#you're such an inescapable part of me but we're not even friends

[rotisseries]

everyone debates about elmike like oh they're the best of friends no they would never hang out on their own they don't even know each other, when the true answer, much like everything else about them, is that there is so so much and also nothing at all

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

[being-addie]

Online aesthetics and the effects of social media trends

Let's talk about this.

How it can affect young teenagers

Open Tiktok or Instagram and everything on my For You Page now shows "How to achieve a Clean Girl Aesthetic"', "Old Money Aesthetic Hairstyles", "Cottagecore Hobbies", "How to be a Femme Fatale"

It never ends. Trends keep popping up left and right and it's inescapable.

As a young, impressionable teenager, I was, of course, naturally going to be influenced by these ever-changing trends. I'd constantly change my room aesthetic, buy new clothes, and I was never satisfied with my appearance. Why? Because I didn't look like the girls on screen.

News flash. You're never going to look like them. All that content they produce which gets 100k likes is done with excessive attention to detail, expensive lighting and sound equipment, and top-notch editing software. OF COURSE, you can't look like that. It's completely manufactured. It's heartbreaking to see young girls develop body image issues because of the constant bombarding of these "aesthetics" which are basically different beauty standards and stereotypes all wrapped up in a neat little package that is labelled "personality and style". I don't have anything against the concepts of aesthetics. I love how Dark and Light Academia is centred around learning, and how Cottagecore is all about relaxation and not conforming to being part of a 9-5 and just living life. I like how the Clean Girl is focused on being healthy and productive. What I don't like is how all these healthy things, which normal functioning humans should be doing are now turned into "trends" and you must "choose" between them.

Why it's so harmful

Fashion: Since aesthetics keep changing, you're going to find multiple that appeal to you. What happens when you discover you really like cottagecore, but your closet is filled with dark academia tweed? You turn to fast fashion. It's cheap and stylish. But it's horrible for the environment and that floral dress you're wearing was made by a woman in a sweatshop in Bangladesh, while fashion giants like Shein pocket the money.

Makeup: It's always there. Always. You cannot find a "how-to" post regarding aesthetics and makeup is not included. Its always how much blush to apply, why mascara is your best friend, blah blah blah. You know what I want to see? An aesthetic which promotes a clean, fresh face. I do wear makeup, not saying I'm perfect(yes, I wear lip tint and sometimes eyeliner), but it's the ridiculous notion that there's a specific makeup look for each aesthetic, and they say it's not very heavy, but really is concealer, foundation, blush, mascara and lipgloss light makeup?

Other: Then comes the things you should own, the bags, the shoes, the jewellery, the house decor. Did you notice to achieve the look, we're spending money bit by bit? Then you don't even realise it's made a dent in your savings.

Mentality: I hate this part about aesthetics so much. A while ago, I was really interested in Dark Academia and how it was centred around learning and studying. But everything was gloomy and dark and said I should be tired and bitter to achieve this. I'm not a serious person by nature in the first place, but here were blogs telling me to be "mysterious" and how I should be getting only 4 hours of sleep to be true Dark Academia? What is this dystopia? There's this weird obsession with how someone should behave if they like an aesthetic.

Online trends are all consumerism based. It's all to get you to blow your money on things that don't even benefit you.

There's a reason I never include and never will include tags like #clean girl or #pink pilates princess in my posts because it sort of reduces you to a certain aspect. Why confine yourself to these barriers? Wear what you want. Read what you like. The one "aesthetic" I believe in, is "that girl" which in reality is different for everyone, but boils down to being educated, well-mannered, and considerate. I will make a post on this. Being educated and kind is such a flex, not wearing one flowy white dress and "thinking" you're in a meadow. Break out of the pattern of being influenced by algorithms. Don't restrict your identity because of FOMO and the urge to be trendy. You've got this.

<3

[onlydylanobrien]

Dylan O’Brien & Zoey Deutch On Influencers, Erotic 80s Thrillers & Being #TeamTaylor

"I had some really wonderful, insightful conversations with public figures who have been cancelled." - by Harriet Sim

Starring in the confronting new drama Not Okay, co-stars Dylan O’Brien and Zoey Deutch sit down with marie claire Australia to talk about what drew them to the film, their first experience with influencer culture, and why they'll always been on Taylor Swift's team.

Marie Claire: Not Okay puts influencer culture under a microscope and examines how it’s become part of the zeitgeist. What drew you both to the script?

Zoey Deutch: I'm really fascinated by cancel culture. When you do a horrible thing, there are consequences, but we're in an interesting time where we sit behind our computers and play God, and decide who gets to live or die. Public shaming and cancellation isn't a new thing, but the scope, and how quick and inescapable it is, is new. I was really interested in that conversation and asking the question, should people be allowed to make mistakes? Do you believe in redemption? I think everybody looks inward. That's always been a really interesting thing for me to discuss; Internet culture, privilege and the mindless endless scrolling that we do. On social media you see war and school shootings, and then sprinkled in there are ads for hair and gummies and beyond Facetuned photos, and you're just hit with this stuff. That’s what drew me to the story.

MC: What was your first exposure to influencer culture?

Dylan O'Brien: I guess YouTube was the first iteration of it, and since then it's just had these different evolutions. It feels like anybody can become an influencer with the way TikTok is designed, it makes it easier to find your way to anyone's pages.

MC: Did any of the current influencers or make for a great character research?

ZD: We spoke to, and I won’t name names, many cancelled people. I had some really wonderful, insightful and interesting conversations with public figures who have been cancelled. They were multifaceted people who had made bad mistakes, and were suffering consequences, and were wondering, how long would they be suffering for.

MC: Dylan, you use Twitter, as a platform for advocacy on everything from pro-choice, LQBTQI rights, black lives matter ect. Why is using your voice and your platform on this medium something that is important to you?

DO: I think it's mostly driven by what's been going on in the world. The way I see it is that it’s this collective, this conversation and fight. In such unprecedented times it's sort of an emotional desperation. If you can possibly bring even the tiniest little percentage of awareness, I think it's our collective duty to do that together.

MC: Zoey you’re in Ed Sheeran’s Perfect music video and Dylan you’re the heartbreaker in Taylor’s All Too Well. What was the experience like?

DO: Working with Taylor was amazing. I can’t believe she’s real sometimes. She just naturally became a friend so quickly. It felt like we’d known each other for years, we’re the same age and have a lot of mutual friends. She’s the best and so brilliant.

ZD: What’s funny about both Taylor and Ed is they are both so prolific. They write hit after hit. Their songs are so deep, vulnerable and personal. I remember asking Ed ‘are you ever worried you’ll get writer’s block?’ And he’s like, ‘Absolutely not.’ They are similar in that sense, they just have so much to say.

MC: What genre would you like to tackle next?

DO: I’d love to do a horror movie.

ZD: Me too!

MC: Would you play the hero or the villain?

Dylan: I don’t think I’d be believable as the bad guy.

Zoey: Really? I think he could be a good creepy murderer and I mean that lovingly.

Dylan: For weeks I’ve been on this 80s erotic thriller kick. We’re got to bring back the erotic thriller.

Zoey: Dylan’s interested in being fully nude for an hour and a half. I feel confident we can make that happen.

MC: Have you read A Court of Thorn and Roses? It’s essentially fairy porn, but they’re making it into a film.

Dylan: What, no?

Zoey: Ok, we need to delve deep. Dylan’s looking into fairy porn now.

Dylan: This is cool.

Zoey: Okay, this is your next movie Dylan.

[vvitchering]

I'm feeling weird and too inside my own head today so I'm going to distract myself by answering all the questions in this ofmd ask game I found~

Ed x Stede: a slow burn or an arson fire?

I think it all depends on who's perspective you're looking through! I personally think it took Ed kissing Stede for Stede to even begin to realize he was in Love. Capital L love. I think he was aware the feelings he'd had for Ed weren't ones he was directly familiar with and was therefore confused about the nature of. Most likely he'd been thinking of them as close friends just because he didn't have the insight to tell it was love yet. I think it might even have taken until the conversation about love with Mary for him to finally fully realize "oh shit, I love him! That's what this has been this entire time!"  So definitely a slower burn on Stede's side.

Ed on the other hand... I don't think it took much longer than their first real interaction for Ed to fall for Stede, just a little bit. I think it was probably simple infatuation or fascination at first and then by the time Stede is setting the party boat on fire Ed is having his "oh SHIT, I LOVE him" moment. And unlike Stede, I think Ed has known love in his life, knows how to recognize it in himself and in others, but maybe hasn't experienced it to this extent. He's never clicked with someone so perfectly and so quickly and it's novel having someone around who he's sure isn't just sticking around to coast along in Blackbeard's wake. Stede likes Ed. No one has ever liked Ed before. Much more of an arson fire in his case!

Favorite antagonist?

I thought the Badminton twins were fascinating as antagonists, especially Nigel. Having him stick around as the physical embodiment of Stede's guilt was a really neat touch. Actually, thinking about it now, Chauncey did a lot to further Stede's journey, too. And his little rant about how Stede wasn't a human was absolutely devastating and I loved how bad that hurt :')

Thoughts on Ed and Stede's new looks?

I'm constantly on the fence about Ed's clean-shaven face! I initially had the same reaction to it as Stede like wHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE???? But it grew on me pretty quickly after that. Physical aesthetic aside, I think the removal of the iconic beard from Blackbeard means a lot in terms of where Ed is going as a character. There's a lot of debate within the fandom about which sides of Ed's psyche are actually him and which are masks he hides behind to protect himself. I'm personally inclined to believe Blackbeard didn't start off as a mask but definitely turned into one the more Ed realized someone like him wouldn't survive in the world of piracy if he didn't adapt. But at the same time I think that's an inescapable part of him now and isn't something he should be aiming to cut out completely in search of some "original" self. The Kraken, in comparison, is a great example of a mask Ed has called upon in the past to hide emotional hurt and then tucked away when not needed. I think I'd like to see Ed find a middle ground for himself. Maybe grow the beard back but keep it trimmed and taken care of. Maybe allow himself to dress with more flourishes and colors and accessories rather than just the intimidating black leather.

Stede's look isn't fully developed yet so I kind of have to hold off on my observations of that. We get a tiny taste of his new attitude at the end of the season! He has more confidence in himself now and has had a huge amount of guilt lifted from his heart that's been holding him back. Another thing I've noticed from the fandom is the worry that Stede will adopt a more conservative and plain style of dress and take less care overall with his appearance. I don't think we're going to see that at all. Stede's love for fine things is something integral to his character. It's his way of fighting back against a world that has been telling him he's weak and soft and weird his whole life. Instead of overcompensating by trying to look the part of the man the world has been yelling at him to be more like, he goes HARD the other direction and embraces his interest in and love for nice things. I don't think his recent development will change that. He might change a little physically, now that he has to actually live the life of a pirate and do manual labor. He might find himself becoming more muscular, growing out his facial hair, and decide he likes these new additions to his look. Maybe he won't! Who knows! I'm excited to see how he grows in S2!!!

What’s your favorite inanimate object?

I really like Stede's fancy ornate dagger we see him use a few times. It's so heavily embellished but still poses a threat and I think that's a cool reflection of himself as he comes into his own as a pirate. I'm mad we never get to see what the handle looks like, but I bet it's inlaid with gems or something ridiculous. I just know it's gaudy af. A close second is the unicorn figurehead on The Revenge. I just think it's neat and I want to hear Stede talk about why he picked it for his scary pirate ship lol

Lucius: Alive or dead? Any thoughts on why/how?

Oh he's definitely alive. He's living in the walls of the ship, he got picked up by a rival pirate crew passing through, he's a mermaid now, pick whatever theory you want, but that funky little man is alive somewhere.

Favorite side character?

It's hard to tell who can accurately be classified as a side character in this show! And it's hard to pick a favorite too. I guess I'm very intrigued by Frenchie, who mentions he was "in service" (thanks anon for clearing that line up. This is why I usually watch shows with subtitles on 🤦‍♀️) and knows enough about horrible rich people to empathize with how they treat Ed at the party. I actually want to know where Stede recruited his whole crew from. What are their backstories? How did people like Jim and Olu, who admit they never wanted to be pirates at all, come to be in their current situation?

Who had the best response to being interviewed by Chauncey?

I thought Frenchie and the Swede claiming they didn't speak English was hilarious. Also a fan of Ed immediately taking the blame for Nigel's murder (I wonder if Stede ever told him that story, or if he heard it from one of the crew)

What moment emotionally fucked you up the most?

Can I say the entire show? Pffffffff, I guess I'm going to have to go with a tie between a few moments:

Ed crying in the bathtub, admitting he couldn't bring himself to kill Stede, and then Stede reassuring him that they were friends despite finding out about the plan to have him killed. As silly of a line as it was, "You don't belong in doggy heaven" still sticks in my mind.

The scene at the end of ep 8 where Ed and Stede are tied up on the deck and Ed reaches over with his foot to nudge Stede. That was actually my very first glimpse of the show itself (I saw a clip of it on twitter before I ever knew the show existed) and it was that specific moment that had me thinking "oh, I need to watch this show huh". So that's been one of my favorite most punchy emotional moments.

The KISS SCENE!!!!!!! I don't think I need to explain that, we've all waxed poetic about it a million times.

Pretty much every moment in ep 10, despite the fact that I've only ever been able to make myself watch it once. Ed's slow but steady descent into heartbreak, grief, and rage. Mary's acceptance of Stede. That last lingering shot of Ed crying by the window fhdsjkfhdksjf

Favorite anachronism? Fang's Hot Topic studded belt headgear LMAO (actually the entire Queen Anne's crew looking like leather daddies makes me lose it every time)

What the fuck is Izzy’s problem? Is it/should it be fixable? Izzy has so many problems. That's why he's interesting. I want to say yes, he can be fixed, but at the same time, I don't think he NEEDS to be fixed. His main issue is that he's 100% in love with Blackbeard (important to note the difference, he loves Blackbeard, not necessarily Edward himself) and it's always been mostly one-sided and he's just become this lost, bitter, angry person because of it.

I think I would like him to be fixed enough that he can hang around for the rest of the show without having to worry about him hurting anyone (emotionally or physically) because the idea of him playing the "straight" man amongst the rest of this comedic muppet-esque crew is one of the funniest aspects of the entire show. AND I'm extremely married to the concept of he and Stede absolutely despising each other forever but being forced to put aside their feud to help someone they both love (Ed).

Favorite song choice? All of them. They were all perfect. Whoever picked out the music for this show was a genius. If I HAD to pick, I really liked the use of The Beach Boys' 'Our Prayer' as an intro for Ed as Blackbeard and 'High On A Rocky Ledge' by Moondog for the closing song in ep 1.

Pick one: Spanish Jackie’s wooden hand, Lucius’ whittled finger, Black Pete’s cleft lip and lisp, or Ed’s knee brace I refuse to pick. I think its absolutely amazing how much diversity that was put into the show and how absolutely none of it is portrayed in a negative light. Spanish Jackie's hand is so well done I didn't even notice it right away. She proudly wears eye-catching jewelry on it and uses it to smoke. Lucius' finger was lovingly made for him by someone he cares about, and who cares about him in return, and he not only isn't embarrassed by it but wears it constantly from that point on. Black Pete's cleft lip and lisp made me worried he might be made into the butt of many bad jokes, as people with speech differences often are, but it didn't happen. Not even once. He's even part of one of the main on screen romances! And Ed's brace!!! On a main character!!! A badass main character!!!!!! A badass main character who needs a piece of assistive equipment to help him move comfortably and safely!!!!!!!!!

Did Ed really plan to murder Stede when he told Izzy the plan?I've been thinking about this and I really don't know. It doesn't feel correct to say yes or no. My best answer is he meant it in the moment, and then once he got to know Stede better, realized he could never go through with it. I think the fuckery episode backs that up pretty well.

Favorite AU idea? Always love a good mer AU! And surprisingly, I haven’t read a lot of them for this fandom yet. What’s up with that? I’m also a sucker for a good juicy daemon au. Also not enough of those! I’ve enjoyed almost every au I’ve read, even the modern ones I don’t usually find myself interested in. The dynamics are just mwah~

What’s your number one wish for season 2 (besides happening at all or couples being reunited)?Lmao both of those ARE good reasons to wish for S2, but I guess I also want the opportunity to have more of the different character’s backstories revealed. I especially want to know Jim and Olu’s story. How did they meet? Obviously Olu knew Jim needed an in with Spanish Jackie in order to get to the man who murdered their family and that’s why he helped get them the job, but how did Olu get mixed up in that to begin with? How long have they been friends? How long has Olu been pining after them????????? Give me the answers, Jenkins. Give them to me. What’s your favorite gag/joke?Every single joke landed. All of them. Notable ones include: literally every single thing that comes out of Stede’s mouth that he thinks is super cool and is absolutely not (“I may be landed gentry, but I’m thrilled to be granted entry!” STEDE WHAT) The completely improvised chat Stede and Ed have on the treasure hunt excursion. The hijinks during We Gull Way Back (the turtle and the crab, the coconut fight, the literal pissing contest) Nana telling the story of how baby Jim bit a priest’s finger off. Does Ed eat soap or just use “yummy” to describe scents?I truly don’t think Ed is stupid enough to eat soap. I think we’re all collectively missing his weird sense of humor in the fact that he just wants everyone to THINK he eats the soap. Favorite line or delivery? Olu’s “Coming Nana! I’m coming for some cake!!!” makes me smile every time. Jim’s “I’m not a FUCKING. MERMAID”. Any line where Stede thinks what he’s just said is really cool but it’s actually the lamest thing ever said in the history of the human race. Ed’s soft “fuckin’ mental” when Stede shows him the auxiliary closet. 

What’s the gayest moment that had nothing to do with sex/innuendo or romance? One of the first things Stede and Ed do together is trade clothes. Presumably this is the beginnings of Ed’s plot to kill Stede and take over his life (trading clothes was to make sure he and Stede were close enough in height and build that a very mangled Stede could pass for Ed and that Ed could easily adopt Stede’s style of dress) Also, Izzy’s entire obsession with Blackbeard isn’t explicitly gay in canon (yet) but it certainly smells more than a little fruity to me. Favorite plot hole?The fact that one only has to get into a tiny boat and start rowing and one will inevitably find wherever it is one is going, even if that place is a singular boat in the middle of the ocean. The gaydar on these people is insanely accurate. 

Ask game is linked here!

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Some big thoughts on Asriel? Not sure if he counts as two separate characters (as himself and as Flowey), considering how much time and turmoil changes him, so pick one or both as you like.

ooh ok!! i guess ill answer for both of them as i see fit?? going with ut!azzy here since he is Absent in dr (send me a character)

First impression: first impression of flowey is There Is Something Wrong With You. first impression of asriel is oh god you're just a baby aren't you. you're just play acting at being evil oh no babyyy

Impression now: is, in fact, A Baby.

Favorite moment: the second stage true pacifist final boss is a pretty obvious one i think but also, like cmon. "YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO'S ANY FUN TO PLAY WITH ANYMORE! SO STOP FIGHTING AND JUST... LET ME... WIN!"

because specifically like, look at that contrasted with, say, the photoshop flowey fight. PSflowey is confident, controlling, twisting the game world and mocking you all the while, fully aware that you remember every rewrite. even flowey's earlier dialogue ("i am the prince of this world's future... but don't worry, my little monarch, my plan isn't regicide") or earlier points in that same fight ("every time you die, your grip on this world slips away...") you can see him, throughout the TP fight, slowly turning back into asriel. or more accurately, shedding the layers he's built up as flowey and being himself again. he's not some calculating evil being trying to rewrite history – he's a little boy and he wants his best friend back. and he's the most powerful being in the universe. it makes me Feel Things ok

Idea for a story: hmm. maybe... frisk falls into the underground much earlier in the timeline, before flowey has a chance to get Super Evil? that could be fun to play around with. ooh, especially if you time it for when flowey is starting to play around with being crueller, and now he's having this whole internal debate between the part of him that's starting to turn disenchanted with the whole resetting-to-be-nice thing and the part that still wants to be good

Unpopular opinion: idk what opinions people have but i guess like... flowey isn't irredeemable or anything. like he may be "soulless" but that doesn't mean he's Incurably Evil, he's just very very mentally set in the track of "nothing matters, i'll just do whatever i can think of to maybe feel something, anything"

also, fucking hell, can you imagine being trapped in a world where you can rewrite reality with a thought, do effectively whatever you want, and you also can't feel a thing? you have the power of a god and it means nothing? no matter what you do, what you choose... it's just empty? for who knows how long? that's INCREDIBLY FUCKED UP

Favorite relationship: uhh... aside from the obvious him and chara, maybe him and the player? because he's able to talk directly to us, and seems to sort of understand what we are, and has some meta knowledge about it, but he's also inescapably trapped in the game, and it's unclear if he even understands the level of removed that we are. he knows about saves, about resetting, but does he know that we're... not a part of his world at all? that this isn't some rogue soul but a vessel? or does he only see us in the context of his world, because he can't imagine beyond it yet

Favorite headcanon: i also wanna know what's up with him and papyrus. there's A Thing there.

[solomonfiore]

A Night in Kyiv

“I’m an angel who was attending a school of Satan.”

Anatoly Onoprienko

We have broken our way into an abandoned tenement in the slums of Kyiv. Piles of trash are scattered about recklessly. A black pentagram has been spraypainted on the wall. We mark all the squats we occupy this way as a tribute to Beelzebub. The wallet I stole from the old man I stabbed to death in the park earlier that evening has enabled us to spend a little extra money on drugs. A hypodermic needle filled with high-grade heroin sits next to a piss-stained mattress lying on the floor. I stole some vodka from the market on the way back from the Peste Noir concert. Most of the bottle has been finished. We're thoroughly drunk by now. You can't wait to make love. You're already lying back against the side of the mattress with your skirt hiked up over your pale, young legs. Our skin has yet to become leathery and peel away from our bones like it has to a lot of our friends who are addicts, though my track marks are becoming blacker and blacker—the chronic nature of my abuse growing impossible to ignore. I'm grateful that I was able to cop some decent drugs for a change. Due to the grinding poverty we are forced to endure on a daily basis, we often have to use a substance that is less potent and far more toxic than heroin to keep from getting sick. Were it not for the deplorable conditions of our environment we would not have to inject this garbage known as desomorphine. We are smarter than this! We are better than this! But the hopelessness of our situation keeps us down. We cannot raise our voice to our oppressors for fear of reprisal.

After having suppressed my rage throughout my adolescence, I found solace in Satanism. Huysmans once stated that Satanists are no more than disappointed Christians. Well, I am disappointed. Not only in Christ, but in the entire world. I am disappointed with the U.S. and globalization's fallout. I am tired of being caught in the middle of a tug-of-war between Poland and Russia like a helpless child growing up in a dysfunctional household. Centuries of oppression boil inside me, but I’m not allowed to scream. I must suppress this fury.

I’m getting sick. I feel weak. Tingling sensations radiate down over my shoulders, emptying out into my legs.

You want to make love, but I tell you we must shoot up first.

You have only been using needles for a week. You were twelve when you became my lover. Now you are thirteen. Your arms are as white as a Calla lily drenched in a gauze of mist. They show no trace of abuse. You’re still inexperienced and squeamish so I have to inject you myself.

Everything unfolds before us in black and white as if we were actors in a film. Our favorite scene gets played back over and over again unto eternity. I hear your breath in my ear while I find a tender, blue vein under the light of the moon. The plunger descends beneath my thumb and memories of our love are pushed back into my mind…

You were lost when I met you. The drowning ghost of Ophelia lived inside you. And your emerald eyes climbed out of the black waters of your long hair to cling to me for dear life. I introduced you to the Devil and you embraced His power wholeheartedly. I took sadistic pleasure in seeing what heresies you were willing to commit in His name. We vandalized and burned churches together when I wasn't introducing you to the lowliest depths of sexual degradation. But as our fascination with the occult grew into an obsession, it became apparent that we had both become equally enmeshed within a web of inescapable evil. Murder became more than just a means of fueling our habit. It became a mainstay.

We left a string of killings behind us. We talked about them for hours together, recalling certain details about the incidents that one of us may have missed in the heat of the slaughter. For instance, you were particularly interested in what our victims were wearing. Whether it was the diamond brooch we pilfered from your aunt after clubbing her to death in the schoolyard or the ring I had slid from off the finger of a dismembered hand seconds before proposing to you under a sanguine moon, you always had an eye for accoutrement. You remembered the pattern of the knickers that the street vendor from Andriyivskyy Descent wore when we stripped him down at the abandoned factory and forced him to drink drain cleaner, putting cigarettes out on his chest as he ingested the toxic concoction. After removing a pauper's private parts with a box cutter and feeding them to his dog, you kept its collar, not only as a memento, but to wear around your own neck as a fashion statement. You always had a strong sense for aesthetics.

What fascinated me was how some of our victims would assume an entirely passive stance once they came to the realization that their death was inevitable while others would scream like bloody hell until their very last breath. A trucker we ambushed on Hertsena Street was surprisingly resigned after I had slit his throat. Having worked at a slaughterhouse, I knew it took considerable time for a pig to die after this. Instead of panicking or trying to escape, he just lay there in the brush beside us, surrounded by tall stalks of hazel grass as a burbling fountain of maroon viscera bubbled out of his mouth. Watching the individual suffer is half the entertainment when committing a homicide. He wasn't animated enough so I stabbed him in the eyes with his own house keys hoping that would jolt him into action, but he hardly flinched. We took turns carving upside down crosses into the fat of his thighs but he nary moved an inch. On the other hand, a young woman and her five-year-old daughter would prove to be quite the handful. Not the daughter. The daughter behaved in much the same fashion as the old man, though I only know this from what you’ve told me. I was busy with Mother Goose. She sure squawked like one. Enough for me to have to stuff her mouth up with my own sock while gutting her. After considering these psychological phenomena, I asked you whether or not you intended to die softly or put up a fight.

Your purple lips curved into a serene smile. Lightly dusted with pollen from an upturned window box of chrysanthemums nearby, your cheeks betrayed an ever so slight blush of excitement. Bearing the tenderness of a kitten and the immaculate aura of a cherub, you answered thus:

“If it is for my Master, the Great Spirit Lucifer, I shall approach my grave with open arms. He has assured me during His visits that we will have a place beside Him at the foot of His throne so long as we have done His bidding on the material plane. The violence of our passion burns with a flame intense enough to carry us into the netherworld where we will rejoice together in love everlasting."

The Gods of the Pit must have been watching out for us. For we had successfully taken out almost a dozen people without a trace of the law in sight. But the season of our good fortune would abruptly change one afternoon.

We had been terrorizing a homeless woman in a field just outside of Puscha-Vodytsia. Cold drizzle pelted us as I smashed her head in with a shovel. Amping up the bludgeoning to a hyperbolic frequency, you, my ashen-haired accomplice, whipped her with the branch of a tree. In beige, mercurial gobs, the three of our shadows fused to create a single form projected onto the shivering walls of grass around us. The ghostly reflection of our struggle wavered in the wind. She whimpered and drooled as her brains spilled out of the top of her cracked skull with the same disorder as the tentacles of a freshly beached squid. On a trail less than a yard away, a little boy happened to be riding his bicycle. I knew he recognized you as the missing girl in the papers because he stopped momentarily to get a better look at the scene. I tried to catch him but he sped away.

Now we are on the run, hiding out in the slums of the Ukraine.

Your beauty shines through the gray pall of the room. You excite me beyond measure despite the potency of the heroin. I'm no longer paralyzed by the grinding stress of being hunted amidst a country about to go to war when I’m entering the clean, silky haven of your insides. It seems I could live off your spit and your fluids forever when we are bound together physically. I see the look in your pleading eyes and know what you want me to do. I wrap my hands around your throat and start to squeeze. It’s hard for me to stay focused on making love to you while I'm choking you, but I do it because you’ve come to love it so much. I derive no pleasure from this. I have to be careful not to deface your fragile skin or use too much pressure while at the same time maintaining my own level of arousal. This is difficult for me, particularly when I'm high. I do this strictly for you.

You’ve told me you’ve experienced visions of the Beast while being throttled and tonight something wondrous happens. Lucifer comes to visit, not just you, but both of us while our bodies are entwined together in that squalid lair. Inky jets of smoke climb out from the back of your head as you speak in tongues entirely foreign to this world. Sweaty bundles of pale yellow and green fungi growing on the far wall behind us swell to life. An oozing globule of sulfuric vapors congeals to form a static cloud in the shape of the Horned God. He stands over us, calling upon us to express our devotion to Him through the throes of our lust as we writhe about the floor in throes of illicit rapture. Your face begins to twitch as I apply extra pressure to your platysma muscle, clenching my teeth together so tightly they threaten to pierce the insides of my mouth. Your throat—so pure and white that it never so much as reveals the horizontal stress lines that all of us possess from infancy on—is now wreathed in blue and purple corals of broken blood vessels as ecchymosis sets in from vagal inhibition and the increased strain against your hyoid bone. Your hypoxic climax is a sea of convulsions squirming in my clenched fists. Milky clouds fill up the green domes of your eyes and a tear of black blood runs down your left cheek as my darkness empties into you, blotting out what little you still possessed of your purity like an oil spill spreading out from the center of a crystalline pond.

I collapse on top of you, resting my head atop the thin plate of your solar plexus. You’re coughing violently. You pull yourself out from beneath me. I lift myself up and watch you in silence as you gasp for air while clutching your throat. At first I’m worried I’ve gone too far this time, but you flash me a faint smile to assure me you’re okay once your composure’s regained. I breathe a sigh of relief. I haven’t disappointed Lucifer by denying Him the sacrifice we’ll be offering Him when we execute the joint suicide pact we planned for tomorrow on Walpurgisnacht.

"Regie Satanas," I mumble under my breath.

Solomon Fiore - March 18, 2017

<photos: Aleksandra Petrova>

Special thanks to Aleksandra Petrova of the Kitsune Klan.