy or not. It’s poor timing, and gay culture is not a monolith, but I’ve always felt on the outs of the kind of gay culture dean embraces (or seems to embrace). even when he shared it with me I felt like a stranger. it confirms in my mind that cis men can’t ever understand trans guys (and vice versa), and that I won’t ever find someone who could love me…

the blood: it occurred to me that I may have a “scarcity mindset” surrounding my emotions. all my life it felt like I’m liked best when I put others before me, that the version of me that others loved best is when my feelings, my true self is put away asleep. I think even now I don’t believe unconditional love can exist for me, but I’ll take conditional love over no love at all. I think the closest that comes for me is sherry. it scares me some because resentment grows so easily in my heart. Rationally, I think that even if tomorrow I wake up and dean and I are dating and living together, it won’t make this feeling of emptiness go away. even so, I tear up, I cower at the thought of chasing a love that will never love me back (thank you ada limon for giving me this language). it might be the scariest thing to me. I don’t ever volunteer information about myself, as though it’s a test to see if people really love me. I don’t think dean or any of my friends know much about my parents, or grandma or grandpa. They for sure don’t know that I watched grandpa pass away, and the mixed feelings I have about the jacket he left. maybe this is true for most people though. after all, I don’t usually ask about others’ lives.

the heart: what is frustrating and scary is that I recognize that dean has become a symbol of unattainable love or me. in a way, he has confirmed both the existence of a kind of love I have yet to experience, and also a deep-seated fear that that same love can never, never happen for me. dean is obviously not responsible for this, and to some extent I don’t blame myself too badly for this either (recognizing the situation isn’t the same as solving it, and again: leaving me on read for half a year is fucked up). what’s unfortunate is that I think we genuinely share a very special connection, and I’m not (yet) willing to give that up. which feeds into the delusion. more and more i understand the dilemma lost love vs no love. not much a choice, as no one can survive without love in some way. maybe the first step is to just share the things you want to share, and be more unabashed in asking for affection. that’s all I ever really wanted.

[vgckwb]

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 180: The Ballad of Makoto Niijima

On Wednesday, after testing was done, Mr. Arai called through the announcement system “Attention! Will Makoto Niijima please report to the Principal’s office.” Makoto was confused, but she shrugged and headed over there.

When she entered, she asked “You wanted to see me, Mr Arai?”

“Please, have a seat,” Mr. Arai said. Makoto took her seat, though she was a little confused. “Your sister came in earlier today.”

Makoto was shocked. “She did?”

Mr. Arai nodded. “She’s coming here Friday to set up a series of interviews to ask about The Phantom Thieves.”

Makoto was even more shocked. “Huh.”

“You’re the student council president,” Mr. Arai said. “I thought you should know.”

“Thanks,” Makoto said.

“Also, due to the recent turbulence, we still do not have a guest speaker for this year’s Cultural Festival. Normally, these things are decided by a vote, but due to recent events, it’ll be nigh on impossible to conduct one. So, I would like to ask if you could invite someone.”

“Are you sure?” Makoto asked. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I’m not asking for an A-List celebrity,” Mr. Arai said. “In fact, it doesn’t have to be a celebrity at all. Just someone who can give a quick presentation. A fireman, for example.”

“I see,” Makoto said. “I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Arai said. “There’s one other thing I want to talk about.” Makoto was curious. “Did you know I went to school with Aki?”

Makoto was shocked. “My…My mom?”

Mr. Arai nodded. “The very same. In fact, she was the first person, other than myself, who knew about my…orientation.”

“I…didn’t know that,” Makoto said.

“We sort of grew apart once we went to college,” Mr. Arai stated. “We were in different areas of study, and cell phones weren’t really a thing back then. We’d keep in contact from time to time, but we didn’t meet regularly. Still, I like to think of her as a dear friend. I even attended her funeral.”

“Oh…” Makoto reacted. “I…didn’t notice. Or don’t remember.”

“It’s alright,” Mr. Arai said. “You were only three. Besides, you had just lost your mom. I can’t imagine that was easy on you.”

“Right…” Makoto said. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Im telling you this because when your sister came in, she seemed…distressed,” Mr. Arai said. “I know her job can be strenuous, but this felt different.” He sighed. “I know I may be overstepping my boundaries, but I’d like to ask you to make sure your sister is alright on the behalf of your mother. I’m sure she would have wanted it.”

Makoto was still processing all this information, but without hesitation, she nodded, and said “I will.”

Mr. Arai nodded back. “That’s all I needed to hear. Thank you.”

Makoto got up. “Thank you.” She left.

After she left, she messaged the group.

Makoto: Apparently, the prosecutor’s office is conducting interviews at the school Friday about The Phantom Thieves.

Ryuji: WHAT?!

Ann: What do they even have?!

Futaba: Well, as much as I hate to say it, it makes sense.

Lena: What do we do?

Yusuke: Not saying anything is a good start.

Lena: I mean, if they’re already, how long before they figure it out regardless?

Ren: That is concerning.

Haru: Well, maybe we can use this to our advantage.

Makoto: Huh?!

Sumire: How so?

Haru: Based on their questions, we can figure out how much they know and make adjustments based on that.

Makoto: That’s actually a good idea.

Futaba: Now the only question is can everyone keep cool?

Ryuji: Of course.

Yusuke You say that, but you’re the one I’m worried about most.

Ryuji: WHAT?!

Ann: I’m sure you’ll be fine sweetie.

Jose: Yeah, you’ll do great!

Ren: I know we like to kid, but you pull through when it counts.

Ryuji: Thanks.

Sumire: If anything, I’m a little worried about myself.

Sumire: I men, if my coach could figure it out, who’s to say the police can’t?

Jose: Wait, your coach knows?

Sumire: Oh. Yeah.

Suire: Sorry, I forgot to tell you.

Ren: I’m sure it’ll be fine.

Ren: Your coach is rather smart.

Ren: I doubt that some random officer has the deductive skills she has.

Sumire: True.

Ren: So, the plan is to hold steadfast and see what we can figure out.

Sumire: I think the Shujin Thieves should meet after school and compare notes.

Haru: Excellent idea, Sumi-chan!

Sumire: Thanks.

Ren: Alright then, good luck for that, and on your last day of midterms tomorrow.

Ann: Ugh, don’t remind me.

They went home for the day.

Makoto tried to check on her sister that night, but Makoto had to go to bed before she came home. She checked her phone to see that Sae didn’t have a crusader yet, so she was relieved on that front. The same thing happened Thursday, but again, she didn’t have a crusader.

Friday came, and with it, the interviews. Before class started, Mr. Arai took to the speaker to announce “Attention everyone! Today police officers are coming to interview people in regards to the Phantom Thieves case. Please just remain calm, and answer the questions honestly. I apologize for the inconvenience. I know you’ve gone through a lot this year, but I have faith in each and every one of you. Thank you.”

There was some hesitation among the students, but Miss Kawakami shouted “Alright, settle down! I know it’s hard, but our hands are tied on the matter. I’m sure you will all be fine. Just don’t go doing anything stupid, OK?” The class settled down.

When it came time Ren and Ann went together for their interview. Ren went in first. “Good afternoon,” the officer said. “We just have a couple of questions for you, then we’ll be out of your hair, OK?” Ren nodded. “According to our record, you’re currently on probation. How is that going?”

“I believe it’s going well,” Ren answered.

“Alright,” the officer said. “You transferred to this school, correct?” Ren nodded. “And not long after, Mr. Kamoshida got attacked by The Phantom Thieves. Do you happen to know why?”

“That's more of a coincidence than anything,” Ren said. “From what I know, Mr. Kamoshida’s…tendencies were essentially the worst kept secret of the school. It’s possible that this was planned for a while.”

“Hm,” the officer said. “And the following attacks?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ren answered.

“Did you know Kaneshiro was blackmailing students here?” the officer said.

“I had heard it wasn’t limited to here,” Ren said, “but I was aware, but only slightly.”

The officer looked at her more intently. “Are you aware that your schoolmate Haru is Kunikazu Okumura’s daughter?”

“Haru-senpai?” Ren said. “I mean, I’m friends with her, but she never told me her last name.”

“I see,” the officer said. “Do you know anyone who goes to Kosei academy?”

Ren nodded. “My friends and I met a young prodigy named Jose at the flower shop in the underground mall in Shibuya. I’ve been learning shogi from Hifumi Togo. And Madarame’s former pupil approached me and my friends because he wanted one of us to be his model.”

“Very well,” the officer said. “How tech savvy are you?”

“I’d say I’m average,” Ren answered. “I know the basics, but I don’t have any specialties.”

“Do you know anyone that does?” the officer asked.

“Not that I can think of,” Ren said.

“Hmmmm,” the officer groaned. “Alright. You’re free to go now. If we have any more questions, we can contact Sojiro Sakura, correct?”

“That’s right,” Ren said.

“Very well,” the officer said. “Have a good day.”

Ren got up and left. Once she met with Ann, she just said “You’re up.” Ann nodded and went in.

After school the Shujin Thieves met on the roof. “Just so you know, I kept my cool,” Ryuji said. “At least with my words. If they saw how sweaty my palms were, I’d be toast.”

"Tell me about it,” Ann said. “It seems like they knew more than they were letting on.”

“But why not press further,” Morgana said, popping out of Ren’s bag.

“I have a feeling they’re going to go over notes and narrow their search,” Makoto said.

“It’s a little scary,” Lena said. “I’ve only been a member since the summer, but already they suspect me.”

“I think they’re ‘suspecting’ everyone,” Ryuji said. “See who can break first.”

“I think he’s right,” Haru said. “My father was targeted by The Phantom Thieves, and they seemed to suspect me of being involved.”

“Um, but you were involved,” Lena pointed out.

“I know,” Haru said. “But there’s not much of a reason to suspect that.”

“I don’t know,” Makoto said. “My sister is very clever. Besides, we don’t know what everyone was asked.”

“It seemed routine,” Sumire said.

“Well, relatively speaking,” Ren said. Everyone looked at her. “I mean, when you’re arrested on false charges, the ‘usual questions’ are more pointed.”

“Well, whatever the case may be,” Morgana interjected, “we have an idea of how things are going.”

“They are dancing around the truth,” Ann said.

“Yeah, but it’s not like they can prove anything,” Ryuji pointed out.

“Again, if they have a specific aim, ‘proof’ might not be that much of a worry,” Ren said.

“If only we could get more information,” Sumire said.

Makoto lit up. “Maybe we could.”

“How do you figure?” Morgana asked.

“Principal Arai tasked me with finding a speaker for the cultural festival,” Makoto said. “Perhaps we can get someone involved in the case to come.”

“But who would do such a thing?” Haru wondered.

Lena got excited. “Goro!”

Makoto nodded. “My thoughts exactly. Plus, he’s exciting on his own merits.”

“I’ll say,” Lena replied.

“Do you think he’ll go for it?” Ann wondered.

“Only one way to find out,” Makoto said. She took out her phone and gave Akechi a call.

Akechi picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey there, Akechi,” Makoto said, nervously.

“Ah, Makoto,” Akechi replied. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I know this is on such short notice,” Makoto began, “but our school’s cultural festival is coming up soon, and Principal Arai asked me to find a speaker. I wasn’t sure what to do, but then you popped into my head. So, I was wondering…if you’re not too busy…”

“I’d be delighted to,” Akechi said.

Makoto was surprised. “R-Really?”

“Of course,” Akechi said. “I’m surprised you didn’t call earlier.”

“Well, I was busy with midterms,” Makoto countered.

“Ah, right, of course,” Akechi said. “Well, I look forward to seeing you then. As well as Mr. Arai. What do you think I should get him as a gift to celebrate his new position?”

“I think your presence will be enough,” Makoto assured him.

“How nice of you to say,” Akechi replied. “Well, this has been nice, but I have a work matter to attend to, so I have to hang up now.”

“Alright, bye!” Makoto replied.

“Bye!” Akechi said. He hung up.

Makoto put her phone away. She sighed. “I can’t believe that worked."

“I dunno,” Ryuji said. “I’m worried about him knowing too much still.”

“I feel like we’re at a point where this whole thing is becoming too big to contain,” Haru said.

Sumire nodded. “I think so long as we choose our allies carefully, we can let some things slip.”

“And there’s no better ally than Goro!” Lena cheered. The thieves chuckled.

“Well, I suggest we have a meeting tomorrow to inform everyone and brainstorm our next move,” Ren suggested.

“Yeah, um, about that,” Ryuji wondered, “when should we try and storm Makoto’s sis’s palace?”

“I think that’s a discussion worth having tomorrow,” Makoto said. “Nothing’s changed yet, but I don’t want to be in the middle of a palace when everything shifts.”

“I guess that’s true,” Ryuji said. “Besides, I’m still a little beat from midterms.”

“By the way, you all did well, I assume?” Makoto wondered. Ren, SUmire, and Haru nodded, while Ann, Ryuji, and Lena were a little unsure. “Guys…”

“I think I did alright,” Lena said. “I don’t think I failed anything. But I don’t think I’m getting the top score either.”

“I think as long as Hiroki is in our class, the top spot is out of our reach forever,” Ryuji lamented. “But I think I did alright.”

“Yeah,” Ann said. “This was the hardest I studied for anything. I sure hope it pays off.”

“I hope so too,” Makoto said.

“Well, I think that’s about as much as we can do for now,” Ren said. “I’ll message the others about meeting tomorrow.” Everyone nodded, and they started to leave.

On her way out, Makoto got a message. She checked her phone. She grew alarmed. “Hey, um, Ren? Mind if you run a quick errand with me for a second?”

“Um, OK?” Ren said, noticing Makoto’s concern.

“Thanks,” Makoto said. She took Ren’s hand, and rushed off.

As they were running, Ren asked “Um, what’s this about?”

“Eiko said she needed urgent help,” Makoto said. “She wanted me to bring Yusuke, but you’ll have to do.”

“I see,” Ren said, getting more on board. “Where are we going?”

“Big Bang Burger,” Makoto said. Ren nodded, and the two were on their way. Once they got in, Ren ordered some fires and drinks for the three of them, while Makoto found Eiko. “Eiko!” She went to sit down.

“Hey Makoto,” Eiko said, sheepishly. Ren sat down. Eiko was uneasy.

“Oh, right,” Makoto said. “I know you wanted me to bring Yusuke, but I had some student council stuff to do after school. I didn’t want to keep you waiting, so I brought along Ren. You remember her, right?”

“Hey,” Ren said. Eiko nodded.

“So, what’s the issue?” Makoto said.

Eiko was hesitant. “Um, well, could I borrow some money?”

Makoto was a little relieved. “Is that all? How much?”

“350,000…” Eiko said, sheepishly.

Makoto was stunned. “WHAT?!”

“Shhhh,” Eiko said, trying to calm the situation.

Their fries and drinks then arrived. “Thanks,” Ren said.

“Why do you need that much?” Makoto wondered.

“...It’s not for me,” Eiko said. “It’s for Tsukasa.”

Makoto’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“He accidentally broke a bottle of champagne, and he needs help replacing it,” Eiko explained.

“Eiko…” Makoto said. “Doesn’t that sound a little…fishy to you?”

“What do you mean?” Eiko said.

“That seems like a lot,” Makoto explained. “Even for the fanciest host establishment.”

“Are you saying Tsukasa is dishonest?!” Eiko shouted.

“Would an honest person be texting other women like their also his girlfriend?” Makoto said, showing off a series of texts from Tsukasa.

“How’d you get his number?” Eiko asked.

“You gave him mine,” Makoto said.

“Oh. Right,” Eiko said. “Well, that’s just how he shows affection!”

“Eiko, listen to me!” Makoto said. “Tsukasa is not what he seems!”

“Oh, what do you know?!” Eiko protested. “You and that Yusuke guy aren’t even going out!”

Makoto was stunned. “How did you…?”

“Tsukasa told me,” Eiko said. “I didn’t want to believe him, but…”

Makoto was worried. “Eiko…”

“No!” Eiko screamed. “I don’t want to hear it! Why do you insist on taking away the person that makes me happier than anything else?”

Makoto stood up. “He’s lying to you! He doesn’t care about you!”

“You lied to me!” Eiko countered. “You never trusted Tsukasa! If you were a real friend, you’d have been more supportive!”

“I’m telling you the truth now because I am a real friend!” Makoto replied.

“Shut up!” EIko said. “I don’t need this anymore. And I don’t need you!” Eiko stormed out of the Big Bang Burger. Makoto’s face went pale. She sat back down.

Ren went to comfort her. “Are you OK?”

“I..I don’t know…” Makoto said, still in a state of shock. “I…I guess if I had to put it in words, I feel like a mirror that was shattered into a million pieces.”

Ren put her hand on her shoulder.”It’s OK. You did your best, and that’s all anyone can be asked to do.”

Makoto sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

“But something is bugging me,” Ren pointed out. “Why did she ask you for money? What about her family?”

“Oh, uh, well,” Makoto said, “Eiko’s parents treat her younger brother as this princely figure. So they tend to ignore what she has to say.”

“Yikes!’ Ren said. “I can see why she’d like a host as a boyfriend. It’s practically their job to hang on a girl's every word.”

“True,” Makoto said. “And that’s what worries me. Eiko is the prime target for something nefarious.”

“So, Mementos time?” Ren suggested.

Makoto shook her head. “While it would be nice, Eiko needs to learn her lesson too. Otherwise, she’ll just keep falling for the same trap over and over. And I might not be there to bail her out each time.”

“So, what is the game plan then?” Ren wondered.

“We need to prove to Eiko that Tsukasa isn’t who he says he is,” Makoto said.

“Will she be receptive to it?” Ren wondered.

“Eiko’s smarter than she seems,” Makoto said. “However, she just might not choose to see it. So that’s why we have to open her eyes.”

“I getcha,” Ren said. “Hm.”

Makoto seemed confused. “What was that about?”

“Well, you were worried about losing people without trying everything you could,” Ren said. “Yet you still haven’t given up. Not just on Eiko, but on your sister as well.”

“Oh, uh, well,” Makoto said.

“Relax,” Ren said. “It’s a good thing. You’re incredibly reliable. You’re the student council president. You work so hard. It’s amazing to see you in motion. I think you have nothing to worry about.”

Makoto smiled. “Thanks.”

Priestess-Makoto Niijima: Rank 8

They finished their fries and drinks, and headed out.

Just as Makoto had left for her home, Ren heard “HEY!” She turned to see Mishima rushing over to her. “Hey!”

“Hey,” Ren replied. “What’s up?”

“Wanna go to the diner tonight?” Mishima asked. “My treat!”

Mishima seemed really eager. So despite the fact that she just sort of ate, Ren said “Sure!’

“Great!” Mishima said. “Let’s go!” Mishima and Ren headed into the diner. Once inside, Mishima noticed Ren ordering less food than usual. “Did you eat already? I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Ren said. “I’m still a little hungry. Besides, I want to hear what you have to say.”

Mishima smiled. “Well, I was thinking… I’ve been doing a lot just to get by. But that never took me anywhere. So I shifted to making immediate gains. But that didn’t work either. At least, not as intended. I was getting so lost in the weeds that I couldn’t see what’s in front of me.

So I decided, if I want to change, I have to take the risk. I haven’t been much of a risk-taker in the past, but after what happened with Akiyama, I think I’m ready.”

Ren smiled. “So, what’s the plan then?”

Mishima nodded. “Well…” He noticed Akiyama and his friends walk in. Ren turned to see them as well.

“Well well, look who it is,” one of Akiyama’s friends said. “I almost didn’t see him.”

“Yeah, he just blends into the wallpaper, right Akiyama?” his other friend said. Akiyama didn’t reply. “Akiyama?”

“Let's go,” Akiyama said.

“Huh?” the first friend said. “But-”

“It’s no longer fun to pick on him,” Akiyama said. “Besides, we don’t need to put anyone down to prove that we're great!”

“Are you sure?” his other friend asked.

“Do you wanna test me?” Akiyama threatened.

“NO SIR!” his friends said.

“Then let’s go!” Akiyama said. He walked away with his subordinates in tow.

Mishima nodded. “Well, as I was saying… I’m not 100% sure what the plan is, but I want to break out of my shell a little more. And I want to thank The Phantom Thieves in the process.”

“Oh?” Ren said. “How come?”

“Well, The Phantom Thieves helped me break out of my shell initially,” Mishima said. “And I feel like if I can pass it forward, I’d be doing right by them.”

Ren giggled. “I see.”

“I’m coming up with all sorts of ideas,” Mishima said. “I don’t think I’ll do them all, but it’s better than not having these ideas.”

“Well, are there any ideas that you’re certain of?” Ren asked.

“Mmmmm, a handful,” Mishima said. “But I’d rather it be a surprise for you.”

“Hm hm. Well I do love surprises,” Ren said.

Mishima smiled. “Whatever happens, thank you. And I mean you. I know you’re part of The Phantom Thieves, but you and I have been talking independently of that. Without that, I think I’d still be a bit of a stick in the mud. So, thanks.”

Ren was impressed. She smiled. “Likewise.”

Moon-Yuuki Mishima: Rank 9

They finished dinner, and headed home for the evening.

Meanwhile, Makoto was hoping that her sister would come home on time to check in with her. She was busy with some school work, as well as a plan to figure out how to save Eiko. Suddenly, her doorbell rang. “Coming!” She called out. She rushed to the door.

Upon opening it, she saw it was Naoko, carrying a plate of cookies. “Hey kiddo,” he said.

Makoto was confused. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” Naoko said. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Makoto said, inviting him in. They met up at the table, where Naoko set his plate of cookies down. Makoto took a bite. “Mm. These are really good.”

“Hm hm,” Naoko chuckled. “They're my sister’s recipe.” He paused. “Listen…something happened last night.”

Makoto grew concerned. “What is it?”

Naoko paused again. “You sister came over. She wanted information.”

“About what?” Makoto said.

“Well, she said that the SIU director told her that he was working for The Phantom Thieves,” Naoko explained

 “WHAT?!” Makoto yelped.

“I had told her earlier than I had some suspicions on who they are,” Naoko said. “I was in Shinjuku one night, and a blonde-haired boy accidentally kicked a rock at me. He came to apologize, and we got to talking. He told me that you had put him on a mission. Though he didn't name you, he just said it was the student council president, but…”

“Right,” Makot said, embarrassed.

“I figured that you were at least working for The Phantom Thieves, if not a member,” Naoko said. “Your sister demanded information, so I told her about you, the blonde-haired boy, and the black-haired girl.”

Makoto became alarmed. “Wha…What did she say?”

Naoko smirked. “She didn’t believe me. She wouldn’t believe me. She has a vendetta against The Phantom Thieves, so she chose to ignore what I had to say.”

“I see…” Makoto said. She pouted.

“I’m sorry,” Naoko said. “I know the cookies can’t make up for it completely, but…

“It’s not that,” Makoto said, shaking her head. “I’m going through a similar thing with a friend of mine.”

“I see,” Naoko said. He sighed. “Well, I’m sure you can figure it out. When I wouldn't listen to your father, he always knew how to take the reins.”

Makoto smiled. “Thanks.” She took another cookie. “And thanks for the cookies.”

“No problem,” Naoko said. He started to leave, but sat back down. “Oh, by the way, I’m working on a really big case right now.”

“Really?” Makoto wondered.

Naoko nodded. “When it’s all said and done, maybe I can stop by and tell you the details.”

Makoto nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Great!” Naoko said “Well, seeya kiddo!”

“Bye!” Makoto said. Naoko headed out. Makoto was happy. This was just the pick-me-up she needed. Unfortunately, it didn’t last. She checked the Metaverse app, and what she found horrified her to her core.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi there, and Happy Holidays! I hope you’re doing well. I’m having trouble determining my type - I’m currently torn between INFP and INFJ. You seem very well-informed on Jung’s theory, so I’d like to ask for a type assessment from you. My main conflict is what feeling function I use.

For extra info, I’m 21F. I have ADHD-PI, social anxiety and depression, as well as some trauma, which may affect how I present myself as well as my level of health. I think, regardless of which functions I use, I use them in an unhealthy manner. It’s also worth noting that I don’t have a lot of life experience due to a sheltered upbringing (over-protective parents and relatively lavish home life meant that I never felt the need to demand much from the outside world).

INFP:

Dominant Fi:

I do have a one-sidedness when it comes to my values (if you could call them that, I’m really not sure), deeming types of hobbies, fashion, ambitions, and as such subsets of people as superior or inferior depending on what I think of them. My judgment affects how I see others in a big way. For example, I’ll judge people for dressing in a way I perceive to be “lazy”, because “do they not realise how they look to other people?”. Then, I’ll assume that they’re not associating with beyond common courtesy. Obviously, I know this line of thinking could seem haughty of me, so I don’t express this to others.

I place a lot of value on sophistication, intellect and manners, and expect the same of everyone else as well. My values mostly revolve around my expectations of how people should behave. I’m easily disappointed when I fail to notice these values in others, because my perspectives are based on what I truly believe is best for humanity at large. I recognise that this could be seen as imposing, and I never directly call people out for behaviour I dislike - I would rather persuade them to my side diplomatically.

I’ll be honest, the main reason I believe my feeling process to be introverted is the fact that I just can’t connect to my country’s culture, and it makes me resent it. It’s so heavily focused on everything I have no interest in; drinking, sport, nights out, TV. There’s a worrying amount of anti-intellectualism beginning to prevail too. It bothers me to the point that I want to emigrate, just so I can find likeminded people elsewhere. As such, I have difficulty seeing any values I hold as objective (as much as I wish for them to be universal), when I’m so disconnected from the objective world around me.

Inferior Te:

I lack the fundamental ability to implement solid solutions to my problems. I’m generally very inefficient and dependent on others to help me with this, such as homework in the past or filling in applications. I do struggle to fathom how people navigate the business world and the likes so seamlessly, and I often find myself admiring their ruthless nature. This is probably because my lack of natural assertion has led to problems within my personal life.

I become extremely cold and judgmental under stress, and only care about myself. I tend to self-centredly blame everyone but myself for the issues in the world, including me not being able to identify with those around me, and desperately want to “correct” them. This could be construed as black-and-white thinking in terms of morality. I rely on external standards to amplify my self-image, such as high grades in the past. Despite my coldness, I can flip to being ridiculously sensitive when someone makes me feel inadequate or beneath them, and it can lead to me being snappy with others.

Auxilary Ne:

I believe I use Ne as an escape from the world. I’ll often turn to fantasy as a way to cope. I have used this to procrastinate more pressing issues that I didn’t want to deal with, preferring to live in my daydreams where everything is easier. While I do have very complex worlds in my head, this can be enriched by things outside of it too. For example, I’ll admire the dynamics of a friendship group in a show, and wish for that for myself. So, I form an ideal group in my mind. This serves as a double-edged sword, because while it can be meaningful inspiration for me to implement in reality, it can also lead to bitter disappointment if these ideals can’t be realised.

However, Ne can cause larger issues than just procrastination. I will envision only negative outcomes to situations, leading to complete inaction. Eventually I lose hope altogether, thinking there’s nothing in the future for me, and reject the world altogether. My mind becomes more narrow, only choosing to stick to very specific situations and trains of thought.

I often turn to external forms such as music to identify my feelings, seeking to find myself within the feelings and expressions of others. I then wish to embody the images I find within the song, in hopes that I can discover my identity that way. This also gives me the opportunity to explore different perspectives, which can often help liberate my typical one-sidedness.

Tertiary Si:

In terms of Si loop, this tends to manifest in the form of craving my childhood back. I wish I could lose the responsibility on my shoulders and just go back to playing imaginary games and being completely oblivious to the world.

I also have a tendency to become closed-minded, immediately shutting out other people’s ideas that don’t “fit” in my own head. I would rather take no action at all than risk making the wrong move, because the regret would just be paralysing. My past experiences tend to drastically influence how I perceive things, and it’s difficult for me to wrap my head around how someone can see things so differently to how I do. As such, I cling onto my perceptions of the world heavily.

INFJ:

Dominant Ni:

I have always been known as an idealist, and someone that lives in my head. My mind was always my escape from the harshness of reality. Ever since I was young, I’ve developed deeply personal mental images and narratives, and purpose has been my driving force. When I was a child, I had myself fully convinced for years that I was a fairy queen doomed to live inside a human husk to test my fortitude for my “kingdom’s” sake. Even now, I always need to have some sort of abstract ideal propelling me forward.

The future has always been my main priority in life. Even if I don’t have a concrete idea of my life’s trajectory, I always know if something does or doesn’t fit into it. Others around me have complimented my insightfulness and my ability to predict what will eventually become of a situation. This can be anything from the plot of a story, to a relationship, generally anything can lead my mind to spiral towards a single-minded prediction.

However, this has been a large source of pain and isolation throughout my life. When I’m at my lowest, I make sweeping generalisations such as “everything is meaningless”, “everyone is so boring”, “every form of media I consume is shallow”. It makes me feel self-conscious, wondering if my expectations are too high, but I can’t seem to let go of my ideals regardless. I’ve been noted as a very detached person, taking my inner world too seriously.

Inferior Se:

The mundane has never interested me. I’ve never taken the world at face value, which does lead to warped perceptions and dashed expectations at times. I honestly tend to look down on those that exhibit more impulsive, hedonistic traits. I’ve been told that I need to “let loose” more, but I just can’t fathom doing that. I don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to be in full control of themselves and their presentation at all times. I can’t envision my life or the world without meaning, and as such, I unconsciously reject anything I deem surface-level or crass. This does tend to overlap with typical Se traits.

However, there are times where I fall into Se traits during stress. I blurt out things I don’t mean to say, hyper-focus on insignificant details to the point that I lose sleep, and indulge myself needlessly in sensory pleasures, such as food, or deliberately delve into more shallow forms of communication, such as social media. A lot of the time, I obsessively seek out people or outside circumstances that prove my personal narrative about a concept, in a way to prove it to both myself and others. I expect and take from the world, but ultimately provide nothing.

Auxilary Fe:

As probably highlighted in my Fi section, I do exhibit some resistant behaviours towards Fe. Generally, any area will come with stereotypes of those that live there, and I don’t fit that mould at all. I’m quiet, prudent and abstract-minded in comparison to what’s expected. It’s a complicated experience for me, because as much as I resist what a lot of common behaviours represent, another part of me wants to beat myself up relentlessly for not fitting in perfectly. I often hope that I’m just viewing people negatively and tarring everyone with the same brush, so I will find my crowd eventually. I have never once rejected the concept of following objective values - if anything, it appeals to me greatly. I just think I have been extremely unlucky with the ones I’m expected to follow. Rather than following a greater purpose or meaningful relationship, I feel stuck in the monotony of my home.

Honestly, my default state is still to go along with everyone else’s wishes and forget my own feelings. It got to the point where I questioned if I could feel at all sometimes, and I’d lose my sense of identity altogether. I can’t bear any kind of conflict and I’m always trying to harmonise with those around me. The resentment I mentioned has only blossomed within the last few months, when I realised that the environment can’t always play to my preferences and strengths. It came to me like a flash of lightning. I often find myself wishing I could “unsee” the issues that led me to this constant frustration, so I could lose myself again and just comply. At least that sort of mindset could be seen as romantic or pitiful - my feelings now are just pure pettiness, and deliberately targeted at those I seek validation from.

I adjust my behaviour quite a bit to suit the emotional atmosphere, both to avoid exposure and to be seen in a positive light. I know what I can and can’t express, maintain etiquette, and try to carry myself well. As well as adjusting, though, I do try to have some sort of influence and warp the atmosphere to suit myself as well. I always strive to be a positive influence on others, and tend to view myself in the light that I want to be seen by the world at large. This is all in the hopes that eventually, I’ll be recognised by everyone as the ideal I’m trying to live up to, and others will follow in my footsteps.

I’m ridiculously sensitive to any form of criticism or rejection, and isolate myself often to protect myself. Any negative comment made towards me, even someone looking at me the wrong way, can completely throw me off and ruin my self-perception. This is amplified tenfold when around new people - I’m extremely self-conscious and try to come across as almost too perfect.

Tertiary Ti:

I see detached analysis as a comfort, in a strange way. The relief that comes with being able to detach and let go of emotional baggage is therapeutic for me. However, when I do use Ti to navigate my emotional life, it tends to take the form of rationalising my feelings, figuring out why I feel a certain way before I can accept it and express it to others. Naturally, this line of thinking extends to how I work around other people’s feelings, too.

However, I believe I can use Ti in an unhealthy manner too. When I detach from the emotional realm too much, this can quickly lead me to a misanthropic and cynical worldview. I tell myself that nobody is worth engaging with because they won’t understand, let alone accept, what’s going on in my head. I flip between desperately wanting to be loved and questioning why, when I can only think negatively of people.

I acknowledge that my logic can be flawed, but it’s hard to grasp that in the moment. It really throws me off when someone points out holes in my logic, though - even if I know I’m wrong deep down, I will often cling to my way of thinking just for the sake of it.

Any insight would be immensely helpful, I hope I followed your instructions well enough. Thanks so much if you read all of this.

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

You're really pulling and stretching at the INFP functions to try to make them fit and even ignoring strong counter-evidence, whereas the INFJ functions are a much more natural fit. You seem to have a long journey of function development ahead of you but I believe Ni+Fe lie at the heart of the project rather than Fi+Ne. As such, I would conclude your type is INFJ with a high degree of confidence.

[catboyaesthetic]

Ironsworn - Part 2.

This story was made with the help of playing Ironsworn by Shawn Tomkin. Please read more about it here.

In Pursuit of Arms

As I step outside, I look around for something resembling a blacksmith, a trader, or anything that might provide me with arms of any sort.

( Gather Information, 3+3 Wits vs. 2 and 0 – Strong Hit! )

I need not search long as the sound of iron being hammered fills the empty streets of Damula. The plume of a forge at work fills the already gray sky with a darker shade of it, and it seems to be the one of the few sources of sound and life within this hollow town. Why the Dead insist on assaulting this place, I don’t know. There seems to be little worth conquering.

I follow the sound along the muddy paths that suck away at my boots and venture over to the blacksmith, where I find a woman working away beneath an awning on an as of yet unremarkable piece of iron. Her work has made her lean, and she swings what I know to be a heavy tool like it’s a stick. Her skin is slick with sweat which glistens with the light of the forge behind her. Blacksmiths are hard and hardy folk, and she is no exception. Her hair is tied back with a headscarf that might once have held colour, but has long since grown dark with soot. Upon my arrival, she is either too involved in her work or cares too little for my presence to look up, and so I clear my throat and call out to her. “Greetings and good tidings to you, noble friend.” The woman continues hammering for a while, then quenches the blade – a touch too early for my personal tastes judging from the glow, but I keep my commentary to myself and merely smile. She pulls it from the water once more and lets it rest before finally turning to me and sizes me up in a way that seems to be something of a cultural staple at this point. “Don’t know you, so I’m not your friend.” She declares while she removes her gloves and sets them on her anvil. The thought strikes me that it seems a poor idea to rest one's sweat-filled gloves on your workspace. Especially as a blacksmith. I raise my hands defensively. “Of course, I don’t mean to claim undue familiarity-“ “Say less, you’ll tie your tongue in knots if you keep yapping like that." She interrupts. "You need something, clearly, so out with it.” I like her. I’m not sure what it is that keeps drawing out the courtier in me. Maybe Hann had more of an influence on me than I thought, and a pit opens in my stomach as I think on him. “Very well,” I say, “I’d like a weapon. You look like you make them. Do you have any?” She folds her arms across her chest and sniffs. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve been working on something special for someone." She pauses for a while. "I don’t think he’s gonna need it any time soon.” “Why?” “He died.” She replies brusquely, her face a mask. ”Fool got himself killed. Should’ve waited until I’d finished what I’d been working on.” Her tone carries something more than just cold judgement. Though I cannot be sure, her voice lingers with grief, and for a moment I feel we are kin. After a moment of searching, she turns back with bundle wrapped in cloth and sizes me up once more. “I’ll warn you, this isn’t as practical or as easy to wield as a spear or an axe. This is a proper weapon of war.” As she draws up the cloth, she reveals a longsword so lovingly crafted, I feel unworthy of wielding it. Despite its basic design, the simplicity of it served to give it an air of elegance rather than a crudeness of form. The crossguard is a simple affair, two prongs pointing outward. But the way they thinned ever so slightly allowed it to serve as a pick. The hilt was covered with black leather and the pommel resembled the waves that crashed against the cliffs nearby. Its balance of decoration and purpose was well-weighted, and I look upon the blacksmith then with fresh respect and admiration. Her ability to restrain herself while still adding art to what was ultimately made to be a tool was nothing short of exemplary, and this work of hers made me believe her talents were wasted, in this hole at the end of the world.

None of this I said to her. It is one of my many regrets. As I held the unveiled sword by the cloth underneath it, I wondered how I was going to pay for it. She must have been able to read it off my face. “Can’t afford it, can you?” She asks, and I hear no pity in her voice. I hear frustration instead, and I think to myself I should have informed her earlier. Still, this is something I need to fulfill my vow, and I turn to the blacksmith. “No. I can’t.” I say, then hand the sword back to her to indicate that I have no intention of stealing it. She takes it, wraps it back up, and we stare at one another for a little while before the silence grows to thick and I speak up once more.

( Compel, 5+3 vs. 6 and 9. – Weak Hit. )

“I need this.” I tell her plainly, “I will do whatever it takes to earn it.” Again, there is that look in her eye. She takes my measure for the third time it seems, and whatever influences her to answer me, I cannot thank them enough for their intervention. “Alright,” she replies without so much as blinking. “You can have it. I’ll even let you have the scabbard that I had made for it.” She turns around and goes to gather the sword and its holder, but before she puts it away, she holds it out to me. Instinct flashes and I move just enough to keep away from the point, stopping myself from stepping in and breaking her arms as my mind catches up with my body to realise she means no harm. If she notices, she does not show it. “I have a condition,” she begins. “I made this for one of my dearest friends.” It visibly pains her to speak of him, and it is obvious she is not used to crying, nor doing so in front of another. “He was a selfless man. Kind. Generous.” Her lips tremble, and her eyes swim with tears. “He taught me the craft and did not envy my ability when I proved to be his better in a matter of months. I made this as thanks for giving me a chance all those years ago. For giving me a home. For-” Her whole face twitches with effort it takes to keep her grief in check. She does not finish the rest of her eulogy. After a moment, she can speak again. Her voice is quiet but filled with anger. The words slip past her clenched teeth like knives. “Swear that you will avenge him. That you will drench this weapon to the hilt with death and gore in his name.” In a quiet voice I am surprised to hear is my own, I ask “What was his name?” “Themon,” she decrees. I feel like a knight within the stories as she hands the blade to me. “And this blade shall be known as The Ire of Themon.” Her eyes burn into me like the forge she works at. She entrusts me with what feels like a holy relic to avenge her. The world blurs and for a moment it is just her and I. “Swear it.” She demands, the façade of divine composure cracks and I see the pain and desperation in her face for a heartbeat. How could I refuse her when I know this depth of loss? I take the sword from the cloth that has held it for so long and nod. “I swear it. Upon the Ire of Themon, to drench this blade in the gore and death of those who took them from you.”

( Swear an Iron Vow. 4+3 Heart vs. 8 and 8. – Miss! )

As I accept, I see the relief wash over her. The tears flow freely but she smiles nonetheless. I don’t know what I’ve done to help relieve this burden by taking it upon myself, but I feel woefully unprepared. Should I not try to put Themon to rest? Perhaps he has joined the Innumerable. What are their rites that ensure they end up in their proper resting places? I fear I have already sank myself too deep in the people of this land. It seems ludicrous to think merely slaying the dead will honor the memory of Themon. To claim I have killed enough after a single individual would feel insulting towards his memory, however technically correct a life for a life might be. I will strive to ask myself after every kill to see if I cannot be guided by the spirit of Themon and see if he is sated. How, I do not know. But I know he will only depart once he will have had enough. It’s strange. I’ve never been one for religion or the spiritual. Yet here I am, seriously considering the satisfaction of a ghost. “Thank you,” the blacksmith says with a softness I did not expect to hear, and I can only nod in response. As I slide the blade inside of its scabbard and tie sword belt to my waist, I wonder what it is that makes these people so trusting. The thought occurs to abandon my vow the moment I make it. That I would never have to see her again and yet gain a tool. I recoil from my own mind and a sense of disgust washes over me. What separates us from beasts if we cannot even keep our word? I look up at the sky and wonder when the sun will set. Or perhaps there is no setting of the sun here. I shrug off the thought. Only time will tell. I give the blacksmith a final glance, then set out into the gray once more.

Trespasser and Treason

As my feet get sucked into the mud beneath with every step, I wonder how feasible it is to keep this vow. I must stay realistic. Sentiment ought not to interfere with my mission. I must stay focused and keep up the search for Lena. I’ve not even been here a day and already I am getting distracted. Perhaps it is best if I set out from here. I can keep my vow to Themon if I slaughter the dead elsewhere. Damula will stand as it has been all this time even without my interference. What difference can one man truly make in the onslaught of the dead? I push away the part of me that balks at such a transgression. Am I not a man of honor? Do I not expect the word of another be kept when I give it? It stings, and yet I cannot indulge myself in every flight of fancy. I am here with a mission. I am here for Lena. In the effort to distract myself from my musings, I look around for a place where I might find further information or supplies.

( Gather Information, 2+3 Wits vs. 5 and 9 – Miss! )

At a glance, there is no leads to be found. It is obvious that what food there is is scarce, and I think no one would be eager to part with it to benefit a stranger. I suck in air through my teeth and consider my options. Theft is always an option. But first I must find a store of it. There is no granary here, there seems to be no collective organization whatsoever to begin with. Having already taken a sword from the blacksmith and not wanting to impose on Kendri, I go to investigate a nearby hovel. No light flickers within, nor does any sound seem to come from it. It seems abandoned for as far as I can tell. I step closer and look inside.

( Gather Information, 2 + 3 Wits vs 5 and 9 – Miss! )

Nothing. Not even the suggestion that food has ever been cooked here remains. By all accounts, it seems no one has lived here for years. The dust is thick and nature has crept back inside. As I watch, I see a pair of small eyes looking back at me. A rodent, one I can’t identify. We share a moment staring at one another before it continues. Perhaps thinking me no threat to its existence. An assumption that might prove to be wrong should hunger ever set in proper. For now, however, it is safe.

I move on and walk to another hovel which seems deserted. It is the same, though the design is slightly altered. I think this one used to have an accommodation to house animals. The rot has long since set in. Time and neglect has been a greater threat to this place than anything else. Still, I glance around for a moment before I set foot within.

( Scavenge, 5+3 Wits vs. 10 and 3 – Weak Hit. ) ( +2 Supply, - 2 Momentum. )

As my eyes get used to the dim light within and I step inside, I hear the ruckus I have caused to the small lives that have since taken up residence. A family rodents scurry away, with one rat-looking thing staring at me defiantly before it decides to leave with the others. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought to have seen accusation within those little eyes. But they are no concern of mine. As quietly as I can as not to draw attention to myself, I begin to rummage through the dust-covered interior. Some baskets remain, chewed open by the current residents no doubt. But as I think to move on, I catch a glimpse of something. I find myself suddenly in possession of a ham. Salted to the brink and back, to be sure, but a ham all the same. The thought strikes me that perhaps this may once have been part of one of the animals they kept here. A grim thought, and one I don’t linger on. I find myself compelled to thank the long since departed beast who will feed me for a good while yet and look around to find something to wrap it in. There is nothing clean, but I find a piece of scrap linen and a simple disheveled linen satchel in which I can carry it. Like most everything here, it has holes in it. But the damage is minimal enough that it will do in a pinch, and it is a pinch I find myself in. I look around for a while longer and find nothing of immediate use. As I make to leave, my eye falls upon something glistening from the dim light of the doorway. Tucked away in a corner of the hovel lies an amulet and the remains of the piece of leather that served to turn it into a necklace. It is an intricately carved wooden idol of some kind, a warrior, clad in armour and a helmet, with his spear at the ready. If I am to believe the common conventions of religious imagery, I don’t think I would be remiss in assuming this is some kind of talisman meant to bring fortune in battle or war. Perhaps it is meant to represent some kind of god or spirit. As I turn it over in the dim light of the room, I find myself unable to put it back down. I put it in the satchel absently and turn to leave the house, feeling as I have taken and trespassed enough.

As I walk around the town, something pulls at my attention. I find it difficult to think with my mind continuously returning to the talisman within my satchel. My mind tumbles over several questions. Is it a ward of some kind? It seems likely, given that things that ought to be feared are likely not worn. But then, what does it ward? Who does it serve? By what forces does it function? Questions ebb and flow, with answers nowhere to be found. Before I know it, the darkness has set in. The sun – what little presence it has – vanishes beneath the horizon within minutes, and soon the only light that remains are torchlight. Within this vast abyss of darkness there are only flickers of light scattered around Damula. Only now does it truly sink in just how empty this place is. How many hovels are devoid of life. How few lives remain here, in what feels like the end of the world. I’m unsure whether it’s foolhardiness or hope that keeps these people here. But I suppose one does not exclude the other.

As I make my way back to Kendri’s Rest in hopes of finding a place to sleep or at least rest somewhat comfortably, I notice there are no walls around Damula. A fact that has been stored in the back of my mind for what feels like forever, yet as the dark presses in and the chill creeps up my spine, I find it leaves me vulnerable. Furthermore, there seems to be no watch tower, no guard post. No guards. Tension slips into my steps. My hackles rise to some unseen – or imagined – threat and I take a moment amidst the darkness to look around. Despite the moon, there is nothing I can make out past the reach of a pike. But is that a sound I hear whispering on the wind? No, I’m imagining things.

( Enter the Fray, 3 + 3 Wits vs 9 and 5 – Weak Hit. )

I duck as I hear a familiar whistle and weave away from a sword swung my way. My heart beats in my chest and my feet sink into an all too familiar stance of their own accord. With one fluid motion, I pull the sword from the scabbard, jerking it backwards and slash towards where I believed the strike came from.

( Strike, 6 + 4 Iron, vs 10 and 5  – Weak Hit )

The steel connects, biting flesh. My eyes grow wide with horror and my heart sinks into my stomach as I hear an all too human cry and realize that in my haste, I have struck out at a Damulan. I see him dimly now, outlined in the dark. His face is unreadable, but his body betrays his intent. Before I can speak, he strikes and I am forced to respond in kind.

( Clash, 1 + 4 Iron, vs 3 and 5 – Weak Hit )

I was not trained to take half-measures. He swings wide and I find the block and riposte as if he were a practice dummy. I cannot stop myself from striking. Even as I know doing so means causing harm the people here, I cannot help myself like the lion cannot remove his claws. My hands move without thought and again, I strike. A cut that would have been marked as exemplary now carves a piece out of one of the few lives that remain in Damula. Again, my foe strikes before I can bid him stop.

( Clash, 2 + 4 Iron vs 1 and 7 – Weak Hit )

(End the Fight, 8 vs 5 and 8 – Weak Hit.  Enemy #1 perishes. Another foe appears. )

He is relentless in his assault. Whether in rage or in desperation he throws himself at me. His crude swing does not even come close to threatening me as I simply step aside, and skewer him in the wake of his failed strike. He gurgles something unintelligible in surprise, clings to my sword and I do him the only kindness I can by ending him quickly. He does not deserve to suffer for my mistakes, my shortcomings. I withdraw my sword and try to gather my bearings determining who – or what – it is I was facing.

( Enter the Fray, 6 + 3 Heart vs 1 and 7 – Strong Hit! )

Another foe announces himself with a wrathful cry, and my hands work of their own accord to interpose my blade.

( Strike, 4 + 4 Iron, vs 6 and 10 – Weak Hit. )

From the Ochs guard I thrust forward to provoke him into motion, and he startles, unable to see the follow-up strike coming. I rotate the sword into a powerful diagonal strike with the momentum and feel flesh give way. Sometimes I curse these hands of mine. So keen to deal death. So eager for blood.

( Clash, 5 + 4 Iron, vs 6 and 8 – Strong Hit! )

He strikes once more and I find that this one is more reserved, but still unpolished. He finds my blade blocking his, and barely a heartbeat later, it bites away at his forearm. Even within the cover of dark I can see the first cut against him slowly darken his tunic with a growing pool of blood – grey in this lack of light.

( Strike, 5 + 4 Iron vs 10 and 8 – Weak Hit. )

He reels from pain and he leaves himself open for another assault. I step in and cut at his head which he narrowly avoids, but my sword still finds a mark along his shoulder and he lets out a cry of pain. It is the sound of a man who knows that he is outmatched. Who knows death awaits him. Who knows I am his end.

( End the Fight, 9 vs 8 and 8 – Strong Hit! )

The beginning of a plea of mercy dies on his lips as his head as hewed from his body. I enter a high guard in preparation for another assault as his head hits the mud with a wet thud, but my surroundings stay silent. There is some shuffling and scraping of chairs a little ways away, and some voices go from being muffled from being inside to loud calls outside.

( Secure an Advantage, 3 + 2 Shadow vs 7 and 1 – Weak Hit. )

I know what this’ll look like. They will likely not accept the explanation. To them, I will only be a murderer. Perhaps I am. I wipe my blade clean in a hurry and swiftly sheathe it before fleeing. There is no crowd to vanish into and subsequently no need to look inconspicuous. I will be suspicious simply by being alive in this town no matter what happens or what I say. The dawn will not be kind to me. If the dead assault Damula today, they will not find me among their ranks. I must go. I must go. But where? No matter. The voices grow louder and the streets are too wide and too open to hide well. I have to get out of the open, behind a wall, anywhere but here. My feet carry me onward, ever onward, until at last I am beyond the outskirts and in the darkness proper. I carry onwards, spurred on by the need to leave, away from the consequences of my actions. I cannot outrun them forever. But it’s worked so far.

I keep walking and find the island far smaller than I had hoped it to be. Perhaps it is my conscience catching up to me or the sense of the hounds at my heels. But salvation comes in the shape of a boat tied to a tree at the edge of the island. I don’t know if I’ve been walking for minutes or for hours, but I do know that I return to the world of the living once the boat comes into view. I take off my sword belt and satchel and lay it into the boat before hoisting myself in and using the paddle that had been laying within to lead myself into more open waters. I hear no one in my wake and yet I still feel as if the hounds could be upon me at any moment. I have not looked back since I fled from Damula. I hope never to return. I unfurl the sail and set it into the wind and let it carry me from my latest sins. I have memorized a map of this land but I don’t recognize the stars in this place. Thus, I cannot lead myself north. It seems I am well and truly lost. No matter. The sun will show me where the north is come morning. Until then, I'll try to rest. But sleep does not come.

[jeffgrant4real]

My Barbenheimer Experience

(I don’t think there are any spoilers here, just basic thoughts on the movies)

Saturday, July 22, 2023  7:23 PM

I guess I feel the need to type “Barbenheimer” even more this weekend so I figured I’d recap my busy Friday at the movies. It was definitely an experience and people need to know this information. Yes, this is important. 

WELL, I’m on the internet so I was aware of the Barbenheimer meme phenomenon and knew I’d see both movies at some point but didn’t make any plans until my friend BJ texted a week or 2 ago asking if I’d want to join he and 1 or 2 other people for the movie event of the year. It doesn’t take much to get me to watch movies so I said I was down. We got our tickets for a 10:45 showing of Oppenheimer on one of the XD screens at Tinseltown in Grapevine followed by Barbie at 5:30. Cool. 

So Friday rolls around and I drive the half hour over to the theater, which I don’t go to often these days but it was the main place I saw movies at in high school so it always makes me think of the late 90s when I go back. I remember Friday nights and teenagers driving fancy cars their parents bought them. #memories Anyway…

I met up with BJ in the lobby as he waited for his friend Michael. I got a large popcorn and a bottled water, my usual lately. I found our seats and went for a successful pee and sat back down like 30 seconds before the movie started. Now, to be clear I think all I knew about Oppenheimer, the actual person, was that he was the father of the atomic bomb. I was more going to see the new Christopher Nolan movie than because I’m a history buff but I was glad to have a chance to learn more. 

The screen was gigantic, like 3 or 4 stories high, and the filmmaking and acting were top notch but there was more talking than I expected and for some reason I kept losing focus and just blanking out for whole scenes, which of course were important to remember later, so I kept feeling like it was going over my head. I think I’m going through a sort of personal Christopher Nolan existential crisis where I can’t tell if I’m a fan anymore. I respect and admire his ambition but I’ve been having a difficult time hooking into the stories in his movies. I think maybe he’s smarter than me and I feel kinda dumb. Yesterday, I kept telling myself that it was an important story and that I should pay attention better but I just couldn’t chill out and enjoy the movie like a normal person. Maybe I was thinking too much about how I was going to watch another movie afterwards, I’m not sure. I just know that as the movie kept going I got noticeably sleepier, which doesn’t typically happen with me at movies. Like I kinda wanted to take a nap even though I got decent sleep the night before. 

All this to say I had a pretty lukewarm feeling about the movie by the end of it, which I’m pretty sure isn’t the normal response; most seem to be blown away by it. I’m seriously not sure what my deal is because I think it was a good movie and I’d recommend it, but I was just sorta bored if I’m being honest. I’m sure it’ll be nominated for Best Picture later and maybe I’ll revisit it but I just wasn’t feeling it much on the first viewing. 

Anyway, after it was over we walked out and the other 2 seemed more positive than I was. We had 3 hours to kill before Barbie and Michael went home so I hung out with BJ. We went to his house where his wife and 2 of his daughters were and it was hilarious to me that we were leaving them soon after to go watch Barbie with 2 other dudes (a 4th, Codey, joined us). 

If you asked me before we went which of the 2 movies I was looking forward to the most it would 1,000 times be Barbie. I’m a big fan of Greta Gerwig’s previous 2 movies Lady Bird and Little Women and was excited to see what she would do with a giant Hollywood movie. I don’t have much of a connection to Barbie as a toy but it’s an interesting pop cultural thing to play around with and the trailers and promotional material made it look like a blast. Also, her partner Noah Baumbach co-wrote the script with her, and he’s a director I enjoy, as well as his writing collaborations with Wes Anderson, (The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and Fantastic Mr. Fox) so Barbie has been in the “stick it in my veins”-zone for me for a while. 

Anyway, I was disappointed with one thing going in. Where we got to see Oppenheimer on a gigantic screen, Barbie was playing in one of those older, longer auditoriums and we were sitting near the back so the screen was maybe 8 times tinier. I knew the movie was going to be dynamite visually so I wished we could’ve been closer to the screen (maybe I’ll see it again just for that reason). I didn’t mention this earlier but ALL DAY LONG we were passing by groups of people dressed in pink and it seemed like over half the people in our screening were outfitted for the movie, which added a fun extra layer to the experience. BJ and I thought about going to Target between the movies to get pink shirts but didn’t make it. 

I thought the movie was incredibly entertaining and creative and super weird for a big studio tentpole, which made me like it even more. I don’t know how Gerwig got away with so much of what happened. I can see a lot of people not enjoying it, but I admired how boldly it was its own thing; it felt very punk rock for a movie that’s going to make boatloads of dollars. It reminded me of The LEGO Movie in how it used the IP in a fresh way and made an actual good movie out of a film that was probably put into production mainly to sell toys. The most impressive parts of Barbie to me were clearly the production design and the performances. I couldn’t believe how cool the sets and props looked and Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling could seriously, weirdly be nominated for Oscars for playing these toys. 

More than anything the movie reminded me of things like The Brady Bunch Movie in how it took a beloved, if dated, property and honored it while also satirizing what it stands for. I remember seeing that movie in the 90s when it came out and not getting it and thinking it wasn’t very good, but I rewatched it a few years ago and thought it was hilarious. Heh. 

If you haven’t seen Gerwig talk about the movie’s inspirations they’re pretty interesting. She’s cited The Wizard of Oz, The Truman Show, Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Singin’ in the Rain, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Rear Window and many others as references. It’s fun to think of the movie leading young, emerging cinephiles to some true classics. 

I’m glad I was able to see both movies on the same day and fulfill the meme but it was honestly a LOT and I don’t think I processed either one especially well. This was a special movie day though and I’m happy I got to participate. I think that’s about it. Thanks for reading.

SUBLIME!

[crazybigredlove]

16th August 2013

Dear Pete, 

Sitting in a cafe this evening, okay it was a Starbucks again, and yes, I have become one of those pretentious types who sit in those places with their laptops and their books, pretending to be grossly engaged in whatever work lies before me but really just checking out every else in the room and wondering if someone will link with me on Tinder... 

Kidding! I'm not even on Tinder. Yet. Wait, where was I? 

While not browsing Tinder I overheard a discussion between three women my age. Eavesdropping is such a nasty word so let's not go labelling it as such, seeing it wasn't a sinister thing I was doing. They were all dressed up, hair and nails done to perfection, make-up expertly applied and wearing the black corporate uniform of the professional woman. They sat there gossiping like a group of excited schoolgirls rather than the upper class businesswomen they clearly were; that was always going to whet my curiosity. One of the women had a date later tonight with a man she had clearly been fantasising about for some time and who, at least it seemed from the comfort of my bucket chair, had only recently begun to notice she was a bit of a catch. 

As I sat there, sipping on a tepid latte and eating each and every moderately delicious morsel of a dry slice of chocolate cake with cream (please don't tell Jimmy. As far as he knows I'm on some thirty-day paleo challenge. Seriously, in which culture would thirty days of organic produce be considered a reasonable idea?? I'm pretty sure if the option had been there in the paleo era to eat pizza people would have), I realised I was sneering at them. It had nothing to do with the fact that they looked like they could eat their cake without having to put in hours on the treadmill later (though if we're being honest I was feeling a slight resentment towards them for that too, but I can whole-heartedly assure you that that wasn't the motivator for the sneer. Well not the main one anyway). 

I've never had a poker face. Not in any sense. That's why whenever we got caught doing something your parents always zoned in on me for answers. I didn't even have to say anything, they just asked a question and watched my face. Every little feeling, each emotion, it's right there. It's also part of the reason I am so exceptionally gifted at making a fool of myself and I suck at card games. 

Catching myself with that look, I stopped to question what it was that was making me scrunch my face up in a manner that was so grossly unattractive. 

I date a lot. I'm learning that. I didn't think that I did, but my friends have been dropping that crumb of information into the conversation quite regularly lately. Even Kylie, whilst we were at dinner at Jamie's, she mentioned that she thought she'd never had as many dates in her life as I had during the last six months. At the time I just chuckled along with everyone else, but now, in hindsight, I am starting to see the ridiculousness of my endeavours, and questioning why it is that I always seem to bolt from one heartache to the next at breakneck pace. There was barely a moment to breathe between The Czech and PT Patrick. Even now, it's been only several months since PT Patrick and I still let myself go crazy over Big Red. 

Well, not crazy. And I did dump him. Which counts. But I was definitely prepared to throw my all into it before I really knew him and I found myself growing attached to him before I'd even let him stay the night. 

How can one girl really fall that often? 

First dates, now they are my specialty. They're like an addictive drug, luring you in with the adrenaline rush, the promise of happiness, the possibility of finding something incredibly special and rare. Believe me on that point, it is rare. Second and third dates with me? Well, they're more difficult to come by. Without giving them the mythical status of a unicorn or your brother's virginity, they really aren't that far off. The first date is fun because it can go either way. Anything and everything can happen. The big drawcard of the first date, more so than potentially meeting your soul mate, is that even if the person turns out to be your idea of hell on earth, it's still early enough in the game that you can send a text the next day and it's done. 

Over like it never happened. Everybody carry on calmly. Nothing to see here. But there I was screwing up my face all the same. 

The truth is, I don't understand that excitement at all. While I may have prattled on to you, and everyone else who would listen, about the fact that I had a date, I don't exactly approach them with the conviction of a bride-to-be. There is no rushing around doing hair and make-up, or spending hours talking and shopping with friends ensuring that the perfect ensemble is created. You've seen it. Beyond running a straightener or curling iron through my hair twenty minutes before it's time to meet, there isn't a production. I might stress beforehand about what I'm going to wear, but typically I throw on whichever shirt is lying closest to my jeans on the floor, I slide into the heels that clash the least, and I am out the door. Do you remember that first date that Sailor Brad took me on? He wanted to go to that rather expensive restaurant for dinner and instead of being flattered and impressed it was enough to earn him a strike in my book because it meant jeans weren't an option. My extreme apathy actually makes me high maintenance rather than low-key. Like a hispter without the cool. 

Listening to them it was hard not to knowingly chuckle at their naivety and misplaced excitement, except that somewhere deep down there was a minute chance that there was some jealousy regarding that girlish enthusiasm and the fact that I couldn't relate to it. 

Thoughts of whether her date is working out have randomly popped into my head since she left the cafe several hours ago and I find myself really hoping that it does. Dating and the expectations and hope that go along with it are some of the most surreal and vulnerable feelings in the world, but if they call and say to me that they want to hang out again that is an amazing feeling and it makes it completely worth it. On the off-chance that feeling ever happens to me again and I get the opportunity of a first, second, or third date, I'm going to do exactly what those girls did. I'm going to do my hair properly; I'm going to keep the jeans on the clothes room - ahem, spare room - floor and throw on one of those hundreds of dresses I own; and I'm going to allow myself to get excited about hanging out with a cool person - even if he does turn out to be someone who swears like a sailor and drives like a madman. I'm not going to gently suggest that he might not see me again, or find ways to work into the conversation how different we are. Instead, I'm going to stay relaxed and enjoy how nice it is to hang out with a man who makes me laugh, who is sexy, and who is happy to just hang out with me. 

Mostly though I think that if I ever feel that way again I'll just remind myself how nice it will be to be on a date with the guy who does want that fourth date. 

As for me, my phone stayed silent today and I didn't even care. Why would I when tomorrow I have Christopher to sit with me and eat Thai food while watching old episodes of Scrubs and pretending that the drunken sexcapade never happened? 

Turns out one out of three can be enough to make me happy. Maybe the job and the relationship will come later. 

Liv x