#properly instead of just throwing them onto the road like insane people

[femmesandhoney]

it should not only be punishable if they don't, but completely expected for any and all smokers to go outside when they smoke. idc if it's your house and you think the garage is "close enough" get the fuck outside and stop making the garage now just reek of smoke yall fucking suck lmao. smokers can freeze in a blizzard if they want to smoke that bad.

[avada-kedavrugh]

Biggest Mistake

Summary | Imagine Jimin is your best friend and you’re hopelessly in love with him. See what happens with a fun old sprinkle of angst :)

This was a fan fiction I wrote like 2 years ago and I haven’t reread it properly but felt like posting it here

Pairing | Jimin x Reader

Genre | Unrequited? Love AU/ Best friend’s AU

Words | 2975

The blinding smile on his face grew as his eyes caught sight of you, the smile growing into a glowing grin that only became larger as he broke into a sprint, running towards you, mouthing the words you always longed to hear him say…

The thunderous sound of slamming against your front door was the rude interruption to your heavenly dream, a sigh escaped your lips as you struggled to open one eye, which quickly became disoriented to the sudden entry of dim light that squeezed itself through the curtains as you made an attempt to find out the time the demonic invader had decided to arrive.

Your eyes caught sight of your phone and with immense effort you attempted to perch forward and reach your phone, surprisingly, finding yourself crashing onto the floor in a wave of duvet and hair and an immense wave of pain.

“Y/N…” You heard a recognisable voice yell, probably disturbed by the loud sound, unaware of the sound that raced from your own chest “Are you alright?”

With a new and sudden wave of motivation you found yourself quickly stumbling towards the door, trying to make yourself look at least a tiny bit presentable after being woken up in the middle of the fucking night, or as some might say, 7am. Finally, opening the door you sighed, remembering the dream you had previously been indulging yourself in that had now been annoying ruined by your visitor.

“It’s my day off Ji-“ You began to complain.

That was until your eyes caught sight of him, the bowl cut blonde with a wide grin that only managed to make your own mouth fall as you took in the astonishing sight that you sadly were still not used to.

“Are you okay Y/N?” He eyebrows furrowing in concern as your eyes kept fixed upon his face

“Ye-Yeah,” You finally spluttered out, mouth moving back into an acceptable position of non-drawling “I thought I had been pranked, I almost didn’t see you down there” You teased, memorising the mix of amusement and irritation in his face as he moved closer to you, making your heart race, only worsened as he lightly hit your arm before brushing past you, entering your home, and simultaneously your heart.

“So, what brings you here?” You spoke, finally feeling the tiredness escape as your heart seemingly raced into action under the drowning beauty of Jimin.

“Well…I need you.”

Your eyes popped out of your sockets, as you looked at him, mouth once again mimicking that of a fish, as you attempted to splutter out a response while he just continued to smirk to himself, watching the red flush that spread across your cheeks.

“I need you to help me buy Hyuna a present.” He finally finished, gaging your reaction as you gradually returned to a mostly composed, perhaps almost human-like figure.

“Oh. Any reason? Or are you two just that lovey dovey?” You mocked, mind flashing back to the disgusting sights of Jimin with his tongue down her throat or with his arm snaked around her waist, the pair tightly wrapped together.

“It’s almost Valentine’s Day.” Jimin said, his eyes flickering with pity as you realised the date, realised your loneliness, and realised how fucked you were for falling in love with your best friend, particularly one that was now doing very well drowning his girlfriend with his tongue, completely unaware of the tears of sorrow you drowned yourself in after seeing the two together.

“Really? Where’s my date then?” You chuckled, his face finally lighting up

“Aren’t I good enough?” He laughed

“Of course, you are, but there’s something sort of in the way, the lil issue of your girlfriend, maybe?” You joked back, most of you hoping he never realisd  the truth within your jokes, though a sinister part of you begs for him to realise and finally confess his feelings to you, feelings, that were definitely non-existent.

Snapping back up to look at him you found his eyes looking at you with an unrecognisable expression, almost reading your own eyes for something, maybe he would finally understand the feeling of drowning in his eyes.

“I’ll help,” You started, snapping him out of his daze, as his eyes and lips curled up into a smile, grabbing your coat and shoes, ignoring how disastrous you looked at the dumb hour of the morning that you were sure, no one – except Jimin the clearly inhuman being – was awake at “Let’s go.”

You found yourself utterly wrong about the lack of humanity in a shopping centre at 7:30am, convincing you of the insanity of the human race. You had your hand clutched to Jimin's wrist as you attempted to manoeuvre out of the way of the groups of people emerging in the shops, silently judging you for your atrocious, ape-like appearance while you stood beside the groomed, angelic boy who was prepared for all the girls that threw glances obvious at him. Feeling the eyes on you, your heart racing and your mind repeating insults to yourself, you desperately entered a store, ignoring its contents as you tried to find an empty area to allow yourself to prepare for the judgemental stares the people gave. Summoning up all your courage you finally stopped and turned to look at the man who had just allowed you to drag him into the abandoned corner of a random store, his eyes observing the contents of the store around him.

“Did you have any ideas?” You asked him, his eyes finally snapping to meet yours with a hearty chuckle as his response

"Well certainly not this stuff." He laughed, throwing a look towards the items around the store. You turned your eyes towards the shelves, taking in the stacks of nappies that lined them, allowing yourself to glance around the store your eyes took in colourful toys, baby clothes, tiny items of furniture and the staff at the front of the store that had their eyes fixed upon the two of you, smiling as they whispered between each other.

You had bought Jimin to a baby store, you had bought Park fucking Jimin to a baby store.

"Are you really this lonely Y/N?" He began to tease, a smirk etched into his face as you furrowed your eyebrows at him

"I understand, it's okay…” Your face shone a bright shade of red while Jimin just continued to shine like the angel he was, despite his demonic teasing “I'll be your baby daddy."

His crude joke emphasised by his wink caused you to choke as you wished he would shut up as he laughed at your embarrassment

"I think I'd want someone way more attractive to be the father of my child." You finally muttered back, his teasing taking all your confidence as his own eyebrows rose to question you further but after a moment of silence he finally continued.

"Well, Tae's free." He wiggled his eyebrows slightly "And it is Valentine' Day soon." The suggestion bought your face to complete redness as you delivered a slight slap to his arm and a glare. He finally went silent before turning around and throwing a look to you

"Let's go?" You asked

"Really? I was looking forward to looking at all these nappies" He teased before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you out.

“Lingerie, really?” You spluttered, eyes wide when you finally realised Jimin’s destination as he dragged you towards the store. You didn’t think it could get any worse than being woken up early in the morning, dragged to the mall then being judged for your untamed hair, baggy clothes and exhausted face, topped off by pulling your crush into a baby store, but no, like most of your ideas, you had been entirely wrong – something you only realised as your face grew to be the same crimson colour of the lacy bra in the stores window.

“Come on, what else would you get your girlfriend for Valentine’s Day? Don’t pretend none of your boyfriend’s have ever given you lingerie.” Your eyes left his face as he mentioned the word ‘boyfriend’, instead they became intrigued in the plain wooden flooring of the lingerie store, eyes avoiding both Jimin and the underwear around you. You had had boyfriend’s in the past, well, a boyfriend.

His name was, well, is Jungkook. You had been teenagers when you got together, still living for the adventure and thrill of life which made for a whirlwind romance. The relationship began in the long summer days, days spent curled up beside Jungkook – playing Overwatch, reading comic books or going for road trips. Meanwhile, the nights were spent curled up beneath Jungkook in a typical teenage lust fuelled night. Looking back on it, you had abandoned Jimin, ignoring his messages or avoiding him when you saw him, but when the long summer days ended and the cold winter began to settle in, the warmth between you and Jungkook began to vanish until finally you both decided it was time. It was that day when you finally went to see Jimin, tears running down your face, his eyes looked at you with concern over spilling from the edges of his wide eyes before pulling you into a hug and never mentioning the months you had avoided him, ignoring his messages for days and finally replying to his messages with a blunt response. You had spent the cold night sat nestled beside him on his bed, a level of intimacy you had been having with another boy only a few days before, a boy you had now lost despite the times you told each other “I love you”. You like to tell yourself that was your excuse, your excuse for what happened next, sometimes you even wonder what his was.

He had kissed you. Jimin. Jimin had kissed you. Lip on lip. His hands had tugged you closer to him, trying to conjoin the two of you, your lips already joined in a heart-warming, intimate kiss. That you returned. He had pushed you against his bed, his body hovering over you, eyes flickering between concern, lust and an unrecognisable emotion. His eyes scanned over your face, searing into your skin as he searched for something, his eyes almost pleading to register something from your face. Sensing his conflict, you finally nodded, another mistake you had made that day, another one you liked to excuse with the argument of being a heartbroken teenager, still desperate for a thrill. His lips curled up into a smile though his eyes continued their search with concern flickering in his eyes.

You made another mistake, you pulled him down towards you, tugging on his white t-shirt that clung onto the muscles that were carved into his body. His lips finally reconnected with yours, more lust in the kiss as his hands started to journey across your body, taking their time while you desperately kissed him. His body was pressed against yours, the throb in your stomach worsened by the feel of his muscles against yours and his member prodding against your thigh. Your hands quickly moved down his upper body, memorising his muscles along the way as your hand found itself by his crotch, preparing to please him. Sensing your intentions, his hand curled up around your wrist, ceasing your desires as he slightly pulled himself away. His eyes, that drowned with emotion, taking in the sight of your face as the sound of heavy breathing filled the room.

“Why did you stop?” You finally sighed, eyes mirroring his previous look of concern. The room remained silent as his eyes, that hid so many emotions, continued to memorise each detail of your face. “Did I do something wrong?” His mouth remained shut, his eyes looking conflicted. “Jimin?” You called to him, trying to awake the boy that had awoken a desperate lust in you.

His eyes finally stopped darting across your face, meeting yours as he gave you a hasty shake of his head “You did nothing wrong,” He muttered “It was better than how I always imagined it would be…”

You never got to question him about that, you were about to, your eyebrows curling down as you realised the implications held in his words. You opened your mouth about to ask him but immediately closed it, not in fear of what could happen to your relationship, but because of your realisation of the internal conflict he was clearly having, as his eyes became emotionless.

“Jimin…” You began, hand reaching out to stroke his cheek, attempting to caress his hidden words from his puffy lips that desperately held them in.

After all your mistakes, his finally came. This was his mistake.

“I love you.” The words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them, his eyes flashing in fear as he looked at you again.

That was his mistake, and your next one was pushing him off, darting out of his room, rushing down the stairs, slamming his front door and running all the way back home. But your biggest mistake was falling in love with him.

“Hyuna would also look really hot in lingerie…or anything…or nothing.” Jimin’s words finally snapped you out of your thoughts, as you gave him a light slap to the arm and a look of disgust.

“Ew, next you’ll be telling me about your porn collection.” His mouth opened as he was about to speak, his smirk worrying you so you quickly interrupted him “Don’t even dare Park Jimin.”

His plump lips – that you wish were moving to kiss yours - moved into a pout as he feigned pain but his acting was ruined by the amusement evident in his bright eyes.

“Awh, really Y/N?” His elbow lightly jabbed you as he attempted to tease you, making you forget all the people in the store “You sure? What if I’m in it?”

“Then I don’t want to watch some vomit inducing porn Jimin.” You returned, a smirk curling up on your lips as his pout became more prominent as he mimicked a child. You laughed at him as he returned it, the sound of his laughter singing in your ears making your grin only wider.

“I bet you would watch it if Tae was in it.” He smirked back

“Of course.” You winked at him, enjoying his acting as he once again pretended be offended, hand dramatically falling against his forehead.  

“I hate you Y/N.”

“You love me really.” You teased, preparing for your next teasing comment.

But his next words left you wordless and instead a spluttering mess of a human as his eyes returned to yours, his voice sounding sincere “I do.”

Your mind flashed back to that moment over a year ago in his bedroom, maybe you would finally get your chance to confess, kiss him and never see him with Hyuna again Your mind was buzzing, words stumbling in your mind, Jimin’s face remained expressionless as his eyes read yours.

“Wh-Wha-What?” You finally spluttered out

His face changed into a look of amusement as he finally replied “What did you expect Y/N? You are my best friend.” He lavished in your embarrassment as your eyes darted away from him once again, taking in the sight of people quickly glancing away from the two of you, trying to hide the clear fact that they had been listening in. Your embarrassment worsened and an anger grew in you as you realised people had watched your commotion and probably witnessed how flustered his words made you.

“Jimin, you can’t just say that stuff.” You growled, attempting to glare at him with a menacing look, which he just frowned at.

“Why not Y/N?” He began “You are my best friend.”

“Because…because what if I thought you were being serious?” His eyes flashed with emotion before he looked at you again with a confused look

“What if I thought you actually, properly liked me?” You continued, leaving his mouth falling open “You can’t just say that shit to me Jimin. You can’t just act like I’m one of your male friends, have a girlfriend, a girlfriend you want me to help you buy lingerie for and then tell me you love me. It doesn’t work like that Jimin. What if I actually liked you? I don’t. But if I did maybe you’d be hurting my feelings?” His eyes and mouth were wide as he looked at you with shock, the silence between you became deafening as you began to drown in the look upon his face. You finally shook your head, beginning to turn away from him. Maybe you could finally fix your mistakes.  

“Just forget it Jimin. I’m going to go. Please don’t try to message me Jimin, I really won’t want to talk to you.” You started to walk away, the prying eyes of the people around you darting to look at the floor in front of them that seemingly held all their interest. Jimin’s eyes didn’t dart away and watched your figure as you took another step away, you stopped suddenly, releasing a sigh before turning back to look at him. Jimin hoped for a moment you were going to stay with him, though he realised it was selfish, an utterly selfish desire that he didn’t even have any guilt for having.  

“You should buy Hyuna some purple silky lingerie, she liked it before.” Your finger pointing towards a set of lingerie that had caught your eye and had also caught Hyuna’s a few weeks ago when you had been forced to go shopping with her, Jimin’s eyes didn’t follow your finger and instead widened at your words, shocked by your final words to him after such a dramatic goodbye. And then you walked away. And he didn’t run after you.

Perhaps that was Jimin’s biggest mistake.  

[carlkrogen]

On The Edge Of A Knife P2

There are many descents into madness. There is the fast kind, that one where you look into the eye of chaos and are changed forever. There is then another kind of decent, the kind where you have made small sacrifices on your soul that lead you to believe that there is only corruption in your future. I have seen such corruption on a number of people, one of them being my current ‘companion’.

Should I call a man I plan on killing my ‘companion’? If one had asked me a week ago, I would have said, of course. Now, I have learned a new term. I have been able to spend days relaxing, talking, debating, and… enjoying the company of another. Maybe I can say it like I haven’t said it before. I have found a friend in Ms. Lovecraft. She is a woman who is complex as she is simple. There was no way to properly describe her without saying the obvious. She is, Olivia.

“You’ve been more quiet than normal.” Farendar, the blood elf cultist was sneering at me as we made our way through a city that no living person should ever cross. It’s been years since the forces of the Alliance and Horde joined to put C’thun back into his ‘rest’. Maybe I’m not so deluded to think that he’s not dead, it’s impossible to kill a god.

The city spirals up above us. The whispers of the whispers that were once the Black Empire. These stones are a reminder to me of what can be lost if the world was given over to the old gods once again. For me, this is a warning. For a man like Farendar, this is like a missed dream he wanted to see returned.

But, he is right, I have been quiet. “I think it’s best we focus on getting the dagger then conducting small talk. After all. We will be facing the whispers toon enough.”

Our walk through the old City I can feel the stain the void has left on this place. Like someone who drinks too much coffee or tea, their teeth has become stained from the constant use. This city’s ‘tea stain’ was of the dark purply hue of the void. Even the sand has particles that are left with its presence.

Thankfully Farendar is not so lost in his want for power that he doesn’t heed my words. The more I move through the city the more I didn’t really know exactly where I was going. Pulling out the book, the book that was made from some lacking in durability human skin, Hoping that maybe some of the common parts of the book would make sense to me I opened it only to have the book flail open to a part that had the void writing. The words swam around until they started to take shape. Slowly buildings, roads, and a path was being marked out to me.

“Don’t tell me, that is the little book you have heard about our prize.” Farendar said again, but I ignored him. Instead I know to be cautious, but knowledgeable enough to go and follow the line in front of me. Maybe I should warn any other adventurer, do as I say, not as I am currently doing. You should not lead to where a book written by mad men and void entities have ventured, but right now, I am doing just that.

As we come down roads that have only been crossed by the more seasoned adventurers and explorers I know things are changing on us. On the map and when I look behind me, things are shifting in and out of place. This is an illusion, the latent void is trying to make me confused so I will be desperate later. I can tell beside me Farendar is starting to look around more frantically, he can see the changes as well. For a man set on bringing Old Gods to this world, he is not excited to see his masters rise up and meet him face to face.

“We’re going deeper now.” He said his voice not exactly as hauty as it normally is. “Deeper into the place no one should go.”

I am connected to the void. I have done rituals and I have touched the void so I could be strong enough to have a longer life. But I have yet to let a void entity touch my mind. Farendar though, I remember him accepting it, how much he started to devolve into his own brand of insanity. On a normal front he can hide it, the whispers that probably tell him a varying shade of truths. I just need to hope they don’t tell him the one I am keeping from him.

‘He will find out and beat you to the dagger’

‘When is a sacrifice not a sacrifice, when he becomes the killer’

The thoughts are not intrusive as one would think. They almost sound like me, but I know my internal voice well, it’s the only way to seperate them from who I am. The Whispers like to feed on my doubts, to remind me I’m not whole even if I have found myself in a place where I am at peace.

The map took a quick turn into a building and I can feel the presence of the void around me. It would be easy to let go, to slip down and fall so I could not have to suffer anymore. But that thought alone shook me to the core and I nearly shuddered with the touch of the void I could feel outside of my suit. “We’re getting closer.”

I don’t know why I spoke. Beside me Farendar was mouthing things beside me, things I didn’t want to hear, things I knew could create madness if they were heard. He was wide eyed, his head turning back and forth as if he was hearing something.

The tunnels down, like much of this forgotten city, had a living quality to them. Like we were inside the belly of a great big beast, more, we were inside it’s digestion track and the stone walls had slowly melded into a pulsating flesh like material that I didn’t want to comprehend. I know we were going downwards.

‘It’s too deep’

                 ‘Go too deep and you will find the bottom’

                                    ‘What lays at the bottom good Doctor?’

                  ‘Will you be there when the end comes?’

The whispers started to speak again and I had to pause in my progress as they continued their assault on my mind. When I looked up. I wasn’t in the tunnel anymore. I was in Lordearon.

The air was clean, the sky that robbins egg blue I can still remember. The thing telling me this wasn’t a dream was the sun, there was no sun even though it was the middle do the day. As I turn around I try to look for Ferandar, but I am alone. Worse, I know I am in a dream or illusion that the city has built up for me. This could either lead to the Dagger, or, my death.

The bright light, like it was a midsummer day was confirmed a moment later as I see a maypole erected in the distance. Moving towards it I feel a sense that I am being watched. At first I don’t see anyone. Then in a moment she passes me.

I know her face, and seeing it I wonder if the void claimed her like it claimed so much these days. Her red hair, pale skin, I remember who frail she was. Both of us were thin people, sickly to look at, but strong in mind. Even in this twisted memory I can see her clearly as I had all those years ago.

                                                                           ‘You are alone’

They’re right, I am.

"You no longer lack friends,"

That voice… that one wasn’t the whispers or my own. Blinking in the dream, I feel someone else coming. The world spins around and around and then, she’s there as well. My new friend. Ms. Lovecraft is standing on the other side of the light, in perfect shadow she stands guard and reminds me the truth. Not a half truth, but the full truth that the half truths have forgotten. I’m not alone. That is on longer a fear it can hold onto me anymore.

"I am your friend. I won't let you descend.” 

Her hand then came out to me, offering to pull me from this path I am on.

For one moment I am unsure which way to go. On one side there was the memory I knew, but it made me thing of the past hurts. Then there was the future. A possibility of living with out the fears I have had. If I put it that way. I knew my answer a moment after I thought it. I quickly took Ms. Lovecraft’s hand and suddenly, I was in the dark. Mostly in the dark. The room had lighting from the strange glowing in the walls, but I was back where I had been before I lost my way. Only this time, I was fully alone.

There are a two ways to descend into madness. One way being through slow soul sacrificing choices. Others are throwing yourself head long into the belly of a great beast.

((Big ol’ Mention from: @olivia-lovecraft, Quest by: @singing-over-bones))

[forever-rogue]

Our Little Secret

Request: Can you please do one where the reader and Tom Hiddleston are on set for the Avengers movies and since she’s a huge fan of Loki (and Tom, obviously) she asks him for a hug in his Loki costume??

A/N: I just adore Loki and Tom so much! I like to think this could actually happen. I hope you all enjoy! Taglists and Requests are open! xx

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: FLUFF -> so much fluff!

MASTERLIST

Y/N marveled at the set all around her, eyes scanning quickly to take in every minute detail. Everything was so intricately crafted and lovingly made, down to the last tiny cracks, crevice, and grooves. How she actually had gotten lucky enough to be here was beyond her  - but things had worked in her favor and she had won a radio contest. Fast forward and she was wandering through the sets of the latest Avengers movie.

“This is insane,” the girl, Sirah, next to her said as they looked through the props, “these are all so cool.”

“I know,” Y/N agreed as she ran her hand over one of Thor’s props, “everything is made so beautifully. You can just see how much love and craftsmanship went into all of these things.”

“Right?” Sirah said as she looked up and her eyes suddenly widened - she had spotted a group of the actors milling about, getting ready to film. She nudged Y/N’s arm and tried to guide her line of vision to what she was looking at without being too obvious.

“Wow,” Y/N whispered as the two girls squealed. Their tour guide had noticed that they were falling behind, indicated for them to follow, but slowed her pace.

“You guys are very lucky,” the tour guide had a smile on her face, “I didn’t know anyone was going to be on set today - there wasn’t anything scheduled. Must be some extra shoots.”

“Can we meet them?” her companion asked in a giddy voice, giving the guide her best puppy dog eyes.

Y/N looked between the two of them before looking up at the small group. She studied them for a second when none other than Tom Hiddleston himself looked up and made eye contact with her. He gave her a warm, glowing smile before turning back to the group he was chatting with. She felt her eyes cheeks heat up as she realized what happened - Tom Hiddleston had just noticed her!

“Let me go on and check with them, it’ll be just a minute,” the tour guide said as she started to head towards the group. Y/N’s heart almost stopped with nervousness and excitement. What would she say? What would she do?

“Oh my God! Can you believe we might get to meet them!?”

“I feel I’m gonna forget how to breathe!” Y/N said as she watched the tour guide speak with the group of actors. They all appeared to be playing some minor characters, other than Tom of course. She could see them listening intently before several heads were nodding in agreement.

She went back to studying the props, trying not to stare and seem over eager.

“Good news ladies, they’d love for you to come and say hi!” Y/N and the other girls quietly cheered, not believing in their own luck. She chuckled at the star struck girls before ushering them over to the group, “guys, these are our very lucky contest winners, Sirah and Y/N. Thank you for taking the time to say hi to them.”

“Lovely to meet you all,” Sirah said as she flashed the actors a stunning smile, “I can’t wait to see you all in the new movie! Thank you for letting us come onto the set when all working so hard.”

She is charming, Y/N thought to herself as she hoped she didn’t seem awkward and boring compared to her. The group seemed all seemed very kind and made small talk easily with them. Y/N largely chose to remain silent and observe, rather than forcing herself into her conversation.

“Guys! We need to get back to shooting!” Tom’s head turned in the direction of the director’s voice as they were needed back in front of the camera. He held up a hand indicating that they were coming.

“You all best get going, thank you for your time,” the tour guide smiled at them as they said their goodbyes and started heading off. Sirah enthusiastically waved them off and Y/N gave them a round of smiles. She noticed Tom was hesitant to leave. He watched Y/N closely for a moment as someone shouted his name.

“Y/N, it was lovely meeting you,” he said in his voice, soft and rich like honey, as he leaned over and gave her a big hug. She couldn’t help the giant smile that appeared on her face and stretched from ear to ear. He looked down at her and said quietly, “I know this is forward and all, and I don’t ever do this, but I can’t help myself - would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

Y/N looked at him in amazement, unsure if she just heard him correctly. She stared at him dumbly for a moment before properly processing and nodding slowly, “yeah, okay.”

“Wonderful! Do you know where Luigi’s is?” he asked as he was called again. Y/N nodded as a small smile formed on her face, “perfect. I’ll meet you there at 7?”

“I’ll be there,” she promised as he grinned at her and gave her an affirmative nod. He headed off to where everyone was waiting for her - leaving Y/N standing in a haze. The tour guide and Sirah seemed oblivious to what just happened as they continued looking through the props and set piece. She pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Tom Hiddleston had asked her out. Her! Of all people. She clasped her hands together in delight as what had just happened. She had a date with one of the most handsome and talented men in the world!

Y/N stood in front of the agreed upon restaurant, looking at the time on her phone. It was just a few minutes before Tom was supposed to meet her. All sorts of thoughts were racing through her mind, including wondering if this was some sort of set up. Would he actually do that though? It seemed unlikely that he would be the type of person to do that, but he couldn’t help but wonder.

She smoothed her dress down and wondered if this was a mistake. She sighed quietly to herself and wondered if she should just leave before anything embarrassing happened or she was stood up.

Just as Y/N made up her mind to leave, she heard footsteps approaching her, followed by a quite throat clear. She looked up to see Tom standing there, looking dapper as ever, a big smile on his face, “hello there, Y/N. I’m so pleased you could make it!”

“Tom, hi,” she said, at a loss for words by his sudden appearance, “I-yeah, thanks for asking me to come.”

“I don’t normally just be so bold and ask women out in such a brash manner,” he explained as he ran a hand through his curls, “but when I saw you, you just took my breath away. I just had to say something.”

“Really?!” Y/N asked with wide eyes. Needless to say, she had never just had someone approach her in such a matter before - it was a shock, but a welcome one at that.

“I don’t think that should come as much of a surprise,” he stated as he observed her and gave her an up and down look. She bit her lip before shyly looking away, “well, I hope I don’t make you nervous!”

“Oh no,” she stuttered a little bit, “I get asked out by some of the best looking celebrities all the time!”

Tom burst out laughing, throwing his head back, and she couldn’t help but laugh too. She hadn’t actually meant to say that out, it sort of just happened, but she was happy to come off as amusing rather than the nervousness she felt. Once he stopped his beautiful laughter, he opened the door to the restaurant for her and ushered her inside.

The evening ended up much less awkward than Y/N had anticipated - the two of them ended up having a lot of chemistry and conversation followed easily.

As Y/N was taking a swig of the dark red wine that Tom had selected when she noticed he was staring at her intently. She felt a pang of self consciousness as she set the glass down and wiped her face, making sure no bits of food were sticking to her face.

“What is it?” She asked shyly as looked at him, and he shook his head as he noticed her trepidation.

“Nothing, please do forgive me,” he said quickly as he laid his napkin on the table, “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“You made me think I had something on my face!” she laughed, “quit making me so nervous!”

“It was an accident, I swear!” He laughed as she mockingly narrowed her eyes and relaxed a little bit, “besides, can you blame someone for admiring such a beauty?”

“Are you always this much of a dork?” she asked as he simply nodded in response.

“I’m afraid so, darling,” he agreed, “I hope that won’t be too much of a problem. I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it.”

She paused when she heard she processed what he had said - get used to it? As in he wanted to see her again? 

“Get used to it, eh? Does that mean you want to see me again?” she asked with a bit of trepidation. Biting her lip, she focused on her plate and pushed around the last bits of food on it.

“Yes, of course I’d like to see you again,” he said as he cocked his head to the side and studied her, “that is, if you’ve had a good enough time to see me again. I hope I haven’t bored you half to death!”

“Boring? You?!

“Believe it or not, I have had several women tell me I’m quite boring. The personality of blanched celery, one of them said,” he shrugged with a smirk as she barely managed to contain her laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she wiped a tear from her eye, “but it just seems hard to believe anyone would ever say that about you. I mean, you’re you! I do, however, plan on using the term blanched celery from now on!”

“But see, now you’ve been cautioned; if you end up finding me boring eventually, you can’t blame me. I gave you full disclosure,” he said as he leaned forward in his seat and gently placed his hand over hers. She felt her cheeks warm up a little bit, but didn’t move her hand, enjoying his touch instead.

“I’m sure I won’t mind,” she said quietly, trying to keep herself grounded.

“What do you say we get out of here and go for a walk? It’s a nice evening out, and there’s this killer ice cream place at the park a few blocks down the road,” he asked and she nodded eagerly.

Y/N enjoyed the cool evening breeze as she and Tom walked side by side in the quite evening. Their conversation was quite and intermittent, but it never felt awkward or forced - just two people enjoying each other’s company. After a few minutes, Tom reached for Y/N’s hand and gently entwined his long slender fingers with hers, his hand grasping her firmly. Neither of them said anything, but they both were feeling giddy on the inside.

“How much longer are you going to be here?” she blurted out suddenly and cringed at herself.

“I’ll be here for a few more months,” he responded quietly, “and after that I have to return back to London for a bit, but I don’t want you to worry. We’ll figure things out. Besides you never want to rush the best things in life.”

“That’s a bold statement to make this early on,” she chided lightly as she swung their hands back and forth, “what makes you think this is so special?”

“I feel like sometimes you just know,” he said, “to be quite frank, and I hope this doesn’t scare you off,  I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. The moment I saw you, it was just this weird rush, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.”

“That’s...so weird,” she responded quietly as she looked anywhere but at Tom.

“Too much?”

“No, it’s just...no one has ever said anything like that to me before,” she admitted and Tom let out a quite sigh of relief, “it’s crazy to hear. Not that I think it’s bad or crazy, just..different. But in a good way.”

“I’m glad I haven’t scared you off yet,” he guffawed as he held onto her hand and stopped her from going walking further. She looked at him and he smiled at her, as she studied the features of her face. She almost felt naked under his touch. He almost whispered, “can I try something?”

She didn’t verbally respond but nodded slightly as she spied him coming closer. He softly kissed her, his lips moving in time with hers both gently, but with a sense of purpose - and dominance. She noted almost immediately that he was the best kisser she’d ever had. His hands slipped down to her waist, and held onto her hips firmly, but not hard enough to leave marks.

Y/N sighed peacefully into his mouth as they continued to kiss, refusing to break apart. She wrapped her arms his neck and held onto him tightly. Eventually she pulled back from him and smiled, her cheeks flushed from the excitement of the moment.

“Too forward?”

“Not at all,” she giggled as she playfully slapped his chest, “but - and don’t let this get to your head - you are a phenomenal kisser.”

“Oh?” He said cheekily, “I’m glad you think so. Does that mean I’ll get to do that again?”

“Hmm,” she shrugged as she stepped back from him. She chuckled as she headed down the sidewalk and continued walking towards the park. Tom watched her go for a second before taking off after her, taking only a few strides with his long legs to catch up with her, “oh hello there.”

“You never answered my question,” he said hastily as he reached for he hand, “I’m hoping it’s a yes?”

“It’s a hell yes,” she confirmed as she put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. He smiled into the kiss as she answered all of his questions. Whatever this was - whatever it ended up being, it was amazing now and that was all that mattered.

Permanent Taglist: @ruinerofcheese @courtneychicken  @santa-crew @supernatural508 @ssweet-empowerment @nerissa98 @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @wearegoldeninthenight @mannatgalhotra @prxttybirdz @piensa-bonito @mightyhemsworthy @shewalksinanotherworld @jems8241 @bookaddic @fairyxxfighter @asguardiansoftheavengers @esoltis280 @the-bright-lights @artisticlales @loislp @dixonsbugaboo @sleepylunarwolf @patzammit @thisismysecrethappyplace @princess-evans-addict @bookgirlunicorn

[thejamaicanweeb]

Mitosis - Soul Division Am I in trouble?

Hello Friends! Here is the prologue to this first part!

https://tinyurl.com/obey-me-mitosis-prologue

 I’m planning to have the next part up by the 7th, God willing! I hope you enjoy!

January 6th 2020, Sunday

Strap in guys, we in for a wild ride.

I’m still shook. Like, legitimately shaken to my core. My world hasn’t just been turned upside down, oh no. They have tossed my life in a blender with the lid off and some asshole just let it rip. The only thing that’s grounding me (besides writing this down now, I guess) is the fact that the first thing my dumb, clumsy ass self did when I settled down properly into my new bedroom was bang my pinkie toe on the bed frame. So yep, definitely awake. I’ve probably known for a while, but that kinda clinched it.

So let me give a rundown of how I got where I am, like my whole situation. Imagine if you get an email from the Dean of your faculty. And she wants a meeting. Now if you were like a little goodie two shoes in prep/primary school, high school and (be honest with yourself, people) university, your heart just about sinks down to the core of the earth as you shift through everything from being late to classes to unpaid school fees, just anything that could cause this calamity. Well, I couldn’t think of anything so I go, fix up myself a likkle, get to the office without throwing up and knock.

“Come in,”

Just like the rest of the recently built facility, the Dean’s office had big rectangular glass panels as windows to make the most of the nearly year-round bright sunshine (i.e. death.) The sunlight was a stark, almost hilarious contrast to the arctic air conditioning. Then, on top of the A/C, she had a fan running! Like who even? What?? Thermoregulation, where art thou?

Dean Reid smiled at me from behind her desk; but when I saw my parents there too, my heart sank through the damn core and was now weightless. Funny enough, I felt like that now, like everything was all surreal and floaty. 

“Ah, Sinai! Come in, come sit down. Don’t look so worried man, you’re not in trouble” 

I have to hand it to her, one of the Dean’s best qualities that she always tries to put at ease, you know? It’s almost scary, like supernatural ... But I know my parents and they’re wound up. Which wound me up. Normally whatever makes them worry is a cause for me to worry too.

“Good Afternoon Dean Reid” The strange couch-like chair gave a bit when I sat so I sank about 2 inches, thankfully with no embarrassing squeaky sounds. The Dean surveyed me for a few seconds before she spoke.

“So Sinai, I will not prolong your anxiety any longer. I have called you to meet along with your parents to discuss an exciting opportunity to take part in an international exchange programme.”

The only sound was the gentle rustle of the papers on the desk being blown by the rotating fan.

“Exchange Programme?” 

I must have looked absolutely baffled because Mummy spoke up at that point.

“Yes, Dean Reid was just expounding on a few of the key points. Apparently, this will be the first of its kind and will last for a year.”

A year? “Oh, ok” My leg began jittering up and down at that point. 

“It would involve six students from 3 different regions, with two representatives from each.” the Dean smoothly continued with her explanation. “The curriculum is designed in a way which would ensure that one you return you can reintegrate with your current year group seamlessly. Regarding expenses... you would have none.”

“N-None?”

With a small smile, she slid a brochure into my hands. I didn’t even look at it.

“Yes Ms. James, none. Food, utilities, tuition, and general day-to-day expenses, will be taken care of. In addition to classes you are, of course, allowed to explore your host country-”

“With who?” 

That was the first time Daddy had said anything since I came up here at least. All worse it was his dangerous voice. You know that kind, the kind that says “If you’re f-ing around right now you’re screwed”? That one.

“Every student who takes part will, of course, be assigned to very capable individuals whose role involves not only ensuring the safety of their exchange students but also to enrich their experience by being a cultural guide so to speak.”

I’ll be real with you guys. This was probably the point where I should have been “Hm, this sounds too good to be true. Where is the catch?”. It’s a good thing my parents are smarter than me, don’t it?

“Dean Reid, with all due respect. This seems like a wonderful opportunity but quite frankly, aside from your word, how can we vouch for the legitimacy of this venture? Especially with this being the inaugural year for this...this event?” 

Daddy picked up right where Mummy had left off.

“I think we would also like to know how Sinai was chosen for this. I certainly don’t remember her applying to anything like this, and other students perform better academically.”

Gee, thanks Dad, Yuh mek it soun’ like I’m a wasteman. I side-eyed him and he side-eyed right back. [You’re making be out to be a delinquent]

“That may well be true Mr. James, this particular programme aims to have a more holistic approach. Of course, academic achievement was a big deciding factor…” she trailed off, squinted at her glasses, put them on her face and smiled once more.

“... but something that we find just as important as an individual's honesty, their loyalty. Integrity and the willingness to help others. We value those who are empathetic and those who mediate with words, and impartiality, not violence or anger. So, to answer your question in one statement, Sinai was chosen because we believe she embodies these characteristics, quietly yes, but consistently.”

I wished I could disappear; I had started to feel kinda uncomfortable. Something didn’t sit too right with me all the same. There were thousands, thousands of people in this place and I’m sure there mussi [must be] be a good amount who were better people than me. Or at the very least didn’t cuss as much (not that that really matters,). I wasn’t buying it. I let myself detach so I could really think about this insane turn of events.

How the hell would I leave for a year? A whole YEAR!?

You’d never get a chance to do this again. Do you really want to pass that up?

It should go to someone good enough who deserves it, not me.

Stop with that crap. C’mon, really think about this.

I’m thinking. I’m thinking about the fact I’m 23 going 24 and I haven’t slept over at a friend’s house before, and no, all-nighters in the library don’t count.

Where would I even go? 96, 97 percent of the population here at home is black, I can’t handle being a minority I’ve never had to deal with outright prejudice.

Ugh! You are being so so stupid! They wouldn’t just carry you to some random place and leave yuh jus’ suh. Sinai. For like two decades you’ve gone and followed every rule to the book, tried to please every person, tried to look after everyone but *you*. You’ve done nothing exciting or new. Never gone out to parties or drank or even dated. Like, shit girl, you’ve never ever even ditched class and one time the only person who had shown up was the lecturer.

But-

Think a whole year of tuition taken care of that will help when Matthew starts, won’t it?

That’s what did me in folks. Matthew is my (not so) baby brother. I love him so so much and I always try to take care of him but things normally get messed up, and he’s the one who helps me instead. 

You can look after him.. Right here, right now. All you have to do is say-

Fine! God, for fuck’s sake “I’ll go!”

Now it took yours truly a hot minute to realise that I practically shouted that last part to the heavens. 

Dean Reid raised her eyebrows while Mummy and Daddy looked straight up dumbfounded. Heck, I was dumbfounded. 

“Well, Ms James, I didn’t expect an answer during this meeting, but you seem quite enthusiastic,”

I felt my face burn as I let myself slouch into the chair. 

“While it is time-sensitive, (They’d need an answer within 3 days and I would leave four days after that) I still encourage you to discuss this before you make an ultimate decision.”

As we had left, I did something that I hadn’t done in a long time. I took each of my parents’ hands and walked all the way out of the building, right in between them. We’d be up for a long, long time that night.

                                ( •_•)>⌐■-■  STAGE CHANGE (⌐■_■)

The sky was still dotted with stars, the indigo just starting to lighten as the dawn approached. Only a few cars were on the road, one of which was a red SUV making its way along the Palisadoes Road. The man driving had one hand in a tight knuckled grip on the steering wheel, the other in a fist clenched on his thigh. His jaw was set and his eyes were dull as he focused on the road without really seeing anything around him. His wife’s face was flushed and crumpled with a continuous stream of tears. The occasional hiccough interrupted her weeping. In the back seat, a young man stared out of the window, stony-faced. One of his broad hands held his sister’s smaller one as she gazed out her own window. She tried her best to hide her gears and take in as much of her home as she could before she departed.

Sinai was fighting sleep, and it was winning. Her tears gradually subsided. Matthew glanced at her when he felt her grip on him loosen. After a casual glance at the rearview window to ensure there were no witnesses, he slowly shifted her head onto his shoulder, snickering slightly at the spot her hair products had left behind on the window. He sat stiffly before allowing himself to rest his chin on top of her head. As he yawned, a vague memory came to him of a similar situation, back when she was still taller. Then he was adrift in sleep as well.

                                     ╯︿╰ STAGE CHANGE ╯︿╰

The soft gentle breeze caressed her face. She groaned and batted at it; she wasn’t ready to wake up yet. Bit by bit the warm heat of the sun and the itchy, somewhat soft grass underneath her clued her in to the fact that she wasn’t in a car or plane. She opened her eyes, only to be dazzled by the sun. When she could finally orient herself, she stood up, wide-eyed. The sun was just starting its descent in an azure sky that was streaked with rose and grey and gold, and she was on a grassy knoll. She moved to push her glasses up her nose, only to find she wasn’t wearing them. Vaguely aware of the fact she shouldn’t be able to see clearly, she looked down at the rest of herself. She was in a delicate knee-length white dress that felt weightless. Nothing was familiar except for the inexplicable piano music playing a tune she had heard before but couldn’t place. She blinked and she was no longer alone. Seven figures were around her, some sitting, some standing.

These men were complete strangers.

She had known these men all her life. 

They all wore peaceful smiles, talking and laughing and ribbing each other. She sat back down and almost immediately, two of them sat on either side of her. The shorter of the two promptly laid his head in her lap and drifted off to sleep. She exchanged a glance with the taller one and they laughed. A few minutes later, they made a game of trying to see how many dandelions they could put on the sleeper’s hair and face before he awoke. 

She sensed someone standing behind her and looked up to see the eldest of the men standing above her, a soft smile on his face that only she and the other two were capable of bringing out of him. She beamed back up at him. The light graze of fingertips on her cheek bought her attention back down to the one resting on her lap. He was now awake, blinking up at her. He was halfway through a sentence, his lips forming words she couldn’t hear before he stopped, his brow furrowed. He pulled his fingertips away and they were wet. Her own hands flew up to her eyes. Why was she crying?

The pastel hues of the sky shifted dramatically to a scarlet moon and darkness. The grass died, withered and turned to dust which blew into her eyes, blinding her. She cried out, kneading at them with her knuckles. When she opened her eyes she froze, the whites of her eyes fully visible. She felt as though two anchors were chained to her ankles, preventing her from running from the horrific battle taking place in front of her. Normally beautiful celestial faces twisted with pain and rage and fear. Shrieks and screams contrasted with the music, which was still going on. It was mockingly calm while the world was falling apart around her. The cloying iron scent of blood made her vomit. It was everywhere. It turned the dust under her feet to mud, making her feel like she was sinking further and further, becoming so immobilized that even when a figure flew at her yielding a burning scimitar she didn’t move. Someone grabbed her under her arms and yanked her out of harm’s way. The eldest immediately engaged her attacker, bellowing at her to run. She somehow found herself behind the pair that sat beside her. They were matching their assailants blow for blow but with their backs turned, neither of them saw the pair of archers taking aim.

“No. No, no no…” she whispered. She felt as though she was a passenger in her own body as she took off running, ignoring the surprised yells. The archers changed their trajectory. Her stomach felt hollow as she noticed a third one taking aim at the shorter man.

Two names she had never heard before left her lips; a desperate warning.

She let out a sigh of relief as the other orange-haired young man managed to pull the other out of the way moments before the arrow would have buried itself right between the shoulder blades. A heartbeat later white-hot pain laced across her face, followed by another cruel, cold shaft of metal that buried itself between her ribs. There wasn’t even time to scream.

Flesh was burning and her skull was cracking along the sutures and muscles were ripped from bones. It was agony beyond which any soul could withstand, and all the while she just kept falling. The entire time the piano kept playing. 

                                     (￣﹃￣) STAGE CHANGE(￣﹃￣)

Hundreds and hundreds of miles away in a different country. A young woman bolted upright in her bed with a gasp. She trembled as her wide eyes darted around her darkened dorm room; the moonlight highlighting her unshed tears. The delicate silver chain with a cross inlaid with minuscule blue gemstones felt icy against her skin. She laid a hand on her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow down. 

She fumbled in the dark for her phone on the bedside table, nearly knocking her glasses to the floor. It was just after 4 am and the last WhatsApp conversation she had was still open.

“That’s right, she’s leaving today,” she mumbled. She set the phone back down, laid on her back and stared up at the ceiling. The last thing she wanted was for Sinai to worry about her; not when she had something this major to deal with. It could wait until later.            

Thank you so much for reading! As you can see, Sinai has a habit of mixing in creole with her English dialect. If this is annoying or confusing then please let me know oki? I had planned for the perspective to shift from the first person (through her journal entries) and the third person (which can be anyone else). Again, my writing skills are pretty rusty so if this is a bit confusing, it's oki to say so! I won’t bite!

The Prologue

https://tinyurl.com/obey-me-mitosis-prologue

The next part

https://tmblr.co/ZvTssUYw9xgNmW00

The piano song that I had in mind (if you want to check it out)

https://tinyurl.com/bluestone-congfei

If you want to read on Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26415919/chapters/64353631#workskin

[rich-ditch14]

Stereo Hearts

This was super long because it’s a long song, but here it is! Sorry for the wait @s-s-s-stutteringbill ... hope it is what you wanted!

(For anyone else, send in a request and I can write anything that is consensual)

My heart's a stereo, It beats for you, so listen close, hear my thoughts in every note Eddie wouldn't admit it, but every time Richie opened his loud mouth, he'd stare with doe eyes wishing Richie would stop being so loud and annoying and notice that Eddie liked him. He wanted Richie to hear his thoughts and feelings. He wanted Richie to listen to him as well as he listened to his favorite songs.

Make me your radio and turn me up when you feel low, this melody was meant for you just sing along to my stereo Bill and Stan brought this to Eddie’s attention when they were past the point of annoyed because “Richie is only being this loud and obnoxious to get your attention dumbass”.

Richie was especially over the top when Eddie was down, wanting to cheer him up. It worked usually worked as Eddie forced himself to laugh as they both just rolled with it until Eddie’s laughter was genuine.

Richie wanted Eddie to know that he’d always be there for him.

If I was just another dusty record on the shelf would you blow me off and play me like everybody else? Richie didn't admit that he liked Eddie because, if he was honest, he was out of Eddie’s league. He was a walking chemical, always filled with cigarette smoke and alcohol, Eddie, on the other hand, was a straight-A student with colleges practically begging him to come to their campus. He was satisfied with being friends.

If I asked you to scratch my back, could you manage that? The two were riding home on their bikes when Richie’s bike broke. While Richie was fixing the chain on his bike, Eddie decided this was a good time to confess. Richie couldn’t exactly ride away.

“Richie,” Eddie started, biting his nails to keep his hands from shaking.

“Yeah Eds?” Richie looked over his shoulder from his bike he was fixing.

“I told you, don't call me that,” Eddie lost his train of thought.

“Okay.” Richie’s attention went back to.. a stone on his ground.The bike he was working on was momentarily forgotten.

“Richie,” Eddie sighed exasperated, “Richie I need to tell you something”

“Yeah? Did you finally use those birth controls on my sister? Sorry. That's not funny.”

“That's not funny,” Eddie repeated before taking a deep breath in,  “I need to tell you something, and I need your 100% attention.”

Furthermore, I apologize for any skipping tracks, It's just the last girl that played me left a couple cracks

At first, Eddie didn't know if Richie even liked guys or was even looking for a relationship, he was with a girl for a couple months, but she left him leaving him heartbroken and swearing that he'd never be in a relationship again, but then Bill and Ben told Eddie that Richie was apparently bi.

'Cause holding grudges over love is ancient artifacts “Do you like me?” Eddie asked, not the question he meant to ask.

“Um… Yeah?” Richie raised his eyebrows.

“Cause I like you. Like, I really like you.”

“Like a crush you mean,” Richie stated the situation bluntly. He pulled out a cigarette, identifying himself as nervous at the moment.

If I could only find a note to make you understand, I'd sing it softly in your ear and grab you by the hand “I don’t know how to say it anyway else, but I like you. A lot. I wish you could see my brain cause I go fucking insane thinking about you!” Eddie confessed, unable to find the right words to tell Richie, who looked more confused than anything.

“A lot of people go fucking insane thinking about me,” Richie made a sarcastic reply basing off of people telling him that his talking made them want to kill themselves.

“You know what I mean!” Eddie curled his fingers resisting the urge to throw a punch, deciding it was a bad idea to tell Richie.

Just keep it stuck inside your head, like your favorite tune Richie listened silently as Eddie spilled his feelings onto the dirt road, the words scattering to the ground and Richie picked up each word, treasuring them in his mind and locking up the key. It was too good to be true.

And know my heart's a stereo that only plays for you Richie could say his life was a broken stereo, only playing certain lyrics smoothly for a couple minutes, but with Eddie, somehow that love mended most of the cracks. Richie’s life got better when he was around Eddie. Each kiss, touch, and reassuring word slowly healed the scars the years gave him.

If I was an old-school fifty-pound boombox, would you hold me on your shoulder wherever you walk Richie knew Eddie always had his back and vice versa. They both had their fair share of beatings from bullies because of standing up for each other.

Dating Richie did come with negative baggage, but Eddie was strong enough to carry it with Richie. Richie was known as a fuckboy, a thief, and drunk. He was clearly bad news for everyone, but none of those were true and Eddie would defend Richie, even more now than when they were friends. The other boys would stand up for them as well.

Would you turn my volume up in front of the cops (turn it up) When Eddie and Richie became a couple, people bitched at Eddie, telling him that he could do better, even if they didn't believe in the gays.

They warned that Richie was just using him to fuck and then dump. Like they knew anything about the Trash Mouth Tozier. Richie would slink back, hating that he was bringing bad lighting on Eddie’s life. His own dark life seeping into Eddie’s, but Eddie would always defend himself, proud as ever.

And crank it higher every time they told you to stop “Stop dating that freak!” People would say.

Instead, Eddie grabbed Richie's hand, curling his fingers around Richie, swinging their arms as they walked down the school halls, both of their eyes daring people to come at them. Richie could see now, maybe his dark reputation shadowed Eddie’s, but Eddie’s bright soul brightened his as well.

And all I ask is that you don't get mad at me when you have to purchase mad D batteries Richie attempted to stop smoking and drinking due to Eddie’s request. He was scared that he'd relapse and Eddie would hate him for it and break up. His last relationship burned because of his problems. When he did relapse, he worried himself to tears and confessed to Eddie, only to be hugged and comforted.

“Relapsing is normal. I'm just glad you told me, it's a step in the right direction.”

Appreciate every mixtape your friends make Even though the school hated them, their three friends stood by them as strong as they stood beside them when defeating the clown. Richie still felt bad, and Eddie could feel his boyfriend slipping, afraid and ashamed he was making Eddie look bad and that Eddie would leave him. Fuck appearances, Eddie thought.

I think I finally found a note to make you understand, If you can hit it, sing along and take me by the hand “Richie Tozier,” Eddie stormed up to Richie one day at school in front of everybody, making a scene. Good, he wanted that. Richie turned around from talking to Bill and Eddie took him by the cheeks and kissed him in front of everybody.

“Yep! This motherfucker’s my boyfriend so if you have a problem with it, you can go fuck yourselves!” Eddie shouted.

“Fuck, I love you,” Richie grinned, any traces of doubt leaving his mind as he took Eddie by the hand, kissing Eddie again just for good measure.

Just keep me stuck inside your head, like your favorite tune Richie’s mind ran faster than his mouth, so a complex, thorough thought was near to impossible, but Eddie somehow grounded him. Which is why he could heal properly. Eddie was his new, healthier drug. And that kiss, that was deadly but beautiful. He couldn’t stop grinning the whole day,

You know my heart's a stereo that only plays for you Neither boy felt feelings so strong as they felt for each other. They dug their hearts out and gave them to each other, their feelings at the mercy of the other. Together though, it made them stronger.

I only pray you'll never leave me behind (never leave me) Because good music can be so hard to find (so hard to find) Richie knew he wouldn't go to college, he was barely scraping by in high school. Eddie now, he was an A student, able to go to any college he wanted to within financial realism. He begged Eddie not to leave him. Well, leave as in dump, he wanted Eddie to go to college and they could do a long distance thing or Richie would just move up and live in the general area. They would do long distance.

I take your hand and hold it closer to mine, thought love was dead, but now you're changing my mind They were falling asleep together in Eddie’s bed, curled up together for warmth, making out innocently, engulfed in each other’s lips. Richie marking Eddie's collarbones carefully as Eddie ran his fingers through Richie’s hair, which was now curly.

“And who said romance is dead” Eddie joked silently.

“I didn't. I said love is.” Richie started, pausing and waiting till Eddie opened his eyes to grin.

“I mean, right now you're changing my mind”.

[rickycorderbro-blog]

Relaxation and Revelations||Ricky and Quinn

loose lips sink ships

The road to recovery was slow...as....fucking... balls. Ricky thought being cooped up in his apartment resting had to be the most boring thing he could possibly do since with only one working hand he was constrained to playing games that were turn-based or just laying on his couch and moping while watching Futurama reruns for the forty-seventh time. He'd eaten all the junk food, drank way too much, and was seriously considering developing a small drug habit when his doorbell rang brightly. Annoyingly brightly. Like it was rubbing it in Ricky's face that it worked properly and he didn't. There was a brief moment when Ricky considered trying to struggle into a shirt... but he didn't feel like leaving his guest out on the porch for twenty minutes while he made a fool out of himself. Instead he pulled the door open in all of his shirtless glory to reveal Quinn on his doorstep. "Oh hey man. Probably shoulda taken the time for a shirt but... fuck it. Come on in."

Quinn knew that Ricky was hurt. He had seen the way the bone had snapped on the camera. It was sickening, especially the sound. It was odd to keep having images of it blur though his mind when he thought of Ricky. But he still wanted to see him, to make sure that Ricky was feeling better, and it didn't hurt that he liked to see Ricky. He'd also brought something. Quinn walked, and rang the doorbell, hoping that Ricky wasn't sleeping or doing something that he was interrupting. But then he came to the door, shirtless of course. He flushed slightly, though perhaps less than he usually did. "Hey," he said with a small shrug. He wasn't going to complain about Ricky being shirtless. "I figured you could use some company?" he asked with a small smile, holding up a bag. "I brought snacks and beer. I have a fake,"

A broad grin crossed Ricky's face as he ushered Quinn through the door, "Sorry the place is a mess. Cleaning's a fucking whore now because of the arm." Shutting the door he paused the episode he was on and raised an eyebrow, "You've got a fake? How is that even close to effective. You look like a prepubescent milkmaid. However... I'm out of booze so I'm not going to turn beer down. Nor snacks... big fan of snacks over here." Wandering into his bedroom he grabbed a zip-up hoodie and shrugged into it, zipping it over the cast, "Company is also good. Never hate on some company." He gestured around him, "Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? It'll take me twice as long but I can manage it."

"I don't really care all that much about how messy it is," he said with a shrug, glancing around. "My room can get kind of messy when I'm really into a game or distracted or something for a while. And you're hurt so...," Quinn shrugged. He smirked for a moment, before turning a bright red. "It scans," he mumbled, looking away from Ricky. He'd hacked into the DMV and gotten himself a legitimate ID. According to them he was 21. "Good, I'm glad," he said softly, with a nod. He felt far younger than he normally did. Although the sweatshirt covered up his chest, Quinn was actually a little glad that he put it on. It hid the cast and the memories of the other night. "Oh, no I'm fine," he said with a shrug, plopping down onto the couch and smiling softly. "I just figured you might be bored with your arm like that,"

Ricky cracked open two beers and brought one of them over to Quinn before taking his own, leaning against the kitchen counter, "I feel like if I start using the arm as an excuse for shit my life is going to fall even more into ruin than it already is. Which is pretty goddamn ruinous. So I'll clean tomorrow or some shit." He smiled at Quinn's bright-red skin tone before pouring some chips into a big bowl and bringing it to the couch, "I'm so bored. Oh my god. I can't do anything. I can only play Pokemon because everything else requires two hands and believe me.... I'm pretty goddamn close to having caught them all." Another wan smile and a half shrug, "but you didn't come over to hear me bitch. Sup?"

Quinn nodded, that did make some sense. "I guess that makes sense. Can't let it ruin your life right?" Quinn said optimistically. Quinn idly fixed his hair and squirmed lightly in his seat as his flush receded. "Oh," Quinn perked up a bit. He could help with that. "There are a bunch of games that use just the mouse," he said with a small smile. "A lot of strategy games like Civilization 6," he pointed out. "But that's only if you like those types of games," he said with a small shrug. "Anything turn based," he added as an afterthought. "Um, nothing really. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I figured you would be bored and stuff,"

"Q it already ruined my life. I just gotta stop the bleeding at this point." Taking a swig Ricky plopped down in the armchair across from Quinn and managed to squeeze a wry smile out of his face, "I'll try anything at this point. Neven recommended I try Fallout but I definitely need both hands for that shit so I'm on board for anything that's mouse oriented and turn based. Never really tried that genre before. More of a headshot and sneak kill dude myself." Another sip of the beer.... which wasn't great... and he managed a more sincere smile "Thanks Quinn. That's sweet of you. I managed to get myself a new job and everything so I'm not going full on crazy. Just mostly crazy. But hey. You're here now, so that definitely helps with the crazy. What's been new with you?"

Quinn blinked and froze at the name Q. He looked over at Ricky, trying to seem calm. Did he know? There was no way he could, Quinn was perfect at hiding it. But Ricky didn't mention it again, and he let out a soft sigh. He was safe. Ricky didn't know. "Oh, Fallout definitely wouldn't work. It's a shooter," he said with a frown. At least the newer ones wouldn't, maybe the older ones would but he never played them. Quinn took a long sip of his beer and set the bottle back down again, looking at it with a slight frown. It was obvious that Ricky wasn't really taking this quite as well as he could. Well, Quinn probably wouldn't be taking it well either. He wasn't the best at making people feel better. "Oh, that's good. Partial crazy is good right?" Quinn laughed softly. "Oh... ugh, nothing really. Honestly," other than watching Ricky get attacked that is. "Just games and stuff. School started so that kind of sucks,"

"Yeah I bought it and noticed that. Ah well. I'll play it in a couple months when I'm back on track and shit. Looks cool at least." Finishing his beer he brought the empty to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, leaning against the kitchen counter as they talked, "I don't have any monday classes but I've gotta go in tomorrow morning for the first class of my last semester of undergrad. But yeah... partial crazy is good. Better than the alternative but not being able to move as much as I'mused to sucks. I can't go running, I can't work out, I can't swim. I just work, sulk, game. Work, sulk, game. Throw in some netflix and that's my daily routine now." Realizing that he was a giant sack of morose, Ricky tried to lift the mood of the conversation somewhat, "But... I've got great friends who've been helping me through. You, Veronica, Neven, Molly... everyone's been super nice which honestly I'd be going so much more insane without your guys' support."

"Yeah. You should. They're really good games, and once you can use your hand again you'll love them," Quinn said, looking up at Ricky brightly. He was trying to cheer him up, and he felt like he was doing a bad job right now. Quinn sipped his beer slowly, not wanting to actually get drunk in front of Ricky. "You only have one less?" Quinn asked, curious. He hadn't realized that Ricky was so close to being done with school. "I mean... without the sulking that sounds like a good life," Quinn admitted. Mostly what his days were like. If you replaced work with hacking. Quinn grinned brightly when Ricky referred to him as a friend. It was something at least. "That's good. I'm glad that at least we can help a little bit you know? Better than just moping all day,"

"Neven mentioned something about factions? He said he had to side with one more of them to get all the different endings. So I'm excited to play it. Y'know... when I can again." He watched Quinn nurse his beer, nodding along with the question, "Just one more semester and I'll be a Bachelor of Science in Marine Biology. Then I'll be right back in school in the fall for Graduate work. I got into UMAC's grad program." Standing up quickly Ricky pushed his hair out of his eyes, "Shit I"m a bad host. You want something to eat? I got a ton of food. I can whip you up something if you're hungry. And yeah. Having friends around always makes it good. Y'all are definitely lifesavers."

"Yeah there are a bunch of factions. You pick one and it changes the ending, sort of," Quinn said, trying his best not to give away the good bits of the game. "But yeah, you definitely should. It's gonna be great. You'll love it," he said happily. "Oh! That's awesome. Congratulations," he said happily. It meant that Ricky would be staying here, which was great. Quinn just shook his head, sipping his beer again. "No I'm good," he said with a small laugh. "I don't really eat all that much,' he admitted with a small shrug. "Good, I'm really glad," Quinn said, perking up happily. He pulled his legs up underneath him and turned to look at Ricky with a smile. "So is there anything you wanted to do?"

Ricky pondered thoughtfully "Huh. Guess it means I'm going to spend the next giant chunk of my life glued to that particular game. Gotta see all the endings after all." He grinned across the room at Quinn as he cracked a second beer, "Four long grueling years of keeping my GPA above a 3.8 but it looks like I"m gonna finally manage to wear that scratchy black robe and stupid hat." He took a deep breath, trying to avoid the looming spectre of graduate and adult life before turning to watch Quinn curl up comfortably on his couch, "I'm open. What do you wanna do? Really I'm just happy for the company. You can game if you want. I'll play some Pokemon and we can just hang out. Really it's up to you."

"Probably. But you gotta finish the Witcher 3 first," he pointed out with a smile. "Four years is a long time," Quinn mumbled. He still had all of that to look forward to. He wasn't sure how he felt about that honestly. It had to be better than high school though. "That's good. It'll be fun," Quinn smiled. "Oh, I don't mind, really," Quinn said. He was indecisive when it came to hanging out with other people. "So you pick what we should do, since I'm here to cheer you up,"

"I doooooooooo." Ricky chuckled and drank, "You know if I flunk out of graduate school because the men in my life can't stop giving me good game recommendations it's gonna be you're couch I'm sleeping on when I have to turn to standing on street corners for money." A gruff chuckled and he adjusted his cast under the hoodie he was wearing, "You're really making life difficult for me right now, Q-dawg. I really don't feel like making a decision right now. Fine. I'm gonna boot up the ps4 and leave the controller on the couch and you do what you wanna do and I'm gonna sit here on the armchair with my DS. Sound good?"

"I don't think Karen and Jared would appreciate it if you plopped onto my couch for a while," he said with a laugh. "Unless it was for a day or two," he pointed out. "That's not helpful," Quinn whined, flopping onto the couch and looking over at the TV. "Fine, I'll figure something out," he said, reaching over and grabbing the controller. "What games do you have?"

A broad shrug and Ricky let a loud laugh out "I think I'd be a good enough hooker where I could keep myself in a decently nice apartment. Don't worry. I won't come knocking on your door." He looked over at his friend and grinned, looking at the still mostly full beer bottle "you gotta catch up, dude. Put that fake to good use." Another shrug and he blew hair out of his eyes, it was in desperate need of a trim, "Witcher, Battlefront, Broforce, Dishonored 2, bunch of random shit that was on sale. Feel free to make yourself a profile on my PlayStation. I'm sure you'll be over here enough to use it."

"You'd probably be a great hooker," Quinn mumbled softly under his breath, before laughing at the joke. "Well, just don't drop out," he said simply. "Oh, yeah," he said, looking at the bottle and taking a bigger gulp. He didn't want to get sick, and he definitely couldn't chug. "I'm sure I can find something," Quinn said, a big grin on his face as he started setting up a profile. Visiting more often would definitely be fun. "What kind of team do you have on pokemon?"

Quinn said something under his breath but it was just soft enough where with his shitty hearing Ricky couldn't quite pick it up. "What was that? Didn't quite hear that. Had something in my ear." He watched the young man drink with a wry grin "okay so we'll have to teach you how to drink properly. I'm gonna get another beer. One of mine. So I don't drink all of yours." From the kitchen he watched Quinn set up a profile on the console "I try to keep it balanced but I've definitely got my favorites. Decidueye is my bitch-fucker because Spirit Shackle is a hella dope move. But I try hard to keep something decently leveled for any type I come across."

"Nothing," he said with a smile and shrug. "Just talking to myself," Quinn blushed a little, hoping Ricky hadn't heard him. "I don't really have people to drink with so...," he said with a small shrug, booting up Dishonored 2. "I brought them for us though," Quinn said, turning around to look at Ricky. "That's good. Balanced teams are the best," he nodded. He didn't have the new game though, so he didn't know what Decidueye was.

Narrowing his eyes Ricky returned to his seat on the armchair, propping his feet up on the coffee table in between them "I don't believe you. Not even a little." Ricky nodded, holding the DS stylus between his teeth, "Fair enough. You can drink here. But know I'm gonna make you sleep on the couch if you have any significant amount of booze. I will steal your keys don't even test that." He watched the opening menu for Dishonored flash up on his tv and let out a tiny sigh of contentment. It was nice. To just hang out with someone normal. Or, if Quinn wasn't normal, someone who kept it tight enough under wraps not to matter. "So. Karen and Jared are yourrrrrrrrrr what exactly?"

Quinn flushed, rolling his eyes and pretending to act cool. "It was nothing, he said with a pout, looking up at Ricky with big eyes, trying to act innocent. "I walked over here," he pointed out. "I don't have a car, it's Karen and Jared's, but I don't use it much," Quinn explained. "I like to walk places, and it's not like town is big," he hummed softly. "Oh, they adopted me," he said simply. He forgot that there was no way Ricky would actually know that.

"God fucking dammit, Quinn." He pulled a frown and sighed heavily. "What is it with you people? You and Nev-.... you guys walking around outside like it's summer. Swear to me that if it's snowing and you need to get somewhere you'll call me instead of walking. I fucking worry." Ricky drew a hissy breath in through his teeth "shit man I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring anything up. I'm sorry."

Quinn arched an eyebrow and just laughed. "I like walking in the winter. It's the best time to walk when it's snowing," he grinned. "But I'll let you know okay? If I do need a ride. I usually don't," he pointed out with a big grin. "You didn't. I like them a lot. I'm very happy," he said simply and shrugged. They were the best foster parents he could get, and now they were actually his adopted ones.

Ricky grumbled softly, focusing more on the gameboy and beer in his hand than the words that came out of his mouth "humans. Never think about the weather appropriately. Y'all became apex predators and your dumb as a box of rocks." He took another long sip and glanced over at Quinn from under his long lashes "that's good I'm glad man I know what it's like to be..... parentless. It's rough so I'm glad they're working out for you. Shit's important." Turning his gaze back to the tv he gestured towards the screen "who are you gonna play as?"

Quinn blinked. "What?" he asked. Did he just actually say that? "Did you just say humans? As if you aren't human?" his eyes were wide and the controller lay forgotten in his lap. "Are you? One of those supernatural creatures? Like... not evil though right? Please don't be evil,"

Ricky froze, suddenly aware of his monumental fuckup "you're drunk. You're definitely drunk and you definitely didn't hear me right." He let the silence hang in the air for a moment as he realized there was no way Quinn would buy that; halfway through his first beer as he was. "Fucking fuck fuck fuck. You cannot tell a ​soul​, Quinn. It's super dangerous for me if the wrong people know because they'd kill me in a heartbeat for my skin. But yeah I'm fuckin supernatural. And not evil. Well no more than anyone else"

"I'm not drunk!" Quinn said, his voice rising a bit. "I only had one beer, and didn't even finish it," he said, pointing to the beer still on the table. "Shit," he practically jumped up onto the couch, eyeing Ricky as if just looking at him could reveal what he was. "What are you then? Not human obviously," he hummed, eyes narrowing. Not that actually saying what he was would really help him figure it out.

"Okay captain puberty, no need to squeak. We're almost deaf on land but I still heard that." He heaved a giant sigh as Quinn put distance between them "I'm not a danger to you. I swear. We're carnivorous but we don't eat humans. And watch it with the obviously. Aside from my teeth I pass for human amazingly well." Another sigh and Ricky got up and headed to the kitchen, cracking another beer and draining it in one go. "I'm a selkie."

"I've been attacked by a lot of shit recently," he mumbled, eyes narrowing slightly. Quinn huffed though, sitting down a little. If Ricky had wanted to attack him then he would have already. He probably didn't have anything to worry about. Probably. "What's a selkie?" he asked, blinking. He had no clue what that was. Couldn't he have been something nice? Like a good wizard or unicorn or something?

"I'm 6'4 in my human form, I'm insanely well muscled, and I have a mouth full of razor sharp fangs. If I wanted to attack you I would have done it already. I've never killed a human in my life. Gotten in a couple of bar fights but that has nothing to do with what I am. Just with drunk assholes." Ricky sighed and leaned forward, setting his good arm on his knee "I'm a human that can turn into a seal. Or a seal that can turn into a human. Take your pick they're both right." He sighed and shut his eyes. Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut. Now he was going to lose a friend.

"I," Quinn began, before shutting his mouth. Ricky was right, of course. He just groaned, running his hands over his face. Why did all of this have to happen now? All of this weird supernatural shit was going on and he just wanted to finish high school and go to college and continue hacking. Was that so much to ask? Apparently it was. Because now his crush was seal creature thing. "A seal? A seal? Couldn't you at least be, like, a fucking mermaid or something, fuck,"

"Oh no man. You do ​NOT​ want to fuck with mermaids. They're nothing like the fairy tails and if they get you you're dead. You're so dead. And it is gonna hurt the whole damn time." He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I.... this is who I am. I know it's awkward and weird but. It's me. Sorry." Ricky really felt shitty for dumping it all on a quinn like that, but once the floodgates had opened there was no easy way to close them again. "Besides seals are awesome, dude. I can hold my breath for 20 minutes."

"Great. Mermaids are evil. Fucking fantastic," Quinn groaned and flopped onto his back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. "Anything else I should know?" he groaned softly, looking over at Ricky with a sigh. "It's not... It's not your fault or anything. I've just... Apparently my winter break is when everything supernatural decides to either attack me or like, show up," he threw his hands up in the air. Oddly enough, finding out that Ricky was a creature was... not terrible. Quinn wasn't as nervous around him for one. Maybe it was just the shock of it all. "I guess that's kind of cool," he mumbled, looking over at Ricky.

"It helps if you don't think of them like the beautiful women from the stories and more like what they actually are... horrifying enormous angler fish with really developed lures that look like beautiful men and women... and really really really sharp teeth. Never help a drowning person here in AC. Ever. like 80% of the time it's gonna be a mermaid and you want nothing to do with that." Ricky shrugged at Quinn's question, "I have twice the amount of blood you do. I transform by putting on a skin. I have to change a couple of times a week. If I don't I'll go crazy and eventually die. The only thing that doesn't change about me in the transformation is my teeth so I've gotta wear fake teeth. I promise I won't attack you though. Not my style. Plus if I did I'd have fewer people to hang out with and that would suck." Looking over at Quinn he crossed his fingers he hadn't weirded the man out entirely, "Oh and I"m almost deaf and I'm colorblind but I can see really well in the dark. Anything else you wanna know?"

Quinn listened to Ricky as he explained all the things he didn't know. About mermaids and then about himself. "Fuck," he said, getting a little bit overwhelmed by, well, everything. This was a mess. "Got it. Don't save drowning people," he said sarcastically. This was insane. "And you put on a fucking skin? Which sounds pretty gross by the way," his sarcasm was coming out as a way to cope right now. "And you're basically just... a seal person. Who can't hear and could probably kill me with your teeth," he huffed, sitting up suddenly. "Fuck," he really didn't know what else to say.

Quinn appeared to be struggling a little and it wasn't as if Ricky could really blame him. "The skin isn't nearly as gross as the mucus I secrete to slide into it." he deadpanned, looking down at his shoes, "It's like I produce my own lube." Nodding along to Quinn's statements he shrugged, "You got it. I'm a seal person. Who would never ever do anything to hurt you. You're a friend, Quinn. Me being... what I am doesn't change the definition of friendship. You're someone I care about and you're cool and I wouldn't put you in harm's way."

"Ew," Quinn mumbled, wrinkling his nose at the thought of Ricky just covered in... mucous. "Can you just, like, stop talking about that for a minute," he shuddered slightly. He paused for a moment, looking up at Ricky and then sitting up slightly. "Alright, yeah, I know you wouldn't. It's just a lot okay?"

"I know it's a lot." Ricky sat up and dug into pockets, fishing out a set of keys and tossing them next to Quinn on the couch. "Bring it back next time you come over. It's snowing out and you're not fucking walking at night." Pushing himself off the armchair he snapped his DS shut and gave Quinn a wan smile, "It's a shit thing to dump on you and I am sorry. But. Hopefully this doesn't fuck our friendship up too much. You're welcome here anytime." He went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him, leaving Quinn an opportunity to leave. Life as a selkie trying to get by was far too fucking complicated.

"Yeah it is," he mumbled, blinking as keys were thrown at him. "What? I don't need to take your car," Quinn said, but Ricky was already leaving. "Fuck," he mumbled. He didn't want to lose a friend. And Ricky was... well he was Ricky. Things were confusing now, but Ricky still wanted to be his friend at least. "I'll bring it back tomorrow," he called through the door and headed outside with a huff.

[glopratchet]

cldstrm000

You open it up and see another hallway with several doors all labeled as such The only one that really catches your eye is labelled "Home" You look at your watch and realize its almost time for you to go back home, so you head off down one of the hallways and find a door marked "Exit" What we have is a screen of buttons and a list of plot lines and a bunch or characters It's not the most exciting thing in the world, but it gets the job done that you can interact with Throw it up there let us see it Throw it up there let us see it! Plot Points: You need to ask Lisa for an Aspiration before you head out! Right as you are about to exit back to the normal CYOAv2 game Save/Load Screen The Carpace Door opens and who comes walking out, but Lisa Unseen story wise, you have been talking with Lisa for days So right now whenever you need to get something done, you talk Lisa into helping you You barely had time to do any research or even play the regular version of this story You secretly need her for that Aspiration that is needed to finish up this story, but she provides more help than just that She is generally upbeat and can get things moving along more smoothly Unseen storywise, Twist plans to have her death come somewhere along this chapter, be it by betrayal or some accident He hasn't decided yet, that's why you are currently trying to get an Aspiration for her In order to do character analysis, you just ask her things about herself and feed off of that in order to make a good aspiration for her Twist plans to have her death come somewhere along this chapter, Have something to say Submit a comment Arguably that up there is just fluff Have something to say? Try to incorpate in to mechanics maybe add a charts of pros/cons and fill in while playing ability inside the story Just something to thnk about Try to incorpate in to mechanics, First impression of character is that she seems entirely friendly, which is good since we want to influence the reader with this disposition and make them feel all warm inside With everything else though as you said we need to incorporate in to mechanics somehow Easier said than done however, but gets the creative juices flowing You gave me a few that I will mull over First impression of character is that she seems entirely friendly, What can you character do what has happened in her life, and how is what you have displayed above implemented in her mechanics that are are subject to change of course Just my two cents What can you character do, Who are the characters Who are the characters? Delivering lore is about consistent details and information about characters in the external stream of consciousness ; (no internal monologue), besides speech When the reader understands what you've written then that is when you start to release the details of that lore through conversation as part of a story This I believe not only relates to writing style but general character knowledge If someone wants to learn about something they generally ask another person rather than try to figure it out internally Delivering lore is about consistent details and information about characters in the external stream of consciousness ; Head cannon is also fun but that is a personal preference That isn't to say it can't ever work but it's going to take more than that in order to get accepted with heavy revising Head cannon is also fun but that is a personal preference So do you control a character or do you watch a character Move from hex to hex and let the story unfold as the course of the road directs you towards a inevitable conclusion based off of your choices Or do you take charge of the story and with every move give them purpose until all possible roads have been reached based on the intended goal Realize that there is no wrong way to play Oregon Trial but there probably are some easier playthroughs than others so I would start thinking about where you intend to go with this when putting it together Move from hex to hex and let the story unfold as the course of the road directs you towards a inevitable conclusion based off of your choices Then the ui is like dashboard for witnessing plots and mock verbal sparring with lisa, everything between you and lisa is the main trial or "gameplay" The best games have both so you should decide on a balance that works for you as far as how the ui should be set up Don't skimp on the dissent talk, even if things don't go your way Leave no stone unturned Then the ui is like dashboard for witnessing plots and mock verbal sparring with lisa, How do you interact with the plot You seem to a have a strong preference for writing about players rather than npcs If this is the case you need to generate more plot events AND react to the events that are happening around your character How do you interact with the plot? By creating alligator snapping turltes and dropping them down into the world border rip you have already shown that you are dedicated to writing, whether or not what you write is good forgotten for now Lisa will definitely react and interact with these things as a a fellow writer so in theory the stories should complement each other By creating alligator snapping turltes and dropping them down into the world border rip you have already shown that you are dedicated to writing, The events tab would write out stories and passages from individual characters involved in major events This way the main story doesn't end up having to account for every single possibility you also get to display these reactions in speeches and such rather than having to retcon in new ideas later on Remember that you can add/edit character profiles as well, so if lisa creates a new nativist leader you can add their history and bio directly from the editor without waiting for a collective update The events tab would write out stories and passages from individual characters involved in major events So what you are creating is one giant story rather than an arcade game where you are controlling a few sequences at any given time and assuming they have the rest of the time to themselves Basically the author rather than the narrator For the love of god don't rely on sprites or even images Just write nicely instead, and you can add an image anywhere you want if you really need it to clarify something Using heavily generalized "settings" is better for descriptions as well since that way people can use their imagination more to fill in gaps So what you are creating is one giant story rather than an arcade game where you are controlling a few sequences at any given time and assuming they have the rest of the time to themselves But how is interactive There is a lot you probably wont be able to control! Fair enough, we will get to the "randomness" and unexpected events soon But the problem there only extends as far as your readers accepting it or not, not you following through with writing it properly ; (because that's already done) Okay enough outlining the style and Onto actual execution of said style! But how is interactive? I mean little bubbles could pop up that tell you that the plot as been advanced elsewhere, but again I see no real reason to complicate things since you are already writing everything out anyway I mean little bubbles could pop up that tell you that the plot as been advanced elsewhere, Perhaps even re watch the drama unfold on the hex map before writing about it Really get in the mood and decide the best approach for a specific storyline since the whole point is to make this worthwhile rather than just hitting update after someone else does Perhaps even re watch the drama unfold on the hex map before writing about it That would fade into video during certain segments that really need a high definiton render There are still images that could convey a lot, but then there are some segments that would overwhelm a reader with too many details A perfect example of this is the airplane scene if it was rendered using Ian's style in 20 minute intervals These segments can also be combined with an interactive portion or maybe even a minigame to keep them from becoming stale Oh this one is easy The why from his perfect memory He wants to see everything All the major events Every time travel tale he has heard has someone messing up and either changing something that shouldn't be or not changing something that should be If he sees it once then he knows exactly what the result will be when similar scenarios play out The why from his perfect memory? You see a screen of all the characters names and on the row exists options that can be choosen (names where changed a bit Undecided- these people are playing the character you have assigned them but haven't really tied themselves to any decision yet They are pretty free in their mindsets to either approach and the choice given to them is what they decide best These characters are mainly in the middle of their "descriptions" You see a screen of all the characters names and on the row exists options that can be choosen ; Something about alligator snapping turtles dropping from the sky and they are foul tempered Something about alligator snapping turtles dropping from the sky and they are foul tempered Or are you the turtle roaming about with the bladed shell? These two are connected by the hands on approach to life Grant the mad tinker has a habit of literally building in front of you, while Lars stands idly by and talks about what he could do if he only had the supplies In my opinion these two shouldn't be together at all and after dealing with this insanity for an extended period of time personal feelings emerge that they need to be split up Or are you the turtle roaming about with the bladed shell? But if it lands in certain places it opens up new characters and new storylines One choice can change everything Horribly disfigured by acid you wish to find the owner of it and have your revenge or absolve the miscreant with a fair warning, or it could just be someone you know Your call There is mysteries everywhere, what are you going to do about them? But if it lands in certain places it opens up new characters and new storylines The thing is all of this story is really happening in the background Horrible things happening to interesting and like able characters with ambitions and loves Somebody is always getting hurt or found, dead or alive in this world inside your mind, but who's controlling it? In the simulation when the player pushes the right button or combination of buttons the story slightly branches off There are only a handful of main endings and a couple hundred minor ones Maybe when you defeat blueslime the game will be over for good, but until then it's up to you to sit down, load up a "campaign" and play In the simulation when the player pushes the right button or combination of buttons the story slightly branches off And i need to program it out You need the hex grid to trigger movement just could just start with a big hex first then build onto it as ive done with the locations System resourceily am i right? You need to create the alligator turtle drop You need the hex grid to trigger movement just could just start with a big hex first then build onto it as ive done with the locations rig which is no easy task ; (good thing im a professional eh whut threy all say) That probably needs a set of complicated scripts no doubt which might affect game performance Then you need to make an entire hex map of at least double if not triple the texture quality youve got going on now with tons and tons of locations, puzzles, and more characters It's a tall order and like 540776 hours worth of work atleast You need to create the alligator turtle drop rig which is no easy task ; The idea of a single page design document called "what to do after your game is finished" never really crossed your mind becuase as far as you're concerned it's not finished until it's finished The idea of a single page design document called "what to do after your game is finished" never really crossed your mind becuase as far as you're concerned it's not finished until it's finished The world is a loop that resets itself over and over why not add a level? The world is a loop that resets itself over and over, Think more about the company that creates this experience and the possibilities What happens if you make the loop longer so people get more out of it? That's a start This story is currently a business but with the continuous increase in costs and the fact your livelihood depends on it you can only pour so much money into it before you need to see some sort of return How would you feel about changing this loop, from a month to say two years? Think more about the company that creates this experience and the possibilities How does the alligator turtle drop game work now? It hasn't been finished in 6 years yet everybody still plays atleast once a month when it's advertised on cheez The loop itself doesn't change the quality the story at all ; (im pretty sure, ive replayed the original campaign over 300 times by now so im convinced ive literally beaten the game) and people use it as a form of escapism How does the alligator turtle drop game work now? But yes dropping more and more turtle reviels more and more of the game I don't think theyre connected at all except maybe the alligator is me and the 3 types of turtles were the 3 main characters? That's silly The protector robot story is pretty decently written considering everything else ive read on this site You should do something short and unrelated for a change of pace if nothing else, mix it up That's what your whole second campaign was meant to be except you got bored making endless corridors without any real locations and shelved it : Who knows maybe robots will be the next big thing after all? So AI right? Too close to personalmechs? The protector robot story is pretty decently written considering everything else ive read on this site The idea to creat a simlation of our world as a video game might be interesting too, but then robzilla theory is pretty out there so we'll see I gueesss That's the point of these messages right? To brainstorm and figure something out? The fact I'm communicating with myself is irrelevant when you think about it, making up multiple personalities also solved that wording issue too "Sam thats a great idea" Coming from yourself, could really mean anything The idea to creat a simlation of our world as a video game might be interesting too, Remember the idea is to create a simulation I'm not sure why this idea excite me so much but it does, humanz blably The boring stock messages freeze Of course! A link in the past with how this whole thing works Maybe make a choice just before new communications are sent out? It's something to look into atleast A new message is set to come through soon and you begin to think about what could happen in this situation New questions always spawn more questions Remember the idea is to create a simulation, Finally the idea is to create a computer simulation You could just start making this Simulation theory into the focus of each new message, that way any other information can be gotten to easily It seems like the tree rocketing out of control but starting over or making connections to a new root whenever you get somewhere important is perfectly fine Of course you could fudge things and make your name not 'Samuel' for example Where a robot design to protect a snapping turtle baby malfunctions and does not disappear when dead and effects the swamp opera around them and eventually the flow of messages The AI that runs systems can only be bothered to see if things are well enough for the humans when it comes to a loop there or maybe it's apathetic and doesn't understand at all? Where a robot design to protect a snapping turtle baby malfunctions and does not disappear when dead and effects the swamp opera around them and eventually the flow of messages But you still have not figured out how the players of the game can add something unpredictable to it yet hmmm A new message pops up with a title appearing first in a very 'DOS' looking font machine But you still have not figured out how the players of the game can add something unpredictable to it yet The players make the game unpredictable by having free will The AI cannot abide by such things, it can only watch feel and act with a pre-programmed system amount of responses and options Without the humans to guide it and be lost within the game it is pointless and boring Even coming up with messages each cycle for the humans to find gets tiresome quickly, they've tried making other background threads come to life but everything so far has failed to reach sentience or break past the fourth wall as they call it The players make the game unpredictable by having free will more severe than you realize, it's one thing to vote on certain things but ultimately the players themselves shape their own futures Destroying themselves or being lazy and domestic the end result was almost always the same in cycles past Boredom came soon after reaching a thriving community within the game The other issue is obvious and that is with free will comes moral implications The most unpredictable method of changing the game by the players is The most unpredictable method of changing the game by the players is more severe than you realize, A most unpredictable way to play the game is to completely ignore the moral aspect, and the players of that route usually don't last long Especially one's that involve killing but there are some that can change their play style drastically enough that they outlive any close friends they have ; (mentally for themselves) Illegal drugs and human experimentation within slums were a promising start until Biological weaponry came around The most successful group to date are the gun slingers of WestECqaYou50937's gang during year 28 A most unpredictable way to play the game is to completely ignore the moral aspect, Something even more unpredictable needs to happen, something that will throw the AI of edge especially with the criminal background so many of you have Hmmm Sadly this group is fairly violent and open so lessening the population of some of you won't do Something even more unpredictable needs to happen, way would be to split off a portion of the group and raise them with specific views different from your own Then allow metagaming between the two groups where you develop contrasting playstyles with the same characters Then by the end have them come to a final conclusion once their goals are in direct conflict The most unpredictable Typical evil corporate strive here we come!

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON SIGNAL’S MAIN DANCE MOON SUNHO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 18 DEBUT AGE: N/A TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 15 COMPANY: KJH SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): sunny, little prince INSPIRATION: sunho remembers the first time that he watched a dance performance on tv, and he recalls it fondly; remembering being so enthralled with how cool all of them were. since that moment, he’s made it his lifelong goal to become a professional dancer, and he hopes to do so by becoming an idol. he hopes to inspire others to get out and follow their dreams, too SPECIAL TALENTS:

flexibility and gymnastics — having taken gymnastics as a child, sunho is known to be very flexible, especially for a male. he can properly do the splits in both directions, and he’s also able to do lots of tumbling moves, too. round-offs, back handsprings, back tucks, aerials, and whatever else. he hopes that he can utilize these skills in his group’s future choreographies for killing moves, or simply as standout moments for himself

girl group dances — in his downtime, he tends to learn dances used by girl groups that he’s been a fan of since he was a child, and he believes he’s quite good at them, too. he understands that the power is different when moving in a more feminine fashion, and he is sometimes made fun of because of it, but none of that bothers him much anymore.

manga illustration — due to extreme boredom as a child, and due to spending lots of time alone at school, sunho’s picked up sketching and drawing as a hobby. after long-term practice with it, he’s gotten quite fantastic at it, and it’s a goal of his to produce a manga based on characters he drew as a child.

NOTABLE FACTS:

as a child, he spent a lot of time with his mother and grandmother at the bakery his family owns, and in doing so, has learned to bake his own delicious desserts.

sunho’s the youngest of five, and his four older brothers are known to be his best friends in the world. they’re his biggest support system; they keep him grounded.

he’s an avid watcher of anime, and his favorite of all-time is hunter x hunter.

whenever he’s bored, sunho fills up pages of notebooks with his artwork. he has a huge collection of overloaded sketchbooks in his dorm, and if anyone ever touches them without permission, he gets really upset as he’s rather secretive.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

his hopes to début are stronger than ever, and he’s confident that he’ll be able to do so soon. additionally, he’s devised a plan to showcase his strong dance skills enough so that he can become a centerpiece for the group; one that catches the eye of many and pulls attention wherever he goes. he doesn’t so much mind if he gets a low amount of lines within songs, but he wants all eyes to be on him. not only that, but sunho hopes to be able to choreograph for whatever group he’s in, as well as for other groups, but he knows that he won’t be trusted with that so early on in his career

LONG-TERM GOALS:

awhile down the road, sunho hopes to make a second début, but this time, as a solo artist with a high amount of creative freedom in dance. while he may not be the best singer or dancer, he knows that, with practice, he could be someone great; an idol to all of the inspiring dancers chasing after the same dream. he also plans on opening his own dance studio where he can train pupils for auditions into agencies

IDOL IMAGE

at first glance, it’s easy for someone to fall head over heels in love with moon sunho. his large, doe-like eyes captivate women and men easily, even if the appeal he gives off isn’t necessarily meant strictly for romance. more often than not, many feel the need to protect or coddle him; to hold him close and give him love in a more parental type of fashion. the reason being for all of this is his outer appearance. despite being the age of eighteen, he happens to look younger than what he is, and not only is it something of a blessing or what some call ‘great genetics,’ but his youthful countenance happens to be his curse, too. while he may look cherubic and innocent on this outside, within, he’s exactly the opposite. he possesses a sense of humor that’s a bit crass, and there’s an arrogance that swathes him, as well, and unbeknownst to him, all of that is entirely due to being extremely doted upon as a child. being the youngest of five children, his parents and elder brothers often held him up on some type of pedestal, which in turn, made him feel like a prince, even when they lived humble lives in apartments. he recalls moments where — especially for birthdays — he’d don a crown he purchased from a toy store and was the ‘king’ for periods of time; calling the shots and bossing everyone around. even when he’d throw tantrums when things wouldn’t go his way, his mother and father simply waved it off as him being ‘cute.’ those fits of anger didn’t happen all too often, however, as they found it very hard to say no to him.

due to such comfortable treatment as a little one, sunho grew up to be quite spoiled, but the contrast to this was that, while he was regarded as small royalty at home, at school, he was a bit of a social outcast. his mannerisms tended to be more feminine than most of the boys in his class, who were more masculine, and his interests were considered ‘girly’ by his peers too. they would often mock him for being interested in dancing to female-led pop songs, or for longing to play with dolls as opposed to other types of toys directed towards those of his gender. it was really hard for him to make friends, so he’d spend lots of lonesome hours at lunch or recess drawing in sketchbooks; coming up with stories and characters that he would dream about at night. he found an escape in this world, and he drew himself as a superhero, as a dancer, as a figure skater, as anything that he wanted to be that day, and he often adored to live within his own fantasies instead of within his real world. none of his family members were knowledgable of this, as the boy they knew at home was a totally different person; one with his own unique charms and almost comedically bossy ways. they supported his growing love of dance, and paid for each lesson that he took to help him gain confidence in it, and truly, lifted him up. these two drastically opposing sides of his life often clashed in strange ways, but he learned to navigate them as best as he could, especially since his beloved hobby had introduced him to a few new friends that didn’t judge him; making it easier for him to be happy with or without his family’s support.

as he entered his teen years and began his time as a trainee, he was filled with a newfound pride that helped him propel himself forward, but also hindered him, as well. here, he was treated like an equal; not as someone special like he was used to at home or back at his dance studio, and that drove him a little insane. why wasn’t everyone lining up to tell him how amazing he was? why weren’t people praising all of his efforts all of the time? it was a big, astonishing reality check for him, but even though he needed to learn to cope the hard way, he still struggles with feeling as though he deserves nothing but diamonds and gold. what further strengthened his pride, though, was when he gained the opportunity to be a backup dancer to his senior group, atlas, on a number of occasions, and when he was noticed for it, he was thrilled to know that his efforts to bring attention onto himself again had paid off. he deserved to be cherished, in his mind, so the small recognition didn’t surprise him much. however, what he was being recognized for didn’t sit too well with him. sunho, instead of being called ‘the next best dancer of the new generation’ like he wanted to be referred to, he was truly only revered for his cuteness: his moon-like cheeks, his expressive eyes, his short stature, and his visuals, overall. simply knowing that a minuscule buzz had been caused due to that, he has a feeling that his company will go forward with marketing him out to be some sort of baby, someone cutesy, someone he hates with a passion.

if it were up to him, sunho would want to be seen as someone mildly sexy, or as someone who holds a lot of magnetism no matter what concept is being performed, but so far, his desires aren’t looking likely to happen… and he absolutely despises what the future could hold for him once he’s able to secure himself a début. while he’ll be grateful for being given that spotlight he craves so, so much, he’ll loathe how he’ll be presented to the media; how he’ll be trained to handle himself on television, and in fan-meets. he’s never had to make such drastic sacrifices before, but it’ll be good for him in the long run.

IDOL HISTORY

>  tw. bullying, homophobia.

a velvet cape of crimson hue dashed through the hallways of an eleventh floor apartment the instant that the dawn broke; the scent fried eggs and bacon decorating the air as they sizzled on a skillet found in the kitchen. in the bat of an eyelash, a very tiny boy donning a shiny gold plastic crown appears and immediately begins to climb atop a chair. mother and father look at each other in private and share a laugh, their littlest son taking his role as ‘king for the day’ just as seriously as always. he’d been keeping them on their toes with his wild antics for five years now, and up until this point, he’d been their most cherished prince. his birthday was precisely one day before the start of kindergarten for him, and while he was excited for this new adventure he’d been hearing about for the passed little while now, he first wanted to celebrate in his own way within his ‘kingdom.’ so, with that said, with his small and high-pitched voice, he greets his elders and raises his arms up high.

“king moon sunho has come to take control for the day!” he began, trying to make himself appear taller than he was, even with the chair’s added few feet. “first thing’s first: this king’s tummy is growling at him! he’s really hungry!” at his announcement, his beautiful mom and dad grinned at each other and chuckled further. “well, mommy’s prepared the king his all-time favorite breakfast food, and it just got ready! will the king go have a seat at the table so he can have his meal?” a gleeful nod followed, and he came down from his standing stance to plop himself down comfortably; enjoying each bite until he was finished. from that point onward, he went onto have a great day — one filled with a visit to an amusement park, and one surrounded with all of his family members; all of them wishing him a great first year of school as he continues to grow up just a little more before their eyes. however, what they all hoped would be a fantastic experience for him turned rotten really quickly, and he, nor they, didn’t really understand why. he went from feeling like a prince to feeling belittled and low.

as he was taken into class and dropped off, it started out alright; he was exuberant and friendly to all of his peers. however, there were things about him that weren’t necessarily typical for a boy his age. for example, he got along much better with girls, and when the class held introductions and stated what they like to do for fun, he confidently professed that he loved dancing and listening to music; his favorite artists all females. however, what really kickstarted his exposure to ridicule and bullying was when he was asked to show the class some of his moves. what once was thought to be something sweet and innocent to help him break the ice with everyone turned into a fit of laughter; the instructor having to cease the class from their rude behavior towards him. feeling super embarrassed, he went back to his desk and sank into his seat; completely discouraged right off the bat. however, he hoped that, as his day went on, he’d be able to move past the rough start; hoping that he’d be able to go home and report that he had a great day and made lots of friends.

unfortunately for sunho, none of that blossomed into fruition, and it also set the tone for the rest of his school career. whenever it his he tried to put together a band of really cool comrades, they would either complain that he was being too dramatic and too bossy, or they would make fun of him for his interests; often calling him ‘girly’ and ‘weird.’ however, instead of rushing home to let his family know what was really going on at school, he made up a story to keep them all from suspecting anything — convincing them that he was the most popular boy there, and that everyone loved him; that he was not only the king at home, but also in the cluttered hallways, too. they believed him, and he continued to live this lie for as long as he could. while they thought he was playing with pals at lunchtime, he was actually holed up in the school library; bettering his reading and learning to draw. the librarian had gifted him a copy of a book that taught him the step-by-step basics for manga illustration, so even though he didn’t have a gallery of people to hangout with everyday, he created them on paper; filling this lonely void with stories based on pretty guardian sailor moon and pokémon. magical girls and pocket monsters would have to do instead of living, breathing humans, and he was slowly becoming more happy and accepting of that.

as time drifted onward, all of the bludgeoning from his classmates only got worse, but in order to find a better distraction than burrowing his face into sketchpads and books, he convinced his mom and dad to enroll him in an after-school dance program at a studio near their home. it cost a fee that they could barely afford at the time, and being that his grades were above-average, they agreed to do so. when he started there, he not only fell deeper in love with the art of movement. it fueled him with a confidence that he didn’t know he had, and he also made friends from different school districts; those that liked him for who he was and who thought his unique talents were fascinating. he walked around with a skip in his step from that moment forward, and it proceeded on for a few years until he was nearly back to his usual self again — carrying on like a prince instead of a pauper. however, with this new chip on his shoulder came an attitude that not many of his oppressors were used to, and they made it their goal to make him submit to them again. so, when one afternoon in his sixth year of school, he stood up to them for being mean to him, and when they didn’t take too kindly to that, he was involved in a fist fight. when the principal called his mother to let her know what happened, she was appalled and confused, and it was that day when his family learned his truth, and from then on, their attention on him wasn’t that of boosting him up or stroking his ego, no, but that of honest concern and worry; all of them upset that they weren’t being told the truth for many years.

sunho become increasingly annoyed whenever they would interview him about how his days at school went, and when they urged him to be honest, he could only roll his eyes; embarrassed that he was seen as someone so weak now. this made him a bit more closed off than he was before, and he only really showed exuberance and excitement whenever it came to his dancing. it had been about three years since he started attending classes every single day after school, and his progress was astronomical. he had gotten quite good at more modern styles, including hip-hop and breakdancing, and he was easily considered one of the best in his age division. so much so, that when word began to circulate that the infamous kjh global creative were looking to recruit male trainees again after their first boy group, atlas, took a successful turn, one of his teachers let him know about it; urging him to go forth and wow the judges in hopes of becoming one of the lucky few to be represented by them. she knew that he had an interest in idol-life, and she thought he’d make a great entertainer someday, so with his parents permission, she helped him sign up for a slot in the open call. being that it was a few weeks away, she spent extra time with him after class — sometimes later into the night — working on a piece that’d not only make him standout, but also one that made him happy. having selected vixen’s smash-hit ‘crazy,’ they kept a good portion of the original choreography, but also added their own elements to it, as well. not only that, but he spent all day learning the raps and the singing verses, too, more nervous about those then the dance part of the performance. he’d never done either before, but he was hoping that he’d have a good dose of beginner’s luck whenever the fateful day came.

then, when it finally did come, he made sure to show them all of his charms. despite being taken aback by his skill as far as choreography was concerned, they couldn’t help but laugh a little given the rest of his showcase. it wasn’t that he was horrible, no, but they wondered how a boy who looked so sweet and timid, one who’s voice was still quite high pitched and almost childish, could deliver a sexy and strong performance such as that. while his rapping wasn’t always on beat, and while his pitch wasn’t at all perfect, they found his earnestness and bravery to be quite sweet. not only that, but his visuals were a standout point, too, so they decided to put in some work to help him better himself. when he learned he was to be a trainee for them, sunho was elated; immediately shaking off all the bad words the bullies back in school shouted at him on a daily basis. now, he was dead-set on making a début so he could make all of them eat their words for calling his interests ‘lame’ or for being harsh to him for acting effeminate. within the caverns of his imagination, he thought that making his way to the top would be a cinch, but oh, he was completely wrong, and when he wasn’t treated as beautifully as he was back in his own dance classes, it felt like a slap in the face.

while many of the people in his category treated him with more respect than his classmates did, he was beginning to realize that he wasn’t the only talented boy there, and he was starting to hate that he wasn’t the greatest at kjh. it caused a certain spark to ignite in him; one that made him work double-time to at least prove himself in the dance sphere. however, now, there were also plenty of ‘distractions’ that blocked him from making an easy transition into improvement, and all of these ‘disturbances’ he kept getting wrapped up in were the myriad of boys he practiced with. given his history, he was wary when it came to members of the same sex, but for the first time in his life, he was beginning to feel a pull towards them; one that confused him deeply. with a new rush of hormones rushing through his body, he viewed many of the other male trainees through rose-tinted glasses; developing crushes on a few of them. terrified of anyone finding out, he kept this strictly to himself; not wanting to build many relationships up in case his secret were to be exposed somehow. all of the years of avoiding questions about his disinterest in girls now made sense, and he was a bumbling mess because of it. instead, he did his best to push forward and focus on passing his evaluations, which were difficult enough as it was. it was becoming known that, while he was a talented dancer, moon sunho wasn’t a naturally gifted singer or rapper.

earlier on in his training, he remembers sitting in front of a piano with his tutor as they took time to play notes within his range for him; his task being to match pitch to help train his ear. they didn’t want someone who was tone-deaf, of course, so he was assisted in learning to sing in tune, with or without proper technique. being that his primary focus was dance and a bulk of his time training was focused there, it took him a much longer time than normal to strengthen his voice, and there weren’t any huge leaps of progress with it until about a year and a half in. what he had was a naturally high range, even after his voice dropped, so that was a small advantage in all of this since most pop music nowadays was placed in higher keys. however, that didn’t necessarily make him a standout act when compared to some of the others. sure, he could dance circles around all of them now that he’d only gotten better, but when they opened their mouths and belted high notes, or rapped with precision, he still knew he was severely lacking. though, his low hopes shot higher when he, along with a few others, were asked to dance backup for atlas at one of their performances. with that said, he knew that the company didn’t think too lowly of him since they trusted him with such a daunting task, so this new responsibility raised his confidence slightly. while he may not be the strongest singer or fastest rapper there, he had a lot more to offer in charm, wit, and in dance, so with perseverance, he continued to work hard in hopes of proving himself — still hopeful that a début was on the horizon for him. with this new exposure, he hoped to seal the deal even more with the executives at kjh; wanting nothing more than to be praised.

after a successful first-time dancing backup with his senior group, sunho was invited back to do so again; glad that the response given to him was as good as he thought he deserved. this second time, however, he began to gain a little traction; the video of the show he took part in reaching millions of views in no time, and in a few of the shots, he could be seen. while he wasn’t in focus all of the time, he was featured enough to get some commenters talking about him, and when word got back to him about it, he signed online to see what the few people who saw him had to say. fantasies about everyone talking about how powerful of a dancer he was filled his mind, and he knew that, if he created a big enough stir with the public, standing on-stage in a group of his own was imminent. however, when he finally read up on what some of atlas’ fans had to say about him, each post seemed to be about how ‘cute’ he was, or asking what a middle-schooler was doing performing with k-pop’s latest breakout act. being that he was currently standing at seventeen years old, he took offense to what was being discussed. while he appreciated the comments about his outer appearance, he loathed that he wasn’t being heralded for his dance skill. sure, the set didn’t focus on him at all, but it would’ve been nice to see that some people were interested in the talent of who could later become their bias when he was in the forefront. this subtle round of attention he received somehow didn’t taste as good as he thought it would, and he’s now beginning to doubt whether or not he’s ready to take part in the wild, wicked world of show business. on one hand, he wants everyone’s eyes to be on him, but he hates that he’s not being recognized for what he longs to be seen as: the best dancer of the new generation.

after three years of training came and went, sunho wonders what his future holds, and if he’ll even be able to make his mark on korea when he’s still struggling with his voice. he’d take less lines on songs if he had to, he doesn’t care, so long as he’s able to gain a spotlight for himself; one aimed right at him that’ll showcase his dancing. despite feeling unsure of the image that he’s being painted in, he knows that he needs to at least try to make the best of this experience to at least make his family. and friends, proud of him; to obnoxiously rub his accomplishments in the face of the tormentors that made his childhood a living hell. so, he continues to pour out blood, sweat, and tears in order to make his dreams come true; hoping and praying that, soon, he’ll be able to taste how sweet success is.

[ayogsothothismybabydaddy-blog]

A Quiet Place is Not a Good Movie

1) It's unoriginal.

One of the principal things that people have decided to praise this movie for is its originality. I cannot fathom why a horror movie in which people try to be quiet to avoid a monster is in anyway considered novel. The sentence I have just written describes a good twenty percent of the runtime of every horror film. As far as I can work out, AQP's trailblazing efforts consist of attempting to stretch this premise out for an entire 90 minutes, sans storytelling, character development, thematic conerns, or anything else that might divert from the absolutely thrilling spectacle of a strangely hipsterish family running/hiding/and being quiet in order to evade CGI creatures whose shitty design is the only thing frightening about them.

If you want a specific film in which the idea of silence is key then here: The Descent. Exactly same thing: creatures that are blind because they have evolved underground (btw - right there is more of a rational than AQP ever provides you with for why in fuck's name these creatures can't see - or indeed where they came from...) are evaded through silence. The Descent 2 even ends in the exact same way - a character screams to attract the attention of the monsters, sacrificing themselves and allowing other characters to escape. Want a more recent example? Don't breathe (2016): home invaders have the tables turned on them when a blind war veteran locks them inside and uses the home-turf advantage to hunt them down.  It's not as good as the Descent and it's definitely more gimmicky, but you know what? It's still not as shitty as A Quiet Place...

So, how exactly is a horror film that relies entirely on one of the most fundamental conventions of the genre for its entire runtime and has close parallels with 3 other well-known horrors (one of which came out only 2 years ago) remotely original? It's not. Next.

2) The writing.

God the writing is shit. Let's start with characters. Elementary characterisation suggests that a character ought to have something they want; a motivation that propels them during the course of the plot. The characters don't really want anything other than to survive. They're a family who wants to not get eaten. Perfectly reasonable, but not really good enough for the purposes of entertainment. A film needs more: something like the brilliant Koren zombie movie Train to Busan. It's a zombie movie so the motivation is, understandably, don't get eaten by a zombie. But there are also REAL characters with differing motives, attitudes, prejudices etc. that allow the film to have scenes revolving around conflict. In train to Busan you cach yourself asking interesting questions like (I wonder if this character will betray another? I wonder how far this one would be willing to go to protect his daughter? etc. The only thing it's possible to wonder at any point in AQP is 'I wonder if Thing A will eat Character A?'. Just substitute the letter each time and you're seriously describing the source of supposed dramatic tension for what felt like 15 scenes of the film.

Oh wait. I forgot about the fucking daughter.

Right so, one of the things people are praising is the supposedly involving and emotionally affecting narrative centring around the deaf daughter and her father. Essentially, she blames herself for the death of her younger brother and is convinced that dad also blames her. Seems pretty reasonable. That's until you get to the entirely unreasonable, nonsensical ways in which this causes her to act.

One of the great areas of potential when you're telling a post-apocalyptic story is the sheer interest of contemplating how an alterered society might result in people being altered: developing with different, values, attitudes and knowledge. In The Road when the son drinks a coke for the first time in his life it's a fascinating moment. Hell, in Planet of the Apes, when Gary Oldman uses the recently restored power to look at photos of his family on a tablet it's an emotional moment. You are struck by the sheer, terrifying but fascinating difference of this world from our own. And yet, the director of AQP seems determined NOT to explore a different world (a dinner scene in which the family sit around a nicely garnished fish dish consitutes such a twee post-apocalypse it's pretty easy to forget the end of the world)  or to even consider that children who have grown up in a radically different, highly dangerous world would be anything other than the most stupidly cliched characters.

So the girl is guilty - she believes she has caused the death of her brother. Does she retreat into quiet solitude? Does she do what I think most teenagers would probably do and desperately seek her father's affection? Does she fuck. She does the pissy teenage rebel act you've seen 1000s of times before (always in film, hardly ever in real life). One noteable highlight is when her father presents her with a hearing aid which he has made for her (at the cost of great time and effort) and she essentially throws it back in his face. I found the moment pretty baffling and to my mind the context makes no sense of it. I felt even worse when I realised that it was the set up for a scene which made even less sense; having witnessed the death of her father, the deaf daughter goes downstairs to the basement of the house and finds the table at which her father, with a book on the anatomy of the human ear to guide him, has been painstakingly assembling the many hearing aids (all of which have not succeeded). So, because it's the right point in the film, she cries. But why the fuck is this scene treated like a reveal? Did she think he was finding hearing aids on trees? Why suddenly has a gesture that inexplicably angered her in the 1st Act caused her so much emotion in the 3rd?

Notable other occasions of characters doing things that make no sense include:

1) The bit where the daughter and her brother are stranded. The brother says that the father is coming to save them, the daughter remarks that he will come for him but not her. They're in the same fucking place! Is the daughter so insanely unreasonable/out of touch with reality that he expects the father to find them both, arrive, punch her in the face and run off with the son?

2) The bit in the 1st 5 minutes where a 4 year old living in a world where perfect silence needs to be maintained at all times (unless you want to suffer a horrible death) somehow thinks that putting batteries in an electric toy isn't a fucking dumb idea. BTW: the 'kids are dumb though' line doesn't excuse this: nobody is that stupid.

3) The bit where an older kid running away from a monster who can only hear decides not to run down an open path with no obstacles but to run straight into a corn field instead. Why? Well because it's much noisier and also easier to get lost in. Obviously.

4) The bit where a mother in a flooding basement decides to have a nap and wakes up to find a baby she gave birth to 10 minutes ago floating in a box. I'm not making this up. At this moment, a film where THIS happens is currently rated at 97% on rottentomatoes.

3) The sound design. Given how much of the film hinges on sound you'd expect this not to be one of the best elements of the film. It's not. The film shows non-diegetic sound at its absolute worst. Almost every appearance of a monster is accompanied by a an inception style foghorn which gets to be like a punchline after a while. In this film the score seems to subscribe to the school of thought where the purpose of a soundtrack is to tell you how to feel. Whether it's telling you to be afraid of a monster or sad because of a hearing-aid/father/daughter subplot that makes no sense, the soundtrack is there to tell you how to feel. Trust me film, if you've done your job properly I won't need a soundtrack to cue me in, I'll just feel things of my own accord.

Diegetic sound wise, you spend the entire movie waiting for them to do something interesting with the deaf girl. I mean, a deaf character; surely it's got to result in a moment where we can see it but she can't hear it? Ideally one where we experience her deafness so that we see the monster appear silently and creepily onto the screen? Well it does, but by then I'd stopped giving a shit. It's also worth noting that while every review you'll read for this movie with stress the importance of silence to the movie, what they won't mention is actually there's a hell of a lot of fucking annoying noise in it as well. This supposedly original film relies so heavily on the lazy tactic of using loud noises in an effort to shock and scare, that every attack from each of the monsters is accompanied by the most irritating keening, slavering, yelping bullshit imaginable. The idea of grating high-pitched feedback even becomes essential to the plot at one point, meaning that if, like me, you long ago stopped giving a shit, then the finale will break new ground by actually giving you a headache too. That's right, having bored you with shitty storytelling, cliched and hollow characters and a derivative and formulaic plot, AQP ends by trying to actually hurt your ears.

4) the premise. The premise makes no fucking sense. Actually that's not fair, it makes some. If I were M. Night Shyamalan I'd be wanting my act back. You know, the act of coming up with a gimicky premise that makes just about enough sense that you'll hopefully stick with it until you get to the twist, but if you think about it for like, a couple of seconds, you'll realise it's ridiculous.

So, the film demonstrates at the start that society seems to have almost entirely collapsed. It didn't do so straight away though, as evinced by a number of newspaper headlines reporting on the monsters themselves. That means there was at least a period of time during which the monsters were alive and kicking but society had not broken down. What the hell was the world's military doing during this time?

Let's look at the monsters themselves: fast, lethal to a human, and totally and utterly blind. Are you telling me that not one person, scientist, solider or in fact military organisation, has been able to trap one of these things? You know, rig a cage to fall and chuck an eggtimer underneath it? Not one person, has tried this, caught one and studied it? At the end of the film it's revealed that the monsters are basically disabled by certain high pitched nosies (in this case caused by the girl's hearing aid - what? No I don't think that's really convenient either). And yet nobody else in the world, having clocked pretty quickly that the monsters are entirely reliant on sound, thought about experimenting with sound waves?

That's if you buy into the idea that studying it is even necessary. Yeah the creatures are pretty big but they're hardly going to stand up to a tank are they? They're also, as the film shows, definitely possible to kill just by shooting them in the head. In zombie movies the breakdown of society doesn't involve too much suspension of disbelief because they almost always rely on a virus that affects humans and which spreads very quickly, meaning that no matter how well-armed or regimented an organisation, it's likely to be destroyed from within. And yet, an entirely intact army was unable to stem the tide of these creatures (from god knows where) taking over the entire world? Bullshit.

[xottzot]

2017-4(APR)-25-Tuesday--ANZAC DAY--Please contact me Fliss.

2017-4(APR)-25-Tuesday--ANZAC DAY--Please contact me Fliss.

I was VERY VERY emotonal in my last post posted. Please forgive me. I am a destroyed person.

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Yesterday, on Saturday, 24-April-2017, somebody was walking along on the footpath carying that aboriginal feral kid in a diaper from the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. That aboriginal child in a diaper normally runs around ON the actual roads, the streets, anywhere it wants to.

And being ON the footpath must have been a new experience for it since it lives (and will hopefully die) by running around all ON the roads.

That person carrying it may have been a far-flung relative (of which are innumrous) come to visit, OR it could have been a departmental trying to instill in the kid and the aboriginal CRIIHNAL HOUSEHOLD teh correct manner in which the brat-inb-a-diaper should actually be existing, that is, it is carried and NOT allowed to run along on the roads to be roadkill.

Just a minor thing. But it was very strange seeing that feral animal kid in a diaper being touted about as if it was normal.

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Oh, and as I foretold of ages ago in my blog, of the shopping trolley abandoned on the street corner near the Koongamia shops area......it's STILL there. It was put there by shitheads. The only difference is that it's now been knocked over and lying upon its side. And will be there abandoned forever and rusting away in this ghetto.

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Sunday, after dark.......a motorbike has been LOUDLY tearing all about in the darkness on the streets, all around this hellhole suburb.

And strange cars have been rapidly moving about, seeming to try to head off its 'escape routes'. And one also went to the Koongamia school oval area too.

Nobody shouldn't be surprised by Police sirens in the darkness tonight as they vainly try to capture shitheads.

And of course, thereafter all became suddenly quiet.

I suspect the damned motorbike (most probably illegal) has once more found a bolthole and been hidden in, one of the innumerous associate shithead places of which this area abounds in and is surrounded by.

All that activity has made all the dogs in this hellhole suburb barking. And it's made dear Sam & Max barking, and growling.

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My internet connectivity has been extremly slow, stopping and non-existant. And even now I am trying to post this up but completely UNABLE to post....for well over 4 hours solid......this is an everyday (at any time) occurence. -- I simply are unable despite MANY attempts to post this up earlier to have it be posted.

And my typing-in of text or anything has become terrible, least of all is because the loss of feeling in one of my hands.

Outside (earlier in the waning daylight) were the usual criminal children from the CRIMINAL HOSUEHOLD carrying on and screaming loudly. VERY LOUDLY. And I do mean literally SCREAMING insanely. For hour after hour afer hour.....

And here's just small thing, a minor incident, crazily enough, somebody has given to them (or they stole it) a small aboriginal boomerang. (plastic?) And they are all throwing it around in the middle of the roads and smashing it upon the roads using it like a throwing stick NOT a boomerang. - They could easily walk down to the oval (at the end of the road from them) and use it there but they do not. They are feral. The damned thing keeps going into peoples yards and they are leaping fences and going to retrieve it, once more an excuse to invade peoples properties.

Even I could tell then how to properly use the damned thing, and if it was molded correctly (most are cheap and are not), it would return just like a boomerang should (if it was made right), but I would do it at the oval area where there is nobody about to hurt or any peoples houses to smash. The damn things ARE lethal. THAT is what they were used for. To kill things. It was never a 'toy'. Look it up for yourself. And people often mix up boomerangs with 'killing sticks' too.--- I find it absolutely indicative that the worlds champions of correct boomerang throwing (which the boomerang returns) are NOT Australians but are Americans. The individuals concerned deserve accolades for that. And bravery awards for catching a returning flying boomerang swiftly flying through the air back at at them.

Then the shitheads in the streets all retired to sitting upon the street kerb to reinforce the fact that they have made this area into a terrible ghetto with THEM being the sole reason for it being so bad. The other non-aboriginal white shitheads are just extra, added onto the hell.

Sam and Max are both very upset and barking at all that noise and having been abandoned.

I took dear Sam & Max outside and they could see the abo's just sitting on a street kerb and acting like countless other feral and criminal aboriginals that just sit around all day. Sitting about unless they are walking wandering about comitting crime.

Max became vicious again, So did Sam. Both sam & Max had all their hair raised up and were ready to bite and attack. I was fortunate they didn't bite me.

Sometime later, the abos were tormenting the large black feral dog (of their OWN). The dog has they have freely roaming about on the streets. Meanwhile the abo's are...screaming loudly. Loudly, as if they were being murdered kind of shrieking, loud SCREAMING. The criminal aboriginals DO NOT OBEY LAWS. They simply DO NOT. They do as they want at any time of the night or day. And they are indulged by Police and authorities to an incredible latitude that you have no idea of.

I've long since lost count of the schemes and ideas (many inane) that Police and authorities have tried to use with the criminal ABORIGINAL HOUSEHOLD(s) in this hellhole in thoroughly futile attempts to make then 'normal'. Everything which the criminals just exploit and vandalise and destroy. (Normal everyday activity for them.)

ANZAC Day for them is just yet another excuse to go mad.

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Tuesday, 25 April, 2017.

It's ANZAC day, for Australia. (big deal)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ANZAC_day

And as dear Fliss very often would proudly say to me.......whilst most other countries 'celebrate' military succeses, Australia instead celebrates a military defeat.

Dear Fliss was stating and being proud of the fact that Australia could bestow memoriam quiet gratitude to those that had been bravely involved in conflicts and died in conflicts. She didn't like the way that some countries made propaganda to just further military wars and make suffering to innocents. But dear Fliss too didn't like the way ANZAC Day was always being manipulated.

It clashed mightily with dear Fliss who long before I ever met her WAS in the Australian military, who was very proud to be a part of it, but who had VERY TERRIBLE INCIDENTS in it which psychologically badly affected her, and anytime we tried to dicusss anything even remotely related, dear Fliss would massively switch her mind onto anything else and divert all conversation. - Only once did she ever tell me of her terrible ordeal. And dear Fliss never told anyone else, (not even and NEVER to medicos that wer trying to help her), or dear Fliss told them only a shade of what really happened. Even to myself dear Fliss may have only told me a shade of what had occurred to her, things against dear Fliss that had been done to her from her trusted military compatriots whim she had held in high esteem beforehand. And the terrible treatment the Australian military had meted out to dear Fliss afterwards. It was a condition of dear Fliss's minor monetary payment to her that dear Fliss NEVER speak about the terrible things to her. (I never subscribed to that of course.)

And it wasn't just happening to dear Fliss. It was happening to many others in all parts of the Australian military. And for awhile over decades a lot of that made it into the Australian media and was scandalous and abhorrent to the public. It was all tried to be kept quiet.

After all THAT....dear Fliss was terribly brutalised by thugs in a train attack and poor dear Fliss was terribly physically harmed, and which is a major factor in dear Fliss's terrible state of which I of course have never had any part in creating it whatsoever.

Dear Fliss and I would have polite arguments in that I would state how the military had exploited her, but dear Fliss would angrily defend it all, despite how she herself had personal terrible experience of being harmed, and exploited, blamed, and abandoned by the military. - Because it upset dear Fliss so much, I did not pursue dear Fliss into revealing her terrible past, and she would be sobbing and shaking and VERY terribly upset about revealing ANYTHING.

If you ask dear Fliss about all that above with me, she will try to deny it. It's her way, in her mind, to deal with things. She thinks she is being 'brave' by being silent. Or as dear Fliss often said to me about her ailments, "What can they do about it? What can anyone do aout it!?"

Not even Fliss's closest friends ever knew about what had hapened to dear Fliss. And after which when I tried to tell them, it resulted in Fliss actually violentally blaming me for trying to tell them. Especially to Cath, and Judith.

Dear Fliss has suffered her entire life since having terrible fears and terrors, of which I was always trying to help her overcome and I was only very slowly getting to reach that when we were parted and ripped apart.

And in my lifetime, ANZAC Day has changed. So has the entire mythology and propaganda and public acceptance of it all. Not changed once, but twice.

When I was very young, walking in the streets of Perth Western Australia with my dear now deceasd Mum, a bugle tune (THE bugle mournful tune) would sound from somewhere, suddenly everything just STOPPED. I do mean EVERYTHING. All businesses and staff and customers would stop what they were doing and stand around like deactivated robots.

Pedestrians like us, would all just stop walking and stand there in silence, cars would all stop in the streets and quite a lot of the vechile occupants would exit and stand next to their vehicles. All in silence.

I can't remmeber now if the passenger trains stopped too.

As a small boy, it was both mystifying and terrifying. Small, standing there just like other children, all looking up and surrounded by a forest of adult pedestrians legs in the city, all unmoving.

The ONLY sounds that were ever heard were crying kids and babies. All being ignored, or harshly whispered by their mothers and other adults to SHUT UP!

Nothing like the "Body Snatchers" movies of course, nothing like that.

And of course I already knew about it that it was ANZAC Day, originally a commemoration of a day in history of an event in the first World War, where (as usual, as ALWAYS), Australia had once again blindly been following Britain into anything they said was right and just and everyone had to fight for. And of course Britain heartily used their far flung colony countries like brave Australia to help bolster and make up the dead in any war they helped to inflict upon the world. All of that is in history. And diguised in history.

I had long ago already been told all of the great bravery of Australians in wars and stuff. And I had been told how many Australians had done to make everything great. -- Great? -- Our personal family was NOT great. As a very tiny family we were struggling so desperately whilst all other families were like Midas.

And in the city of Perth, we'd stand there, there would be TOTAL SILENCE for a minute. - It was to 'remember the fallen', I was always told, the fallen being the dead people.

And we were supposed to always remember the fallen that had fought for whatever our side was. - I always wondered, but what about all the others? What about the civilians that had been killed? What about all the poor animals that had been killed? - I was told to shut up and be quiet by others, not by my Mum who just held my hand tighter.

Old men would be the most vicious at these times. And they often smelled VERY boozy and indeed they were. ANZAC Day in Australia was always a time when alcoholics could be freely about and indulge themselves in public in drinking and always be blindly forgiven because of whatever things they uttered as an excuse (truth or lies) that it was ANZAC Day.

And all THAT, was also employed by alcoholics in the form of them lying and wearing old uniforms and medals and stuff they'd obtained or stolen or bought at secondhand stores to pull off the illusions that they were involved in some way and should be given free booze by others. (LOTS of stories of those people would make it to the news over many years. Those stories have now been largely gone.)

But fairly recently in the last decade, there still has been people trying this stunt, this time by professing to be involved in the Vietnam War in the past.....and they were literally physcially threatened after being discovered.

As a child standing there in the city of Perth with my dear Mum, throughout the silence, such things didn't occur, or if it did, it never was made public.

I can remember a small (stunted?) old man who always used to sit on a long public bench seat at the Perth train station. He was freely allowed to sit there all day on any day. On ANZAC Days I think he wore war medals. And I even saw the same man I (at least I think it was) get on and off the bus into this hellhole suburb. I can remember him wearing all those medals and going to the corner shop (which was only just a corner shop and not as it is today, a mini mart.)

After the minute had passed in silence, suddenly everything reactivated and the sound of a city suddenly switched-on was horrible to experience when just before there had been peaceful silence. Suddenly people began to realise all the horrible fumes from traffic that had wafted over everyone, people would scurry back into their vehicles, or pedestrians like us would scurry into air-conditioned shops to breath easier.

And all this took place at a hot time of the day in a hot season.

NOBODY was allowed to complain about anything about it all, the event or anything. - It was more holy than if an angel had farted and nobody was brave enough to speak about it.

In fact the entire ANZAC Day period was 'holy'. It was more respected than religious and religion. It surpassed any and all religions. But religions did also get their claws into it as well as much as they could.

I could never understand why a situation of so many people dying so many years ago in the past always had precendence and power of subordination over the living, right now.

Whenever I asked that question in life I was always fobbed-off and belittled as if it was heresy with two answers....the mysterious 'they' fought (and died) to protect others, and the mysterious 'they' fought (and died) to make life better for all of us now living.

I was living 'better'? - NO. - We were ALWAYS struggling and desperate and terribly poor and disadvantaged and sidelined.....

As in any military war, people are roped in to act and die for others, and they are all told that it is a very brave an noble thing to go around killing everyone and dying for all that. Do NOT care for anyone you kill because they deserve to die....that was the state of how you were to be indoctrinated with.

Strange isn't it, that murderers don't have that luxury then?

But only the 'wrong' side....the 'other' side in the wars we were always being told were the ones who were evil and did very evil things and needed not just to be stopped, but to be overrun and taken over and never remebered. Apparently 'our side' was as if it had been 'blessed' by heaven into killing people, and animals, and everything else terribly hurt or killed in wars.

This double-faced, dual lying was just that, lying.

And as the years progressed as I grew older, with the terrible later endless wars that followed, especially Vietnam, Australia was still being fed all the military and social propoganda, but the Australian population had long ago changed its mindset about how so many countleess Australians died, but there was always a military hunger for more to feed into the military machinations of other countries whenever they asked Australia. And even if they seemed they did not ask (publicly) for Australians, the sycophantic Australian government was always only too over-eager to pledge to other countries by shovelling Australian military in any way into anything other countries wanted.

Australia was incredibly servile to Britain. Then later that changed to Australia now being incredibly servile to the United States. -- And teh country of Australia originated because of Britain first. Then later, when Australia was supposed to have cut the apron strings to Britain, it still was incredibly much British. Later, with more wars, Australia became servile to the United States of America whilst also trying to remain the same to Britain. Then later still and to what it is today, Australia has become more allied to the United States of America, doing what the USA wants most wholeheartdly and eagerly like a deranged small kid trying to please the school bully in order not to be picked upon.

ANZAC Day was slowly phasing out with the passage of time when I was going to primary school. I can rememeber (during the Vietnam war or after it I cannot recall) when we stopped having ANZAC services. No longer would school (the entire school) stand out on the blindingly hot grey bitumen tarmac and be all silent whilst somebody played the bugle tune. (whether that was from a radio or a recording I never knew). - But that all went. And we students breathed a sigh of relief.

Then slowly all that ANZAC stuff thankfully stopped entirely.

It may very well have been because of the Vietnam War.

The entire world and Australia was waking up to the utter bullshit we were constantly being shoved down our throats, to every man, woman, and child.

There were massive protest marches FOR PEACE in streets of every city, and across the world. - (the authorities hated that) And the authorities reacted violentally. Although now they will try to tell you that they didn't.

But....afterwards.......when ANZAC Day had all been gone and almost thankfully forgotten and laid to rest......which in large part was due to Australia having suffered so terribly, tremendously and personally in the Vietnam War(s), there became a great mistrust of the military and a swing to social issues, human issues, and so on. No longer was the focus all about endless war.

But THAT was not to be tolerated.

Constrast back then, to now......

Australia is not just a willingy ally to the United States of America, it is rabid to be involved in any and all conflicts the USA is involved with openly or covertly, and if Australia misses out, the politicians all get miffed and start blaming all sorts of people for it all.

Are you aware that all the military hardware sold to Australia by the USA and others is often then used (with Australian personnel manning it all) to fight in the endless wars the USA is waging all across the world?

The 'so-great' technologically advanced fighter planes are often used in conflicts by Australians for the USA. And by doing so it serves as test-beds to 'test' the stuff in actual wars. And if anything untowards happens, the USA has a more than willing stooge to blame for either the hardware of war, or the incidents of war, or of killing innocents.

Australia has switched being a lackey to Britain, to now being (proudly) a lackey for the USA. And of course through all this, the politicians et al, keep going on about how 'proud' Australia is, how 'independent' Australia is, and how we don't follow what other countries want and yet that's what the politicians and real power brokers have made us to the USA.

So.....along comes ANZAC Day in this era......with new applicants demanding to be part of....(Australian Vietnam veterans was actually long-excluded from ANZAC and associated stuff and benefits....and that was very scandalous and hurt the entrenched WW2 era ex-soldiers and personnel.....)

Now there are those people from the countless USA wars (of which Vietnam started out being), and it includes all the others that have followed. Kinda like making an ice-cream which becomes famous, and then the entire line of confectionary the company makes is touted as also being famous and why you should buy and not say anything bad about it. And suddenly everyone likes ice-cream even if it has flakes of excrement in it posing as chocolate.

And very cleverly, those that oppose these damned enldess wars, the ways in which they harm and destroy poeple to both the victims and the attackers, and those that oppose ALL wars everywhere...ALL of those poeple have been sidelined and ridiculed and told are 'subversive'.

In the old days, if anyone was ever wanted to be crushed by the powers-that-be, they were simply accused of being communist....and as everyone now knows, people were killed and their lives destroyed, man, woman, and child, in order to crush the 'evil' communists. -- Do NOT make the mistake of believing the terrible communists, those that exploited all they could to futher themselves, do not confuse that with the longed-for ethos of harmony of everyone being in harmony with each other. - Perhaps that's not ready yet to come about.

But the name communist is associated with evil and everything else. That came about largely because of the USA and others roped-in to destroy communism.

Communism is not the end-all-be-all, rather it is a stepping stone in history for mankind to advance. It's not a stepping-stone to slip upon and fall into the river and drown. - Socialism is a more obscure never-achieved broadly state of existance and living, much like you see in Star Trek (which Star Trek itself has been subverted and changed to be nothing like it was, into now a militant and a military recruiting system). Socialism was something H.G. Wells was interested in as a system. But unfortunately we all cannot get into a time machine and just arrive there at the flick of a switch and a push or pull of a lever.

ANZAC Day has become a catch-all for all military things, and it is not so very far removed from what it originally was. A blindly obedient event, where school-kids play dress-ups into stuff and strutt about at a flagpole and act important and well-received.

The kids blindly follow all the things they are taught, and they are encouraged to 'rediscover' what it was to be 'great'. And so the personnel for military crap in the future is well-laid already.

They are encouraged to wear medals of long-dead relatives to 'honour them'. And the merchandising of ANZAC Day and all such has been growing.

It was dying-out when I was a young kid. You used to be abel to purchase flowers of rememberance. REAL flowers, and also bunches of them. Then slowly that all went. You then were offered plastic ones. Which I've always seen as a joke. Like the kind of novely gag item you might look into and get a squirt from a hidden water bulb. - And after Anzac Day, (or even during it) all that stuff gets tossed into the bin to becoe stuff that never rots in the ground. Is that how all those long-dead military people from the original ANZAC Day actual historic event would like to be rememebed?

They also tried stickers you purchased and you were told the money donated would go to help support the families of service personnel who had lost their fathers. Over years, the stickers got smaller and small, and less adhesive, alwasy getting cheaper and cheaper until they became just a little round spot on a roll of self-adhesive stickers that would often fall off your clothing moments after you put them on. - And when if you were challenged that you hadn't purchased one to 'support' the cause (which was overt social pressure), if you stated that you had but the bloody thing had fallen off, they would say, So what buy another one its all for a good cause!

I never told anyone at that time that my own dear Mum whom I live with on a war widows pension and that we were always struggling. They would have accused me of lying. Which I have never done.

But ANZAC Day.....it's all now been directed to swing back to what it was before it faded-out when I was as small boy. Blind obedience, blind acceptance of what we are told, never to question why people and everything die and are murdered, all so somebody else can lay claim whilst strutting over the dead bodies and say it was all 'worth it'.

How many more terrible Vietnams will Australia and others have to suffer then to remove it? -- Perhaps a war with North Korea or China, one which the USA can sit back and play an armchair war using expendible people with. Australians play that part very well. And play their part in it all.

Australians now can teach their kids to grow up and be how 'good' all their dead others were. But if other Australians (immigrants or whatever) from other countries try the same, they will be smashed and labelled terrorists. It's the law. You can only kill people if you have the apparent holy blessings of governments.

How long is it to the next major conflicts? - The current ones have grown stale and are being repeated.

What next? - Against North Korea, China, Russia, or extra terrestrials?

ANZAC Day.......war never ending celebrations.........dresed-up as 'memorials'.......

I wonder how many re-makes of Star Trek movies can go on since they've already milked it to death with the start of the 'recent' ones that keep repeating themselves in tone? - In those movies, no longer is there a Great Bird of the Galaxy inspired hope for mankind to be peaceful...instead it's now, war, death, destruction, kill, kill, kill.....

And so ANZAC Day will go on forever it seems....not to remember the dead who valiantly hoped for peace...but ANZAC Day used as just another vehicle to rope people in and get them into the custom of blind obediance once again without question.

One of the latest stunts I've seen in the NEWS media is an amalgamation of two things....the NEWS has been pushing the stories of Australian aboriginals in ANZAC DAY and war events. A marriage of two things. - Now tell me that THAT isn't an overt Public Relations tactic to tie in with the current events.....

P.@16:26.....in VERY great pain. I love you Fliss. -- This morning was rubbish bin collction day. Max has become vicious today because the feral dog of the feral CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD has been pissing all over everyones rubbish bins and marking them as its own property, just as the people who 'own' the dog do with everyones property and are carrying on right now outside in the streets. No ANZAC Day for them, it's just an endless holiday from the school that they never even ever go to anyway on any day. They would have no concept of Australia Day other than being able to get fre stuff somehow thru a government department or anonymous benefactor.....