#or maybe it’s the themes of consumption. And the fact that that literally do eat her

[jeeliebeeliegoomiebear]

if someone ever wants to know what it would be like to wield Total Power over me and my fickle human heart all they have to do is create an edit of Falin Touden to Strangers by Ethel Cain. just thinking abt the potential final product is making my tummy ache with emotion. this is serious business.

[astrow0rldx]

Jeffrey Dahmer Birth Chart Reading

analysis

brah astrology is so real i can't even fathom. what's going on up there?

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Experienced Astrologer for 7-8 years now. I'm new to networking, tumblr and having an astrology content account & paid readings so just follow my private Instagram account universalstarbaby00 for any inquiry ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

lets talk about his chart ruler. he's a libra ascendant, so his perception & outlook on life is finding love. he is very attractive, charming, charismatic, and alluring. So with libra ruling his chart, his chart ruler is his Venus. His Venus placement is Taurus in the 8th house. Now the sign is how it's expressed. the behavior & the house is the theme of life & area it resides in. So taurus literally represents food & 8th house represents death. Venus literally represents his turn ons, how he is towards love. Taurus is your physical pleasures, your sensual pleasures, being at home in venus, he strongly connected with that. while libra is aesthetic artistic venus because it is an air sign. taurus is more luxurious, physical venus because it is an earth sign. taurus, actually rules the body, the neck, food, so yea he was into that. BUTTTT in the 8th house. of death, possession, power, sex. 8th house is all about possessions of others & it deals with the darker sides & under world. this is where your trauma is, rebirth/regeneration, injuries/accidents/diseases, destruction & death, to gain power. where you possess others & have desire, hidden & secrets, have control & receive support like money & finances, seduction, temptation, possessiveness, jealousy, obligations, taxes. That's LITERALLY where his love lived. Not only his love & venus but his sun at 0 degrees SHARP! his ego, his sense of self, his will, his identity. & his mercury (his mindset, way you process & think, ideas, communicate) lives there too. SCARYYYYY.

But that mars sign tho. Where your mars is places we get to see what drove him, what motivated him, his primal desires. In the expression & behavior of aries, he was definitely PASSIONATE, aggresive, sitting at home in mars. but firing it up. These Primal Desires living in the 6th house of themes & areas of life like daily routine, "what I have to do", health, pets, slaves, clients, servants, contribution to society. He was determined to do what he had to do with a lot of passion, he was a hard worker & got through obstacles. Really felt adrenaline in completing projects, and with other dark placements like his, when your turned on by eating dead people, you get that passion to want to do that a lot. Like he said once he started he couldn't stop, maybe the victims and the goal he accomplished was fulfilling his desires. Now mars is your primal desires & what motivates you but like we know that's shown in your sexual desires to. So people with this placement are really freaky because they might want to have sex everyday. Now they may like to serve their partners, or get horny in places like work or when people are serving them. I'm literally black so I hope I don't get criticism for saying this, but while 6th house rules slaves & mars lived there, he probably was sexually passionate to the fact that black people could be his slaves & they reminded him of someone that could serve him & do what they "have" to do. Black people aren't slaves ofc, and people aren't associated with slavery. He was probably raised in a family, it was the 60's. His subconscious & information consumption did that to his brain.

Speaking on that! Lets to get to this prominent, Neptune Ascending, Living in the first house. Neptune rules the other dimensions, spirituality, astral projection, sleeping, dreams, fantasies, daydreams, ideas, Movies, Tv shows, Inspiration. That up in the clouds energy. So people with Neptune in its first house trip people out, they confuse people. they project fantasies onto others. deceitful & very confused between reality and their heads. harley have any boundaries. So people like that might be egotistal & always play victim/be passive aggressive. so then i want to look at his ego myself (which is his sun sign) & how he thinks, which we said before is both in the 8th house of hidden, secrets, dark stuff, death & sex.

lastly before I punch in some asteroids in his chart, lets talk about YOU GUYS!! HIS VIEWERS. In his 10th house is his reputation, his aura & public image. when you look at historians & celebrities you see how they fit in this world, and its shown in their 10th house. his Uranus is their. the planet of the freaks & aliens. the one who is theoritical & coming up with something new, different, kinky, inventive, odd. like wtffff or woahhhhh. AND NEXT his 11th house, of social media, networking, groups, ideals, community (which also rules uranus) so that revolutionary, inventive, wishes & goals energy. It's the house of the humanitarian so we can change humanity. Aquarius is an air sign (ruled by the 11th house) very good with people. So 11th house can even be how you make friends, who's your friends. How you network & get around. "I know a guy". Anyways that's the house so area of life. theme of life where his pluto & north node lives. your pluto is your trauma, death & rebirth. your transformation, power & sex. so networking & how he got around humanitarianly was, those areas of life with his friends & social media (netflix), network (whoever broadcasted about him) was his rebirth, his transformation, his DEATH. one of the people in his group/community (jail) killed him. Jeffery Dahmer is dead. 8th house represents death to ruling pluto. his sun mercury & venus is there so his ego mind & love literally killed him. Another planet in the 11th house, of networking, social media like netflix, (this for all the people that know him off the show). North Node, what your supposed to become in this lifetime, your purpose is placed there. He was meant to be networked.

Okay you know I had to put Nessus (7066) in. Nessus is an abuser. The area of life it fell in, themes of life is.... drumroll please...... THE 8TH HOUSE, of death, sex, power, etc. But theres us, we live in the 10th house of his public image, reputation, social status, that's our version of him. (111) Ate & (128) Nemesis lives there. Ate is about infatuation, mischief, blindfold-ness. Nemesis is about your arch enemies. Eros (433) & Lust (4386) conjuncts his mars, blending in & amplifying. VERYYY sexual man. In the sign of Aries of assertiveness, aggression, drive & motivation. towards the 6th house of health, what i have to do, daily routines, job, work, clients, slaves, & pets. Last two asteroids lives in the 5th house. what he did that made him shine, his creativity & drama, his pleasures & orgasm. The first Asteroid is Anubis (1912). Anubis is an Ancient Egyptian God, which ancient Egypt (before known as Kemet) originated civilization. He was the original god of the dead. hmmm. So he fell in his house of how Jeffery likes to play & pleasure himself. Last asteroid, that also fell in that house was Zeus (5731) God of War & Sexual Power. OKAY IM DONE. because whatttttt!

[honeycreammilkshake]

Fun fact, in chainsawman the protagonist pities one villain and eats them, later that villain reappears as a little kid

Gege is also friend of Fujimoto (chainsawman) I wonder if he will do the same for Jjk and have some kid sukuna appearing

Omg, anon! That's such an amazing idea.

Honestly, I really liked what was going on between Makima and Denji... and now that I think about it, it's because there are a lot of parallels between them and Sukuita.

To answer your ask, I wouldn't be surprised if we get a similar fate for our cursed boys. Reincarnation has been a very interesting theme in JJK, especially in the Culling Game arc and how cursed spirits can keep re-manifesting (like the csm devils do). And it makes me think it's a very viable option for both Sukuna and Yuuji.

This scene was heartbreaking because Sukuna chose death over love, but I don't think Yuuji's letting him go that easy. Even if Sukuna currently cannot come back as himself, there's a chance he might get reincarnated. Yuuji says "Let's try again" which could in fact refer to starting life all over again from the start. Either way, no matter what fate Sukuna is dealt, Yuuji is waiting with open arms to receive him. He is the only one who can and wants to live with Sukuna, after all.

But to bring it back to Makima and Denji, what I find really fascinating is their relationship even after Makima is revealed to be the Control Devil. During their last fight, Denji finally manages to overpower her. Despite everything, though, he was still in love with her... which is why he ate her.

He cannot forgive Makima for killing everyone else, but he does say he can share in her sins.

It's much like the scene between Sukuna and Yuuji, where Yuuji literally offers to bear the curse alongside Sukuna, to accept him and live with him even if no one else can.

Cannibalism as a form of love is a common theme in poetry (which is very fitting when you realize Sukuna is both a cannibal and poetry snob himself) and is also associated with the consumption of those you want to keep close to you as explored very well in Chainsaw Man.

So that's why I'm also wondering... maybe in the end Yuuji will ultimately force Sukuna back inside of him? If not reincarnation, there's also a chance that he'll do what he did at the start of this whole story and consume the curse of Sukuna again. It would be a very fitting and symbolic ending, one that perfectly reflects the beginning, and it makes sense that someone determined like Yuuji wouldn't take no as an answer to his offer of compassion.

It's clear to me that Yuuji cares about Sukuna. And he might just care enough to consume Sukuna and let him resurrect inside of Yuuji's body once more.

Thank you for sharing your amazing thoughts, anon <3

[livlepretre]

I was wondering when did Elena exactly become accustomed to the horrific actions of her vampire suitors? I know it must’ve been a gradual change, but my guess is that after she was rescued from her 3 year exile, she must’ve acknowledged the fact that she must accept to live with these murderers without being phased or bothered (as long as she’s not the focus of the violence) in order to enjoy her life to an extent. Like to me, in FE 64 it seemed like her moral compass was so unbalanced compared to the usual (maybe it seemed like that to me because we had to wait a while for the update but idk) - it was clear that one of the main themes of this chapter was to emphasize the mental change Elena has underwent since the beginning of the story. Would you be able to give us some insight?

Also how are you how are you doing? I’m planning on starting to read 100 years of exile and some of your other book recommendations cause I need to get my mind off of this fic in order to not torture myself on waiting for the update. 💝💐

Quite a question.

I think a lot of this actually starts on the show before the point of canon divergence.

In episode 7, she slaps Damon because of how "[he] hurts people"-- this, to me, is an expression of Elena's baseline sense of morality-- a very normal, well-adjusted disgust against harming others, and a willingness to take and articulate a moral stand-- and to back it up with force if necessary. She does her best here, and she also does her best a few episodes later to try to stop Damon from opening the tomb-- in large part to prevent the tomb vamps from escaping and wreaking havoc, if I recall correctly. (If I don't, forgive me: it's been like a decade since I've watched season 1).

(actually, this probably means I should go rewatch season 1 now)

By the end of the season we get some unnerving hints at things. She's not too torn up by Stefan attacking that girl at the founder's ball. Isobel gives her that warning about the path she's on so long as she has a Salvatore on each arm.

then: she forgives Damon for murdering her brother. HUGE red flag. Yes, it was undone, but he still did it.

She also moves on from Caroline eating that guy in 2x02 like it was just a small misdemeanor. Remember, it's Bonnie who cares that that happened, Elena just wants to move on with helping Caroline adjust.

then, in Kill or Be Killed, Damon, Caroline, and Stefan are responsible for the murders (and consumption!) of the Sheriff's deputies. Elena literally does not bat an eyelash. It's astonishing. I feel like SO much more weight should be given to this, because she literally hangs around while people she presumably knows at least as acquaintances get murdered. but she pretty much just moves past it because the ones doing the murdering are her friends and beloveds.

We have tons more examples-- classmates getting dropped like flies, acquaintances getting killed and eaten-- she's less and less affected by it.

I think she has a horror in the beginning of Fairytale Ending by the scale and the gruesomeness of the vampire attacks she witnesses-- but a lot of it is also tied up in her feelings of powerlessness. She tried to help Sasha and Zoe. They both died. Klaus promised her not to kill Matt-- so he had Stefan do it instead. But even in those early chapters, with things like the head detaching and rolling across the parlor floor, or the party where Stefan drains all of the guests, or any other incident-- she's not really thinking about the specific horror of those people dying. She's thinking about her jealousy, her relationship with Stefan, how she pities him and feels so upset on his behalf; she's analyzing her power dynamics with Klaus, and Rebekah, and the sexual dynamics between Klaus, Rebekah, and Stefan.

The only REAL horror she seems to have is when she kills that witch-- because that is the first murder on her hands-- and later, when she sets up Klaus to murder their way out of the compound in chapter 22.

She gets over it, but it does stick with her.

Like, she can and does cope by reminding herself of what they would wish to do to her.

There is a lot of bloodshed after that, at the Abattoir when they return, but she's by now got skin in the game in terms of finding the bloodstone, and she's seen a lot, and it's only the ones she loves that she actually cares about.

That's why Tyler's torture haunts her. She loves Tyler, and his torture was her fault.

She faces this directly within herself that summer in exile with Rebekah-- she realizes that Rebekah's out hunting, sometimes, and she decides not to be upset about it. It definitely took her exile and loneliness and emotional catharsis and survival to get to this point, and it did transform her. She talks about this explicitly around the time she arrives in New York-- she tells Klaus that their hunting won't bother her and points out, with Rebekah confirming, that she never complained a peep about it over the summer.

So by the time she's in New York, she's definitely observing a lot of their predatory behavior, fully aware of where it's going, and she's not especially affected by it. Like, there is still revulsion there, still unease and horror, but it gets less and less with time.

I did want to bring this transformation in Elena into focus in this last chapter, which is why it's brought up numerous times, but really, she's been on the road to this level of non-concern for quite a while. Hopefully, if you ever plan a reread, with the chapters back to back rather than spaced months (or years!) apart, this will gel more fully and feel more gradual.

And! did you ever read 100 years of solitude? because! that is just so my very favorite book of all time!

[braintasting]

Messiah of Evil and the Word made Flesh.

This film was not as "bad" as I was expecting. The frequent references to "surreal" in write-ups had me anticipating nonsense or non-sequiturs, encounters with gore trumping character development ("why would you DO that??") or plot ("how did THAT happen??") ... but Messiah of Evil didn't actually fall prey to any of that. I think if it had been more "bad" it would have been remembered better.

What it is is creepy. Dreams and memory are a theme, as well as using traces of the present to reconstruct the past. It's a B-movie, so there are some limitations. And, reading up on it after watching, it's easy to see that the filmmakers (husband and wife team Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz) would also have been Howard the Duck fans (they co-created the famous Marvel flop). This film has some of the same bizarreness of the original comic books without any of the absurdist humor.

It's also got the same sincerity under all the strangeness.

Is it a zombie movie? It was, for a while, released under the alternate title Return of the Living Dead, no relation to the 1980s franchise, and semi-successfully sued by George Romero's folks for infringing on his film. Some commentators seem to want the cannibals in this to be vampires, but they're not. They eat flesh. The gradually-unveiled origin story lies in the Donner Party expedition and a preacher who survived by consuming his companions and turning to a new god to worship.

There is a theme of consumption - the key scenes are of ordinary-looking suburbanites killing and eating attractive, hedonistic hippie chicks in a grocery store and a movie theater. And there's also a theme of infection.

No, not infection. The condition is a physical condition - body temperature drops, victims become hungry for flesh and immune to pain, and there's some kind of, if not decay, then at least playing host to the worms and bugs and creepy-crawlies associated with rotting corpses. But the condition is a symptom of a spiritual understanding. Dreams come, and compulsions to stare at the moon. Poetic diary entries start to take on literal significance. It's a film about conversion.

There's an apocalyptic promise in this one, much like the "when there's no more room in Hell..." line from the later Dawn... and Day of the Dead Romero movies. Only those seem to be a little more mathematical: This many dead people can infect and/or kill that many living people, making them become dead people who then infect more... etc. Messiah of Evil really is about a messiah who returns, in an experience that seems both literal (the dark preacher walks back out of the ocean a hundred years after he walked into it) and also personal, spiritual. The horde of cannibal converts are waiting for the signs in the sky to be right and their spiritual leader to return before they march inland and spread to new towns. They don't seem to be particularly hungry about it. They seem to want to spread the word.

That puts the ghouls of Point Dume in an odd category. They're never referred to as zombies, or vampires, or anything other than cannibals. They don't seem to be entirely mindless; they seem normal, until they get close enough to take a bite. They're possibly similar to the Deadites of the Evil Dead franchise, which are basically people possessed violently by demonic entities who leave and return almost randomly. But they're not even interested in scaring their victims. A few folks are hunted, like rabbits by a pack of dogs, but these hounds aren't in it to scare the rabbit. They just want to eat it, because that's what they do.

1975 seems like a year when the idea of "cults" was gaining in currency, and maybe also when anxiety between "normal" society - church, business, maybe even self-help books - and "cult" society - offering pre-fab meaning in an ever-more meaningless world - was mounting. The fact that this is a movie that featured what I have to read as a polycule of longhairs as "the good guys," alongside a bohemian painter's daughter seems really central to the horror here. And there are Lovecraftian echoes - the old preacher in the sea, a half-mad drunk who reveals the town's religious secrets to outsiders before meeting his own doom - that evoke ideas like "the old gods" and the Church of the Starry Wisdom, which, if you remember, set up shop in a Christian church in order to open up the facility to pre-Christian religions.

These are not Voudoun zombies like Sugar Hill, they're not demonic zombies like [REC], and they're not even natural law snapping back after being pushed too far like in World War Z. I think they're cult zombies.

[chalkrevelations]

OK, Word of Honor Ep 24. Spoilers, of course, so scroll away if you haven’t seen it and want to see it unspoiled.

First impression, right out of the gate – Four Seasons Manor is … very pink. Almost as pink as Wen Kexing, himself, in his current get-up. Also, it’s the place where we apparently take in and heal wounded animals, so we’re at the correct next stop on this journey. Aaaaand, then, what we’re going to do in the obligatory mid-episode extended emo-porn scene for this ep is literally sit around in our Fantasy Ancient China underwear, gaze longingly at each other, grasp each other’s hands, practically sit in each other’s laps, and have emotional, tear-filled heart-to-heart talks. We’re really going there. Good on you, show. No, seriously, this is exactly what I’m here for, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for delivering what you promised. Additional props for making sure Zhou Zishu looks so very pretty when he cries. Or maybe I should be thanking Zhang Zhehan and his perfect face for that, although I’m sure your lighting and camera people made some small contribution. Maybe. By the way, I notice that even in the sleeping robes, ZZS is wearing two layers. Are you currently playing a Victorian maiden because you’re consumptive and the cold is bothering you more than anyone else, or are you scandalized that your husband might catch a glimpse of ankle before the candles are blown out, my friend? I feel that either is a possibility, but given that you spent the first six eps of the show tits out in your beggar robes, I feel like it’s a little late to be clutching your collar closed.

A few touchpoints with other points of the show in this scene, maybe most prominently – ugh - the way I’m catching shades of Xie Wang and his Awful Yifu in the flashback scene with Zhou Zishu and Prince Jin. The fact that your interpersonal tactics are looking kind of like Awful Yifu’s interpersonal tactics does not fill me with confidence, Prince Jin, with your supposed vulnerability and how only he can help you and the hugs and when can he come and help you. It makes me uneasy, Prince Jin. Am I supposed to be uneasy about this? (Is this a deliberate unease you are creating in me, show?) Because it’s going to turn out that you’re going to take this kid, Prince Jin, this cousin of yours who’s struggling with all his might to support his own sect, who’s vulnerable at just the wrong (right for you, I guess) time, and you’re going to turn him into a murder weapon in pursuit of power and your own personal agenda, and that … that sounds kind of familiar and Awful, Prince Jin. I’m kind of questioning how much you actually care about this kid and how much you’re maybe gaslighting him in this scene. The fact that you were willing to have him sacrifice his entire sect for you, leaving him isolated, with no one in the world except you … I’m getting kind of a familiar creepy vibe off you, Prince Jin.

Also, I did twig that the poem you quoted as the poem that your shared laoshi wrote on the walls of his prison in blood before his body was cast out into the wilderness to be eaten by wild dogs – it’s the same poem you recite as Zhou Zishu rides away from his own bloody cage when he manages to escape Tian Chuang and you in Ep 1, so maybe you realized that keeping him, at that point, was only going to kill him immediately, but I’m not feeling particularly sanguine about the fact that you vowed to get him back. The fact that he’s supposed to be powerless and increasingly vegetative only makes this vow more creepy, because what DO you need want him for, in that case? (Also, did your laoshi write that poem at all? Or was that more gaslighting?)

They’re also pressing hard on the theme of “knowing” in this one, of knowing someone – we’ve always got the bedrock idea of zhiji, the one who knows you, tying Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing together, but that’s complicated, in ways this ep points up. Zhou Zishu says that the reason his other shidi died tragically is that they didn’t know him at all, but by contrast, he tells WKX that there’s nothing between them that can’t be spoken and then goes all in by revealing all of his deepest, darkest secrets, including that he sees himself as a coward and a deserter. This is in contrast with WKX’s (and A-Xiang’s) current stealth mode of hiding everything and just not talking about it. In this ep, we even see A-Xiang’s decision - for herself and as proxy for WKX’s actions (because these two relationships are the same relationship, at this point) – to say nothing about the latest jianghu big gossip re: the devils of the Ghost Valley, but instead to beat it out of town as fast as she can with her boyfriend before he can hear about it. Because that isn’t going to come back to bite anyone in the ass. A-Xiang, I love you to death, and I realize you’re terrified, but I really need you to get off the mental hamster wheel where this is concerned and THINK.

Anyway, nowhere in Zhou Zishu’s telling of this tale of how he’s the ultimate failure who killed everyone he ever loved because he was naive enough to be taken in by a power-hungry asshole is there the slightest indication that he thinks any of this info will make his shidi/zhiji turn away from him, and indeed, Wen Kexing’s response to further knowing his zhiji is to say, but you have to stop blaming yourself, you must have had your reasons. Even though Wen Kexing won’t, can’t, see that Zhou Zishu’s response to him opening up and letting Zhou Zishu actually know him would be the exact same response. I mean, ffs, my dude. The guy told you last ep that he will help you burn down Zhao Jing. Take a hint. But no, Wen Kexing's response is to have to flee outside where he can Be Alone and mentally and emotionally curl up to protect all the tenderest and most vulnerable places. Also to tootle his xiao throughout the night outside his crush’s window like the worst emo kid ever. Wen Kexing, we are at the place for healing wounded animals. I love you to death, and I realize you’re terrified, but I really need you to get off the mental hamster wheel where this is concerned and THINK. Get there faster.

I thought this one would be shorter than the Ep 23 reax, but it’s not, really, is it? Final random thoughts:

Listen, are we ever going to actually deal with the fact that Wen Kexing is responsible for Zhang Chengling’s entire family and sect being massacred? Because that actually came up again in the ep, and we might want to get a jump on it.

Baby Zhou-zongzhu, who is struggling desperately to keep your sect together while bigger and stronger sects around you try to eat you up, I have a bitter angry grape two turns to your left who might be willing to commiserate with you.

Speaking of AU ideas – I’m sure someone has written this, but I am wary about rummaging too deep into the WoH fic yet, because although I have been spoiled for a few things, I don’t want to be completely spoiled. But has anyone tackled the idea of what it would look like if Wen Kexing had grown up in Four Seasons Manor? Would the guy who clawed his way up to be leader of Ghost Valley be able to give his shixiong enough support that they never have to go to Prince Jin, even if he didn’t have the experience of growing up in Ghost Valley? Would he have followed Zhou Zishu into Tian Chuang with the rest of Four Seasons Manor? And if he did, would Zhou Zishu have made his break for freedom before Wen Kexing died? If he didn't follow into Tian Chuang, what would their separation look like? What would their reunion look like? And what would WKX have been doing in the meantime? (Would there have been illicit meetings, or would ZZS completely cut him off to protect him?)

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [05]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 4.7k a/n; can u believe this fic is already over halfway done??? i feel more loved and supported for angel’s trumpet w each chapter! i hope u enjoy a more fluffier chapter and some insight on the separate relationships. thank u for the support!

[04] [05] [06] -> masterpost

Bliss. It’s been so long since you’ve experienced this feeling. 

These past few weeks have been nothing short of wonderful, like the sweetest version of reality. Working as a language teacher at BigHit was wonderful because of the staff and the fact that in the long run, your job would be helping the rookies get to know their fans better all over the world. But your job was also incredibly strenuous, and you felt an immense amount of pressure from the higher ups to teach the rookies as much as you could in between their other lessons and training. You remember the early days you’d be crying in the bathroom, scared of their exam scores because you knew it wasn’t possible to learn a language in less than a year, but the higher ups wanted you to achieve the impossible. 

But now, teaching is like a breath of fresh air. You found it appropriate to reabsorb your classes, and you’re still getting used to the sudden heavy workload. Namjoon was over the moon when you returned to your regular office in the biology department, treating you to coffee and catching you up on what you missed. Chan almost cried when he saw you Monday morning sitting in your lecture hall, saying his grade will finally be salvaged. 

However, the cherry on top has to be your budding romance with Jungkook. 

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re still swimming in the honeymoon phase, but everything just felt right. Of course, you can only hope your W2 self was already going to interact with Jungkook in one way or another, just like you had in your world. As of late you don’t feel like you're tearing this universe apart, worrying that you’re interfering in an alternate universe. 

A buzzing interrupts your thoughts, and you pat around your mattress for your cellphone. You don’t hesitate to answer. 

“Good morning, baby,” Jungkook’s rumbly morning voice flits through your speakers. 

You swoon, shuffling and kicking under your covers. A little part of you is disgusted how easy it is to turn to butter in Jungkook’s grasp, but it’s unsurprising. “Hey handsome,” you reply, trying to hide your giddiness. 

“How do you know I look handsome? My breath smells like leftover mac n’cheese and there’s dried drool on my chin.” 

“Mm, still handsome.”

“Ugh, you’re so gross,” but you can hear him smiling on the other line. “Do you have any plans for today?” 

“Dunno.” 

“Well there’s this new bubble tea cafe I know you’d like so maybe during my lunch we can--”

The rest of the words fade away as you notice an incessant banging on your front door. Whoever wants to come in is far too eager for this early. 

It’s then your calendar notification pings, and you see the big fat message atop your phone: 

Hobi Date 🍷🍷🍷

“Oh shit—” you smack your forehead, you completely forgot today’s the day you would find Sehlyung’s wine lady. “I’ll call you later Kook, okay?” 

You end your call, throwing your phone on the bed as you dash out to answer. Taehyung is yelling from the kitchenette, “I’m trying to eat some damn salad here!” By the time you slide out in your socks and down the hall, Hoseok is already inside your humble abode, holding coffee and donuts. 

“I brought libations,” Hoseok says with a bit of flair, setting them down next to Taehyung’s breakfast. 

“Thanks man,” and Taehyung makes grabby hands towards Hoseok’s coffee, and Hoseok looks horrified before snatching it away. “C’mon man, no coffee no entry!” 

“Taehyung, this is Hoseok,” you introduce, opening the box of donuts and offering Taehyung one in truce. You look pointedly towards Hoseok, sipping idly on his coffee, “Hobi, why don’t you wait in my room before we go, okay?” 

Hoseok tilts his head, eyes darting between Taehyung and you. It’s almost comical, the way Taehyung’s early-morning brain is having a hard time processing what was going on, and you wanting to keep a lid on the situation. “Sure, mom,” he slurps obnoxiously on his americano, waltzing down the hallway and into your room. He slams the door rather sharply, and that’s when Taehyung pounces. 

“Who’s the hippie?” 

“Hippie?” you balk, “Hoseok’s not a hippie.”

Taehyung shrugs, shoving a powdered donut in his mouth and completely forgetting about the limp lettuce on his plate. So much for a balanced breakfast. “I know all your friends, but I’ve never met this one.” 

“He’s new,” you take your pick of donuts as well, picking up a vanilla glazed one with rainbow sprinkles, “we’re gonna go shopping.” 

“Oo, can I come?” 

“No,” you say a little too quickly, causing Taehyung’s eyes to widen in confusion. You quickly backtrack, even going as far as to grab a napkin and dab the powdered sugar from Taehyung’s cheeks, “it’s old people shopping. We’re sending ginseng wine to our families. No brand names there.” 

Taehyung immediately buys it, scrunching his nose. “Not my favorite,” he says to himself. “Well, have fun doing old people things. Maybe Jimin will be willing to do something cool with me.” 

And with that, he abandons the limp lettuce with a flick of his wrist, letting them out your windowsill and into your little garden for compost. You two make your separate ways, you into your room and Taehyung into the bathroom.

When you open your door, you already see Hoseok making himself comfortable on your bed, flipping through your notebook. 

“You really shouldn’t be leaving this out on your desk,” Hoseok waves the yellow pages around, trying to look serious, “Taehyung could read this and you might end up in the cuckoo house.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you search for a sweater, “As if he wouldn’t join me.” 

You pull out a large black hoodie, courtesy of Jungkook. Trying not to look like a smitten high schooler, you subtly smell the collar before slipping it over your body. You melt in the fabric, and you almost hug yourself. Since your time at BigHit, you’ve missed wearing Jungkook’s things, and that’s a constant you can’t ignore. 

“If you end up in the cuckoo house, I’ll end up there too by affiliation,” he flops on your bed, waiting for you to get ready, “so, we gonna nab an old lady today for some wine?” 

“Ohmygod. What is wrong with you? You can’t say it like that, someone could report you!” you laugh, slapping him with a long sleeve. 

“So it’s more appropriate to say, ‘let’s go find the lady’s coked up wine that could’ve potentially sent you to an alternate universe’ right?” 

“Exactly,” you grin, pulling him up with an outstretched hand, “now let’s get going before we both end up in the cuckoo house.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Jungkook thought bliss ended once he got a good filming gig and a stable job, but no, it just had to get better. 

He doesn’t want to say he’s all consumed by your presence, but he can’t get enough of you. Sometimes he has to reel it in when you go out on dates, but he feels so lucky to call you his and hold you in his arms whenever he wants. 

You dropped into his life, quite literally. One day you just showed up and barged into his life. At first it scared him, immensely. But as he got to know you, wear you down and realize that the strong, blunt woman he met on the street is just as kind and sweet and soft–

The bottom line is, Jungkook wears his heart on his sleeve and loves loudly. He feels so much for you he can’t contain it. 

Except when Jimin wants to embarrass the hell out of you when they’re going over old pictures during work. 

“Can I tell you a story about how y/n almost peed in that fountain?” Jimin points to the small thumbnail Jungkook took earlier last week. You’re perched on a large limestone fountain, smiling at the little fish tickling the sides of the bowl. 

Taehyung gwaffs, choking on his sandwich. “God, that night was incredible! I got the Snapchat receipts too, Kook. If you want to second guess your standards.” 

A loud laugh bubbles from his throat, and Jungkook eagerly leans over Taehyung’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen. 

He likes your friends, too. To the point that he can safely consider them his friends. Of course he was intimidated the first time, especially when you were so pretty in your red skirt and surrounded by your equally attractive friends, but turns out Taehyung and Jimin are equally dopey and cringey as he. 

As silly as you look crouched over the water and pulling up your skirt, he melts at how carefree you look enjoying yourself on a free night. Jimin is hauling you off the ledge, grabbing you by the waist as you fruitlessly try to kick him away. 

“Careful,” Jimin tuts, sipping at his latte. “She’s gonna kill you if she finds out you showed it to Kook.” 

Taehyung scoffs, stuffing his phone away. “She looked like she was gonna kill me today when she brought that friend over. They were acting really weird,” Taehyung points his kimchi in Jungkook’s nose, “do you know Hoseok?” 

Jungkook blinks, opting to take a bite off Taehyung’s fork, “Kinda,” he shrugs, letting the tang of the kimchi spread across his tongue, “she has office hours when he’s working at the library daycare. They have lunch together.” 

Jimin leans in, hands fold over the white cafeteria table like he’s in the mafia, “What do you mean by weird, Tae?” 

“Like, she wanted him to wait in his room and they kinda just snuck out, y’know?” Taehyung divulges, “Like I love y/n, she the home girl, but who’s secretive about buying ginseng?” 

Jungkook’s chewing slows. He trusts you, however, he doesn’t know what to make of that little tidbit. But instead he swallows his kimchi, not caring that he didn’t chew enough or that it went down uncomfortably, and steels himself. “Probably just stressed about her thesis or something, I’m sure everything’s fine.” he says smoothly, trying to convince himself that he’s right, and he’s pretty sure he is. 

“Awh, Jungkookie’s so mature since he’s started dating!” Jimin paws all over the younger one like they’re long lost siblings. His hands travel to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair simultaneously, cooing like Jungkook’s a little bunny who’s merely existing. 

There’s a blush staining Jungkook’s cheeks, but he doesn’t mind Jimin’s bouts of attention. A small smile blooms to Jungkook’s face, and confirms to himself that he’s in a good spot in his life. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“So, what are you and Jungkook like?” 

You shrug, “We’re good. It’s only been a few weeks though.” 

“No, I meant your Jungkook.” 

By definition, your Jungkook isn’t necessarily yours. However, the term is the byproduct of your current setting, and an unfortunate reminder that the Jungkook you’re dating now can never be definitively yours. 

(Or…? Can it?) 

“We were,” since when did you refer to you in and him in a past tense, “kind of a slow-burn, actually. We’d pass each other in the hall and exchange conversation during lunch in groups but, he kind of just crept up on me.” 

The train is going at a break-neck speed, the fancy rail floating across the track as it beams you closer and closer to your destination. Gone are the concrete jungles and carefully architected trees. You’re finally starting to see some natural foliage and blue seas. Today’s journey is a bit of a shot in the dark, you don’t even know what the person you’re searching for looks like, but it’s the only clear lead you have. 

“So you didn’t always know you loved him?” Hoseok asks, fiddling with the wire of his buds. 

You shrug, “I had a feeling. He’s an easy guy to fall in love with,” you don’t want to mention that nearly half the world is smitten by the Golden Boy, but from the bittersweet expression on your face Hoseok has an inkling. “There’s just a lot of factors that come with relationships. Factors that aren’t worth it. It’s easy here.” 

“It would be easy,” Hoseok replies to the air, closing his eyes. 

And he’s right. It would be easy to continue on with life, forgetting about the possibility that one day you could wake up in W1. It would be easy to forget about your other life, Beomgyu’s forgotten quiz that’s still probably lit up in your MacBook back home, Sehlyung’s wish for you to approve Jin’s new outfit. 

You wonder how your life back home is going, whether they’re moving on just like you seem to be. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You really have no idea what Sehlyung’s wine dealer looks like. Work friends are work friends, where you’re close enough to share sexy secrets to each other but not as close as to divulge family life. 

You know that Sehlyung lives in a small town closer to the shore, as she’s mentioned one too many times that her feet are baby smooth from the constant sand exfoliation. You’re vaguely aware that this is the right area, at least you hope because W2 Sehlyung could be living in Guam for all you know.

Passing by the village square, you search idly for an old lady selling ginseng wine. You didn’t realize how much a shot in the dark this could possibly be. 

“Hey,” Hoseok whisper-hisses, and you try not to ignore the spit that brushes your ear, “you said to look for an old lady, right? All these ladies. They’re old.” 

He’s right.  

The village may be small, but there were over fifty booths with plenty of old ladies selling something. It would take hours, you didn’t even know if this lady would still be selling ginseng in this life. 

Your hands fall limp at your thighs, and you point to a small house at the end of the square. It’s cute, almost cottage-like, looking more high-end than the other shops on the street. “Maybe we should eat something before we do some searching. Otherwise someone’s gonna have to scrape us off the street.” 

“Good idea.” 

Surprisingly, the interior of the establishment is nothing like the front. There’s a very authentic quirkiness to it, down to the colorful blown glass vases and the eclectic amount of alcohol lining the bar. 

Not feeling like waiting for a table, the two of you wait by the bar, hopping on the two available stools in the corner. 

The two of you don’t waste any time, telling the waiter passing by that both of you would like a heaping bowl of glass noodles. 

“Care for a glass of something sweet?” 

Looking up from their dessert menu, you see an older lady leaning over you to pour you and Hoseok a cup of tea. She’s the definition of a chill grandma, from the easy way she smiles to the colorful hoop earrings she wears. You watch as she carefully pours you a cup for you, and you get a glimpse of the beautifully painted ceramic teapot, adorned with watercolor flowers. 

“If you have some angel wine,” you lick your lips, looking straight at her, “that would be lovely.”

There’s no hesitation in her work, and the lady continues to pour Hoseok’s cup with impeccable grace. She doesn’t bat a lash at your slight jab, even goes so far as to send you a crinkly smile. 

“Fresh out, m’fraid,” she replies easily, “sold my last batch to a lovely blonde over a month ago.” 

You swallow your surprise, the bile coming up your throat returning slow and achingly hard. Hoseok’s eyes dart between you and the old lady, and you clench your hands under the table. “Thought so,” you smile tersely, “then, do you have any recommendations?” 

Hoseok noisily slurps tea, as if he’s watching a melodrama. The old lady nods eagerly, placing her ceramic mug on a nearby potholder. “I’ll whip up something extra special.” 

It isn’t until the old lady whisks away from the bar and into the bathroom does Hoseok blurt, “Is the special thing drugs? Is she giving us drugs?” 

“Who knows,” you thank the waiter who sets down two metal bowls of glass noodles in front of you, “maybe the next drink will send us to the moon.” 

“Don’t even joke about that,” Hoseok grimaces, “my fuckin’ dream is to visit the moon.” 

As you two eat in silence, the restaurant slowly dwindles down as the lunch rush leaves and the start of dinner commences. Being a weekday, there aren't many coming down to eat out. You let yourself be immersed in the hubbub of the cottage, the clinking of clean tea cups and the laughter of staff sitting in the corner table. 

The lady finally returns when you’re nearly done with your meal. There’s a tall frozen glass in her hand, ice particles clinging to the barrier. There’s an umbrella and a pineapple adorning the rim, looking uncharacteristically bright and tropical. She places it next to Hoseok’s tea.

He narrows his eyes, “This doesn’t have LSD or anything, right?” 

She laughs, the hearty sound enveloping the restaurant. “Nope. Just passionfruit and mango.” 

Hoseok easily takes her word for it, sipping happily as it washes down his dinner. 

“For me?” you pop in. 

“Ah, some advice.” 

You shrink in your seat, “I want a fruit smoothie too.” 

But you relent when she opens her palms to you, gesturing for you to give her yours. They feel calloused and worn, as if she’s spent lifetimes dedicating her life to her craft. She rubs her thumbs against your palm, sending soothing circles to your skin.

“Enjoy your time as it lasts,” she says, quiet enough for only you two to hear, “things will fall into place very soon.” 

She senses you tense, and continues to hold you. You can’t tell whether this advice is foreboding or comforting.  

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“I know what you're thinking,” Hoseok says when you return to Seoul, walking in the direction of your apartment. 

“And what exactly am I thinking, o’ wise one?” you kick a stray pepple your way, getting in a groove as you walk lazily down the sidewalk. 

“Her words,” he mumbles, “I don’t think it’s an invitation for you to get too comfortable here. Eventually… you’re gonna have to go back.” 

“I know, Hoseok.” You don’t mean to sound so agitated. After all, the mission was mostly successful. You got your answers, albeit vague ones. The old lady in the cottage simultaneously sparked and eased your soul, unfortunately it didn’t give you any definitive direction as to go on with this life, other than to simply “enjoy it.” 

“I know we’ve been debating whether you’re hallucinating or whether you’re in a coma and you’re having a really long dream or some weird mix of the two—” Hoseok jogs up to stop in-front of you, stuffing his hands in his orange cargos. He’s standing directly behind a 7-Eleven, the gaudy green and red lights lighting behind him like a halo.“And trust me, I’ve spent hours in bed thinking whether I’m real or not and potentially reaching an existential midlife crisis,” he grabs your hand and presses it to your chest, his other hand flailing wildly to the sky, “but this is real. All of it, I’m convinced it’s real. I’ve lived a long, slow, twenty-something life so far.” 

He pulls you into his arms, and you suppress a shudder as his warm embrace envelopes you. Is this some sort of punishment? For the first time in a long time, you’ve felt content. Not to say that your life in your world wasn’t normal but you could honestly admit that the time you’ve spent here is nothing short of amazing. There’s an ease to this life, something so simple and easy to love that you want to keep it in your heart and cherish it forever. 

“But ‘m gonna miss you,” you sigh into his chest, “we aren’t very close back in my world, y’know. So I’m glad I got to spend the time that I could with you.” 

“S’okay,” he mumbles into your hair, and you can feel the smile in your skin, “if we’re really meant to be friends, it’ll happen again.” 

Hoseok leaves you with these words, allowing you to breathe easy as you make the steps back to your apartment. Your feet are heavy from the day’s trek, but your mind feels lighter as you near your floor. 

You spot a young man in a long jacket hanging a bag on your doorknob, taking great care that the contents inside wouldn’t spill. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, smile widening when his gaze perks up to meet yours. It’s almost comical how he reacts to your voice, perking up like a little rabbit at the sound. 

His smile grows the closer you get to him, “Hey, pretty girl,” he murmurs, closing the space between you to press a chaste kiss on your cheek, “great timing. I got you something.”

Your eyes dart to the cup of bubble tea hanging on your doorknob. The cup is adorable, pink-tinted and rounded at the bottom with little cat ears for the lid. 

“Oh, you went! How was it?” 

“It was great! We should go once you’re free. Taehyung ordered three cups! Nearly puked all over Jimin’s couch.” 

“So,” your fingers trail up the buttons of his shirt, and you look up through your lashes, “you’re implying that my roommate isn’t inside our apartment right now.” 

He leans in, nose nudging your neck as his voice rumbles against your sensitive skin, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

You’ve never punched in your key faster, clutching the bubble tea bag to place it along the counter as the two of you clamber in. Instead of making it to your bedroom or living room, Jungkook traps your body between the doorway, cradling your face in both his hands to press a sweet kiss on your lips. 

There’s nowhere to put your hands because both of Jungkook’s are up, so you close your eyes and let yourself savor the slow taste of his lips moving against yours. Finally you decide to settle your hands on his belt buckle, absentmindedly thumbing the loops as you get lost in the feeling. 

“Mm, Kook? Koo—” he presses quick pecks to your lips, barely giving you a chance to forge complete sentences, “can we move this somewhere more comfortable? ‘M legs are turning to jelly.” 

“Glad to have that effect on you,” he replies airily, thumbs pressing into your soft skin, “but I actually have to go, so no time to get comfy.” You whine against his lips, and he chuckles. “I have a cohort meeting at 8AM. We’re gonna organize our portfolios together.”

“Nerd,” you pout, pressing a kiss to his chin.

“And me and Mingyu are meeting online for some Overwatch in like, two hours.” 

“Gamer nerd,”

“Your nerd,” he beams, his thumb reaching out to swipe the sheen from your swollen lips, “lemme plan date night to make it up to you. Minghao will be out of town for the weekend so it’ll just be me at the apartment.” 

Date night. It all sounds so domestic to you, planning out designated days to spend time together. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the fact that Jungkook sounds so settled with you is nothing short of heartening. 

“I’ll make dinner,” his fingers twine between yours, “and we’re keeping the dress code super casual. I want to see you in nothing but sweatpants and oversized t-shirts.”

“But sweatpants aren’t sexy!” 

“They are on you,” he retorts with a wiggle of his brows, “and sweatpants are easy access.” 

“Alright, as long as you don’t upstage me.”

“Never,” he grins, pearly whites on display, “now, I really gotta go.” 

He unlatches your body from his, only to have you immediately jump on him like a koala. You feel his large hands caressing your hair, taking the time to run his fingers through the tangles. You could fall asleep standing in the middle of your doorway, melting under his touch. 

“Good night, baby.” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

“Sweet dreams, nerd.” you reply reluctantly, letting him open the door so he can go. 

“Dream of me!” is the last thing he says before he forces you to shut the door, leaving you thoroughly needy and wanting for him. 

Tonight, you dream long. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Seven months ago, W1

You’re crying. There’s big, fat, ugly tears falling in rivulets along your face. You don’t even bother to wipe away the tears, just let them flow freely and dampen your pants as you watch the group take their final bow. 

From your seat, you take in the energy of the concert like it’s your last breath. The purple confetti dusting your hair, the slow remix blasting through the speakers. The sea of stars swimming across the stadium, all for them. 

You wait until everybody’s long gone before you get up from your seat. Until the only people that surround you are staff and clean-up crew, forcing you to leave. Your face still feels achy and your cheeks puffy. Sehlyung is urgently texting you (quadruple texting!) to hurry your ass up and get to the green room so you can all leave together. 

A hand on your shoulder stops you from replying, and you wave them off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving already, sorry.” 

“Rude, I just got here.” 

Jungkook is glowing. He hoists his whole body to plop himself in the seat next to you, so heavy you fear he may break the plastic in two. His arms splay across the other seats, urging you to lean in closer. 

“Jungkook,” you smile, resting your hand on his thigh. “The show was great, I really felt the energy from all the way back here.” 

“I can see that,” he tugs at his long sleeves, reaching to brush a stray tear, “you okay?” 

“What, yeah.” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

“So you weren’t moved by my impeccable talent?” 

“Obviously,”

“Because, there’s nothing to be ashamed of if you were crying,” he goes on playfully, using his hands to narrate his spiel as he talks out to the stage, “I mean I get it, knowing how much I slaved over that solo and finally getting to perform it, and how I got sick the night before is a pretty–oh shit.” 

You’re blubbering again, feverish now that everyone’s gone and it’s only you two in the stadium. The lights have already started to go out, the only light illuminating are the red exit signs and the last pair of doors leading to the main lobby. Your cries are echoing across the large room, and you feel nothing short of embarrassed but you can’t stop crying.

“Awh, my little crybaby,” he cooes, dripping with affection as he moves the armrest to pull you onto his lap. You dive your face in his neck, wracking with sobs. 

“I’m, I’m just so proud of you,” you seep out, nuzzling your nose between his freshly cleaned face, “and you—you make it so damn hard for me to not love you it’s just, it’s not fair!” 

“You don’t make it any easier on me either,” he whispers, soft enough to crumble under his grasp and melt under his skin. 

The confessions are so soft, so easy to say. Little did the both of you know how much it would strain for you to place this love on the backburner. 

[may-shepard]

Supernatural and Me, Painting With What I Hope Will Be Gradually Increasing Skill 1x02: Wendigo

I feel like I didn’t apologise sufficiently in my previous post to anyone associated with petrykivka as an art form. I am but a humble aspirer to painting cute flowers on my cupboards, and may creep back off into the cowardly stencil option if this proves fruitless, har har, that’s a joke because a lot of petrykivka features fruit:

via Unknown Ukraine

2m: Hey there’s Cory Monteith! I didn’t know he was in this episode!

Oh.

Also I have to admit, at this time of posting this I’ve watched ahead to Dead in the Water (1x03) and I know that there is a Bathtub Incident in that episode, and here we have Dude Peeing and Things Not Going Well, I seriously think there’s a theme here.

It’s either Basic Bodily Functions and Self-Care Are Potentially Deadly or Don’t Read Joseph Campbell in the Woods:

Because

I know myself well enough to know that I’m going to end up finding Sam and Dean’s relationship endearing, so I’m giving myself full permission to be all in because Dean asks Sam if he wants to drive the car which means he’s really worried about him. Believe me when I say I’m fully prepared to believe that these are the facial expressions of two dudes who really care about each other:

After last time, I decided to ditch the chalk paint and go direct to the acrylics, because yikes. Tonight’s palette is purple, blue, and pink, with a skootch of yellow, which hahaha I am howling because when I chose them I did not take in the fact that these are the colours of bi pride (plus yellow, idk man, sunshine?). I’m so bi it just leaches out through my aesthetics 24/7, hey, that’s what Dean said amirite?

I’m practicing putting together the techniques I was practicing last time into some kind of vague flower shape which is maybe supposed to look like this, ish (also LOL even this tutorial is bi af, what the hell):

15m Ayyyyy Callum Keith Rennie is in this episode! Nvm Battlestar Galactica have you seen Hard Core Logo?

There are some good thoughts about Callum Keith Rennie here. 

28m okay but I love it as a horror trope when the Thing that’s Out There emulates the voice of a human who’s scared or in pain or is screaming for help, so this is awesome. (If you’re into that trope too, there’s a very good version of it in Annihilation, one of the best horror movies of the past decade, which pairs beautifully with Midsommar for being pastel-coloured but still dreadful in all the best ways.) 

This flower is turning out better than any of my others so far:

How do we feel about native monsters being used in mainstream, non-Native-made horror? It gives me a yikes-y feeling, especially when the interpretation of the monster is essentially a nosferatu crossed with a grizzly bear, but wendigo’s interesting if you dig a bit. The most terrifying read on it I’m aware of is Columbus and Other Cannibals: The Wetiko Disease of Exploitation, Imperialism, and Terrorism by Jack D. Forbes, who wrote:

CANNIBALS is focused upon my use of the Native American concept of the “Wetiko” psychosis, the disease of cannibalism. I believe that the exploitative consumption of the earth, the living creatures of the earth, and, above all, other human beings and their homelands, constitute actual, real, unmitigated cannibalism. Tragically, the cannibalism of which I write has become more and more an acceptable part of modern economic and personal exploitation, with those who do the consuming giving little or no thought to the diminishing or even elimination of the lives of those at the receiving end of their quest for profit and super-sustenance.

More here if you’re interested. 

33m Dean as damsel in distress, I like it! Does this happen a lot?

34m:

Extremely toxic material much like life under imperialist capitalism, yeah? “Do Not Enter” I mean, if only we could exit!

37m “Check it out: flareguns.” 

“Those will work.”

Use the flaregun of your passion for justice and / or literal flareguns, either will do against the cannibalistic impulse that drives capitalism, I guess.

All of a sudden I’m liking this episode. Also make your own joke here about failing to hydrate or w/e.

Potential deep veins for later on: the idea that Sam and Dean’s family is totally screwed, but they can help these orphans have a happy ending, so sweet? I like it as a motivation. Also do all the guest star women kiss Dean on the lips at the end of each episode? Hm.

I didn’t go much further with this flower, since I felt as though some of the detail work was beyond me and the potential to fuck it up was high, but I did use the last of my rapidly drying paint to do a pic of the monster from this episode. I didn’t want to blow him up all over and I wasn’t sure the colours I had to work with would make a good splosion, so I gave him a weird flower instead that magically made him super happy. (Picture him exploding with joy in a moment, if you’d still like him blown up, or idk gleefully embracing a better standard of behaviour than compulsive people-eating.)

For good or for ill this post is part of a series:

1x01

[technooccult]

Womxn Mho Make Spiritual Machines--Jess Rowland

For my dissertation, I’m interviewing womxn in the performance art and music worlds who make spiritual machines, whatever that means to them.

1)Tell me how your performances tie into causes and ideas that are important to you personally? What are those ideas and causes?

I started out in a San Francisco scene that was anti-capitalist and anti-consumer. This experience deepened a line of thought I was already committed to - and I probably, on some subconscious level, was drawn to the community I found in the Bay Area. This was in the 90s, fyi, and since then a lot has changed. Some of the folks are still there, but most have moved on. A lot of my performance work is tied to an exploration of consumerism - I never really got into the more overtly political anti-capitalist thing. I grew up in a suburban world where consumerism was everything. It felt like to me a substitute for substance and a substitute for love. The idea that Ronald McDonald would stand in for your father, and that the bliss-point of snack food would make up for real meaning in one's life. I told people that corporations hated humanity. Most people disagree, but I still think it is largely true if you look at what consumerism has done to the planet. It's a lot of what Kurt Vonegut was talking about - How do you explain what people do to the planet and each other? The only answer he could make sense of was that people actually hated being alive and wanted it to stop. I saw my thinking as a continuation of that line of thinking. He was mostly talking about nuclear weapons, but I saw it more as the effect of consumerism and corporate American-style capitalism.

So, when I perform the eating of a bag of snack food, I'm acting out that process of how we take in consumerism as a substitute for nourishment and love, and that includes self-love. when I do the googlespreadsheet sonification, I'm talking about work, as in 9-to-5, and its emptiness. Sofy, you probably don't know this work, but I used to do a lot of video/music improv like "McDonaldland is Changing" and "John Ashcroft vs. the Space Librarians" and "The Barbie Explosion". This was my thinking mostly as I started out in performance, and I still explore that theme, though it has changed over time.

"McDonaldland is Changing" and "John Ashcroft vs. the Space Librarians" and

What has changed in the idea of the work is then - how does consumerism and work and consumer technology affect our body. Especially the body that wants to be expressed, for me that is Woman-ness and Woman power. When i think about how these forces of capital and consumption act on myself, I see the way the systems that are in place act against: transness, queerness, and the female body. Much of my adult life has been committed to expressing the feminine in myself. This is fundamentally a feminist, or trans-feminist perspective on consumerism. And, since consumerism acts - in our society - on the deepest levels of our being - how negative perceptions of the self work for capital and how love, if it is possible, can counter that. I hope when I perform ,there is a little bit of that love that can reach the audience, even in the darkest, most excorcism kinds of performance. Maybe there is a purging, the way to remove things from the deep insides.

These days, consumerism largely acts through technologies, cell phones, computers, etc. When I perform the laptop destruction or cellphone thing, it's an attempt at purging as a feminist action.

2)What are your thoughts on queer and feminist visibility? How do you express it in your work?

i think I might have just answered part of this question. Visibility = good! When i perform it is important that I am seen, that is part of the process of a ritual of purging. But more generally, I feel that trans visibility and trans-feminine energy needs to be out and about.

3)Can you describe your spirituality (or thoughts you have on spirituality) and how you express it/perform it in your work?

This is a big one Sofy! Growing up, i considered myself a Taoist, and largely I still do - at least as a spiritual practice. As a kid, i had an experience with music that was a sort of spiritual awakening, and when I started reading about Taoism, I realized it coincided with the kind of experience I had. I sometimes think of this as a sort of "musical taoism". The basic idea, if it is possible to express, is that the universe is energy which flows through everything and is, in fact, everything. Creativity allows us to tap into this energy, the way a radio can tune into a radio station. The truer you are to the moment you are in, the less the ego demands to assert itself, the less you fight against the natural power of that energy, the more that energy can work in a positive way in your life, but most import for us artists - the more you are in touch with the source of creation. and for me, this expresses itself mostly in music. This is where my commitment to improvised music started. In San Francisco, I had a band called Spork, which was committed to this idea. It was (at least at first) a 100% improvised ensemble. We never played the same music twice, because no two moments are the same. when we were in touch with the power of that energy, we felt it and it shows in the music. I'm still committed to improvisation, and it acts in my performance as a force which can counter consumerism, conformity, and surface-awareness. The energy of the universe I consider primarily a feminine force, and - as you know so well - we have our group dedicated to the Electromagnetic Goddess.

"The Barbie Explosion"https://www.discogs.com/Jess-Rowland-Scenes-From-The-Silent-Revolution/release/3879362

overall speaker stuffhttp://www.jessrowland.com/art/

music for earringshttp://www.jessrowland.com/music-for-earrings/ laptop destructohttps://vimeo.com/154124264

piano rollhttps://vimeo.com/249305849

Electromagnetism and the spirituality of electromagnetism is huge in my practice. In addition to the Bunker, my art practice focuses a lot on homemade paper speakers and other unexpected sound-making objects using embedded circuitry, all relying on electromagnetism. These are technological objects. But they stand against consumer technology. It is a feminist statement against the system of technology which corporations try to force us into. this work is also essential an expression of my particular journey as a trans person: it explores voice as hidden impulse, a speaker where no speaker is allowed, sound made manifest. Quite often my works require interactivity to activate sound, the active search for the truth of bodies that are otherwise hidden, bodies inhabited by sound. A good example of how this feminist critic of music technology plays out, is my audio jewelry and music for body space. a vast majority of music technology has a masculinist-aesthetic, a robocop or terminator kind of feel to it. With the audio jewelry I wanted to challenge that aesthetic explicitly. I created some music for the audio jewelry, a four channel spatialized piece (2 earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet). In making the music, I played off the idea of an "etheric body", the aura that supposedly surrounds the body. The music is meant to generate a sound-field to protect the feminine body, or as I sometimes call it "sound perfume".

My circuit prints are often stand-ins for the body, and the electromagnetism contained therein is a stand-in (or might literally be!) spirit. The foil surfaces are meant to act like the metallic gold leafs and precious stone inks of Illuminated Manuscripts, as a connection point to deeper truths.

I'm currently reading "The Mysticism of Sound and Music" by Hazrat Inayat Khan,a Sufi musician and mystic, which expresses these ideas - and more! - about sound as the source of all power and the center of the body in ways better than I could. It is interesting to see so many of the thoughts I've had about sound as a spiritual power from a taoist perspective, be matched from the perspective of Sufism, a different (though slightly connected) spiritual tradition than Taoism.

"The Mysticism of Sound and Music" by Hazrat Inayat Khan https://www.shambhala.com/the-mysticism-of-sound-and-music-1071.html

Snaxxx https://vimeo.com/319382872

4)Tell me about your electronic techniques, hardware or software configurations or objects you have made to create your unique sound. Basically I am curious about the tools of your trade as, on the technical side this is a very NIME-like round up of performers. You can speak about a particular piece or your practice at large.

These days, I use Max a lot. Though I use it in a specific way - as a controller of sound, but not as a content-creating device. Snaxxx, for example, uses Max as a signal threshold detector for a contact mic on the snack bag. The detector then triggers pre-recorded sounds to play. The sounds themselves were recorded from a performance of feedback elements. Outside of Max, almost all my tools are analog, the input sound is analog and the output is often played through analog materials. In this way, I think of my technology practice quite often as "postdigital". The paper speakers are probably the best representation of my kind of postdigital aesthetic. I use foils and magnets to create embedded circuitry, and some of these objects are intended for performance, at least of a sort. I have performed on the piano roll before, which uses circuit-completion with a foil backing on the piano roll, connected to a computer running Max. Again, using signal threshold, the circuit completion triggers pre-recorded sounds. I still rely on old-fashioned pedals, which often I find more effective and useful than staring at a Max patch for hours on end. Laptop Destruction uses contact mics hidden in the laptop to be sent through loop pedal, delay, reverb, and ring modulator. The cell phone piece uses induction - like our Bunker performance - and also contact mics on the cellphone. So: lots of contact mics, induction mics, analog signal generation and completion, often connected to Max.

5)Please provide me with a short bio

Jess Rowland is a sound artist, musician, and composer, and a 2018-20 Princeton Arts Fellow. Much of her work explores the relationship between technologies and popular culture, continually aiming to reconcile the world of art and the world of science. At UC Berkeley, she developed techniques for embedded sound and flexible speaker arrays. Her research includes music perception, auditory neurosciences, and music technologies. In addition to an active art practice, she has taught Sound Art at The School of Visual Arts in New York and continues to present her work internationally. Recent installations and performances include the New York Electronic Arts Festival, Simons Center for Geometry and Physics, Berkeley Art Museum, and Spectrum NYC.

[deviationdivine]

The Stoic Prince (RK900!Prompt Request)

TLDR: To you he’s a smug pain in the ass but you still fantasize about getting dirty with him at the DPD.

Word Count: 1,912

TW: Language, Suggestive Themes, Smut Fantasy

A/N: Follower/Reader Appreciation Drabble | Prompt: “Why the hell am I attracted to snarky stuck up dick faces?” - anon request! Thanks for participating nonnie! This went somewhere else. 1 in the queue done! Onto the next!

"Why do you even bother talking to it?"

Bitter taste of coffee barely touches tongue. Peering up at the question leaves a tiny smirk across lips, which did a hesitant skim of cup rim. Can the DPD honestly get a better brand to chug out of this dispenser?

“Excuse me?”

Purposely hedging away from your co-worker’s sudden interrogation hardly hides the clear tinge of artifice lacing words. Speaking any further may give away this ploy. Of course you know who they mean. He is the only smug jackass that does a heck of a job digging under skin.

Tall, imposing steel scoping a sea of puny humans to gnaw on, using his steadfast jaw, cut from stone if he were made of clay to be fitted by the gods themselves. Plastic, metal – raw material configured, manipulated into eye catching aesthetics.

Fabricated beauty and despite a brusque imperious affectation streaming out of those cool, pert lips. Often times you fantasize how human, warm they might taste. Not just against your mouth but gliding in a hungry appreciation upon every inch of skin made readily available.

To say you had the hots for Nines is an understatement. To say it can go anywhere is another quandary in your grand scheme of things. Natural enigmas be damned he is a walking puzzle waiting to be stripped of his authoritarian programming and cynical attitude.

Unfortunately those gods decided pompous and hypocrisy should be star qualities. Incessantly rolling eyes at your luck, leaning casually into table, coffee machine obscured by your current position, sank an invigorating quiet into your weary body for a brief moment.

Breaks are never long enough. At least there isn’t a sign of top human asshole of the Detroit Police. Rather not have to put a foot up his ass again. However, let’s get back to the inquiry at hand since it hasn’t left the break room.

“Daydreaming about it? Wow, Y/N.”

Sounds like some others you’ve known in the city. Detroit is just a heaping pile of garbage on a good day. Android fever is still in full swing and not how society originally saw it unfolding.  "Don't call him that." You defend him while not in his presence. Better to keep it that way because no way in hell are you admitting how fast you’d drop clothes and get down with the rigid android on the force.  "Just because he's an android, I mean." The female officer rolls eyes at you. "Uh huh. Sure. Next time you’ll tell me Reed’s going out for drinks with Anderson and Connor.”

Considering androids do not drink she’s a long way off course. You snort.

“Better luck with puppy eyed boy,” the officer jabs, smug. “He doesn’t look like he wants to eat people alive. Or maybe that RK900 just wants to eat you out.”

Nearly spitting coffee all over moves you in a quick step forward, grabbing a napkin out of dispenser to brush splotches of brown liquid off shirt. Eat you out?! Yeah, absolutely!

Perfervid antagonism blinds your gaze resting in a target over fellow officer all consuming in personal embarrassment. Truth is not far from luscious fantasies swirling in nightly subconscious. More than a few dreams about tangling body, flesh and humanity with synthetic, plastic and robotics transforms sleep. It is a burning secret. 

A mystery garden planted between the cages absconding the heart ruminating for something of construct, designed in perfection but never mind false images. Never mind unnatural heavenly auras built around a shell of mechanized man. He is everything you can dream about but never will quite openly acknowledge.

One more step and – "Your heart rate is dangerously high for caffeine consumption."

The calculating voice of the RK900 hovers close, sinking in smooth and curt. A statement more so than concern but appropriately edged with his swift, sharp stride into break room.

Fusing a firm hand atop your shoulder seemingly resonates effectively. Analysis is punctual upon your figure as are the sweeping steel he possesses to invoke fear in opponents. He stares down suspects and useless colleagues alike. However there is a bit more skill in you out of most among these humans. He keeps silent, studying a wide appreciation in your eyes.

Pupil dilation is telling to an android who measures subtlety, language in the human form, moving under its own command. Rarely does he witness a shining example of what is referred to as a poker face in most offenders. Upon you it is quite - delicious.

The spike in vitals draws him. Nostrils flare in your personal radius sampling as a bloodhound on a ferocious hunt. Fluctuations respond exquisitely as you are equally confounding in his state of processing.

Do you honestly believe you will affect him in such a wasteful way without retaliation? The form in which he shadows your trembling inhibitions is opposite of what is desired in potential partners. This android does not care in the slightest for decorum. 

He will pull you into his awaiting grasp, splaying atop his smooth marbled chest, wanton in prurience, undone from the molecules that form soft, fragile flesh. Tasting your essence will act as more than data on a long, skillful tongue. It will bury into the nerves breaking down your barriers in a flood of rapture. 

All it takes is a deliberate push. Buttons unfastening with each poke he prods, bleeding into your skin and he does so intentionally to gain reaction. Steeping within your system liquefies him to the plasma running through veins. 

Just as thirium runs a gamut of power to biocomponents he readily will be the life force keeping your mortal existence afloat. So it will be because he wills it out of a viral need you have unwittingly but most adoringly spread into his frame. 

His lips twitch faint. A tiniest curve unseen by naked eye but he settles them to a hard line. 

Your entire body shivers giving away how good he’s gotten you. Damn it. And he’s looking awfully smug about it all. Somehow he manages to keep his stoic façade nestling in his wide, masculine exterior; handsome is a mere flash in the pan for Nines. 

He is beyond definition. You think he knows it too. Why else does he single you out? Making you literally sweat, taking great pleasure in how you behave and pretending nothing is happening.

What a complete and total jackass! Sometimes you swear he fakes this hard ass persona to look the part. Actually, no he’s built this way. Deviancy does nothing for him!

Collecting yourself is instinct and self preservation kicking in. Nobody in their life will get away with this but he melts your strong core down to a puddle. Limpid steel expunges self control. In front of him you strive to be alert so it's not obvious but there was more warmth underneath his imposing touch than you can stand. 

God, he's too good. Flicking eyes down the length of his body drives a surge in your heart, thundering in desperation to current fantasy riding out awake.

Strewn atop table, legs around his waist; ripping open that damn white jacket, digging fingers against defined pecs visibly bursting at the seams through black material, fluffy camouflage to a toned body. Taking you right then and there, moaning his name, sinking fingers into exposed synthetic skin because you want to lay into him as heavily as he lays into you.

Biting of perfectly white teeth, licking languid, sensual from smooth tongue and pounding your body on hard surface, pain thumping against the plane of your back but you beg him for more. 

Ravenous, unfiltered and insatiably poetic while he completely ravages whatever is left of you, nearly collapsing the chosen surface of your hungry carnality. Eye witnesses neither ceasing nor distracting from the obvious orgasm you will ride on high in the clouds of your mind.

Breath catches in a mystifying glaze sparkling up to his hard narrowed brow. A daylight delusion swept hold at the least private location for you to be horny.  For a minute you fear he knows what went on in your head. A predatory slit of Nines’ eyes tracks each minute expression, fidget you relay. He resembles an albino king cobra, flaring a shroud to engulf you in his beguiling shadow.

 Hammering against ribs betrays you to the point of imagining the entire precinct eavesdropping on the laborious thud. A small inhalation expands his chest one he hardly requires for oxygen but absorbs your arousal. Oh, it’s very obvious. You have a bit of a problem between your legs right now. Fuck.

"Peak performance suggests you not consume more than the recommended dose of caffeine, Detective.”

The android’s voice is deeper, darker than usual. Almost testing, watchful of how your body will respond next. Enough so that a smirk graces the mouth you wish to ascend in prayer to the immediate issue you physically suffer. He will cure such issue predominantly efficient. “Coffee will not help your productivity if you misuse it." Misuse it, huh? Oh, you’re sure nothing will be of misuse here. Preferably his tongue; you screw up your face to hide the lust.  

Why the fuck is he looking like that? Does he realize people will start noticing? Honestly, it’s first time you realize it’s just the two of you in the break room. Guess he scared off your former gossip partner.  "Why do you care what I do anyway?” Seething at his game and the fact you’re turned on at work, you slam a finger into his chest. Stabbing him doesn’t move his perfect posture but it sure does make you ache more.  “It's not as if it's worth your time."

Nines’ head cocks to the side marginally amused by this insolence. He finds it cripplingly fascinating on a good day but why voice such trivialities?

“Perhaps if you behave in a professional capacity, Detective Y/L/N?” Leaning in to brush the words beside ear, purposely expelling artificial breath to lick your skin, the android fuses fingers against your hip.

A slow slide kisses beneath the android’s tempting fingertips allowing the hitch of your natural breath fuel his personal stimulus. Aroused by you will not go without discipline. There is only one kind he imagines to have utmost potency and satisfaction.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Nines switches to informalities, dangerously silken. “Do you wish every advanced piece of technology that wanders into the DPD to fuck you? Or is it because I am faster, stronger and more resilient to your needs?”

Gasping is the last vocalization you will give him. Pushing back from you reserves dignity even if you want him to just snag you hard by the hips and throw you down into the evidence room. Quieter, less traffic right now and it’d be a pretty good way to… He just called himself the best and believes it.

Well, it’s true right? No. Fuck his snide self!

You are trying but still…

“Why the hell am I attracted to snarky, stuck up dick faces?!”

Story of your goddamn life apparently and this one is the snarkiest, smuggest, sexy piece of android you’ve had the discomfort and pleasure to meet.

“Get over yourself, Nines!”

Yelling on the way out of the break room only causes looks and you’re sure without turning around he’s still standing there. Tall as hell and making you weak, oh so weak to his stormy sea and he’s already swallowed you up.

Wait until he devours you.  

Tag List: @elydith  @your-taxidermy

[kellanved-ammanas]

Space Mercs AU: Halloween Party Part Two: Party

Spy went back and forth on whether or not he was going to attend the team Halloween party. It would be silly to celebrate a holiday typically only celebrated by humans especially on a planet humans weren’t native to. But… it was one of Ellen’s favourite holidays, she’d always insisted that he celebrate it with her. That had been a long time ago though, he… sort of missed it. Which meant it’d be dumb to go; he missed it because he still missed her. So it was decided, he was not going to go.

Despite that seemingly final decision, he found himself hiding invisible in the corner of the common room as Scout prepared it for the Halloween party that evening. That didn’t mean he was going to the party though. He was just curious to see what was being done for it.

Scout had enlisted the help of Demo, Engie and Pyro, in the making and hanging of the decorations. Mostly black and orange ribbons, probably cloth bought from the store in town and cut up. But he’d also used his artistic skills to make a big ‘HAPPY HALLOWEEN!’ banner, decorated with little spiders, ghosts, bats, and a couple skeletons peeking out from the corners.

Somebody – it certainly wasn’t Scout – had figured out how to make bat shaped cupcakes and ghost shaped cookies, they were all a little lopsided. Some more than others, but only a few of them were unrecognizable. There were chips and dip too. Whatever the dip was, was dyed bright red, possibly trying to resemble something gory in the theme of Halloween (?) but failing miserably – not every food experiment could be a winner. But of course, there was alcohol, tons and tons of alcohol, enough to take up half the table. Spiked punch and just straight bottles of liquor next to the two-liter bottles of soda. There was even a few bottles on liquor from the town, obviously brought in by Demo, Scout had refused to even touch the stuff since it had killed him.

A lot of work had gone into all of it and it was quite impressive. And the whole thing was orchestrated by Scout, he was even clearly in charge of where everything went. He’d inherited his mother’s love of Halloween all right. Not surprising, she had a way of pulling people into things she was passionate about and making them love it too.

Holding back a groan, Spy slunk out of the room, hugging the wall lest he bump into anyone by accident. He was going to have to attend the party now, wasn’t he? Out of obligation because he was – did he dare even think to himself? – proud of the work his son – thinking about Scout, using that phrase was probably risky, if he did it too often, he might accidentally say something out loud that gave away his secret – had put into it. But also, because he did enjoy Halloween, he wanted to celebrate it again. And so, he would even if it did go against his better judgment.

 -

“You showed up!” Scout said as soon as Spy stepped into the room.

Spy had actually shown up first but had remained invisible hidden in the corner while everyone else arrived. He’d then waited a few more minutes after Sniper – the true last person to arrive – came in to sneak out and reenter visible. “I was bored and had nothing better to do so I figured I might as well show up see what was going on in here.”

Scout’s exuberance was unaffected by Spy’s feigned apathy. “That means everyone’s here, yes! Even Miss Pauling showed up.”

“Well, the Administrator’s not here so technically, not everyone’s here.”

“Well, she doesn’t count. For all we know she might not even be a real person because she’s just a voice over the speakers from our point of view. So, yes, everyone is here and it’s amazing. I’m not letting your garbage attitude ruin the party. We’re going to eat and drink and watch scary movies until our socks fall off. I don’t even really know what that’s supposed to mean but we’re going to do it anyway.”

“Okay, all right.” Spy hadn’t come here planning to be contradictory, it had just kind of happened out of habit.

“Good. I’m glad you showed up. Demo said you wouldn’t but then Medic made a bet with him that you would. So if Demo’s mad at you, that’s probably why. But now that everyone’s finally here… it’s scary movie time!” The last part was addressed loudly to the entire room.

The TV they were presumably going to watch these scary movies on was now set up in the middle of the room with two midsized couches and some beanbag chairs, setup in front of it, exactly enough room for ten people. Engie, Pyro and Sniper were already hanging out one of the couches while everyone else hung out at that food table right behind them.

Surprisingly, they all gathered around the TV – bringing plates of food with them of course – with no further prompting from Scout or anyone else. Even Demo left the ready supply of alcohol behind, bringing only a single bottle of it over with him to sit in one of the beanbags next to Soldier. Spy quickly grabbed a drink and snagged a spot on the outside end of a couch before anyone else could, ending up next to Engie.

“I didn’t think you’d show up,” he whispered while Scout chose what movie they were going to watch first.

Spy shrugged. “I had nothing better to do.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

Spy almost asked ‘why?’ because it made some sort of sense that Scout wanted him here – he was the one organizing the party so naturally he wanted everyone here just for the sake of it – but why would Engie be glad Spy showed up? It didn’t really matter though and wasn’t something Spy wanted to get into right now. So, he didn’t respond.

As the opening credits of the first movie began to roll, Scout ran to dim the lights. He then ran back to reclaim the center beanbag chair as if it were possible he might miss something important by being away for five seconds instead of two.

 -

The first movie was one Spy had seen before a few times, back when it had been Scout’s mother who insisted he watch scary movies with her. He wasn’t sure if that made him more inclined like it or dislike it. Either way though, it was more interesting than the second movie which was so stereotypical it wasn’t scary at all. In Spy’s opinion anyway, the others didn’t seem to mind. Though all of them, except for Pyro, were drinking more than him so that might have something to do with it.

The third movie and fourth movie were pretty decent, nothing too grand but satisfyingly spooky. But three quarters of the way through the latter, Demo finally passed out. Soldier had either been matching him drink for drink and also passed out from alcohol consumption or had fallen asleep because of how late it was. They leaned into each other snoring softly which is what had drawn Spy’s attention to them.

After the movie ended, Miss Pauling had to leave, the fact that she’d been able to stay as long as she had was surprising, it was past midnight after all. At some point Heavy and Sniper had fallen asleep too. Pyro looked to be sleeping as well but it was hard to tell for sure, he might just be very relaxed, leaning into Medic’s shoulder, who surprisingly didn’t seem to mind.

But despite all that and the tiredness mixed with the obvious effect the alcohol was having on him, making him groggy and unsteady, Scout insisted they keep going. Medic was of course all for it, he was loving the gore and routinely stayed up until stupid o’clock in the morning anyway. Engie didn’t look tired either for the same reason as Medic, staying up all night was a frequent thing for him, he was used to it. Spy was starting to feel sleepy but he wasn’t going let them know that, he could stay up all night if he had to. So another movie it was.

“I think Scout might’ve finally fallen asleep,” Engie whispered a bit more than an hour and a half later as the credits rolled across the screen.

“Really?” Medic said as he stretched out a leg to prod Scout with the toe of his slipper. Scout didn’t respond even when Medic poked him a bit harder. “Weak.”

“I guess that means the party’s over,” Spy said as he stood up. Finally he could go bed.

“Yep, looks like.” Engie stood too. He bent down to gently take the remote out of Scout’s hand to turn off the TV before going over to the light switch to turn the lights all the way back up. “Now uh… you two, before you go off to bed, help me get everyone we can up so we can send them off to their rooms, this ain’t no place anyone should be sleeping in. We’ll clean this mess up tomorrow sometime.” He gestured towards the table, now a mess of mostly crumbs and a few left-over cupcakes and cookies. At most maybe one quarter of the various alcoholic drinks were left over, Pyro was the only one who hadn’t drunk anything, which was a contribution to why most of the team now was now fast asleep.

Spy didn’t want to stick around to help wake everyone up but… he did anyway. But only because Engie had asked Medic to help too and Medic seemed to be staying.

Everyone but Demo and Scout woke up to a small amount of prodding, shaking, or poking. Not surprising, Demo was drunk off his ass and Scout had literally slept through a fire alarm once.

“We shall have to slap them to wake them up,” Soldier said. Before he could make a move to do so, Heavy put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.

“No slapping, we can carry them to bed,” he said.

“I’ll drag Scout to bed,” Spy volunteered with a sigh. “His room’s right next to mine anyway.”

“Oh, interesting,” Medic said with an evil smirk, rubbing his hands together.

Spy ignored him; a reaction was what Medic wanted. Instead, eager to be done with this business and in bed, he bent down to pull Scout up and hoist him up on his shoulder like a sack of grain. Scout didn’t even stir. “Now I must bid you all a good night.” He bowed slightly to everyone in the room before heading out. Normally he would’ve gone invisible too because it had a better affect, but whilst carrying another person it would’ve just look silly.

Unfortunately, their sleeping quarters being on the ship to make things more convenient when they moved meant the journey to their rooms was quite lengthy, even while going at a fast walk to leave everyone else behind. Luckily Scout wasn’t too heavy so the burden wasn’t as bad as it could be.

He reached Scout’s room and picked the lock to gain entry. He placed Scout on his bed and… against his better judgement, tucked him in. In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have volunteered to do this but it was too late now. But it was most likely the first and only time he’d ever put his son to bed.

“Good night,” he whispered, almost just mouthing the words, before retreating out and to his own room.

Previous

[goobiegoobert]

Gooooddd morning King! I woke up more tired than when I went to sleepe e.e Literally 10hrs of straight sleep for nothing.

BUT, I came with questions. Who are your top two SB animatronics? You may have hinted before, sorry //

Also, if you feel comfortable sharing, whats your guilty pleasure trope? When you read or write smut, what's a situation or trope you love every time even if its not exactly popular or safe for general consumption? 👀

Honestly, I just wanna know about what content you like to consume because you're so fascinating. I write on and off on my free time, (less so lately) and I have a stockpile of fics I can't explain the tags for.

-🍑

Sorry for the late response! I hope you had better sleep today than yesterday peachie!!

Oh, out of the animatronics my two favorites are DJ Music Man and Map bot! First one is for many reasons since i have been so fixated on the dj I've been drawing my insert and my rendition of him so much and have so many hcs its not even funny, Map bot is simply out of the fact they're really cute and helpful like???

I feel they should've been used more, maybe as a way to help load in areas? Dunno but I live em to bits!

My guilty pleasures are between me and my 15 unposted drafts. But I do have to say it's not for general media consumption due to darker themes, unless my followers wanted to see them then sure ill totally post them but for now since I have no clue what my audience likes I think I'll stick with a bit more tame stuff!

But if I truly have to say my favorite trope to write for in a sense is obsessive mean losers x oblivious people pleasers! Leads into dark territory but I'll leave it up to your imagination! Oh that and sex pollen. God that shit I will always eat up 💔

With that I have to say peachie I'm really interested in what you like to write for actually!! I bet it's amazing, and I'm glad that I interest you it's super flattering :)

[marylandlifecoaching]

Lighten The Load

Depressed, saddened, angered and confused. Theses are some of the reasons why people come to see me. But the truth is, you don't always need to see a coach or counselor. Sometimes you can make adjustments to lighten your load. You can do things starting today, that will free up your mind, thus allowing you to feel lighter, brighter and happier. Let's jump into this.

There are certain things that I have noticed over the course of 3 decades being in practice, that literally hold people back from experiencing happiness. These actions, beliefs and thought patterns keep us from just enduring life, to actually enjoying it. We move from fear to freedom. And while not everyone who does these things will have a major life change. Most will see improvements. And if you ask someone who has been in heavy pain for years, a little relief goes along way. So why not make the adjustments? The worst thing that will happen to you is you get zero results. On the other hand though, you just may lighten the load.

So here are my top steps.

1. Don't entertain the pain. Whenever possible, stop thinking about the pain. Even better. Stop talking about it. The more you affirm it, the stronger it becomes. Yes, sometimes life is unfair. You got sick, your significant other left you, or maybe you lost your job. Life isn't always fair. But just because it is not, doesn't mean you should relive it on a day to day basis. Working with countless clients {for example} who have had a bad break up, and they're still talking about 5 years later. No wonder they are unfulfilled. It's time to let go of the old, to make room for the new.

2. Live within your means. Many of us had to learn this the hard way. {Yeah, I am holding my hand up too.} Life can be challenging enough as it is, let alone being anchored to a mountain of debt. You know the Joneses that you are trying to keep up with? Stop that! This is unhealthy and in many cases, they too are trying to keep up with someone else. And this leads me to.....

3. Social media ain't always social. Sure it's fun and can be informative. But it can also be misleading and downright cruel. Just how many people are bullied, or take their own life because they are comparing themselves to others? I'm sure we all know that one person who lives a completely different life, then what they present on FaceBook. Run your own race, and be unapologetic about it.

4. Check out assumptions. More relationships have ended because we thought we knew something that we really didn't. If you are having concerns, learn to ask. It's not fair to you, your partner or the relationship if you are acting out of fear, and especially if you don't have the facts.

"Comfort zones quietly kill your dreams."

5. Speaking of fear. You do know that it's a liar? Most of the things {not all} we fear are based off of something that has never happened, or a belief system we developed in our head, or during younger years. There is an old proverb that say's "he who angers you, controls you". I like to apply that to fear. A great example would be social anxiety. And while that should be treated by a professional, the example here is how those who suffer, rearrange their life to avoid groups of people. How many thing do we miss out on because of fear? Run to your fear. Comfort zones quietly kill your dreams.

6. Your body is truly your temple. Make time to worship. You need not live, eat and breathe health. But you do need to be mindful. Over consumption is a huge problem that leads to huge problems. We all have our vices be it alcohol, smoking, chocolate to sex. Whatever your vice is, keep it in check. Because once your health is gone, you'll be working from a deficit. And while deficits can be overcome, that's a completely different mind-set. And since we're talking about lightening the load. Don't willing put yourself in a hole to climb out of.

The reality is that there are many things that we can do to lighten the load. I could literally write an entire book on this very subject. I mention the above 6 because they seem to be a reoccurring theme with my clients. Whatever you decide to do, just do it. There's a reason why my practice increases by almost a factor of 10 in January. {Because people desire change.} But come June? Tumbleweeds.

Love yourself enough to see it though. Lighten the load. Because we're not meant to be carrying mountains.

[pets-beaty]

via How Webs

Easter 2020 Sunday - See Exact Day - Have a Happy Easter

easter 2020: Tell us that What are your favorite Easter ever memories from your childhood? Hunting for Easter eggs? Crumbling squeaky noises on marshmallow? Bite the ears of your Easter bunnies?

easter 2020

Or perhaps the most magical part was the preparation: painting those eggs and anticipating the sweets you would get. The Easter basket, with green grass and chocolate bunnies ... maybe a stuffed chick or even a real duckling!

Easter 2020 CountdownCountdown

(function(d, s, id) { var js, pjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//www.tickcounter.com/static/js/loader.js"; pjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, pjs); }(document, "script", "tickcounter-sdk")); I'm sure you want to recreate some of those precious memories for your family and especially your children. So here are a few tips to help you make that happen.

For many families, Easter is all about their faith, but that doesn't stop anyone from enjoying Easter egg hunt and Easter candy as a secular celebration. Easter is a day of joy, and the colorful eggs and accessories of traditional Easter serve to enhance that sense of joy in the essence of spring and rebirth.

For children, or of course, part of Easter's appeal lies in the fact that the weather is a holiday where they expect to get lots of chocolates, candies and other treats. And for the purposes of this report, we will focus on the fun aspects of Easter, along with the joy of it. You can have a happy Easter, celebrate spring and its beauty and freedom without fully focusing on sugary things.

Easter 2020 is a family Celebration

Families vary in how they want to celebrate Easter. So you can choose how you want to celebrate. But despite the individual differences, there are also many themes in common. Here are some of the standard ingredients:

a) Treats

Easter is (for many people) about treats ... and the most important among the treats are Easter eggs. It is not Easter unless many eggs have been put in the basket, along with a variety of other sweets. And about those eggs ... there are so many different kinds, from chocolate eggs with and without stuffing, candy eggs, marshmallow eggs and yes, even hard-boiled eggs that are brightly decorated to add to the cheers.

Peeps, preferably in various shapes and colors, are also a must, as are jelly beans, which really look like miniature eggs.

easter 2020: Some families even have their own special baking products for Easter, which can range from specialty bread to cookies to luxury cakes with colorful Easter decorations. My mother baked each of us a cake in the shape of Easter bunnies and Easter eggs! A few years later she let us choose which we wanted.

b) Parades

If there is an Easter parade in the city or even in the neighborhood, take the children with you and take enough pictures. If you go, you should definitely get (or make) a number of special Easter hats for everyone, as there are often competitions for the best Easter hats at these events.

Richmond, Virginia, for example, has a special Easter parade, appropriately named "Easter on Parade," which turns Monument Avenue, a beautiful tree-lined avenue with beautiful old houses and monuments, into a temporary playground for the citizens of Richmond, who rise up walk and down, show off their beanie - and their decorated dogs. There are competitions for the best bonnets, both for people and for their dog friends.

In the meantime, music is playing everywhere on the Avenue and there are many beautiful crafts and goodies for sale. There are also games for children. Parades such as these can provide very special memories.

easter 2020: Kids always love Egg Hunts, which many towns, villages or institutions organize during the Easter weekend, so if you have the chance to take the kids to an Egg Hunt near where you live, they will love it. If this is not the case, you can always hide eggs and candies in colorful plastic eggs around the house or outside in the garden, weather permitting.

Preparation for Easter: Painting Easter eggs

One of the most cherished Easter traditions, apart from actually getting and eating sweets, is painting Easter eggs.

You have two options: you can paint hard-boiled eggs and eat them later, or you can remove the contents of the eggs and paint the shells for decoration.

You may want to do both. You can always make a brunch frittata from the contents of the hollowed-out eggs and then use them to make beautiful center pieces after you have painted them.

To make those centerpieces, you can just get Easter baskets and arrange the eggs nicely in the "grass". Or you can get a few branches, with or without leaves, and decorate them with your colorfully painted eggshells. Of course there are many extra possibilities, from making a mobile and hanging it on the ceiling, to decorating a wreath with eggs and displaying it on the front door or in the corridor.

easter 2020: The painted hard-boiled eggs, on the other hand, will be part of the Easter baskets intended for consumption, and they can also be hidden for hunting Easter eggs. Make sure that the children find them all, otherwise you will get a strong foul odor from their hiding places for a few weeks.

So how can you color your eggs? After you have awesomely prepared your "canvas", the process is simple and easy.

First you have to decide whether you want to give your eggs a solid color base. If so, you can color them in a dye bath.

You will then receive a number of special Easter egg decoration tools and paint your way. It is entirely up to you whether you want to make a work of art, geometric shapes or small bunny images. You can also include stickers and special tattoos with Easter eggs. If you color eggs with your children, encourage their creativity and, above all, have fun!

Preparation for Easter: shopping for sweets

It seems that there are more options every year. It's hard to decide what else you want.

A few decades ago the choices were fairly clear. There were chocolate Easter bunnies, chocolate eggs, candy eggs, simple yellow marshmallow squeaks, jelly beans and those Cadbury cream eggs.

Now the selection has grown in all directions.

Where there were only yellow chicken skewers, now there are squeaky colors in different colors, including pink, blue and purple. There are also bunnies in different electrical colors. And yes, you can even buy sugar-free peeps for those of us who need to avoid sugar.

You can then choose from a huge range of other sweets in all shapes and sizes, from egg-shaped sweets with creamy fillings in strawberry, raspberry and coconut flavors, only for starters.

And then you can get Easter bunnies and related critters in all sizes, from pocket-sized to bunnies large enough to shrink your toddler.

Some of the smaller chocolate bunnies also come with fillings, from marshmallow to peanut butter and more.

easter 2020: How do you choose the one that your children will enjoy the most? You can ask them, take them with you, buy one of each and take notes for the coming year, or buy a really large Easter basket so that you can fit into a huge range of options.

Talking about baskets - the choice will also depend on whether you are going to assemble the baskets yourself, or whether you are going to give the baskets filled with fake grass to fill them while they hunt for their goodies at home - or garden.

Be sure to keep a few items behind in case the result of the hunt is too uneven so that you can sneak a few extra eggs into the "losers" basket to prevent tears.

It's not just about food! What else can you do in an Easter basket?

Some parents shudder at the thought of the Halloween-like candy overload that could result from Easter baskets that are limited to edible treats. So what else can you record?

Just about everything you like, really, as long as the kids enjoy it.

From CDs to games to books, to cute little notebooks, pens and erasers, you could really add anything that would be a good stocking stuffer. It is only that it goes into a basket before Easter.

You can even include small clothing items or accessories, from socks to hair decorations, jewelry and more.

And don't forget gifts for parents and friends. Here you don't have to limit yourself to rabbits and sweets, but feel free to include them, along with a choice of jewelry, a new watch or a neat new electronic gadget and even new earphones in Easter egg colors.

easter 2020: And of course no one has determined that all rabbits should be edible. Some children will enjoy bunnies that will be their friends for months and even years. In fact, a few people take the "friends" literally and give live bunnies and even chicks. That is not always a good idea, especially for the children of other people. Contact the parents - they may not appreciate the extra work. If you like baby rabbits, remember that they grow up and become big rabbits, and even more rabbits, if you don't pay attention!

Prepare an Easter party

There are no real rules for what to serve for an Easter party. Unlike Thanksgiving, Easter usually does not ask for Turkey. Instead, many families prepare a large ham or rack of lamb, or perhaps a roasted rib. But it is really up to you what you and your family like - a vegetarian brunch might suit you better.

Instead of including a recipe here, I would encourage you to prepare your family favorites. There is something very reassuring to gather around the traditional celebration every year.

When it comes to desserts, feel free to get creative and include some new elements or decorations. Unless you have a favorite dessert, that's an absolute must-have.

What to do with all those with hard-boiled eggs after Easter Celebration?

It is actually quite funny that there are basically three types of eggs that form the Easter repertoire: chocolate eggs, candy eggs and hard-boiled eggs.

And of course we don't have to worry about what to do with the first two categories - they would be saved for weeks if needed. But they are not likely to survive that long.

Instead, it's the hard-boiled eggs. Once the novelty of the decorations is worn out, there are probably leftovers in baskets around the house.

So collect them and include them in your meals.

easter 2020: Here are a few ideas for what to do with all those eggs:

a) Deviled eggs

Cut them in half, mix the yolks with your favorite combination of mustard, mayo, sauce and your favorite herbs, and fill them back in the protein halves. Serve cool.

b) Sliced   eggs as a sandwich spread

Simply cut your eggs and use them to cover sandwiches.

c) Egg salad

Finely chop the eggs, mix with mayo, mustard and onions, or anything else you want to add, and serve as a dip or on sandwiches.

d) Other salads

You can also serve them finely chopped on chef salads and potato salads. You can combine egg slices with spinach and make a warm dressing. Just get creative!

There is no wishes limit to what you can do. Take the ideas I have proposed and build on them. Consider your family's preferences and make sure you get everyone's favorites, but also add a few potential new favorites to the mix.

Above all, have fun and have a great Easter! Thanks for reading about easter 2020. Please share it to others for spreading information and knowledge about that.

https://ift.tt/2OXnVD4 August 15, 2019 at 06:48PM https://ift.tt/2IPp48y https://ift.tt/2H7rss8

[humanauction]

chapter draft - R (digitisation of youth)

R - disenfranchised middle-class youth

people, they say this new lot, these kids, are many things:

narcissistic selfish can’t focus disconnected hard to control entitled nihilistic lazy no accountability

it’s got to a stage now, that the people in charge - those people - have actually started asking them what they might want. seems a lot like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, but whatever.

to the kids, they ask:

“so what do you want?”

and these new lot they say all sorts of things:

we want to be heard we want to have a job that means something we want to make a difference we want to leave our mark on the world

and…

we want meetings on tiny chairlifts (google) we want fruit and macha tea, barista coffee for free. (zoopla) we want inclusive gym memberships (find company) and we want monthly staff prize giveaways (apple) we want fitbits (target) iPads! cereal! BREAKFAST-LUNCH-AND-MOTHERFUCKING-DINNER!!!

and so they get it. but they still aren't happy. they never use hardly any of it. but they do make sure people. all the people. their friends, fans, followers. all of those people.

:-)

sooooo lucky, babe

and this makes the kids feel.

lets break this one down for a second. what can be blamed, now that the time for blame has well and truly elapsed? you can still try it, but whats the point? most of your torturers will be dead soon if they aren't already. so anyway, coming from a blame-based culture of email accountability what have we got:

i. technology 2 - nurture C) nature IV = AAA

technology

Facebook. it has a lot to answer for. twitter, too. instagram, reddit, snapchat, VK, vine, youtube… all of them. enablers that they are. because technology has skewed the kids minds and everything they do is uploaded. everything. clever or stupid, bad or good. there forever. even if you think you deleted it. uploaded and photoshopped. because even though these kids are keen for everyone to know they are definitely having fun, the most important part becomes the enhancements. masks are added, things get rubbed out and smoothed down, everything gets a cool looking filter with a anonym. so even when having fun, the fun still needs to be improved upon before sharing it with the world for their approval. everything:

what they eat; what they wear; where they go; who is there; what makeup; cars they saw; buildings they passed.

go to a fireworks display sometime. don't take your phone. instead just look around. try to count the people just enjoying the display. then try to count all the people busily recording or streaming it for upload. all these uploads, they would be fine if they were examples of your daily happy life, but the overwhelming truth is that most of these kids, they make it look amazing but inside they don't know who they are and they are weak and they are cowardly. and yet to the rest of the world they are confidence incarnate. someone, anyone, has a question or a problem and immediately, out of nowhere:

Andreas messaged you; je$$ie commented on you link; tom messaged you; doug28 messaged you; Leon messaged you; Melinda Hart messaged you; hotdog24 messaged you; messaged you; messaged you; messaged you; messaged you…

and it goes on. and on. and hundreds of people “like” your sad, existential, question, even though this is the only genuine, honest, question anyone has asked in months. and all these scared little weak cowardly children who know nothing, you know what they say?

they tell you EXACTLY what you should be doing. no questions, no doubt. they KNOW everything about what you need to do. they simultaneously search google - with its very limited menu of results - and type comments. they copy the words of some sadu from india, or a woman respected for her feminist stance, or elon fucking musk. but they don't say this, instead they quickly repackage it for your very public consumption, with their own mark added as if this pseudo-philosophical answer isn't actually the re-hashing of some ancient, greek or german or chinese scriptures they don't even know exist.

“but why?” ask the adults, “why?”

why? why? everything always comes back to one thing. its almost a running theme through societies facilitators: the internet, mobile phones, drugs, booze, sex, gambling. they all give us this one thing that we all love:- dopamine

dopamine NOUN

Biochemistry

[mass noun] A compound present in the body as a neurotransmitter and a precursor of other substances including adrenaline.

the irony of the fact all anyone is trying to do is release something already present in their own bodies is thoroughly lost on the kids, however. they don't really know what dopamine is; all they know it they have no confidence. how do they feel better about themselves then?

posting pictures; getting various likes; gaining followers/subscribers; receiving calls & text messages; getting something shared; having their comment favourited; tweeting; being re-tweeted (that’s a big one)

because what these things do to these young minds is exactly what smoking, drugs, alcohol and gambling did for the generation before. and the results of heroin, crack, super-strength booze, barely regulated gambling, binge-encouraging licensing laws and draconian governmental drug policy have now been accepted as deeply damaging and complete failures respectively. so kids, they don't do all the normal stuff. they don't learn to get natural levels of things in your brain like serotonin or dopamine you would get from doing all those things your grandparents enjoyed so much:

dancing travel picnics laughing the cinema sports love

you get the idea. without this they have to find it elsewhere, or else be miserable. these kids, they are at a difficult point as it is, and they have access to this thing the adults don't really understand. they may have invented it, but the great thing about kids is they'll always find a better way of using your idea or invention than you ever thought of. no one ever really thought social media would end up being our primary mood regulator. and that creates a unique difference between older generations ability to access large dopamine stimulants and the new. for the traditionalists there are age restrictions. there are legal restrictions. there are “controls” placed on “substances”. but the internet and social media is an ever expanding constantly evolving dopamine dealing monster of the kind the adults have never seen before. its easy to see why as we get older religion becomes more important. when you start to see the devil in things, you start to think maybe we could do with some sort of righteous opposition.

so low self-esteem combined with a literal 24/7, 365-days-a-year access to small, neatly-packaged releases of the very addictive, Dopamine. and the adults look at the kids and they despair.

how? why?

as if living through the first attempt to supercharge the release of mind altering alkaloids and the like had happened to someone else. or maybe that’s why. and the ultimate fears of the kids are now so different. so removed as they are from the real world, everything negative is directly relatable to their social media feeds.

if 20,000 hectares of primary rainforest gets bulldozed for soya someplace? thats ok. a north african nation collapses into war creating a flood of immigration? so what.

no one liked my comment; I'm not getting as many views as previous vlogs; losing subscribers; being unfriended.

these are the things that they obsess over, reading their own posts and comments over and over and over and just check one more time in case… in case nothing, really. just to see how other people have reacted. if they have reacted. whoever they are. or most likely are not. and the adults, they don't understand. so you got unfriended, so no one liked a video you posted.

“what’s the big deal, kid?”

they don't understand. despite everything they have essentially become more technologically able versions of their own parents. they got through just in time to buy a house, to have a career, to afford a family. mostly. just. but to a young mind already busy withdrawing into a digital construct they view to be more real than the reality they occupy in, increasingly, physical form alone. it is not only a big deal, it is the only deal they can relate to. and in the end, they just end up in the same cycle of addiction that has plagued humanity since we learnt to identify, cultivate, extract, distill, process and store the things we love so much to consume to excess.

take any junkie.

please.

no, but seriously take any addict and examine their behavioural patterns for just a second. ask one addict. ask a former user. ask a junkie. ask me. ask any, ask all. ask them to take you back to when all this started and the story you get will go something like this:

“when i was between the ages of 9 and 16 something happened to me. maybe it was one thing maybe it was a series of things. maybe it was a person, an event, a situation. and whether or not this was true in hindsight, at the time, i didn't feel i had any friends or support and someone introduced me to (enter relevant drug/drink/behaviour here), and it made me feel like i fitted myself. and this was the first time i had ever really felt like that,”

rewind a second, to when you were even younger:

“when i was younger all that mattered was my parents. they stood as gods. real gods, like the one in the old books. not a kind and patient lord, no, an autocratic benevolent and wrathful being. that made me feel unimportant, scared, abandoned.”

why does this matter? let’s go back forwards for a second to most people’s ideal path through their developmental period:

so you are at an age where your parents recede in your mind as you are made aware through religion or neglect that there is a bigger picture full of clans and tribes and groups and affiliations. you need the approval of different people now. potentially people your parents would not approve of. and these people, some of them, eventually, will become something you feel a part of, support, are supported by. based on things like love, respect, and mutual understanding. as you grow older these regular and reoccurring figures lean on you and support you and they become your family.

nice, right?

but what if this never happens? not really. not physically. what if this only happens on a screen and your peers consist primarily of fans, followers, subscribers or thousands of friends you will never meet? it is human to need the tribe, because it is human to need. but back to our gambling, alcoholic, addict:

so now i’m 19-46 and I'm running through cycles of abuse, abstinence, relapse, abuse, abstinence, relapse… based on the stresses in my life. normal stresses. job problems? consume. personal problems? consume. the message is consume and he/she does so willingly. the supply is so massive demand will never catch up. it never occurs for the longest time to her/him it might be the behaviour that causes 90% of all consumption related stresses. without having ever formed any relationships in his/her adolescence that weren't mutually exclusive to the drug/drink/behaviour she/he decided to be his/her favourite(s). she/he can’t just go and see a friend. by this stage any interaction requires consumption.

but there are treatments. there are options. there are ways to get away. it isn't easy, but it is possible and there is some sort of legislation to deal with problematic members of society. if nothing else, there is medication. but with an increasingly technologically immersed society, how can someone addicted to something like social media and the internet possibly get away.

ask a scientist. ask a few. ask me. or ask google this exact thing:

people who spend more time on social media are more likely to suffer from depression than those who don’t.

and that. that’s a fact. so now you're an addict. do any of these things:

check your phone first thing in the morning? have your phone out when you are with friends? check your phone whilst driving? read emails or generally scroll whilst in meetings? message people you know are not there to answer?

addict. like it or not, thats exactly what you are.

2. nurture & 3. nature:

the western failed parenting techniques of child psychology and personal empowerment. the whole:

“you are a precious snowflake” “you are special” “you can be anything - if you try hard/want it badly enough”

and these kids, they live in a whole new world. there is political correctness for the first time. some kids always come last at everything. they used to just be last, but now? now they get a certificate or a medal for taking part. for the first time, just being there is rewarded.

but its a bit like mcdonalds in the end. you remember the star system? well if you dont, the employees wore stars they earned to show… something. but rewarding failure or mere participation, it doesn't work. in the end the medals aren't worth anything, the stars are pointless, and all they do is depress the individual who “won” it/them and has to display this very public badge of weakness or subservience. you get it in the military too - medals earned and medals given. they are two very different things, and the second are largely auction pieces.

so these kids, the ones we are talking about, they go through this whole, ever-shorter, “childhood” of entitlement, filled with promised futures of exceptional achievement.

and then they go to the workplace. not to work, because now there aren't any jobs and you are going to be working for free, then minimum wage, and eventually you’ll be a professional and wont earn enough to survive in a city like london. the kind of city you need to be in if you stand a chance at all. so these kids, they move to the new city slums and their parents guarantee rents these kids cant afford. first day, they walk in, probably late, get shuffled about for a couple of hours between people who need someone, but don't really want them and WHAM!

imagine: a huge wall, a wall so huge it blocks out the sun.

got it? ok, so now imagine that wall falling like a rogue wave off the coast of hawaii the size of an office block directly through your soul when they make you understand, these, these, these adults. make you understand, it turns out, that what you were told was wrong. everything all of it. and more relevantly here:

“you are NOT a precious snowflake” “you are NOT special” “you can NOT be anything - NOT if you try hard/want it badly enough”

ego shattered. soul screaming. hot adrenaline flushes. green soundless black-out flashes. it’s like a panic attack. oh no wait - it is a panic attack. and it hits fast. you, who can do anything, cant control panic when it hits. everyone thinks they’ll be able to. mostly no one ever can. and now you have a whole generation with a naturally low sense of self esteem, who need medication for anxiety and panic attacks on top of everything still to come. nothing is real. everything a lie, pretend, an illusion. everything is fake except for the only fake thing here. so they dive into a digital simulation of an approximation of the life they wish they have and get pleasure when people tell them they like the person they in reality, aren’t.

4. AAA

remember how it was, before the internet? before broadband?

having to wait for CDs to be released? waiting for the shops to start selling them? or records? digging through crates for weeks, month, years, for that one tune? having to go and watch bands play live to hear rare performances? that feeling of finding something new? to have to wait week-by-week for your favourite show to air? before auto-record? before boxsets? on normal analogue CRT television sets? those big massive things? having to go and take a night-class to learn something? by doing it? with other people? going to the supermarket to chose your food, let alone actual real markets? contribute to delivery costs? for anything? food? clothes? postal items? from china? having to research from books? referencing whole books? lots of them? technical books? having to use them in situ because they were reference material? microfilm? those big blue/green screens of blackness?

photocopying? like scanning, but different?

museums? of history? to see how things looked on walls? in frames? books? weapons? jewels? bones? museums? of art? deciding on your favourite school, again? style? artist? sculptor? surrealism? dada-ism? dutch? renaissance? meeting girls? meeting boys? face-to-face? standing around? asking them out? the groups? the bravado? the nerves? the acceptances? the rejections? borrowing books from the library? waiting for a book to be returned? paying fines for late returns? meeting up at the cinema? making plans in advance? agreeing where to meet because of all the people? because no phones? going to the video store and seeing if any of the newest movie were for some reason behind another movies box-cover? because they were all out? yeah, you took the copy of the movie you wanted from behind a box with the picture of the movie you wanted on it. thats how you knew they had it. and if it was a new movie, they had loads of copies.

but they always ran out. remember that?

not now, no way. now it’s all: AAA

Access All Areas

in a world of near-instant gratification, these kids they get confused. its back to the whole first day at work scenario. the one where they arrive knowing fuck all and expect to be making life-changing decisions by the end of the week, if not the day. imagine that same kid after six months, dejected, feeling wasted and useless because they aren't achieving anything related to the buzzwords they crave:

importance impact effect

abstract concepts. like time itself. irony at least is still doing a healthy trade through all of this, this, temporary glitch? collapse of civilisation? no one really knows, and increasingly the kids, they don't care. means nothing to them. doesn't give them what they need when they see pictures of it so they don't look and the algorithm makes sure that part of life goes away. and these kids, they don't know what a 10,000lb bomb looks like, let alone how you get it halfway across the globe. and drop it on someone they will never meet? definitely don't care. instant access, instant gratification - what did it get them mainly - desensitisation to everything that isn't directly related to their ever-shrinking worlds. what would you like to see?

road rage videos organised fights between rival hooligans how to cold-extract OTC drugs to leave only narcotics how to make guns and knives at home any and all types of porn, gay porn, horses fucking hookers porn dog-fighting bull-fighting murders decapitation compilations rape war-footage bombing campaigns

its all there. google it, you don't even need to boot TOR from a flash drive outside a coffeeshop and use a secure, encrypted VPN client to start surfing the real web. the “dark” web. you don't even know what’s on there. no, all of that stuff is on google. once you know this stuff exists, mainly, most people, they ignore it. they don't like it. we all know horrible stuff happens every day.

how do you build legacy, quickly? an over-night empire? seems maybe you can’t, so knowing this, the kids, they call for revolution. but what for today? we wait for nothing now and this is what they know. don't like your wrinkles? inject your face. anyone over 24 should consider it really. make-up: it’ll only get you so far. and it takes seconds. you don't need anyone even nearly like a doctor related anything to do it, either. just a girl from a shop. what could possibly go wrong? lips? cheeks? piercings? tattoos? a culture expanding as people at once require armour to protect them and imagery to define them, yet all at the expense of the seemingly increasingly expendable physical form. as they retreat into virtual reality so their ability to interact on a personal level is reduced. as they become less able to interact with different types of identities due to essentially poor socialisation through lack of experience, so they need aggressive external visual stimuli to confirm what it is they like, and by extension like to be seen doing; being; enjoying… combined with obsession in the western world with perfection of the physical form, unrealistic expectations of the human body and the now-perverted nature of sexuality, it creates people at once obsessing over how they look, yet at the same time destroying it with chemicals, inks and holes ensuring that they will never achieve the natural perfection they secretly, unknowingly programmed to strive for.

but the world, it continued despite this western regression into virtual reality. and in the meantime some terrible things have been happening.

the middle east becomes a battle ground. a global recession wipes out most peoples chances at a productive future. but these kids, none of this means anything to them. despite going global, the choices available due to the frankly poor algorithms that chose your future online, it drives the kids deeper into smaller, more extreme, more perverse groups. where all they care about is a constant rolling stream taking them down and backwards towards the last thing they saw. despite a potential global meltdown, international political upheaval, environmental catastrophe… they largely - after signing a petition maybe, or liking or sharing some corrupt culture and land destroying oil disaster waiting to happen - remain obsessed with:

what about x celebrities lips? look at the funny kitten/child/puppy limited edition gold adidas trainers cars women men food place they will never go things they will never see

they feel better. like things. re-tweet. minds so programmed to rank and number everything, this all-consuming infatuation with what the best one is, the prettiest one, the thinest… the top tens:

(search for most self/celebrity-obsessed top tens on youtube)

1. Living in a Car: Top 10 Places to Sleep 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

(+ add section of “i added him on snapchat, but i didn't subscribe to his youtube. channel.

and the adults, they don't understand what this means…)

when they look back, in the future, this will be the time. the time when the lines, they first started to blur.