#like we couldnt even get the final truth bomb?

[mangosrar]

i haven’t heard from you since.

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

idk if i specified but they’re in a relationship and have been for like 3 years!!

also hey y’all i disappeared for a while but i’m back 😛and i’m currently trying to get through the requests so be ready 😈love y’all. bee ❤️‍🩹

how had it become like this? it seemed so unbelievable that there was a point in yoir life where you thought you were going to marry him, have children, and grow old together. if someone would have told you three years ago that you would both end up like this you would have laughed in their face. he used to be so sweet, so passionate about you, but now that couldnt be further from the truth.

you werent really sure when the change happened, or why it happened maybe a little after your birthday, maybe before. of course you knew people grow apart but this wasnt growth. this was borderline misery. the constant fighting, the days of ignoring one another, the nights where chris would come home at 2am and not say a word to you after you had been waiting up for him, it was nothing short of torture.

but still every single time, both of you just let it blow over, waiting until the next bomb went off, but the long lasting was lasting a little too long.

"oh please, like you were actually worries" he scoffed, taking his hat off and throwing it on the kitchen table.

"you stormed out on me, you didnt even tell me where you were, youve been gone for 5 hours and you stroll in at almost 3am expecting me to be cool about it? what fucking planet are you living on" you said staring at him.

he didnt even reply he just shook his head, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, keeping his eyes trained to the floor. a moment of silence passed as you waited for him to say something, anything, and finally he took a deep breath in and pulled his eyes up to meet yours.

"maybe i just dont wanna fucking be around you" his voice was quiet and soft, a stark contrast to the sharpness of his words. his expression was stoic and completely unreadable.

he watched the colour drain from your face, as he did every time he would bark an insult at you. a small part of him felt nothing but pure joy to know that he had the power to completely crush you, like when murderers say they feel no remorse for the people theyve killed, but another small part of him was bleeding, a self-inflicted stinging, like a pain he had never felt before.

"you know what chris, day by day i realize everything i miss about you was never there in the first place, the person i fell in love with was a fucking mirage." your words were dripping with venom. his face faltered for a second, momentarily letting the mask slip, and the pain your words were causing him beginning to slip out.

"you dont mean that" he looked like he was about to burst into tears, and it made your mouth run dry.

you tried so hard to keep it together, but the tears that had gathered in your waterline threatened to spill with every single Shakey breath you took. there was a pregnant pause and the effect of your words hung in the air. chris stared at you intensely and you let your eyes rest anywhere but on him, you couldnt look at him, at the chance of seeing him with watery eyes and a wobbly lip might make you fall at his feet once more.

you took a deep breath before eventually meeting his gaze and beginning to talk.

"i dont know why things changed chris.... but one day i woke up and we no longer spoke the same language, and i havent heard from you since" chris watched every time as he crushed you, but now as he took your place, standing there with his hands by his sides, mouth hanging open, taking rapid breaths, in and out, while trying not to cry, he felt as though you had murdered him.

"that doesnt mean i dont love you y/n, we can work through this, weve done it before, ill be better i promise i will" he spoke with a wobbly voice.

the tears were now full force streaming down your face. he stood there across the kitchen with wide eyes, trying to think of how to come back from this, but there was something about the way you opened your mouth to speak again, that told him there wasnt.

"i cant relax around you chris, if i relaxed my body now, id fall apart. if i relaxed for a fucking second, id never find my way back. why cant you see that?" you paused for a moment and shook your head at him in disbelief. "why cant you see that you are tearing me limb for limb when i have done nothing but love you? why cant you understand that i have poured all of my heart and soul onto you to try and wash away whatever it is thats made you like this and you are throwing it back in my face? i mean when will this fucking end?" you were yelling and you hadnt even realized you had made your way over to him and were now standing less than a foot away.

"y/n please, dont do this. ill get my shit together and ill be better because i love you" he looked at you with pleading eyes as he spoke, reaching out to grab your hand, but when you pulled away before he even got the chance to even feel your skin on his, it was like he had died right there in that second.

"do you?" you whispered, swallowing thickly, desperately trying to stop the floodgates from opening more.

chriss face was wet with tears as he stared down at you sniffling. he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. he was completely gob smacked. he never thought it would get to this point. but as your eyes bored into his, wordlessly begging him to say something that would fix this, he felt as though the earth was crumbling beneath his feet.

his silence gave you all the answers that you needed, so with that you turned around and walked away, and the sound of his broken voice calling your name, spoke volumes.

he knew it was over, he knew that you were about to go upstairs and pack your bags and walk out the door, but he didnt do a thing to try and stop you, he knew he wouldnt be able to fix this even if he tried, so he watched you walk away, and the second you were out of sight, he fell to his knees, clutching his chest like he was dying and letting out sob after sob, like it would mend all damage he had done.

in the next room, you were frantically trying to keep your self control. the urge to walk back in there and wipe his tear-stained cheeks and kiss his broken heart better was paralyzing. the sound of him wailing and weeping was soul crushing, but this had to be done, one of you had to be strong enough to walk away.

you knew he would leave such an imprint on you, he had left such severe claw marks that anyone you even entertained after chris, would have to know him in order to understand you, and that might have been the worst fucking part.

—————————————-—————————————

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @soursturniolo @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000 @nickdevora @gwenlore @sturnioloenthusiast

[inquisitoradaar]

feel like i need to elaborate on musics love shape. long post ahead bc god there is so much explaining that needs to be done here. the situation is Intricate and Dire. also spoilers for balding gate or whatever

i went in without any idea who i was gonna romance but then i met gale and was like ok. i think this is the guy. and had made up my mind on it until wylls introduction where i was like oh fuck hes so hot but i couldnt change my mind id already promised myself id romance gale.

anyways. the party ends up being music + shadowheart + gale + wyll for a while. this is not because of preference but bc i literally managed to miss astarion (i went to the bottom of the hill hes on and then said out loud to myself 'nothing else here' and went back in the nautiloid.) and lae'zel (saw the two tieflings that caught her but didnt see the cage and decided to avoid conflict). i eventually swap out shadowheart for karlach when i meet her (it was besties at first sight for me) and then get told by some friends who r also playing that im a fucking dumbass and completely missed astarion and lae'zel (id already saved the grove by this point so LMAO)

i go back to the crash site, grab astarion, then use a scroll of revivify on lae'zel bc shes dead in the mountain pass (whoops). theyve both missed literally everything. i go to camp and astarion immediately reveals to music that he is a vampire. awesome. theyre also both charlatans which is a lil funny to me. i add neither of them to my party bc by this point im extremely attached to gale wyll and karlach and music has rlly high approval w all three of them.

now in truth the love shape was already in the equation bc gale is still not over mystra. music is unclear as to whether or not this affection is still reciprocated on mystras part (and tbh so am i . i havent finished act 2 yet ok) but when they shared a Moment in the weave gale enjoyed it so clearly thats also happening. so we have a love triangle going on. this is fine and manageable even if music is not a big fan of the whole the-guy-im-into-has-a-bomb-in-his-chest-bc-of-his-ex-who-he-still-loves thing.

we get to the underdark. i have a long rest. astarion has smth to say. in-game it has been two days since i finally grabbed him from the crash site (has he just been waiting that entire time for someone to walk down that path so he could stab them?). cutscene plays out, he wants music to tell him hes pretty, music responds w 'gales more my type', and astarion makes a comment abt how hell have to work on himself if hes to 'catch up w the competition' um?

so the love triangle is now a sort-of love square. could be just a lil silly fun joke and i think of it as such (at least when ignoring the meta (thats another story)) until i get to act 2 and have a long rest in the shadow-cursed lands. and astarion says to music smth like 'were kindred souls, were walking down the same path, we should take over the absolutist cult and rule the world together' WHAT IS HAPPENING. what coded declaration of love bullshit is this. music and astarion barely even know each other.

so, great, love triangle is now officially a partially unreciprocated love square. but then. but THEN. to make matters WORSE for ME PERSONALLY. having another long rest in the shadow-cursed lands and a cutscene starts to play. wyll is dancing and so music joins in (naturally, theyre best friends w wyll (literally, they have maximum approval from him) and a BARD) and then things start getting. quote. "intimate" and i go oh no i have to put a stop to this bc things have started getting more serious w gale. and when i tell wyll that they should both step away from this he looked so genuinely heartbroken it made me feel so horrifically sad.

so the partially unreciprocated love square is now. even worse. a love shape of no real design. with music, some random loser tiefling bard charlatan in the middle of it all. gods help them

[nebulaedaniel]

16.6.2018 - matinee experience

I met dan and phil and here’s how my whole day went

I woke up at 5:30 AM on Saturday morning. It would take me about 2 and a half hours to get to Stockholm, so i had to wake up early. My dad and i got in our car at 6:20 AM and started driving to the city nearby to be able to get on the train. I was really nervous so i didnt sleep in the car, even though i usually do.

We arrive in the city, eventually get on the train, and we’re officially on our way.

I was still really nervous so i decided to watch the video that they uploaded that previous day. I watched it and couldnt believe that i was going to meet them in just a few hours.

My dad and i arrived at around 9, and the venue was right outside the train station, so my dad wanted us to go there right away.

I thought we’d be the first ones there, but we werent! There was one more person there, and they had blue hair so ofc i was too intimidated to talk to them.

So we’re standing there, im furiously texting all my friends to tell them that im Actually freaking out. More people showed up and suddenly we were six people there.

Cabs are coming and going, and suddenly the people sitting on benches are reacting to one of the cars, but i didnt pay it any mind. But then everyone is lowkey screaming and panicking and i have no idea what’s happening, but then the blue haired person made eye contact with me and pointed behind me, so i turn around, and there they were? I didnt see them walk out of the car, but they were walking in and i. Started. Shaking. It was bad. I was writing to annie (@nuclear-clusterhug) and the gc i was in for ii, just yelling at all of them that i saw them!!

Just in case you were curious, they’re even gorgeous from the back.

So im standing there, i can barely speak and im pretty sure my dad was judging me but i really didnt care.

Eventually one of the people from the gc made it to the venue, and i finally had someone to freak out with.

I have no idea how long we stood there, maybe half an hour, the two other people showed up aswell, and now we were a little group just huddled together and waiting to be let inside.

Eventually they opened. We walked in. We got wristbands and i got the number 38, not that it mattered, but it did to me.

We went in, my friend and i were both freaking out. Eventually we went upstairs, we stood in line, and every minute felt like days. Their manager eventually explained what was going to happen, and then, a few minutes later, they arrived. They went up the stairs and dan looked so excited, i didnt hear a word what they said, but i filmed it and i have it.

They went back behind the screen and the first person goes in. We wait in line for maybe 20 minutes, although it felt like 5, and then. Its. Our. Turn.

My friend goes first and i film for her. We turn the corner and there they are. I see phil first and my god is he beautiful. My friend goes to hug them and i stand off to the side to film them and just look at them for 30 whole seconds. I have it all filmed and i cant believe it.

Then. Its my turn. And. I. Freeze. I dont say ANYTHING im so freaked out. I go to hug phil first and i just remember it being soft, then i hug dan and he was even softer like fuck his jumper was so soft.

Phil asks if i want anything signed, i hand over my book and they have it signed in 5 seconds.

But this. This moment is what will stick with me forever. I had written in my book “what’s your favorite thing about sweden” and dan wrote (it was dan, i watched the video of me meeting them like 20 times and dan. Wrote. It.) “you!”

You!

He wrote. “you!”

Im not. Okay.

Okay. So. Yes. That happend. Its in my book forever.

Phil then asked if i wanted a selfie.

Can i just say that phils voice is the softest thing ever when meeting fans, remember when phil was talking to the corgi in the dog video? And he said “do you like your hoodie?”? That kind of soft.

Anyway, so we took the selfie, phil was just like hiding behind me?? Cute

Dan did two poses and i was so overwhelmed i saw his dimples just a few decimeters away from me?? Unreal

I then left, almost forgot my book so that was fun.

We got our tote bags and then we left the venue

We sat outside for maybe 40 minutes, just internalizing that it happened. We had met them.

I eventually went to eat, then i got messages from natalie (@fanpurple) and she asked me where i was, so i hurried off to go to her

I got in line, and suddenly i was inside again.

Then, i met natalie. She was the smallest little person and she was so cute! She seemed so excited and that made me even more excited because oh my god! I met dnp and now i met my amazing friend?? I was so happy

We went to the official waiting area and got in line for the merch, and while we were waiting she was asking me all about how it was to meet them and i was more than happy to tell her EVERYTHING.

I got my stuff (poster, cap, hoodie) and we walked off to sit down, i showed natalie everything that i had gotten in the tote bag, and she went through my tabinof. While she was reading i was just sitting there, so happy that everything was going so well. It was the first time since… I dont know when, that i didnt have a single bad thought on my mind, you have no idea how amazing that felt.

Im not going to talk too much about the show, since this is already so long, but i do want to say that i was on the first row and phil kept walking and he was just a few meters away from me.

I must also say that videos do not do them justice, they’re 100 times more handsome in real life. i might have actually died from how fucking hoT phil is

The show goes on, im laughing im screaming im clapping, and i was just having a gooood timeeee.

One thing that i HAVE to mention tho, is the truth bombs thing.

One of the questions was “what would a documentary about their lives be called?” and as i was watching them i was just thinking like hmm i wonder what i wrote for that thing?

They start putting up things on screen.

“how my stalker became my best friend”

“why are we even doing this?” (or smt similar to that)

Then. The last one. Was. Mine.

“two dudes sittin on a sofa”

WHAT??? DID THAT HAPPENED?? yes. Yes it did. They didnt choose mine but i really dont fucking care because mine was up there. Phil said my name.

Natalie got to answer the question about what was in the box, she said butterfly, so adorable

There’s alot more. Like alot more. Ive written down everything on a document in my phone. But that were the highlights from the show.

i got home at 11pm, and the next day i was so sore from walking around and wearing my heavy backpack for a whole day, but that really doesnt matter, im too happy, im still too happy its been three days and im still soooo happyyy

thanks for reading, if anyone did

[taeyongnakamoto]

EXO: Mafia (chapter 1)

 ‘You are so boring! Please lets go out tonight’, 

‘No im not, I’m just-’, 

you were cut of by your best friend: 'Look, I know it must be really hard to accept, that he isn’t there for you anymore-’, 

'He is! I know it!’, this time you were the one who interrupted the other. Your best friend gave you a please-not-again-look and sighed. 

'It has been three years since that, I know its still hard for you, but you must get over his death! I really don’t want to sound mean, but i can’t take your sadness anymore, it breaks my heart literally.’

You gave her an incredible look, it was the first time, the really first time, when your best friend spoke the alleged death of your brother out.

 She noticed your face impression and looked guilty while speaking: 'I just mean that he wouldn’t want you to suffer because of him, let him go, let him his long deserved peace…’

'He is not dead, Yoona’, you said seriously,

'How you know? Even the police confirmed it. It has been all over the news after all…’ she said.

You struggled with the thoughts whether you should tell her or not, while staring on your hands.

'Tell me’, she said, 'I know you want to tell me something, i feel it. So go ahead and say it.’

That was indeed the truth, you really wanted to tell her everything you know. Because without her you couldn’t put all the puzzles together, to find out about what was really going on. The fact, however, was that you weren’t allowed to.

'I can’t, I promised him’ you said quietly.

'Who?’ Yoona asked, nearly angry.

'Him!’ you said, 'Junmyeon!’

Her eyes widened: 'What the hell are you talking about?’

'Please Yoona dont get me wrong, I really cant tell you anything.’

She looked straight into your eyes for about about 10 sekonds. Then she nodded 'Well i guess you dont need me at all then’, when she stood up to leave your room, your heart dropped. You hated seeing her offended, especially when it was your fault. You closed your eyes and said 'wait’, she turned around, 'sit down and promise me that you will keep it to yourself. Dont tell anyone especially mom and dad. Im only telling you this, because you are my only best friend and i never had a better one. 

'She smiled 'Of course i wont tell anyone, so, what is it?’ 'He calls me once a month, to check if i was alright’ you said.

 Yoona’s eyes widened 'your joking!?’

 'Why would I joke about such things, huh?’ You could tell that Yoona’s brain was working at hundred percent, she probably didnt know which question to ask first.

 'Is he alright?’ She asked and you nodded.

 'Then,…. then why are you so sad every day, when you know that he is alright?’

 You stared at your hands again, to be honest you didnt know the right answer yourself. Maybe its because you havent seen him for three years now. You dont even know what he is doing or where he is right now. In fact all you knew is, that he was alright. Alright wasnt really a yes tho, so you still were worried about him. Every day, every night you were worrying. And the fact that you can’t talk with anyone about it made it even worse. Not even your mom and dad knew about it. And they were the people you wanted to tell the most about it.

 'What did he tell you, why cant you tell your parents about it, why is he pretending to be dead, why on earth did the police confirm his death, when they probably dont even have his dead body and why was his death all about the news? I mean everyone knows your parents but why was it on tv when its not true? God.. i bet it was really hard seeing your parents crying and beeing sad about his dead, while knowing that actually he was alive…’ Yoona bombed you with questions which you couldnt even answer. 

'Well..’ you started, 'he just said that i shouldnt worry and that he was alright. When i asked him where he was and what he was doing, he said that the less i know the saver i am. And when i asked him why he left us he said that it was too dangerous for us, if he staid. Also he said that he got too deep in some things and now he has to manage to get things go well again-’ your voice broke up. Telling this felt right and wrong at the same time. Your eyes were filled with tears now, 'Im so confused Yoona, … when i asked him if i could help him in any way, he said that not telling anyone about the truth was the best help. And that in fact it wasnt planed for me to know it either. He just couldnt take knowing that im crying about his alleged death. Thats the only reason he told me.' 

You were crying now, 'I told him that if he ever should be needed in help, im here for him.’

Yoona came closer and hugged you 'The only thing that matters is, that he is alright. But…' 

'What?’ you asked looking at her now.

'I don’t know, im really not sure but for me it sounds like some mafia stuff right here.’ she said.

'No, don’t say such things, he would never get in things like mafia. Not him, not Junmyeon.’ you shook your head, not wanting to believe. But if you were honest to yourself and Yoona, you had a similar feeling about that too.

'Don’t worry it was just a thought of mine, when was the last time he called you?’ your best friend asked, trying to make you feel better again. 

You wiped your tears away and answered: 'Well, it was last month, i believe he will call me somewhen this week. He always calls me int the second week of the month.’

'Okay, thats good. Hmm.. look, since we have a good reason today, what do you think about going out today and after that I will stay at your home? You know he is okay so why don’t we have a little fun?’

You screw up your face, in fact you don’t want to go out anywhere, because lately you had this bad feeling about Junmyeon. It almost felt as if he was in danger. And you just wanted to stay at home and wait until he will call you again. To hear his calm voice which you loved so much-

Yoona suddenly interrupted your thinking 'Oh come on, please? Pretty please? The last time we went out together is so long ago… please (Y/N). And besides that, i want to introduce someone to you.’

'I don’t know, where do you plan to go? And what if he calls me and im not home?’

'Then he will call you later again, we won’t be gone for ever’, Yoona joked.

But you weren’t in the mood to laugh about it or something similar.

'Please i beg you! You know for all this three years i went out with others friends, but i wanted you by my side. I respected the fact that you weren’t in the mood tho. But now, when you know that he is alright, don’t you think it is your right to go out and have some fun? Oh and remember? You weren’t even at my birthday party, you owe it to me.’

'Do you really have to make me feel guilty, im sorry on your birthday I… I couldn’t party back then..’ you said.

'I know, I know, I heard your excuses for over a hundred times now and I don’t want them but you going out with me tonight. Come on, its decided! Stand up! Today you can’t say no, remember we have a good reason to go.’ she said while pulling you up from your bed and pushing you towards the door which led to your room full of clothes.

'Your saying this as if we are celebrating something’ you mumbled.

'Excuse me, i just found out that your brother is alive. Believe me or not but thats a big relief for me as well.’

'Okay, okay… I don’t have anything to put on tho.’ you sighed.

'You do, you just forgot about every cool thing in your closet because you were sitting home the last three years’ your best friend said, obviously in a good mood now.

You moaned: 'Oh please, what did i do to deserve all this, huh? I don’t want to meet new people. Who is the one you want to introduce to me?’

'Haha, your not funny and its a boy’ Yoona said, faking a laugh pretty bad.

When you heard what she just said you immediately stop walking, so that she had even more struggles to push you into your clothing room.

'A boy? Why a boy? I really don’t want to meet a boy! I forgot how to talk to boys Yoona! Cant we just stay at home and watch a movie? I don’t know, maybe a drama?’ you tried to talk her out of this idea. Because talking to boys wasnt really your talent.

'Hmm.. let me think about it, uhmm NO! We are not staying at home watching dramas, your life is a drama and you finally need some action.’

You were now standing in the room which was full of designer clothes you loved once. But since the thing with Junmyun happened you stopped going out and, just like Yoona said, forgot about the half existence of your clothes. 

While Yoona was searching for clothes you asked: 'So, whats his name anyway?’

Yoona turned around and gave you a smirk: 'Hah i knew you would be interested’

You moaned: 'Im not interested i just want to know his name?’

She laughed: 'Aha sure, its Jongin and he is really cute, but don’t let his cuteness fool you my friend. He can be really sexy, i bet you will forget how to breath when you see him’

'Stop talking nonsense im not that easy, and when you find him that attractive why don’t you go out with him by yourself?’

Yoona seemed to be thinking, after a while she said: 'I don’t know, we have been friends for over two years now, and he is the one i like the most under my friends, after you of course. And i just don’t have these feelings for him. It more feels like he is my brother. I mean sometimes he is so handsome even i can’t handle it-’

'You know i don’t like guys every girl has a crush on.’ you interrupted her.

'Yeah i know, but even though its like that, his character is special, i promise you will like him. And to reassure you, he doesnt like easy girls. And by easy girls I mean those girls who are falling for him just because of his look. He likes girls more like, … well i don’t even know how to explain it. More like you i guess.’

'Seriously why are you so sure that he will like me? After everything you told me about him, it seems like he doesnt even want to like a girl.. was that understandable? I believe you know what i mean.’

'Because i feel it, and now shut up, put this on, then we will do our make up and face and then we are leaving.’ Yoona said and gave you some really short gucci hot pans, a white crop shirt and a big jeans jacket, your favorite one. It belonged to Junmyeon and since you asked him a lot to wear it he just gave it to you as a present. 

'I don’t even know if my parents will allow me to go out’ you said and hugged the jacket.

Yoona crossed her arms and gave you a seriously?-look and said: 'your parents are the most cool people i know and to be honest with you, your mom asked me today if there were any plans about going out tonight with you. Because she wants you to have fun, at least a little bit.’

'Aha,’ you said 'by the way, where do you want to go?’

'To my favorite club, Jongin showed it to me a while ago and since that we always went there’ she answered.

You sighed 'I still can’t believe im doing that right now, well then i guess i will change my clothes now,’ you went into your own bathroom which was connected only with your room. 

If you were honest it felt good having other emotions then only worrying about your brother. It has been three years and you can allow yourself to have some fun. This is why you love Yoona so much, because she was by your side everyday, and everyday she managed to make you feel better.

After Yoona made your natural make up and hair you found yourself in a taxi on the way to the club. Your parents weren’t at home tonight so you texted them a text message, so that they won’t worry. There were some guilty thoughts because of Junmyun, but you got them out of your mind quickly, because you really wanted to have fun now.

The taxi stopped infant of a typical rich-kids-club, and even though you were a rich kid yourself (well at least your parents were rich) you didn’t feel like you belonged here. After all it has been three years since you visited a club the last time. While Yoona paid for the taxi you got out of the car and looked around you at the people. You saw beautiful girls and handsome boys, most of them seemed to be happy but you felt kind of anxious, and the more you think about that boy Jongin the more nervous you got. You didn’t even know why, you trusted Yoona’s taste absolutely but it didn’t stop the nervousness.

Yoona got out of the car a minute later and also looked around herself, probably watching for Jongin.

You saw her grinning suddenly: 'Jongin! Here you are! She said and went towards the clubs VIP doors. In front of the door for the ordinary people there was a huge line. You quickly went after her, so that you won’t loose her.

When you reached her she was hugging a boy at the moment. The boy -Jongin didn’t even seem to notice you. After the hug Yoona turned towards you and said 'Jongin, thats (Y/N), (Y/N) thats Jongin. I hope you will become good friends as well.’

Now, when Yoona stepped out of the sight, you finally could see the whole boy. The first thing you noticed was his muscular body, which was even more emphasized by his white shirt, from which the sleeves were pulled up. Then his face… Yoona was absolutely right, he was really handsome, he seemed nice and badass at the same time and suddenly you felt like, you might like him if his character is as good as his look.

You noticed that he was also checking you out, from your bare legs to your crop  shirt and face, you felt nervous again.

After he noticed your uncertain look, he cleared his throat: 'Hi’ he said, 'So you are Yoonas best friend she told me so much about’, 'uhm y..yes i believe so’ you said and threw Yoona a look, she was obviously amused by this situation.

'She mentioned that you were pretty, but i didn’t imagine you that pretty’ Jongin said. These words made you blush, 'Thank you i guess’ you replied shyly looking on the ground bc you very really blushing. In the corner of your eye, you still could see his gaze at you.

Fortunately Yoona where there to help you out of this situation: 'So do we want to go in?’ she asked. Finally Jongin stopped looking at you and turned to Yoona  'Yeah i already have reserved a place for us’ he said. 

'Perfect’ Yoona said, opened the door and stepped in, leaving you and Jongin alone. 

Why is she doing the situation so awkward, you wondered.

Jongin opened the door and made a movement with his hand, which also was handsome. You didn’t exactly know why but you loved it when boys had handsome hands. 

'Ladys first’ he said then, you smiled at him and stepped into the club.

You could hear the loud music already from outside, so it wasn’t really a surprise when you were in. You saw a lot of people dancing and having fun, but you didn’t see Yoona. 

So you stopped a little irritated, which made Jongin run right into you. You turned back to him a little embarrassed,

'Sorry, i just, uhm, i don’t know where Yoona is.’ you said and noticed that Jongin didn’t seem upset about the litte accident. 

He simply gave you a smirk: 'No problem, she probably went into the VIP section upstairs,’ he said. 

You turned around again, searching for the god damn stairs, when you felt a hand around your waist slightly pushing to the left. When you looked to your left, you noticed Jongin’s right arm around you. The touch of his hand got you a new feeling, it almost felt like your skin was burnin under his touch. You didn’t know what was going on, but it feeled good though.

Jongin smirked again: 'The stairs are here’ he said. You gave him embarrassed smile and went in the direction he took you. But his hand was still on your waist. It seemed like you had some butterflies in your stomach and your knees got soft. Which you didn’t really understand because you met him the first time and don’t want such feelings for him. You couldn’t really help it though.

'You seem like you don’t visit clubs often, do you?’ he asked in a load voice, so that you could hear him through the music. 

'No’ you replied, 'In fact i wasn’t in any clubs for three years now,’

'Is there a special reason? Bad experience?’ he asked. 

'I just didn’t feel like i want to have fun’ you said and remembered about Junmyun again, but as earlier you threw the thought away.

'And now you do?’ Jongin asked. 

'Yes, I believe so’ you said.

You felt his hand on your waist all the way up the stairs and somehow you didn’t want his hand to leave the place, it made you kinda chill, nervous and good feeling at the same time.

When you got up the stairs, which were really narrow, there were some people who wanted to go upstairs. They were laughing and giving you the vibes that they were slightly drunk already. 

To make some place for the people Jongin pulled you more close to him, making your left body side touching his right body side. 

And again you had those feelings…

When you found the table where Yoona was already sitting, his hand left your side, you felt like you want to tell him to put his hand back on your waist. But as soon as you thought the thoughts, you were ready to slap yourself for being so strange. 

You sat down right next Yoona 

and Jongin sat down right infron of you. In your mind you were hoping that Yoona hasnt seen his hand aroung your waist. And as if she can read your mind she leaned over to your ear and whispered, so that only you could hear it: 'Dont even hope that i havent seen it, he obviously likes you. I have never seen him doing that to a girl before. And that means something, i mean i know him for a long time.'

 You werent sure if you should see it positive, maybe he was doing that to you because he thought you were too easy... Anyway you decided to talk about that with Yoona later, since she was staying over night at your house. 

 The time slowly went by, you and jongin talked a lot together, just about everything. You really started to like him. Also you noticed that everytime you were not speaking or not looking at him, his gaze was still at you. You didnt know if Yoona noticed that as well, but it kind of made you feel a little bit nervous. 

Suddenly a boy stand next to you, he was smiling shyly: 'Hi' he said. You guys replied with a hi back. Yoona suddenly gave you the vibes as if she was nervous, you could guess why, when the boy said: 'Yoona, do you want to dance?' 

 She was looking at you and then at Jongin, and then again at you. You nodded slightly. 

 'Uhm, sure, why not' she said. After you stood up, to let Yoona out and sat down again, Jongin said: 'Thats her crush you know?' 

 Your eyes widened: 'Really? Was that Minseok?' 

 Yoona told you a lot about him and about her feelings for him, but you have never seen him.. 

 'Yeah thats him' Jongin said. 

 'He seems nice to me,' you thought,

 'Yeah he is actually nice, but sometimes he can be an asshole. And lately his asshole-phases has been really often' Jongin told you, drank his drink and looked at his glad. 

 'I think everyone has his asshole-phases. Dont tell me you dont have them' you joked and tried to put your left leg over your right one. When you suddenly touched Jongins leg up with your leg. 

 At the very second he suddenly looked up, straight into your eyes.

 'Im sorry' you said, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable and think that you were trying to flirt with him. 

 He gave you one of his smirks again and said 'yeah i also have asshole-phases' He, then, leaned a little bit forward so that his knees were touching your bare knees now. The table was small, so it was really ease to do. 

 You had those butterflies again, but you werent sure how to feel about it. You liked it, didnt Yoona said that he doesnt like easy girls? Then why is he doing such things to you, you dont even know him two days.

 'Do you know that man on the table in the left corner? Surrounded by a lot of girls, do you see him?' 

You turned around, thankfull for the topic change, but you still feld his touching.

 You saw the man Jongin was talking about. Well, at least you thought he meant him, he was handsome and also muscular.

 He stared at you for about 5 seconds and then he turned to a girl. 

 You turned around to Jongin, who also was staring at you.

 'No' you said, looking Jongin in his eyes, 'Its my first time seeing him. Why are you asking tho?'

 'Well he is staring at you the whole time' Jongin said, which made you feel more nervous. 

 'Really? Why?' You asked.

 Jongin's face impression was really serious, too serious for your taste, 'I dont know, maybe he likes you... No not maybe, he surely likes you.' 

 You werent sure how you should reply to this so you just sat there looking Jongin in his eyes and waiting for him to say something. 

 Unfortunately he was doing the same thing. 

 After a while he said: 'If you dont like it, then show him that you already belong to someone' 

 'I dont belong to anyone though' you said 

'Well i could help you if you want' These words made your heart drop, 

'How do you want to do it?' You asked. 

 'Lets dance' he answered 'act like im your boyfriend' You searched for any sign of joking in his eyes, but he looked all serious.

 'Okay' you said 'But i don't know how to dance anymore', you couldn't believe what you were talking about right now.

 Suddenly Jongin was smirking again: 'Come on, i will show you.' He took you by your waist again, you liked how it fueled..

 On the way to the stairs you noticed that the man was looking at you with furious eyes, which kind of scared you. You were glad you had Jongin by your side and decided to act really natural.

 When you reached the dance floor downstairs, Jongin placed his other hand on your waist and touched your forehead with his forehead.

 You could feel his breath on your lips, you looked him deep into his eyes, not sure about what was happening. And the you just simply put your hands on his wide shoulders. Your knees were soft again and you felt some botterflies flying in your stomach. 

 Suddenly Jongin started to talk, which made you feel even better somehow, his breath touching your lips..

 'He is here, he followed us and he is obviously watching us' he said.

 That made you feel anxious. What does he want from you?.. 

 'Dont be scared', Jongin said, 'you have me.' 

 You nodded slightly but it still didnt make you feel better. You wanted home again, in your warm bed...

'Were is Yoona?' you asked, 'I want to find her and go home, i think thats already enough for today, I don't feel comfortable anymore'

Jongin raised his head 'There she is, at the bar with Minseok,' he said, took your hand and led you through all the people to the bar.

You saw Yoona laughing with Minseok and drinking another drink. 

When she saw you she said 'One minute' to Minseok and lent towards you to ask if everything was okay, because you seemed pale.

You told her that a strange man was watching you and following you around, and that even Jongin noticed it.

'..can we please go home now? This messed up my mood' you finished.

Yoona looked at Minseok who were talking with Jongin, and made sure that no one would hear her: 'Look I'm sorry, but this is the very first time me and Minseok doing something alone. If you want home, could you go with Jongin? I will come to your place a little later i have your keys.' she said with a little bit guilty eyes.

You sighed, because you didn't expect anything else, but you werent mad at her though, 'Do you think he will walk me home?' you asked.

Yoona smiled now: 'Ofcourse he will! Hey Jongin!' 

Jongin stopped talking to Minseok and looked at both of you, 'Yeah?' he said unsurely.

'Could you walk (Y/N) home and make sure she will arrive save there?' Yoona asked him.

Jongin smirked again.

You literally started to love his smirk for gods sake...

'Sure, ill take care, she is safe with me' he said.

His words woke your butterflies in your stomach up..

Yoona said 'I trust you.'

'Don't worry' Jongin replied. 

Somehow you felt safe immediately.

Jongin took you by your hand, smirked and said: 'Lets go. See you Minsoek'

'Yeah' Minseok said.

You smiled at Yoona, who just gave you an amused grin, and then you completely trusted Jongins leadment.

Thats the first chapter, i hope you like it ˆ-ˆ

sorry for any typos 

[chickenfetus]

ALL!!!! (also the gemini sqUAD LOL)

im gonna enjoy a nice cup of water while doing this bc idk a tea (update i didnt drink water at all and now im dying of thirst,, also undercut bc many)

1: Golden mornings or peachy sunsets?

i dont wake up early enough to see the sunrise and when i do i never manage to take pics bc of school so peachy sunsets

2: Sugar cones or waffle cones?

idk what a sugar cone is but i like waffle cones!!! havent eaten ice cream with a cone in forever though,, i rarely eat ice cream now

3: Do you wear scarves often? do you have a favorite?

listen…. its about 33 degrees everyday but even if im in a colder country i dont wear scarves

4: How long do you lay in bed before you finally get up?

this depends?? on how motivated im feeling lmao never more than 10 minutes though because if i lay awake for that long ill just fall back asleep

5: Is there a food you’ve never had but always wanted to try?

i dont think so?? im bad at trying new things especially food

6: What does your umbrella look like?

i dont.. go outside often and whenever i do i take public transport so basically everythings sheltered so i never had a need for umbrellas

7: Do you listen to ASMR?

ive only listened to one everybody please listen to this gift

8: Rain storms or a light drizzle?

both, preferably when im indoors

9: What’s a little thing in life that you love?

hm??????????? my tags lmao 

UPDATE: i also really like reading other people’s tags and their rambles that is all

10: Favorite color aesthetic?

does the word aesthetic make this question any different from a normal favourite colour question???? if it doesnt then sky blue 

11: Wobbly lines or using a ruler?

in this house we draw lines with no ruler like men (but also because even if i did use a ruler it wouldnt be like… straight idk i cant use rulers

12:  Bright colorful living room or neutral cozy living room?

neutral cozy living room but i also love basking in sunlight 

13: Do you have any candles? what scents are they?

im not a big fan of heavy smelling products so i dont own any candles

14: Have you ever rode a horse?

i dont think so??????? ive seen horses before though

15: Do you have glasses?

without my glasses i wouldnt be able to read these questions lmao and . .. theyre also a result of watching pokemon too closely to the tv at a young age… its been like 10 years since i got glasses

16: What’s a language you’d like to speak?

japanese i tried speaking it but i got 2 embarrassed to say anything properly while i was in japan (i cant even speak english properly to a friend whyd i think i could speak another language to a stranger beats me) 

17: What’s your favorite season and favorite month in that season?

my singaporean no season ass: ? but autumn and november (is this cutting it too close to winter? idk my seasons)

18: Do you have a favorite pair of socks?

hm not really i just wear blue ankle socks a lot but my friend did give me a pair of pokemon and gudetama socks before and i adore those although i lost the gudetama ones in the uk last year she got me another pair whatd i do to deserve her?

19: Favorite Ghibli and/or disney movie

m .. um? big. hero 6?????? 

20: Disney, Dreamworks, or Pixar?

my dumb ass didnt know they were different

21: What snacks do you usually get at the theater?

i rarely go and watch movies anymore but when i did watch a lot of movies with my friend at the theater we’d get afternoon shows and sneak mcdonalds in lmao

22: What’s an underrated video game/ movie/ show you love and think it needs more recognition?

how about band? day6 i only ever play pokemon + sif + bandori so i cant say much and i rarely watch movies and a show? if its an anime id say the one i mentioned before in my one text post 

23: Would you fill your house with plants if you had a green thumb?

not really rip 

24; All plants are great but do you have a favorite?

HM mmmmmm there was this one but i forgot the name lmao pass

25: Do you have a favorite type of art style? (eg: soft looking, no to little color, sketches, crisp and clean, minimalist, pixel art etc.)

when im the … audience? what do u call it???? i like seeing all kinda of art styles!!! everyone has their own unique art style and i love it all :o

for ME,, , ive been doing art for 6 years maybe and i still cant do shit

26: What would you do if someone gave you flowers?

i would die straight up die thats such a soft concept i cant imagine myself receiving flowers thats 2 sweet oh my god wtf id combust??? i prefer leaves though is that weird i picked some nice leaves recently and im gonna give those to my friends

27: Do you like nicknames?

giving and having nicknames is my favorite past time

28: Do you still watch shows you watched when you were a kid? even from time to time?

pokemon lmao thank u 4 not ending it…. the animation has only improved and im so proud to have been watching it since the start pokemon is my special thing i love it so much!! an interest that never died down, with an anime that stays super like idk to my preference? i tried watching the new digimon stuff but i just couldnt :^( im glad they made ash stay the main character 

29: Do you still like old memes? (tell the truth)

never forget dat boi

30: Favorite Halloween costume you dressed up as? (if you don’t celebrate halloween have you ever cosplayed or would you like to? who did you cosplay as?)

we dont celebrate halloween and i would never cosplay, big shoutout to cosplayers though!!! they put in so much effort and just, respect!!!!! 

i dont know if this is an actual memory because i dont remember well but when i was younger i thiNK? i had to dress up as a swan thing i have no clue i dont even remember the performance but i might have had to ?? and dance??? or act i dont remember everythings fuzzy but i dressed up a swan once? in kindergarten ????? 

31:  Are you a fashionable person?

i have the worst fashion sense and even though jeans are nice once again the weather here doesnt allow me to be as fashionable as i can be

32: Do you like watching holiday movies?

not realyyy??? the jack frost (rip) movie was ncie????

33:  Cookies or brownies?

i live 4 chocolate chip cookies but too much is . . not preferable

34: Do you blow in the cold air just to see your breath?

no i hate breathing in & out from my mouth

35: Do you find the crickets chirping outside your window relaxing?

WELL from the great cockroach ordeal last night id probably die bc we live in an apartment building so the only way id be hearing crickets would be if they were in the ROOM 

36: Do you like cobblestone streets?

my only knowledge of cobblestone is from minecraft so idk

37:  How often do you doodle?

when school was still relevant i would doodle as soon as i picked up a pencil lmao i try not to anymore bc i doodled on my math assignment and forgot to fucking erase it and my math teacher called me out

38: When was the last time you blew bubbles?

a year ago?? i dont remember but i do remember when i was younger id try and blow bubbles at the void deck do yall kno what that is its just a space near the lift lobby anyway i swallowed the soap thing idk u know how ur supposed to blow? well i sucked the soap in yum

39: What’s your favorite random piece of decor in your house and room?

in my room its the bed and in the house its the water bottle that contains water

40: Do you bite your fingernails off or clip them more often?

i………………………… i dont actualy kno how to clip my nails and my mum would kill me if i tried but i dont bite my nails either

41: Any birthmarks?

not that i know of

42: Thoughts on freckles?

ive never actually seen someone with freckles in public before but theyre good stuff i gueess?? i dont actually have an opinion on them? everyone says theyre cute and all but im just ??? not that i hate freckles tho if u have freckles? thats cool! 

43: First video game you ever played?

pokemon pearl?? either that or megaman on my ps3 OR the bomb square guy????? idk the game name but.. ya

44: what type of bird do you hear most often outside your door?

i dont know what the bird species are but theyre small black birds not crows idk

45: Do you use gifs/ memes a lot when replying to people?

memes yes gifs no bc im not lame like jen

46: Thoughts on spring?

no comment?? i mean? its nice??????? i guess ??? if we had a spring

47: Ideal temperature outside?

oh boy 20 degrees would be enough for me but its never gotten that low before sunny island’s life

48: Cloudy, partly cloudy, or clear skies?

i like clear skies when its bright! but not too sunny and not too warm!!!!! clouds are nice to look at too though

49: How often do you hear airplanes outside?

yeah we live near an airport i dont think anybody uses????

50: Do you enjoy windy days?

windy days are my SHIT back in school our basketball court was open spaced and whenevr wind blew we could feel it man thats the life right there but i hate windy days when im sitting at home bc it flows the curtains rigth into my face i like the feel of the wind and the smell of fresh air but… curtains in my face? not 2 great so rip i close all the windows lmao

okay thank u so much 4 asking falen i love you and wow this was a lot

[forbidden-creepypasta]

NoLove Archive

I’m making this post only because  I want to have NoLove’s stories saved somewhere after Terrortortellini’s demise. Without a further ado, behold the work of the greatest creepypasta writer ever. All credit to NoLove, of course.

Me and Angie had been best friends for as long as I can remember. That all changed one day. Everyone always thought we were lovers, but it really wasn't the case. I guess it only added fuel to the fire when we decided to go travelling to Africa together for four months. She'd spent some time there when she was young, and I wanted to see more of the world, so it made sense. The first three months went great. We spent every day helping the local kids. The other English guys over there loved us both. The kids thought we were great, Angie especially. First morning into the fourth month, I woke up to the most horrifying sight I'd ever seen. Dead kids, broken bones, blood everywhere. Trampled to death. 'Angie, I don't believe this.' I said. 'HAROOOOOOOMPPPPHHHH,' said Angie.

 As you dedicated a forum to me, I thought I would pay you back by giving you the other stories that you missed. It includes the rare 'return of Angie' story. It's up to Vaughn what is done with them...I guess they might be deleted, or added to the Classics...but I hope you enjoy. Don't Lie The last two humans on Earth sat eating by a faintly flickering fire, its crackles and their chewing the only things breaking the silence. The man gave his young son a smile. 'It's Friday today Danny! You know what that means...' The boy nodded. 'Chocolate day.' The man patted his son on the head, and went to fetch the last remaining chocolate bar. 'Danny!' 'Yes Dad?' 'Did you eat that chocolate? It's gone!' The father stormed into view of his son, who looked terrified. 'N-no! I swear!' 'You had better not be lying to me!' 'I'm not!' 'I'm serious, Danny! It's just us! Bad things will happen if we can't trust each other!' 'I promise!' The man looked at his son, and believed him. 'OK...OK, I'm sorry, Dan. Look, I'm going to look for some more supplies. I'll be back in an hour or so.' The young boy nodded. As his father left, he uncomfortably shifted around, and removed a chocolate wrapper from his pocket, and scrambled around to bury it in the ground. Panic over. Then, Danny heard the most terrifying sound he had ever heard. 'I thought your father told you not to tell lies?' BananaCorn Goes To Jail They led the no-good tryhard towards his cell. 'Please!' he whimpered. 'Give me one more chance!' The jury looked at him with pity. But it was for the best. The guard led Bananacorn down a staircase, his face stony; a direct contrast with Bananacorn's sweating features. Finally, they reached the cell. 'We don't have no specific cells for tryhards here, so you'll be sharing with a murderer,' said the guard. 'W-what?!'  'Meet your new cellmate!' Bananacorn stared at the other occupant in the cell with a look of absolute horror. 'HAROOOOOOMPH!' said Angie. The Stupidest Town In The World Year 2014. The idiots were slobbering around as usual, playing with each other beautifully, some people would think it was adorable; others thought it was just plain retarded. 'Sarah, Sarah, let's play with this toy!' said the man happily. 'No, no!' said Sarah. 'That toy is dangerous!!' 'No it's not! Look, watch!' 'No! Let me do it!' Sarah laughed. She grabbed it from him, and pressed the button with a grin on her face. In Moscow, 5000 miles away, the first bomb fell. The Man In Red...aka The Devil Here is a riddle which may creep you out a bit. The Man in Red ate his dinner...with a fork. The Man in Red killed a man. The Man in Red made a deal with a bad human. The Man in Red is a fallen angel. The Man in Red is God's enemy. The Man in Red is inside each and every one of us. Can you guess who I'm referring to? The Disco Of Death 'Woooo!' screamed Rosie. She was having fun, this had been the most fun disco she had been to in a long time. 'Wahhhh!' shouted Henry. He was also having fun. The DJ looked down at Rosie and Henry having fun and dancing with jealousy. He had a girlfriend once. He shrugged his shoulders, and lined up the next song. 'OK everyone, let's get dancing for this one! And it's time to get close with your nearest and dearest, this is a slow one! Let's dim the lights...' The lights went so dim that Rosie and Henry could hardly see each other. The slow music kept playing, and the room went darker and darker. 'Wahhhh!' Rosie and Henry never had fun again. The music continued to play, as the DJ slinked out of the venue without a trace. The bloody knife in his hand glistened in the moonlight. The Party Near An Electric Chair This is based on a dream I had. I am well aware that the story makes no sense, but I wanted to share it with you guys in it's purest format. I couldnt remember the name of the main guy in the dream so I made one up. Everyone had turned up to Hoffham MacRedpoor's 19th birthday. Jimmy was there, Sally was late, but that didn't matter, Julie and Gerald had both arrived on time. 'Thanks for all coming. As you know, my Dad works for the prisons and he got me something pretty cool for my birthday!' said Hoffham to his friends. 'What is it?' asked Julie. 'An electric chair!' 'Wow!' said Jimmy. Hoffham got all of his friends to sit on the chair. 'Here, I'll take a picture of you all!' said Hoffham. They all smiled. For the last time. Hoffham dropped the camera, and quickly pulled a lever, electrocuting his friends. They died instantly. 'That'll teach you guys to bully me at school.' There was a knock at the door. It was Sally. He let her in, but she had an odd look on her face. 'What's wrong Sally?' Hoffham asked. 'This is for killing my friends,' she said, and she shot him dead. Sally clambered into the chair alongside her friends, and pulled the lever. The Slug Who Lost His Mind The slug squished along the ground, slowly, pointlessly. He eyed the snail across the street jealously. If only he'd had a shell like that to protect him, when the demons had came a-knocking. Unfortunately, he didn't have a shell. And now he was haunted day by day. The ghost of his stupid slug mother, too dumb to get a job in the slime industry. His dead slug dad, killed by some kid with salt. But the most haunting image was the one of his own corpse. It seemed oddly unsluglike. Meanwhile in reality, the child's fever was not getting any better. He would not wake up as his concerned parents looked on. His mother wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, forming a glistening trail, not unlike that of one of a slug. In The Name Of The Father The man closed his eyes as the pain became more intense. It would be OK, he told himself.  The pain intensified. It felt like someone had placed needles in a furnace and pushed them into his arms and hands. It would all be OK, he knew the truth. Finally, he gave in. They checked his body. 'Yes, he's dead.' 'OK, good work everyone. Who do we have next from the mental institute?' The men went back to checking their lists, for the next person who would hang from the giant cross behind them. The Ghost Who Came To Life The ghost floated along, floating along happily. He floated even more happily, until suddenly, he felt very sad. 'I used to be alive.' Suddenly, a genie appeared. 'I will give you one wish, ghost.' 'Only one?' he replied. 'Don't genies usually grant three wishes?' 'Yes, but you are dead. You only get one.' 'OK, fine.' The ghost thought long and hard for a second. 'I want to come back to life, and be immortal.' 'Your wish is my command.' The genie brought the ghost back to life, and then disappeared. The ghost was now human again. In a coffin underground. Trapped. The Dead Rapper Yo, Yo, yo, yo. Naw, I ain't alive.  But I'm still rappin' Take a seat And I'll you what's happenin' Guy comes up, Pulls a gun Aimed it at my head It wasn't fun Yo, Yo, yo, yo. Some called me A rapping masta Now I'm writin' Creepypasta From beyond the grave While you are at a rave Guess what? The twist is coming at you like an attack I'm still alive- and my name's 2pac.

 My first pasta...be kind :3: I've been lying here for a few days now. She broke up with me, and I can't move. We'd been arguing for a while. My paranoia had always been a problem, and when I saw her getting out of a guy's car the other day, it all blew up. She was screaming, saying I was suffocating her by being so needy, I wasn't the person she thought I was; all of the usual things. But it seemed different this time. She seemed like she hated me. It turned out it was just an old schoolfriend of hers that she was meeting to talk about old times, but my accusations were the final straw for her. She packed a few of her things, called her sister to tell her she was coming over, and left without another word. The next few days were a bit of a blur. I'm lying here, wondering whether I'll ever be able to go and get that drink of water that I so desperately want. Wondering whether she'll come back and dig me up.

 You may have heard the old theory about 'an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters could type the complete works of Shakespeare'. Well, here's the part you probably haven't heard. Someone actually tried to do this.  Danish scientist Lars Hansen took this theory very seriously- as luck would have it, his job was Monkey Cloner at the University of Copenhagen. He had spent the last few days just cloning monkeys non-stop, knowing that Monkey Infinity would soon be arriving. 'This one, it's this one!' he yelled excitedly to his assistant Noah. 'Oh my God,' said Noah, his beautiful eyes widening. There it was, in front of them, monkey number infinity. Then the monkeys became self-aware, and realised there were more of them than the humans. They decided that they would each kill one human, travelling around the globe, led by Monkey Infinity. Monkey Infinity gestured towards Monkey #289994 and #9011.  'Kill,' Monkey Infinity said. And then Lars (human #289994) and Noah (human #9011) were both dead. Monkey Infinity laughed with satisfaction, knowing that he would never have to kill anyone himself, as there was no Human Infinity. So just remember...there's a monkey out there, with your number on it.

 Red. The colour of blood; flowing around your body day after day. Until that final day. White. The light blinds you for a few seconds as you wake up, tied to an old chair. You hear the faintest laugh, and then footsteps. Black.

 The kid was retarded; there was no getting past that. Dribble running down his face- gross. His tongue lolled around his face at weird angles. His beautiful green eyes ravaged by years of self-doubt. Lo! Realisation. He just became self-aware. And he's left the room now. Creeping...creeping towards those who made fun of him in the past. Creeping closer...and closer...and closer. He licks the door before he enters. The bully lay there, blissfully unaware. And he stayed unaware forever more, as the hammer crushed his skull within a milisecond. The retarded child left without a word.

 After getting poor reviews for my first pasta, I've taken my time over this one, making sure that hints are dropped throughout for the twist ending etc. Hope this one is more satisfactory. It had been a long few months. I was made redundant at the end of Easter, and was finally starting to get interviews again. But this one...this one was different. My suspicions were first aroused by the name-tag on the guy who was interviewing me. 'A. Lien' At first I just thought it was a Chinese guy, but no, he was white. Then they started asking me whether I would be prepared to 'relocate'. When I said 'what, to a different country?' they just laughed. But it didn't sound like a human laugh. It sounded alien. But anyway, I got the job. They didn't tell me where or when I'd be starting. One night I was whisked away in the back of a van. Call me paranoid, but I could have sworn that the van didn't just travel along the road- it travelled upwards. Almost like some kind of spacecraft. So I started work. The weird thing was, I don't remember anything about the work I was doing. It was almost like my mind was being wiped after every day, but some kind of technology not known to Earth. The truth hit me one day, when I asked my employers 'Where on Earth am I?', emphasising the word 'Earth'. They just laughed. But it didn't sound like a human laugh.

 If God became President, he would win every war. If God became President, no-one would worry any more. If God became President, the devil would be his vice-president. What if the vice-president (the devil) convinced the President (God) to kill himself? Then the Devil would be President. Imagine if the Devil made God II his Vice President?  Imagine if God II managed to get the Devil to change his ways and resign, then God II would become President. God II appoints the Devil II as his vice-president. The cycle continues. Eventually- it all ends.

 Los Angeles, 1975. I wasn't alive then, and I ain't never been to Los Angeles. But this is what I imagine it was like. The rain was incessant; the tighter I tried to pull my coat around me, the more seemed to get through. The flashing neon was a welcome distraction from the pain currently rippling through my body. They had all come to see me off- the guy who got buried alive, the guy who got abducted by aliens, angie the elephant, the goddamn emo, the dead rapper, the unhappy car, the thinker, the ugly wizard; all these legendary characters had turned out to see their creator's final stand. And they were all smiling. Not smiles of satisfaction, but warm smiles. Comforting smiles. Angie the elephant brushed her trunk gently over his body. He returned their smiles weakly, and felt his eyes begging to be closed. Nothing. The final twist is that his death was from natural causes. RIP NoLove.

 The Devil wagged his tail. The Devil barked loudly. The Devil growled beautifully. The Devil chased a cat. Suddenly, the dog became self-aware and realised he was the Devil. And the cat that he was chasing was God. The world imploded. In future when you see a dog, try not to get creeped out.

 The rabbit lay beautifully in the grass with a smile on his face. Then it stopped smiling. And started to eat its own skin. Crunch. Skin ripped off. Squelch. Skin ripped off. Only it wasn't a rabbit, it was your insane brother who just turned up at your house after 38 years. And he wasn't eating his skin... He was eating yours.

 'Hey! Hey you, you goddamn punk!' The goddamn punk turned around. 'What do you want from me?' 'All your cash, phone, everything. Turn out your pockets.' The goddamn punk sighed. Would these muggers never learn? He reached into his pockets, and pulled out a gun. 'Woah! Hey...woah, man. Jesus Christ.' The mugger stepped back in shock at the sight of the weapon. 'I'm not a goddamn punk. I'm a goddamn emo.' The goddamn punk shot himself in the head. The mugger tenatively kicked his body over, and stole his money, phone, and after a second's thought, took the gun.

 The God turned to the other God. 'I am the true God,' he said. 'No,' replied the second God. 'I am the true God.' The two fought, kicking each other beautifully, and scratching each other's God faces, and pulling each other's God beards. They fought, and fought, and fought. Then, a third figure entered the fray. It was The Devil. 'I AM THE TRUE GOD,' he whispered gently. The other two Gods were too tired to put up a fight. With one stab of his fork, The Devil killed both Gods. 'There can only be one God,' breathed The Devil, 'Of nothingness.' Then the world ended.

 I think I'll do it again today. I think I'll make that train crash. I think I'll make that plane crash. I think I'll make that bus crash. I think I'll make that car crash. I am God, after all. I think.

  The Hungarian Orangutan made his bed in the morning.

His French wife messed it up while he went to work.

The Hungarian Orangutan put his dinner in the oven.

His French wife burnt it on purpose.

The Hungarian Orangutan went to bed to try to sleep.

His French wife played loud music to keep him awake.

They were certainly a couple who had opposite views on things.

The French wife wanted to live...

*

Meanwhile in France, the police knocked on the door of a mother and father to deliver some very bad news.

'What is it, officers?'

'Your daughter has been murdered by an orangutan.'

'Oh no.' they said.

The officers left. They took off their disguises to reveal that they were in fact the Hungarian Orangutan and the French wife. They kissed on the lips. 

And then there was light.

Death. Death, death, death. Life. The wizard's eye opened slowly, as he tried to take in his surroundings, which were fuzzily beginning to move into focus. 'I thought you weren't going to make it,' smirked the figure across the room. 'You thought wrong,' said the wizard. The figure opposite stepped closer. His face was pale white, and he had beautiful blue eyes. He was a marked contrast to the wizard on the ground. The wizard's face was ashen, his features were shrunken, and he had a twisted scar across his entire face. 'For all your ugliness, your powers as a wizard are second to none.' 'And for all of your nice features, you still haven't managed to become a wizard.' The figure seemed to drink these words in, like an athlete gulping down water after a particularly tough race. 'Oh, haven't I?' The figure sank to his knees, twisting his arms around, whispering manic incantations, and sparks began to fly around him. The wizard looked on in shock, and then pain began to course through his body. Death. The figure laughed with pleasure. Then, the smallest trace of a scar began to form across his face.

 He walked through the bar, shaking each man by the hand. He walked down the road, shaking each woman and child by the hand. He entered the old people's home, shaking each old person by the hand. He entered the children's hospital, shaking each child by the hand. He goes home at the end of the day; smiling, satisfied with his day's work. They'll all see him again one day. And they'll remember when they shook this hand.

 Left turn. Right turn. Full speed ahead. He drank too much tonight, there's no way he's totally in control of me. That fifth beer pushed him over the edge. Not drunk enough to be all over the place, but he's not in control. Maybe if he was happier, he wouldn't drink so much. Left turn. He glanced at his phone, and saw the time. Better get home quickly, she'll be wondering where he is. Right turn. He didn't see the child step out in front of him. Full speed ahead. I guess they'll sell me to someone else whilst he's in prison. I hope I don't make them unhappy too.

 He strained...every muscle in his body seemed like it was fighting its own world war. Reach. Reach. Relax. He fell back again, unable to achieve his goal. What would it take for him to get there?! One last push. Reach. Strain. Reach! Yes! He did it. He reached out, and pressed. The submit button that is. The twist is that the main character was me, making his 100th post.

 The creepypasta became self-aware. The creepypasta got on the bus. The creepypasta got a job. The creepypasta found a wife. The creepypasta had creepypasta kids. The creepypasta got old. The creepypasta died. It always ends the same.

BananaCorn wrote:You do realise that this entire NoLove escapade started because he couldn't take criticism for his serious stories, so he posts stupid shit to make us rage.

This is the third and final part of the 'Los Angeles Trilogy' by NoLove. I hope you've enjoyed it. I will be back with some new material very soon. I also hope to go to Los Angeles someday. Los Angeles, 1977. They say that birth is followed by life, which is followed by death. But the question on NoLove's lips was: 'what follows resurrection?' The answer came to him in a flash. More death. NoLove loaded up his gun, and began firing randomly. Truly, randomly. The first shot hit a building. The second shot hit a cow. It survived. The third shot hit himself, full in the face. He died. And then the sequence from Part Two happened all over again, and he was back to life. 'Looks like I'm gonna be around forever,' said NoLove, in arguably one of the most incredible twists of all-time.

 The Devil sat happily in a chair. He sat in silence, and then he sat some more. Then he decided to sell his own soul...to himself. 'How much do you want for your soul?' he asked himself. 'One thousand dollars,' he replied.  Out of nowhere came one thousand dollars. The devil had sold his soul to himself. THIRTY EIGHT YEARS LATER The mentally ill child sat happily in a chair. He sat in silence, and then he sat some more. Then he decided to sell his tricycle to a kid he knew. 'How much do you want for your tricycle?' the kid asked him. 'One thousand dollars,' the mentally ill child replied.  Out of nowhere came one thousand dollars.  The mentally ill child took the money, and thought to himself. 'I'm sure I remember this happening before.' The new child on the tricycle had a red glint in his eye, as he pedaled away.

 Now this is the story about how My soul got flip-flopped, passed around Now I'd like to take a minute Just sit in my chair I'll tell you how he became the prince of WHAT FRESH HELL? In west Gehenna born and raised On the ninth circle is where I spent most of my days In chilly ice, that's right, it was all cool And chewin' up traitors, 'cuz that's the rules When a man without love  Who was up to no good Started making pasta 'bout my demon-hood There was one sick kid who sold his ride And from then on, well, its a downhill slide He whistled for a kid and when he came near The trike was fresh and had dice in the mirror If anything I can say this trike was funny But he thought 'Aw, what the heck' - 'Yo homes, gimme money!' He pulled out some bills, about 7 or 8 And he yelled to the seller, 'Yo homes, meet your maker!' I sobbed for my realm He was finally there To sit on my throne, with me in utter despair

  Spin.

Spin, spin, spin.

Stop.

The man stopped spinning the toy globe for a second. Then...

Spin, spin spin.

If he stopped spinning, you wouldn't be reading this thread anymore.

[trendingnewsb]

MIA: This is a white country, you dont have to spell it out to me

Maya Arulpragasam is bringing dancehall, hip-hop and grime to this years Meltdown. Is the outspoken British Sri Lankan the best argument for positive cultural appropriation?

The Guardian said that you couldnt shag to my record. As conversational openers go, MIAs beats the banal niceties of, say, Hello, how are you doing?. Its no surprise that she charges straight into a chat about why her last album was considered too confrontational for the bedroom by this paper. Its an icebreaker moulded to MIAs very own design: abrasive, compelling, underpinned by sex. Yeah, she finally concedes with a grin when I suggest we move past it, you cant have it all, can you?

Its a theme she warms up to when we talk about her edition of Meltdown at the Southbank Centre, which were ostensibly here to discuss. Usually, I wouldnt do something like this, she says, slouched under an oversized khaki coat dress. [But the organisers] were like: Hey, you can do whatever you want. Still, putting on the South Banks annual festival, curated in previous years by the likes of David Bowie, David Byrne and Patti Smith, has turned out to be a fairly arduous affair for MIA who says she doesnt do computers at the moment.

They didnt tell me it was nine days long. I thought it was a weekend. And then all my lists were, like, Well, this person wont be in London and that person is doing Glastonbury. Organising festivals is actually really complicated, she stresses. It wasnt just about dreaming something and then it appeared. Programming literally means, like, programming.

For all that Maya Arulpragasam didnt quite know what she was letting herself in for, one suspects the Southbank Centre didnt either; logistics aside, the mornings photoshoot has already been met with some flapping from the press officer made nervous by MIA climbing on the roof without safety clearance. Still, her lineup dancehall, Brooklyn hip-hop, depressive Swedish rap and Nigerian grime is perhaps the most underground the festival has seen in its 24 years. How much is she expecting to shake up its comfortable concert halls, cafe bars and conference-room spaces?

Click here to watch the video for last years Go Off.

When I was a teenager in London, I would just get a Travelcard and go somewhere, explore the city and go to weird places, she says. I would never judge the place, like, This is middle class and white. This is a white country, you dont have to spell it out to me, but there wasnt ever a limit on where I could go or what I could do.

A long, elliptical digression on London then and now follows, which takes in the optimistic multiculturalism of the 90s, Tamil house parties, empire and British identity. Its the bento box of an MIA interview: individually contained ideas that dont obviously bleed into one another and yet, overall, make a collective sense if youre prepared to go with it. Thats the key thing about MIA: you have to be willing to go with her to properly get her. Given that she still looks and sounds like a beautiful, bratty, art-school upstart and is prone to labyrinthine tangents, its easy to portray her as inarticulate or unhinged. But MIAs intelligence is instinctive rather than intellectual, and fuelled by the political.

The Mehrabian maxim that reckons that only 7% of communication is verbal is one that might best be proven by the transcript of a chat with MIA removed of all tone, attitude, context and body language. Take, for instance, her explanation of why only the future remains relevant:

As humans, we dont use our past and our history to work out the importance of what our role is in the present, she says. And if you cant use the past to define your present, then it should not be an element that holds back the future. Greece is a perfect example. More than Britain, they were brought to their knees, and not a single white country thought about saving them. And it was part of their heritage. Its where their mythology comes from or their concept of capitalism and democracy comes from. Nobody cared, everybody cared about the modern. Right?

Kim Kardashian is actually more powerful than Greece. She has more money than the whole of Greece, she continues. Therefore, thats where the power lies. If you then define it that way, then you kind of just have to live with that. And maybe whats happening in modern society: that if youre going to judge it by that, then other countries are gonna come in and define the future.

In print, its a statement that seems lacking in logic and coherence. In the moment, Im fairly sure Im able to follow her and we go on to consider how and where this future is being defined (for the record: You cant ignore the fact that China is going to be doing their thing in the next 50 years) and how Arulpragasam believes the immigration issue has become a red herring covering up a truth that can explain the American and British swing to conservative populism.

With Brexit, the idea was to get away from Europe and reinvent our identity, she says. And really, that identity was going to be American, but then they gave us Trump! So, everyone now is like, Oh shit, what is Britain? Are we going to rewind back to the 1800s? We cant. Its too late for that. So, going forward, we need a charismatic leader who then va va vooms the British identity. And we dont have that either.

People thinking that Im a bitch is totally unwarranted … MIA. Photograph: Stephanie Sian Smith/The Guide

The prime minister has called a snap election on the day we meet. Does MIA have any faith in our political system? Or in the left?

Everyone keeps going, Corbyn cant do this, but its, like, well, who else is there? she says. If people just left him alone to actually do the job and actually gave him some support, maybe hed be different. Treating him with so much contempt fighting that takes all his energy. How the fuck do you expect him to do interesting things? In any case insists the estranged daughter of a Tamil revolutionary, politicians are people who couldnt get jobs somewhere else.

MIAs politics, unwieldy and unslick though they may be, have often made her an easy target for tedious sneering in the press; the most insistent narrative is that, like Banksy, shes big on arch, subversive statement but lacks substance. Or that she is a hypocrite for making herself the poster girl for the worlds most marginalised people. And yet, shes one of the best pop stars Britain has ever produced. For all the ear-clanging experimentation of her five albums, MIA has always kept a sleeve full of pop bangers Bucky Done Gun, Paper Planes, Bad Girls, Finally that have sounded like little that came before or since her. Even if she didnt have the tunes, here is an art-school refugee Sri Lankan single mother with a visual aesthetic co-opted by everyone from Vetements to Versace who was born into political rebellion and revels in controversy. Gleefully gauche and carefree, MIA is the best argument for when cultural appropriation works. Bland singer-songstress beloved of Radio 2 playlists she isnt. So how much has the criticism bothered her?

People thinking that Im a bitch is totally unwarranted because Im not, she ays. I just had to fight for shit, and I still do. I just dont care any more. I dont know. She stops and starts. What I deal with as an artist, the media, the public persona, its a walk in the fucking park, compared to how confusing the universe really fucking is. Theres so much beauty in it and theres so much mystery, theres so much confusing shit in it. That is way more interesting to think about than why, like, Patricia hates me. You know what I mean? I laugh. Its like, Who the fuck is Patricia? and How can Patricia say this shit about me?. It just does not matter to me at all.As it is, she says shes most preoccupied with how to be a functioning grown up, an adult and a mother to an eight-year-old son (whose father Benjamin Bronfman is son to the billionaire heir of the Seagram fortune) born into immense privilege.

When the war came to an end in Sri Lanka in 2009, it actually did affect me, she explains. Everyone was, like, What the fuck does she know? Shes, like, a pop star, but that was my life. It was 50% of who I was, it was my identity. I didnt know what to do with myself. So I had a kid. Its the year the cause died, but the year my personal cause my son was born. And then, OK, I have to figure out what to do in very small parameters: I have a son, how is he going to see his grandma, am I going to make it there on Saturday? Can I make sure that I dont mess up his head by being depressed about certain things?

She struggles to reconcile her upbringing poor and living in Sri Lanka for her childhood to poor and living on a council estate in Mitcham, south London, in her adolescence with her sons. Im not very straightforward as an immigrant. That whole My kids would never see the pain that I saw; Im not like that. Im totally up for reintroducing him to the pain. I dont have any qualms about that. Her problems havent changed, she says, because of money or better circumstances. Whether Im in a mansion or a council flat, I would feel the same anxiety waking up going: I need to write this thing in a scrapbook, wheres my notepad? I would still have all those problems. I might still overcook the fish fingers. Those things are not going to magically transform because your house has changed. At the beginning I thought that money couldve saved my family. Very quickly I realised that money is not the thing.

Her conflict in wanting to being huge and commercial versus credible and ahead of the curve has been a persistent tension threaded through MIAs career. When I got into the music game, it was never an option to shut up and make lots of money. she says. To be a huge pop star, I would have to be, like, Yes, I think bombing Afghanistan was a great idea, I love our democracy and what it has achieved. I love the American flag and Im going to make a jumpsuit out of it. I just think it was important to have all of those Arab Springs, and its great and lets drink Coca-Cola. I had to do that, and do it all in a thong. Could I have done that if it meant that my mum had the nicest house in Chiswick by the river?

Click here to se the video for MIAs Bad Girls.

Does she worry about money now? If youre preaching living within your means, you have to, to some extent. But I also know that if youre someone in society that speaks out about injustice or political issues, one of the things that happens is that you get economically punished, 100%. I take that hit all the time.

The most recent, obvious example was MIA being forced to quit her headline slot at Afropunk last year, following a contentious quote in which she asked in an interview why Beyonc and Kendrick Lamar might not discuss why Muslim lives matter or Syrian lives matter. I dont regret [raising the issue], she says, with triumphant chutzpah. You saw how bad it was. And the Muslim ban didnt happen just with Trump, it was already happening under Obama. But you couldnt say that about him, you couldnt say that he introduced the Muslim ban, or banned seven different countries, or was already monitoring people, or dropped more bombs than Trump has. In truth, Obamas administration did identify the seven countries on Trumps list for additional screening measures, but it didnt bar their nationals. Shes already skipped ahead. The quantity of damage cant be quantified right now, she insists. Well have to wait the four years. After eight years of Obama, we kind of knew [his failings], but we just werent allowed to say them because he was so great. He was better than any person in Hollywood that I wouldve watched. He was really likable and just had loads of swag. That doesnt mean that you have to deny the truth, though.

This (and much more) comes moments after she tells me she has no time for opinions these days. She claims she doesnt read the news any more and that her primary sources for information are customers at the local kebab shop, taxi drivers and then sort of figuring it out. What about the state of the world? MIAs moment as an agitprop pop activist has never seemed more potent. Politics? I have no time for these things because Im so stuck in the zone. Ive become a hermit. [Meltdown] is actually giving me the chance to actually go out and meet people again. Ive gone for weeks without talking to a person, I do that happily. I tell her I dont believe her, as I suspect it would be a recipe for her to go fully barmy.

Im actually quite an extreme person, so I dont see that as madness. I see that as, like, solitude, doing a phase of solitude is not that bad. After declaring her fifth album AIM to be her final one, shes also trying to find new ways to channel her creativity. Im trying to write a film. I havent stepped into it yet because I want it to be good. Once you hit the start button you cant really stop it. She has, she tells me, the added complication of ADD to contend with. When was that diagnosed? I just have it. Dont even need diagnosis, its a waste of time, its a waste of the NHS. In truly blithe MIA style, she adds: Its just when you have too many ideas and not enough ways to get them out.

MIAs Meltdown is at the Southbank Centre, SE1, 9-18 June

Read more: http://ift.tt/2rBtxTD

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[trendingnewsb]

MIA: This is a white country, you dont have to spell it out to me

Maya Arulpragasam is bringing dancehall, hip-hop and grime to this years Meltdown. Is the outspoken British Sri Lankan the best argument for positive cultural appropriation?

The Guardian said that you couldnt shag to my record. As conversational openers go, MIAs beats the banal niceties of, say, Hello, how are you doing?. Its no surprise that she charges straight into a chat about why her last album was considered too confrontational for the bedroom by this paper. Its an icebreaker moulded to MIAs very own design: abrasive, compelling, underpinned by sex. Yeah, she finally concedes with a grin when I suggest we move past it, you cant have it all, can you?

Its a theme she warms up to when we talk about her edition of Meltdown at the Southbank Centre, which were ostensibly here to discuss. Usually, I wouldnt do something like this, she says, slouched under an oversized khaki coat dress. [But the organisers] were like: Hey, you can do whatever you want. Still, putting on the South Banks annual festival, curated in previous years by the likes of David Bowie, David Byrne and Patti Smith, has turned out to be a fairly arduous affair for MIA who says she doesnt do computers at the moment.

They didnt tell me it was nine days long. I thought it was a weekend. And then all my lists were, like, Well, this person wont be in London and that person is doing Glastonbury. Organising festivals is actually really complicated, she stresses. It wasnt just about dreaming something and then it appeared. Programming literally means, like, programming.

For all that Maya Arulpragasam didnt quite know what she was letting herself in for, one suspects the Southbank Centre didnt either; logistics aside, the mornings photoshoot has already been met with some flapping from the press officer made nervous by MIA climbing on the roof without safety clearance. Still, her lineup dancehall, Brooklyn hip-hop, depressive Swedish rap and Nigerian grime is perhaps the most underground the festival has seen in its 24 years. How much is she expecting to shake up its comfortable concert halls, cafe bars and conference-room spaces?

Click here to watch the video for last years Go Off.

When I was a teenager in London, I would just get a Travelcard and go somewhere, explore the city and go to weird places, she says. I would never judge the place, like, This is middle class and white. This is a white country, you dont have to spell it out to me, but there wasnt ever a limit on where I could go or what I could do.

A long, elliptical digression on London then and now follows, which takes in the optimistic multiculturalism of the 90s, Tamil house parties, empire and British identity. Its the bento box of an MIA interview: individually contained ideas that dont obviously bleed into one another and yet, overall, make a collective sense if youre prepared to go with it. Thats the key thing about MIA: you have to be willing to go with her to properly get her. Given that she still looks and sounds like a beautiful, bratty, art-school upstart and is prone to labyrinthine tangents, its easy to portray her as inarticulate or unhinged. But MIAs intelligence is instinctive rather than intellectual, and fuelled by the political.

The Mehrabian maxim that reckons that only 7% of communication is verbal is one that might best be proven by the transcript of a chat with MIA removed of all tone, attitude, context and body language. Take, for instance, her explanation of why only the future remains relevant:

As humans, we dont use our past and our history to work out the importance of what our role is in the present, she says. And if you cant use the past to define your present, then it should not be an element that holds back the future. Greece is a perfect example. More than Britain, they were brought to their knees, and not a single white country thought about saving them. And it was part of their heritage. Its where their mythology comes from or their concept of capitalism and democracy comes from. Nobody cared, everybody cared about the modern. Right?

Kim Kardashian is actually more powerful than Greece. She has more money than the whole of Greece, she continues. Therefore, thats where the power lies. If you then define it that way, then you kind of just have to live with that. And maybe whats happening in modern society: that if youre going to judge it by that, then other countries are gonna come in and define the future.

In print, its a statement that seems lacking in logic and coherence. In the moment, Im fairly sure Im able to follow her and we go on to consider how and where this future is being defined (for the record: You cant ignore the fact that China is going to be doing their thing in the next 50 years) and how Arulpragasam believes the immigration issue has become a red herring covering up a truth that can explain the American and British swing to conservative populism.

With Brexit, the idea was to get away from Europe and reinvent our identity, she says. And really, that identity was going to be American, but then they gave us Trump! So, everyone now is like, Oh shit, what is Britain? Are we going to rewind back to the 1800s? We cant. Its too late for that. So, going forward, we need a charismatic leader who then va va vooms the British identity. And we dont have that either.

People thinking that Im a bitch is totally unwarranted … MIA. Photograph: Stephanie Sian Smith/The Guide

The prime minister has called a snap election on the day we meet. Does MIA have any faith in our political system? Or in the left?

Everyone keeps going, Corbyn cant do this, but its, like, well, who else is there? she says. If people just left him alone to actually do the job and actually gave him some support, maybe hed be different. Treating him with so much contempt fighting that takes all his energy. How the fuck do you expect him to do interesting things? In any case insists the estranged daughter of a Tamil revolutionary, politicians are people who couldnt get jobs somewhere else.

MIAs politics, unwieldy and unslick though they may be, have often made her an easy target for tedious sneering in the press; the most insistent narrative is that, like Banksy, shes big on arch, subversive statement but lacks substance. Or that she is a hypocrite for making herself the poster girl for the worlds most marginalised people. And yet, shes one of the best pop stars Britain has ever produced. For all the ear-clanging experimentation of her five albums, MIA has always kept a sleeve full of pop bangers Bucky Done Gun, Paper Planes, Bad Girls, Finally that have sounded like little that came before or since her. Even if she didnt have the tunes, here is an art-school refugee Sri Lankan single mother with a visual aesthetic co-opted by everyone from Vetements to Versace who was born into political rebellion and revels in controversy. Gleefully gauche and carefree, MIA is the best argument for when cultural appropriation works. Bland singer-songstress beloved of Radio 2 playlists she isnt. So how much has the criticism bothered her?

People thinking that Im a bitch is totally unwarranted because Im not, she ays. I just had to fight for shit, and I still do. I just dont care any more. I dont know. She stops and starts. What I deal with as an artist, the media, the public persona, its a walk in the fucking park, compared to how confusing the universe really fucking is. Theres so much beauty in it and theres so much mystery, theres so much confusing shit in it. That is way more interesting to think about than why, like, Patricia hates me. You know what I mean? I laugh. Its like, Who the fuck is Patricia? and How can Patricia say this shit about me?. It just does not matter to me at all.As it is, she says shes most preoccupied with how to be a functioning grown up, an adult and a mother to an eight-year-old son (whose father Benjamin Bronfman is son to the billionaire heir of the Seagram fortune) born into immense privilege.

When the war came to an end in Sri Lanka in 2009, it actually did affect me, she explains. Everyone was, like, What the fuck does she know? Shes, like, a pop star, but that was my life. It was 50% of who I was, it was my identity. I didnt know what to do with myself. So I had a kid. Its the year the cause died, but the year my personal cause my son was born. And then, OK, I have to figure out what to do in very small parameters: I have a son, how is he going to see his grandma, am I going to make it there on Saturday? Can I make sure that I dont mess up his head by being depressed about certain things?

She struggles to reconcile her upbringing poor and living in Sri Lanka for her childhood to poor and living on a council estate in Mitcham, south London, in her adolescence with her sons. Im not very straightforward as an immigrant. That whole My kids would never see the pain that I saw; Im not like that. Im totally up for reintroducing him to the pain. I dont have any qualms about that. Her problems havent changed, she says, because of money or better circumstances. Whether Im in a mansion or a council flat, I would feel the same anxiety waking up going: I need to write this thing in a scrapbook, wheres my notepad? I would still have all those problems. I might still overcook the fish fingers. Those things are not going to magically transform because your house has changed. At the beginning I thought that money couldve saved my family. Very quickly I realised that money is not the thing.

Her conflict in wanting to being huge and commercial versus credible and ahead of the curve has been a persistent tension threaded through MIAs career. When I got into the music game, it was never an option to shut up and make lots of money. she says. To be a huge pop star, I would have to be, like, Yes, I think bombing Afghanistan was a great idea, I love our democracy and what it has achieved. I love the American flag and Im going to make a jumpsuit out of it. I just think it was important to have all of those Arab Springs, and its great and lets drink Coca-Cola. I had to do that, and do it all in a thong. Could I have done that if it meant that my mum had the nicest house in Chiswick by the river?

Click here to se the video for MIAs Bad Girls.

Does she worry about money now? If youre preaching living within your means, you have to, to some extent. But I also know that if youre someone in society that speaks out about injustice or political issues, one of the things that happens is that you get economically punished, 100%. I take that hit all the time.

The most recent, obvious example was MIA being forced to quit her headline slot at Afropunk last year, following a contentious quote in which she asked in an interview why Beyonc and Kendrick Lamar might not discuss why Muslim lives matter or Syrian lives matter. I dont regret [raising the issue], she says, with triumphant chutzpah. You saw how bad it was. And the Muslim ban didnt happen just with Trump, it was already happening under Obama. But you couldnt say that about him, you couldnt say that he introduced the Muslim ban, or banned seven different countries, or was already monitoring people, or dropped more bombs than Trump has. In truth, Obamas administration did identify the seven countries on Trumps list for additional screening measures, but it didnt bar their nationals. Shes already skipped ahead. The quantity of damage cant be quantified right now, she insists. Well have to wait the four years. After eight years of Obama, we kind of knew [his failings], but we just werent allowed to say them because he was so great. He was better than any person in Hollywood that I wouldve watched. He was really likable and just had loads of swag. That doesnt mean that you have to deny the truth, though.

This (and much more) comes moments after she tells me she has no time for opinions these days. She claims she doesnt read the news any more and that her primary sources for information are customers at the local kebab shop, taxi drivers and then sort of figuring it out. What about the state of the world? MIAs moment as an agitprop pop activist has never seemed more potent. Politics? I have no time for these things because Im so stuck in the zone. Ive become a hermit. [Meltdown] is actually giving me the chance to actually go out and meet people again. Ive gone for weeks without talking to a person, I do that happily. I tell her I dont believe her, as I suspect it would be a recipe for her to go fully barmy.

Im actually quite an extreme person, so I dont see that as madness. I see that as, like, solitude, doing a phase of solitude is not that bad. After declaring her fifth album AIM to be her final one, shes also trying to find new ways to channel her creativity. Im trying to write a film. I havent stepped into it yet because I want it to be good. Once you hit the start button you cant really stop it. She has, she tells me, the added complication of ADD to contend with. When was that diagnosed? I just have it. Dont even need diagnosis, its a waste of time, its a waste of the NHS. In truly blithe MIA style, she adds: Its just when you have too many ideas and not enough ways to get them out.

MIAs Meltdown is at the Southbank Centre, SE1, 9-18 June

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