#&. that sounds like a gamble to me. ( memes )

[likeadevils]

I trust your opinion. If you were making bets about what TS11's themes, concepts and sound would be like.. What would you like& prefer? and what would you think Taylor would do?

thank you for trusting my opinion but i am god awful at predicting what taylor is going to do next. that being said:

i think something taylor learned with all too well, anti-hero, and cruel summer is to… trust her instincts, i guess? not that she hasn’t in the past, but she’s mentioned that those songs were her favorites of their respective albums, and she didn’t expect that the general public would enjoy them as much— at least, not to the degree that they have been. but they’ve all been #1s, and more impressively to me, they’ve all broken through into wider pop culture in a way that’s super hard to do nowadays. like can you tell me what’s #1 right now because i can’t. but anyways i think she’ll be following what she wants to hear a little bit more, and trusting that her and the general public’s taste is pretty aligned at the moment. so like, to boil it down into a bingo card prediction, the lead single is going to be taylor’s favorite song on the album

also, bingo square, the color will be white. no evidence just vibes

i think another thing taylor recently learned is trusting that not only her fanbase, but the wider pop landscape would accept complex ideas delivered with a complex vocabulary. in some ways i think she was really burned by me!— she had been taught that it’s the we are never ever getting back together and shake it offs that you send to pop radio, not the all too wells. and then me! got torn apart (deservedly or not), and then the world shut down and it’s not like she needs to find a tour off her next album so what the hell, let’s take out the immediate hooks and replace it with flowery language. and it was a massive hit! twice! but it’s not the kind of music she wants to make forever. so midnights was an added gamble— can you marry the hooks with the collegiate vocabulary? and you can! anti-hero was her biggest chart success ever! so i expect more dictionary/thesaurus starter pack memes in our future, no matter what genre it’ll end up in

that being said, i think she’ll be staying in pop. i maaaaybe could see a kind of pop rock thing happening— think like, the electric guitar she adds to don’t blame me when it’s preformed live.

regardless i do think she’ll be pulling in more rep influences— i’m not super in the buisness of trying to track down when exactly she’s been re-recording, so this is coming from swiftie brain rot not timeline brain rot, but if i had to guess i would say she was mostly recording rep over the summer and with the occasional ts11 track thrown in as well. but i could be wrong maybe she has three albums recorded. idk. i am very interested in what the rep sounds like though, i think that’ll be the biggest clue to what ts11 will sound like

i’m curious how auto-biographical it’ll be. honestly, i could see taylor creating a single character to inhabit and tracking their story throughout an album, which would parallel the emotions she’s going through, but not the exact situations. but that’s me projecting what i would need to do to process the fucking year she’s been through, and taylor has consistently been saying how much she gets from having people sing back the words thought she must be alone in thinking, so like maybe it’ll be intensely About Her, who knows

as for release, i’m a big post eras tour believer. like i know it’s been said a million times but god how impossible would it be to add another set to that thing. like we might get the announcement and lead single while still on tour, but not a full album

i’m also expecting a more talk-y rollout. i would bet we’re getting a couple of print interviews— not anywhere near 1989 or lover levels, but like, you know. rolling stone, vogue, maybe another time, that kind of thing. and in front of camera stuff too— zane lowe, a bbc live longe, some late night appearances, maybe going on kelly clarkson’s show. and maaaaybe a hot wings episode. maybe. i think taylor got a bit burned by the long roll out for lover, and regardless she had other priorities when it came to the midnights release, but it’s been a while and she does like to surprise people by doing something completely predictable. but also this is totally me being like pleaseeeee give interviews they help me with timeline research so much

i predict this every time but visual album!!! if i keep saying it one day it’ll be true!!! it just makes sense she’s been getting so into directing!!!

while we’re in the realm of things that would make me specifically go insane i just think it would be funny if she got paul mccartney to feature on a song. just to be petty. imagine your ex is releasing an album and she gets one of your favorite musicians to play on it. and after the sweet nothing debacle too. oh. so ouchie. also she would have paul fucking mccartney on an album that’s insane in its own right

while we’re throwing spaghetti at the wall. two word title. let’s get crazy maybe 3+ words why not (this is by far the least serious prediction if the title is more than one word i’ll lose my mind)

maybe some religious imagery for the visuals? i’m trying to think of aesthetics taylor hasn’t thoroughly explored. what’s coming to mind is stained glass windows and like, the wild west. this is not at all influenced by me being raised catholic in the american southwest what are you talking about

so to sum up i think i want a pop rock opera with a title along the lines of “the blank of firstname lastname” about a woman in the wild west that has climatic scenes in a cathedral?? i guess that’s the shape i want?? i was not aware that’s what i wanted when i started writing this post okay

[irkimatsu]

God damn it, that art of Husk literally drowning in whiskey... my fucking heart...

I started talking about Husk's alcoholism and my hopes for its future portrayal and it got long and a little personal, whoops

I would like more focus in canon about his alcoholism, more than quirky "ha ha it's eight in the morning and he's already putting whiskey in his coffee, the silly old drunk". My feelings and history when it comes to alcohol are complicated. I've seen how it destroys people who are in denial about whether they have a problem. Middle schoolers should not have to take care of their wasted relatives whenever the family party has gone to shit again, and don't even get me started on my mother's drunken temper. (She's bad enough when she's sober.) I grew up thinking that sort of thing was normal, that I'd have to avoid alcohol entirely to not end up like my family, and that even then I'd be looked at as a failure of an adult if I didn't get plastered and pass out behind a Walmart somewhere at least once in my life.

So normalization of alcohol in general already tends to get me a little weird, even if I've gotten better about it in the past decade. Still not a fan of quirky "tee hee, I can't deal with my dumpster fire of a life without wine" Facebook mom memes, but I know responsible alcohol consumption is possible, which is more progress than I had as a teenager.

But even then, Husk is not responsible. He has a problem. He's traumatized, I do not blame him for that, and like Angel, he's seeking comfort in substance abuse because he has no easy way out of the main source of his stress. They have made some allusion to it being a problem and him knowing it - "You're not going to find answers at the bottom of a bottle, I've been looking for a long time" - but I want more focus on it. Call attention to the fact that making an alcoholic spend all day behind a bar is an awful idea, and possibly intentional on Alastor's part to keep him too drunk to fight back. (Between the alcohol and winning his soul in gambling, preying on Husk's vices really does seem to be Alastor's Thing.) Make note of the fact that unlike Angel's drug addictions, alcohol use is so normalized that Husk couldn't quit if he tried - how is he supposed to, with everyone else in the hotel drinking regularly? Charlie and Vaggie can drink as much as they want, but Husk takes one shot and suddenly he's the bad guy? I can see that not sounding fair in his mind, because he's ignoring the fact that everyone else knows when to quit for the night...

And what if he did try to quit? How is he going to deal with it? The stress he can no longer drown, the withdrawal symptoms? Like with Angel, if you take away the unhealthy coping mechanism but don't do anything to help him with what he's unhealthily coping with, you're just going to make his mental state worse... I get the feeling he's been drunk for so long he barely remembers who he was when sober, he doesn't know how to be sober anymore, it might freak him out to adjust to being what feels like a different person, his whole mind working differently than it has in decades when it's no longer clouded by drink...

Alastor might not like his tamed little pet going sober, either. If he's thinking clearly, he might have silly thoughts about things like how to save himself. That won't do. Drink some whiskey, Husker, it makes you much easier to handle.

...this got longer and more rambly than I intended. I just want to see more of Husk's mental state, more than "ha ha quirky drunk". Really get into his mind, his trauma, what it would take to save him, to convince him it's worth trying to save himself.

And maybe I just like seeing him suffer a little.

[astralleywright]

Orympost I dare you. Consider me the sick fuck egging you on

me reading this ask

ok so. i love Orym so much and I truly have too many thoughts abt him to be contained in one post so let's just start with the trauma, the thing that defines Orym not just as a character but also discursively. this discussion often feels very surface level, not much more than a simple acknowledgment that Orym is sad bc dead family. which is a shame, bc the thing that really strikes me about Orym's grief is not simply that he has it but how deeply it has shaped him, consumed him. the death of his family often gets used as a reason no one should ever challenge him on anything ever, which is an incredibly unproductive and unhealthy way to view trauma, and also obscures the much more compelling and poignant truth; Orym is absolutely not handling his trauma productively or healthily. i have made a meme to further express my feelings on the matter.

so, i remember quite well the first time i watched Orym's resurrection in episode 34.

when he sees Will in the afterlife and says, the most sincere he's ever sounded (and he is so sincere all the time), "I really wish I could stay." and in that moment i realized; oh, Orym would rather be dead right now. Orym would rather be dead right now, because it would mean he got to be with Will and Derrig.

another moment i think about a lot: when he's talking with Uther, a member of the Gorgynei, in episode 42, about naming his sword and about their times traveling, and Uther says: "it's nice to have a home finally, after traveling for a long time. i hope you and your friends can find a home, or return to the ones you have."

and Orym says: "I'll think of a name [for his sword]."

it's a fun kind of synergy that Orym is a dex based character who is also, emotionally, so slippery and avoidant. always deflecting. he's defined by his steadfastness in battle and his stubborn refusal to change outside of it. it's notable how stagnant Orym felt, as a character, up until the Issylra arc. very intentionally so; he's likely been in a state of paralysis for much of the last 6 years. he really wishes he could stay. i don't think he's accepted that he can't.

or that there's reasons not to: of all of the many Orym moments i think about all of the time, the one i think about by far the most is his conversation with the Wildmother, all the way back in EXU, when she tells him, so lovingly:

"There is so much I would have you see."

that, more than anything, is the line that defines Orym to me. you can see glimpses of it, in his love for the Hells, his amazement when he's dancing with the spirits or watching Ashton blow 200 gold gambling; on the other hand, in his refusal to really engage with the gods debate (as stated by Liam himself) or his continued discomfit with some of his friend's oddities. there is so much world, so much beauty, so much love still out there for Orym to experience, if he would simply let himself. revenge is nice, i hope he gets it, but it will simply never be enough. it will not give him the capacity to love fully again, and if he gets the revenge and not the love he will end up empty, hallowed out, leading a life always wishing he could be somewhere else.

right now he's regressing, reduced down to nothing but that painful wound, abandoning even so much of his kindness and reason. the hells can help, and they should and they will, because they have so much love to give. but Orym will have to open himself up to it, to them, first. i really hope he does!!

[bouquetface]

I hope you’re fine and I’m your new follower here.. I wanted to ask something about Aries cuz I’m not able to get these mixed signals of him..

Additional information :- Pisces Rising (Venus and Mercury), Scorpio Moon and Cancer Mars

So there’s my classmate, he joined school in July 2022. I thought to take interest in him by observing him everyday. He seemed mysterious. In August, I lost interest in him but during the same time, I presented a science activity in front of the class. He was watching me. And the next day, he started stealing glances at me. His friends used to nudge his elbow to make him see whenever I did something. In 2023, the next day after my birthday, he sent me a follow request on Instagram. I accepted it. We started chatting the next day. He gave a heart to all my messages. In April, for library period, he would watch me while I read the book or make eye contact with me longer. If I join his eye contact, he wouldn’t avert his gaze from me. When I get a little shy, I would stop making eye contact with him but he would still watch me. Whenever we talked to each other in class, he blushed. In May, there was an anonymous account about our school meme page. After some time, that person started using pics of me and argued that it’s bad to use them. That person told me that I’m attention seeking and said some few curse words to me. After few days, I got to know that person was that boy the whole time. He apologised on the chat. We got called to principle office and he got worried about me. And there was other bullying too as my senior bullied me so the boy felt sorry for me and asking that if I’m okay. And after few months, And every time I return to my class, after doing something, he would be the first person to look at me, sometimes blush and smile at me like the old times. And he still does in 2024, not bullies me again.

Hello,

I hate to be negative because I think you may like him. However, If I am to be honest, he sounds very immature.

An immature aries sun often has to be dealt with the same way you’d treat a child. They can be impulsive and directionless. And they can be bullies since they can be selfish and not realize when their playing around has gone too far.

A mature aries is straight forward and goes for what they want. Not a single aries I have ever known sends mixed signals. They are a no bullshit sign when they are serious. It’s my favourite trait about them. And they are deeply protective when they do care.

Truthfully, to me your description indicates, he is childish and playing around with you. He is not mature enough to take you seriously. Him and his friends may be playing some stupid game, finding the situation funny.

Aries is ruled by mars. His mars in cancer means he has a debilitated mars. Mars does not do well in cancer. Mars is the enemy of the Moon, cancer is naturally ruled by the Moon. This means his Aries house & Mars will not function as they should. Mars is a warrior, the planet should be able to be a go-getter. Assert themselves, be bold & clear, take action.

In Cancer, mars struggles to make these choices. The planets fiery nature is being drowned in the watery nature of cancer. This can make one an angry crier, hypersensitive, and defensive. A lot of this occurs in private as they do not like confrontation.

If he’s a pisces rising, Mars rules his 2nd House. He could make poor financial choices throughout his life. As his cancer mars will be in the 5th, making it likely he is reckless with money. He may even grow a liking to gambling.

Mars cancer people are not doomed though. They will have some bad experiences but can learn from it. For him, his pisces placements along with an immature aries placement, will likely make him pity himself. He will feel a victim of many things in the world. He will likely struggle to accept his self destructive ways. He will need to make the choice to change himself. This may not come until much later in life. A lot of astrology in our charts will not resonate until a much later age as it has to be activated/developed through experiences.

However, I am not you, I don’t live your life. Nor, do I personally know him. I am only reading this off the placements & experiences with him you have sent in.

You do know him so if you feel this doesn’t resonate with his true character, disregard this as nonsense. Either way, I hope you found this somewhat helpful.

[dianight]

I've done a reread of dunmeshi from chapter 52 (where the anime ends) and we just got confirmation that season 2 has started production.

A minor thought: it will be as good (if not better) than everyone insists it is. It is going to be annoying, but it's a good story and the praise is deserved.

Other thoughts, with spoilers:

Kabru is actually right in that the world ending was his fault for not letting Mithrun kill Thistle. While his reasoning at the time was solid, banking on Laios like that was a massive gamble.

We never see the demon eat Marcille's desire to arrange her hair, no doubt a tasty meal... So I wonder what other "minor" desires he could have eaten off her or Thistle.

All demons are part of the same being (hardly a being, more like a force of nature or even a concept) and they share memories yet are different individuals.

Even while in mortal danger, Laios never stopped trying to understand the demon to find a way to overcome it. They were just that delicious huh?

Thistle dying(?)/completely giving up is what lifts the spell that sunk the kingdom. I always assumed he dies right there, but a poll about who could be his caretaker after the story made me check to make sure and it's not confirmed. He just doesn't need anything anymore...

Marcille did nothing wrong. I know it sounds like a meme but given the circumstances it was literally impossible to get any other outcome. It was her or Laios.

After the demon eats Thistle desire to live (?) (the big one that looks like some manysided crystal) he grows in size from a goofy face to the form he keeps the rest of the series.

Just like the goat with Mithrun, eating Thistle alone was actually not enough to break through the dungeon and reach the surface.

The panel after Marcille carries everyone's corpses inside after fighting the rabbits and she lays down crying is heartbreaking. Did you even stop to think about what it would be like for me to be surrounded by everyone's dead bodies...? Her literal worst nightmare made real.

If all demons share their memories, is getting one of them enough to stop all others? Or do they now know their own weakness? Can anyone else even digest, let alone eat their hunger?

I'd like to see a sequel where Izutsumi goes beat up the sorcerer that transformed her.

Chapter 87 remains the best one in the series.

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ SAINTS BLOOD by SEBASTIEN DE CASTELL / ch10 - ch18 always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

'three against thirteen is terrible odds.'

'i wouldn't know. i've never had that much money.'

'you'll try to kill me, of course.'

'then you'll be dead /and/ embarrassed.'

'i know it isn't your usual approach, but i'd suggest you consider surrender.'

'the last time i surrendered to someone they tortured me until there was almost nothing left of me.'

'there's always luck. and red, bloody rage.'

'you're killing her.'

'i'm not sure if you've noticed but the bad men here are pointing weapons at us.'

'i really need to find a new job. one that doesn't involve swords.'

'you don't reason with mobs for the same reason you don't reason with hordes of fire ants: they're too stupid to understand what you're saying and eventually they'll just swarm over you.'

'try not to get torn to pieces.'

'this is what you do, you know.'

'you throw yourself into fights you have no real chance of winning.'

'it's the only thing i know how to do that ever works.'

'it's a /staff/, not a stick.'

'say there, friend, why exactly have you chosen to tie that nice fellow to a post?'

'you would attack an unarmed man?'

'that was a remarkably foolish gamble.'

'something you need to see, going to make your day a whole lot worse.'

'so how long have you been riding around with a corpse strapped to your horse?'

'help me get the ropes off, will you? my hands are still too numb; i was tied up for hours.'

'i just didn't have any faith any more.'

'he was, in fact, a son of a bitch.'

'he's a little slow sometimes, but he usually gets there in the end.'

'would someone /please/ tell me what we're talking about so i can decide if i care?'

'she wants to speak with you and that is the only gift left that either of us can give her now.'

'we pray in the shadows that we may summon the light.'

'well, i'd sort of had my heart set on an extended discussion of just how terrible you look, but if you insist, we can move straight on to how bad you smell.'

'now i remember why i liked you.'

'see, when you put it that way i don't sound very clever.'

'his desires cannot abide mercy. he will destroy it unless you stop him.'

'i suspect he despises a great many things.'

'the only thing the gods ever call any of us is fools.

'are you too busy sleeping with men for money to bring me some tea?'

'there are still things worth saving.'

'i would have spared you this if i could.'

'do not touch me with those hands, those hands of violence — hands meant only for holding swords and shedding blood.'

'you know i could kiss you right now, don't you?'

'oh well. i've been cursed plenty of times in my life and nothing too bad's happened yet, right?'

'"arsehole" is a terrible name for any beast.'

'your nervous griping is taking all the fun out of this trip.'

'maybe if we found you a proper weapon you wouldn't feel quite so scared all the time.'

'of course you'd rather sleep out in the cold.'

'i hear the call of music, a soft bed, women and, most importantly, beer.'

'you can /hear/ the beer?'

'and here i thought you were on a mission to get drunk and bed the local schoolteacher.'

'i can do more than one thing at a time. i'm ambidextrous.'

'how about, instead of pining here in your little room, you go down there and be a fucking man for a change?'

'go ahead and tell me what's wrong with me.'

'of course some of it's real. i mean, it's a giant pain in the arse, so it has to be real.'

'walk in like a man, mind you, not some shade of the long dead.'

'if you're both so fucking cursed then i'm sure lightning will strike you down.'

'dancing. well there's a tactic that never occurred to me.'

[ronmanmob]

How Many Shots Would It Take You to sleep with Lieutenant Riley?

How Many Shots Meme

There were a couple'a things about Ron's situation that saved Pat Connolly's life when he asked - half way to having a skin full and only when most everyone else round the room had been subjected to their motley crew's version of Would You Rather - how much Ron would have to drink to go bed with their own Leftenant Riley. Their setting was one of 'em. The lads - Ron, Pat, Riley and Sam - had come upon a gem of a live jazz-come-swing performance and were ensconced front row round a table. The air may as well have simmered with the band's bassy rasp and Ron, about as carried away by it as the music man among 'em, just didn't have the pointed focus to level Pat with anything like the daggers he would've outside such congenial climes. That said music man had his arm round the back of Ron's chair helped matters too, and that was before even a glance was given to the publican's ABV.

So Pat asked.

And he did not die.

The question caught Ron jiving, a riff rolling up his spine like fingertips; making him shudder pleasurably the way only absolutely killer music could. It knocked a laugh free, pinned his attention on his mate across the table for a heavy second before the moment broke, the tension broke and he was all easy animation and affable charm.

"---Righ'...lissen" Ron said, whiskey's purr cut through his voice as he leant a hint left and confided more to Riley than to Pat - much as the latter could still hear him. "Lissen, I'm anyb'dy's aftah a couple'a Long Island Iced Teas, yeah? So if i's in y'want luv, tha's th'ticket." A rattle of laughter, low and smoky for all he was wanting for a fag like nothing else right this second, came up when he paused a half second. Then, straightening a bit to include Pat and Sam in his opinion-giving, Ron added,

"Fink th'fairer question's 'ow much this'n 'ere-", he nodded to Riley, "w'd need t'drink t'wanna take ME t'bed." Another beat of laughter bought a lopsided smirk up on his lips. "Bettin' is I'd be able t'light 'is sweat on fire b'fore then, so le's not giv 'im no ideas, aye Pat?"

His soused bodyguard and long-time pal threw his head back laughing at that notion, and Ron watched him - his smirk still lingering on his lips for all it'd started to dim. Ron didn't look round at Riley to see if he was laughing too. He let the music carry him off again instead; got caught up in the sound of it all and put Pat's joking bullshit out of mind. It was only when he settled back in his seat again that he clocked Riley'd not moved his arm away; that he'd not moved away at all for that matter. And that, more than most else, was what saved Pat Connolly's life.

Ron had warned him more than once about shit-mouthing in the direction of Him And Riley. Man knew what he was risking - knew Ron would find him if his fuckery cost him a friendship. He'd gambled this evening, at least to Ron's mind. And he'd won. But the house was never far off from looting back its take'a winnings, so they'd have a chat - Ron and Pat - come the morn.

@tarnishedhalo

[theotherwesley]

Title meme: the necklace with seven jewels

WIP snip from a strange little horror story that came to me in a dream, still much under revision.

---

And when she was alone with herself and her plainness, a drab dun bird in a drab dun nest, she thought about her handsome trader, setting out his enticing wares in port after port, dazzling all who met him in distant cities filled with other, dazzling people. If the trade-winds drift, or the trade-routes shift, she thought, what will keep my trader coming back to me? What have I got, that he could not find better in a thousand, thousand others? She looked at her home, and doubt filled her. She looked to her mirror, and fear filled her. 

Now on the edge of the plain town where she lived, there was an old, dry well that had not been in service for many years. It lay open and uncovered, choked with ivy, the disused bucket still hanging from its rusted chain. Sometimes when the wind blew, the old well told secrets– this was known. 

So it happened one day, on the doorstep of winter, when the faire had ended and the colorful stalls were packed away and the trader waved farewell from the deck of a ship, the plain girl wandered out past the town, beyond the rubbish heap and old middens, and up the hill to the old well, where she sat on the stones and wept. She could not bear to go back to her empty house, her vacant bed, and her cold, cruel mirror. So she stayed sitting on the well as the sun set, and the air grew chill, and the night winds began to blow. 

Why are you crying? the well asked.

 “My house is empty, my bed is vacant, and my mirror is cruel,” the plain girl replied, her eyes stinging with cold, “my lover is handsome, and I am plain. Someday he will surely leave me.” 

You are plain and he is handsome. Someday he will surely leave, echoed the well. Look down, and tell me what you see.

The plain girl wiped her eyes and leaned over the wall, and just then, the moon rose like a bright silver coin, tossed into the sky for a gamble. In the hard and colorless light, she could see her own shadow, her silhouette cast down, down in the wet, black mud of the well, and there, just on the edge of it– something glittered.

“I see my shadow. I see a pale glimmer.”

Send down my bucket, said the well, and the plain girl did. The chain rattled and clattered against the stones, but the bucket made no sound when it reached the damp earth at the bottom, as though it had been caught. 

Something tugged upon the chain, and she pulled it up, length by length. In the bucket, covered with black water, was a necklace of shining silver. It was like lace, like a spider’s web in moonlight, with seven, empty frames woven in. 

Wear this necklace, and do not show it. Each time you meet, say to him ‘you do not love me’. You must say it five times, and for every five, he must answer ‘I do love you’. When he does, a piece of his heart will stay with you, to keep and wear forever as a jewel.

“And what will happen when the necklace is set all with jewels?”

Then you will have his whole heart, and he will never leave you, said the well, and a cloud darkened the moon, and the night winds ceased to blow.    

The plain girl walked home, and clasped the empty silver necklace around her throat. 

When next they met at the market, she wore a plain spun scarf under her chin, so that nothing glittered, and nothing was revealed. The tents and stalls around them were full of color, her trader was more handsome and dear to her than ever, and in the crowd every face more beautiful than hers drove a splinter into her heart. 

You do not love me, she said thrice to him, though she did not think it true, and did not wish it to be true, but only feared one day it would be so. And though puzzled by her sorrow and more so her accusation, he answered “But I do love you. I do. I do!” You do not love me, she said twice again, and gently he replied, “I do love you, I do.” 

Around her throat, she felt the necklace sag, and swing a little lower, heavier by one-seventh.

[nephrastar]

Honestly convinced that, barring maybe tumblr, bigwig social media has collapsed damn near all of my social circles.

All this shit about figuring out the algorithm, all this shit about analytics, SEO, about view time, about follower count... I just fucking hate it all now. Social media basically turned the internet from a wild west with pockets of peaceful and interesting communes to a monolithic walled city where the only thing that matters is numbers. And if you get big numbers, congrats you get to be famous!! But only if you can keep those numbers going.

And let me tell you from personal experience-- 9 times out of 10, when you post something to social media at "the right time of day" with the intent of getting some clout, your post just... Does not get clout, most of the time.

Any post that goes viral is a benefactor of circumstance. In my almost 20 years of being on the internet, the one and only thing I've ever posted that went viral was a shitpost on Twitter of me memeing on a restaurant because they had a tip limit on their app and they along with many other food and adjacent companies were being criticized for not paying their employees a living wage. This was in 2022. Last year. I learned nothing from having hundreds of thousands of likes and retweets, and have not had anything nearly as popular since. I promoted my art Twitter in the replies, but you wanna know what that did?

Absolutely FUCKING NOTHING. I didnt make any money as a result of piggybacking that viral tweet. I didn't have people clamoring for what i had to offer. And it was then when I realized that getting big numbers anywhere will ultimately amount to jack and shit. And Jack had long since left town.

That may sound like i was upset that i didnt become internet famous overnight. I honestly wasn't, but there's a point to be made here-- the chances of your platform becoming big and internet famous are about as good as your acting landing you a breakout role in a Hollywood film. You're competing with hundreds of hours worth of content per second on most platforms, and depending on the site, their algorithm, which may or may not be controlled by real life humans.

Nobody can know for certain what types of videos will be hits on YouTube anymore. not even YouTube staff know what will be hits anymore because their algorithm is a machine learning AI, and creating any content at all with the intent of beating the algorithm or making faceless computers happy will lead to burnout. And when that content doesn't make the big numbers, you're probably going to feel like it's your fault when it's really not. this goes for any social media site that uses similar methods to "curate" their user's site experience.

And I've seen far too many people i know fall into this trap, which may as well be gambling. Getting good numbers so you can get that nice dopamine hit. Then maybe you hit a jackpot. Then you're just outright delighted. So you do the same thing you did before. But it doesn't make big numbers this time. Was it something you did? Ah well. Post again. Nothing. You adjust how you post and when to post. Maybe what to post, even. But still... Your content isn't doing well. You may as well be playing slots at a casino, except instead of losing thousands of dollars you're losing time. Time that, honestly, would've been better spent doing something you legitimately like to do.

The way i see it, make content like the algorithm doesn't exist-- make videos infodumping about your special interest like view counts dont matter, draw art and post it with the same energy a 5 year old has when they show off their macaroni art to their parents. Make the music you want to hear played during a thunderstorm.

Make the content that you want because you like the idea of it existing. At the end of the day, that content is FOR YOU! It has value because you poured your passion and love into it, and no amount of Algorithms or influencer courses or viral content will ever change that. And if that does eventually lead to you being notable and successful, then congratulations! You have a large audience that's cheering you on and encouraging you to do what you love.

[carnivoraformes]

@bishonenprince asked, "2. How did you get into this franchise/fandom?

11. Are there some things you dislike about how the show/series/etc. portray the character you have picked up? If so, what? - ( Aventurine )

17. Are there any ships you can’t stand, why?"

canon questionare. || Status: Accepting

How did you get into this franchise/fandom?

Already answered here!

Are there some things you dislike about how the show/series/etc. portray the character you have picked up? If so, what? - ( Aventurine )

//At the expense of sounding like someone that really loves angst to much I do honestly think that they should have put more emphasis on Aventurine's gambling addiction or at least made it clear that this man is addicted to gambling.

And no I don't mean they glamorize it or romanticize it, but it feels like saying 'oh well he is just really lucky' and 'is a paranoid lunatic that plans for everything' is covering up 'oh well he has a gambling addiction and somehow hasn't managed to fuck up badly enough to realize how big his problem is' (which is really saying something) and to avoid blatant spoilers I will say that I personally feel that he is one of those addicts that won't stop until it kills him.

This is just my opinion and I'm sure it will eventually somehow blow up on a much grander scale eventually but it is kind of part of the reason I like the idea of writing my Aven as joining the Family after failing his mission because I want to write the idea he gambled hard and it finally blew up in his face and because honestly if he did succeed how would he feasibly top this? Like this would probably be his magnum opus. Like how would you top this?

Are there any ships you can’t stand, why?

//I like to generally think I am pretty chill when it comes to ships. I have the usual icks but I don't honestly see most ships between consenting adult muses as problematic or wrong or something worth hating UNLESS it is romanticizing abuse, stalking or anything sick like that.

That said one ship I absolutely despise that I keep seeing on A03 is fucking Jing Yuan/Yanqing and Sunday/Robin and I'm just like 'what the absolute fuck is wrong with you, you sorry sick fucks?' I have yet to not see it on tumblr because I'm pretty sure they would probably get scorned by the general fandom on tumblr (or at least they do in the corner I exist in) but for fuck's sake why does anyone think that is okay?

But also I won't say I can't stand it but I am probably 1 of the 3 people that doesn't like Robin/Boothill. Like it seems fun but... I just don't see it. The fanart looks great and I'm happy for ya'll and all the fucking memes people are coming up with is fucking gold but it isn't a ship I'd write seeing as I write Robin as a lesbian and that isn't a flexible thing for me.

But I can't talk to much shit about Robin/Boothill because I ship Wriothesley/Jean.

[unforth]

For the meme thing Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi (from Thousand Autumns) playing chess, please?

Hi anon! You don't need to tell me who they are, Yanshen is one of my top five otps rn! I love that old gremlin and his boytoy, lmao.

(Qian Qiu, Yanshen, post-canon I guess?)

"Oh ho, looks like I've lost..." And, saying this, Yan Wushi stands up, his hands going to the belt holding his outer robes closed.

"What are you doing?" Shen Qiao knows better than to ask. Engaging with Yan Wushi's antics is the surest way to ensure he escalates. But he's unable to stop himself before the strangled question emerges. That's even worse - his tone will convince Yan Wushi that Shen Qiao is affected.

(Shen Qiao is definitely affected by the glimpse of under robe and pale skin beneath that's revealed by Yan Wushi's in-progress disrobing, but Shen Qiao wishes he hadn't revealed that he was affected.)

"Exactly what I said I'd do," Yan Wushi says smugly. "Remember the rules?"

"Of weiqi? Obviously I remember. I just defeated you..."

"Indeed you did. But do you truly not recall what I said when we began this game?"

Frowning, Shen Qiao replays the afternoon in his mind. They hadn't seen each other for a while, and after catching up over tea, Yan Wushi had pulled a weiqi board and a bag of qizi from his qiankun sleeve and suggested they play a game. Shen Qiao had agreed, and Yan Wushi had said...

Our usual rules, yes?

Not "the" usual rules; very specifically "our" usual rules.

Shen Qiao's frown deepened. "What are 'our' usual rules?"

"Tsk, tsk. Your memory must be playing up again."

Stop engaging, stop engaging, stop engaging... but it's so hard to enforce that stricture on himself when Yan Wushi has his belt fully undone and has let it drop to the ground, when his purple outer robes are hanging loosely over his powerful figure. "Should I prepare the board to play again?" is the closest Shen Qiao can get to distancing himself from Yan Wushi's behavior.

"I'll have to make sure I defeat you this time," Yan Wushi says thoughtfully. "I'd much prefer to see you disrobe than to do so myself."

The mental castigation imploring that he end this discussion is useless. "Why should I disrobe?" Shen Qiao asks.

"Because of the rules," explains Yan Wushi as if his emphasis clarifies everything.

And then he clarifies nothing.

Shen Qiao knows that Yan Wushi is trying to force him to ask. Shen Qiao absolutely does not want to ask. But Yan Wushi has now shrugged his shoulders, has now dislodged the purple to slip down his arms and pool about his narrow waist, is now leering at Shen Qiao daring him to react.

What choice, really, does Shen Qiao have?

If he asks, he'll have fed into Yan Wushi's shenanigans, and Yan Wushi will continue to remove his clothing in the most alluring way he can.

If he doesn't ask, he won't know, and Yan Wushi will continue to remove his clothing in the most alluring way he can.

Shen Qiao lost this so-called "game" the moment he agreed to play by "our usual rules" without clarifying what Yan Wushi meant by that.

"What rule?" asks Shen Qiao, resigned.

(Sometimes, resigning to whatever Yan Wushi has in store for Shen Qiao ends up infuriating; other times, it ends up delightful; still others it ends up...well, it ends with them in bed together. Shen Qiao still hasn't decided if that's infuriating or delightful but he also hasn't made much effort...any effort...to put a stop to it, so...)

"Well, a loser must lose something, correct?" Fortunately, Yan Wushi continues without expecting Shen Qiao to confirm that. "I'd never ask an honor daozhang such as yourself to gamble for mere money, so the stakes are one lose, one garment discarded." As if to emphasize his statement (probably to emphasize his statement), Yan Wushi let the robe fall completely from one arm, snagged the hem briefly with the other hand, then let it fall to the ground. Rich purple silk flowed about his feet like water.

"We've never discussed that." Shen Qiao tries not to sound like he's grumbling, but he can't repress a sigh.

"We did." There's a twinkle in Yan Wushi's eye and yes, damn him, he's got Shen Qiao completely ensnared. "The first time you and I played weiqi, I offered the stakes, you demurred at the time, suggesting that perhaps another time would be better."

"The first time? When I had amnesia?"

"I assumed that was because you were blind at the time," Yan Wushi continues, nodding thoughtfully, "the potential allure of stripping was presumably lost on you at the time." He stretches suggestively, and Shen Qiao would give a lot to be able to pretend there was no allure to the movement, no allure to Yan Wushi. "Our rules, yes?"

Yan Wushi gestures at the board, an invitation, a trap.

Shen Qiao heaves another sigh. "Fine..."

-

Hours later, they're lying entangled on Yan Wushi's bed; Yan Wushi is completely naked, Shen Qiao yet fully clothed. Being garbed in layers of robes did nothing to protect him from Yan Wushi's advances, though, and now they're both hot and sated. Shen Qiao lies atop Yan Wushi; his legs straddle Yan Wushi's hips, and Yan Wushi's arms encircle his back.

(If he'd wanted to protect himself, he would have.)

(He didn't want to protect himself.)

(He doesn't need to protect himself, not from Yan Wushi, not anymore.)

A deep, sinful chuckle interrupts the quiet evening afterglow. Yan Wushi lifts a hand, drawing patterns over Shen Qiao's back; with the fabric separating them, his touch feels far too distant, but Shen Qiao can't bring himself to move however much he'd like to feel skin on skin.

And then he realizes.

"You lost on purpose, didn't you..." Shen Qiao sits up enough to glare an accusation at Yan Wushi, and he's met immediately with a confirming smirk.

"I win," Yan Wushi announces.

Anger bubbles through Shen Qiao's mind, struggles toward expression...and then dissipates into nothing.

It's not like Shen Qiao had any actual complaints about how the day had gone. "We both win," he says.

Yan Wushi shakes his head. "No, definitely me. I got you."

That he does. Shen Qiao can't even explain how or why, but Yan Wushi does have him, and while he can't imagine Yan Wushi would ever admit it...Shen Qiao has him, too.

"You win," allows Shen Qiao graciously.

He can let Yan Wushi have this one.

*

As soon as I got this prompt I kinda knew it'd end up being a prequel to my first previous Yanshen ficlet, "A Game of His Own Devising." That one is Yan Wushi pov...and Shen Qiao finally gets to win. :D

Also, I started this ficlet yesterday morning; I wsa like 80% sure that Shen Qiao played weiqi in the donghua, but it's been so long since I watched it that I couldn't remember for sure and I was like "fuck it, I'm just gonna roll with it." But then yesterday evening I (finally) started reading vol. 1 of the official English translation...and Yan Wushi actually plays weiqi against Yan Shengyuan in the early chapters! So I'm feeling like I nailed it. I hope you're okay with me using weiqi instead of literal (western) chess, anon...

Anyway, I've only got one more ficlet prompt left (it's for Destiel...). Want a ficlet, especially for a danmei or cnovel fandom I'm in? Drop me an ask!

[tragedicna]

@aghostics  /  forgotten meme.

❛   take a gamble that love exists, and do a loving act. ❜

            ❝  what does that mean  ??  ❞  ⸻  confusion clouds the bright blue eyes that look back at the elder  ,  whatever artyom just said to him was . . . mind — boggling  .  what is the other trying to tell him  ??  of course love exists . . . his mom loves him  ,  and he loves his grandfather . . . so whatever does the other mean  ??  this is so confusing . . . he knows artyom is trying to teach him something about life  ,  but must he do it in such a confounding way  ??  he doesn't get it  .             ❝  if i love my mom and my mom loves me . . .  ❞  feliks begins to sound out his child like thoughts  ,  ❝  and i love you  ,  ❞  feliks says  ,  using his chubby fingers to list off the people in his life  ,  he hesitates  ,  head snapping upwards to look at artyom  .  ❝  do you love me  ,  grandpa  ??  ❞  he asks  ,  suddenly unsure  .  what if this was artyom's way of telling him that grandpa no longer loves him  ??               ❝  do you not want to be with me anymore  ,  grandpa  ??  ❞  feliks asks  ,  insistent now  .  desperate to know  .

[jonathanxmk]

⸻ the coffee trap.

📍 : brown brew coffee ╱ after class — 𝄞 ⤷ with @doyunmk

responding to a message from one (1) lim doyun was always a gamble. aside from the god-awful memes the other sent, there was always some sort of "trap" set up at his expense. the words seemed harmless, 'meet me at bbs @ 4', but for jonathan it was a set-up for his social downfall. while, yes, this was one of his closest friends—the first one he ever made at lumera, honestly—the person he befriended was a venus flytrap for the non-social. and he was the fly who couldn't resist coffee if his life depended on it. a vicious cycle, he thinks, as he gently deposits juno on his bed and heads out of his dorm.

brown brew wasn't far, thankfully, the walk easy despite the navigating of bodies he had to get around to make way there. he knew this was only the first stop of the excursion, anyway—he wouldn't be out of doyun's metaphorical trap until almost curfew despite how valiantly he opposes. he presses the pads of the headphones closer to his ears as the sounds pick up, humming to drown out the sound to calm himself as he briskly makes way into the plaza. he spots doyun through the window before the other spots him, hair a beacon under the florescent lights that anyone could make out. the chime signals his arrival, but he slides up besides his friend anyway. he doesn't give a proper greeting, never has, but he does move close enough into his vicinity to allow doyun to latch as he was prone to.

still, he knew this was doyun's way of hanging out, all under the guise of luring jonathan into sense of false security. unfortunately, offering caffeine to a addict will make him fold in record time. "you're paying," comes the soft murmur to the elder, fox-like eyes scanning the menu with ease—as if he wasn't going to order the same thing he always did. on doyun's dime, of course. "a black c-coffee... and..." he fumbles as he makes eye contact with the girl behind the counter, shifting it away and titters on, "a tiramisu. uh, please." a part of him wished he had his companion with him to tuck into his shirt like usual. anything to help ease the the discomfort of being perceived. to distract from how he could still somehow hear the buzz of the florescent lights though his headphones.

"i'll find us a table," he quickly mumbles, turning on his heel and quickly shuffling away with a nervous gait. the one he picks is furthest away from everyone, quiet enough that he feels secure in slowly slipping the headphones from his ears with a soft sigh. it was getting harder, he realized. dealing with the noises. he could do this, though: hanging out. he could sacrifice the discomfort for a while... especially for a friend.

[dont-call-me-algernon]

Hello, hello! For an ask meme I saw you post. . .

🎵for falsepretensesshipping, please! :)

(In case it doesn't show, there's a music note there)

In response to this ask meme.

Okay, this will sound very on the nose for pretty obvious reasons but here me out: The Scientist by Coldplay.

(ramblings under the cut because it got LONG)

Specifically, from Colress’ point of view. Even though it’s technically a song about a break-up, the way the lyrics juxtapose several elements having to do with facts, figures, and everything rational and quantifiable with the singer’s feelings is, in my opinion, as close as it gets to his internal monologue coming to the daunting (and perhaps a liiittle bit exciting) realisation that not even he, a man who spent his entire adult life seeking out hard, solid proof for his theories, is incapable of finding satisfying explainations for his own feelings. Special mention goes to this line:

I was just guessing at numbers and figures / Pulling the puzzles apart / Questions of science, science and progress / Do not speak as loud as my heart

Listen, I have yet to find a line in a song that better encapsulates the thought process leading Colress towards the acceptance of his feelings for Grimsley. Because his first, instinctive reaction as soon as he realises something’s up would no doubt be to tackle it as he would any other puzzling phenomenon in his line of work: observation, data collection, objective evidence. Except the deeper he goes, the more he realises that maybe, maybe not everything can be analysed in terms of cause and effect. And, as the song mentions, it’s simultaneously surprisingly easy and incredibly hard to accept for someone like him.

The song also references secrets, past mistakes, and things unsaid which, as I mentioned in a previous ask about this pairing, is one of the, if not THE main element of their dynamic starting out (I mean, it’s right there in the ship name), as well as to running in circles, which is what I’ve always headcanoned them as doing in the very beginning of their acquaintance, when they were still trying to keep a low profile because of their respective pasts (Colress’ affiliation with Team Plasma, Grimsley’s gambling debts/failed E4 career) – trying to get closer to one another out of curiosity, pulling back when they start worrying that they’ve grown too close to what is essentially a stranger who might expose them at the drop of a hat, only to get close once more after realising their current life without the other is incredibly dull, rinse and repeat until they realise they’re in too deep and keeping up the charade is pretty much useless.

The only “complaint” I have is that the instrumentals are perhaps too mellow and sad to reflect the vibe this pairing has for me, I guess, but the lyrics make up for it.

Anyway, thanks for the ask!!

[dcwnthercbbithcle]

❓

Two truth and one lie meme || ACCEPTING

" You sly dog, I see where you're going,"

" I'll play game, now, leeeet's see, you want something juicy, eh? Nothing like blah politics and little tidbits? No, no, I know your type, slugger. Let's get a bit wild,"

" You a gambling man? Eh, no, matter. Two truths, one lie, if you can see through the mask," Rubedo raised a pointed finger to tap at the ceramic of his grinning visage, which responded in turn with a dull clink, like champagne glasses over a toast, or perhaps the click of a guillotine's blade sliding into place,

" Drinks are on me! You have my word of a night in paradise without any of the, eh, side effects! " Rubedo couldn't bite back a slight sound of amusement as he spoke, as if the idea of side effects to his paradise were comical, " What was it been that the foundation calls it? Inconvenient mind melting? Getting lost in the sauce? God, take it from me, those pencil pushers have too big an imagination"

" If you guess wrong, though, ehhh, we can figure that out later. Call it a blank cheque, an open favour, nothing between pals, really! You ready? "

" I may have had a slight role to play in the formation of the 'Aristocrats,' heh, less said about them the better, but take my word, they are well worth the price to watch, better than any half-time show, just make sure you're outside of an arms reach, heheh."

" Unfortunately for the other lords, the Rubedo family line won't end with me; I've got many little scions running around in many different realities, raising hell, making their papa proud, heh. "

" Ah, and the anomalies, can't go without them. Now, Dyo is, well, they've had their talents, an eye for art and whatever. Still, they're given far too much credit in spreading our kingdom's delights around like some disease amongst his lovers," Rubedo's expression flickered to that of anguish for a moment, the disgust palpable through each word dripping from the open mouth. Before returning to a slight grin in a little over a moment, its intensity far less than his usual manic air,

" Between you and me. The REAL mind behind the operation, the vision, and the effort it's laid with me. Dyo may have their music and art, but I have an industry. Foundation doesn't even have a fraction of the goods I've peddled out to the uncultured masses, and I have no plans to stop anytime soon.

[luxcruor]

[KISS]: sender cups the receivers face in their hands before drawing them closer for a kiss. / shori

*. SAILOR LOST THE MEME.

Fireworks BOOM and crackle colors across the sky. The sounds of muffled laughter and dishes clattering accompany Shori as she gazes off deck, admiring the city lights. Gran Tesoro, a ship city for gamblers and pirates alike. That was an act the kunoichi herself wasn’t fond of, gambling. It’s all she ever seemed to do, with her feelings, body and very life but, it wasn’t like she knew anything different. The events of that day are on a cruel repeat, the sickening chill that ran up her spine as Tesoro’s power climbed up Zoro’s legs and abdomen, helplessness clawing at her gut as he shouted back at her to escape, the rage that clung behind her chest until she saw him again. Shori was normally so bubbly and social after a mission this big but here she was, alone as the misty breeze of the sea caresses her face. Wood creaks from behind. Shori glances back to the intimidating frame of their first mate. He remembers what she’d said back on the platform, she needed to tell him—- ( oh gods he was here already?! ) Her heart begins to pound shaking her ribs as he asks what she wanted to say. Her mouth opens to silence. She’d hoped her actions spoke loud enough to reach him but then again… this was Zoro. “ YOU— you really don’t know? Even after —-“ shori smiles to herself, he was a genius with swords, greatest swordsman of her generation meanwhile she was —- shori. ( is that enough for him ?? ) Oh gods, the way he watched her? So focused and intent on listening to each word. “ Well, there was a reason i went to get you off that platform out of everyone. i was—- i wasn’t like me while you were gone. i was just anger and agony. before you told me to stay back and it took everything sanji had just to hold me back. Zoro I—- I think I — I know… that, I love you. And..not like a crewmate. I’m sorry if this is sudden or too much i just— ” A pair of strong hands suddenly cradle her face. DOE eyes widen as she gazes up at him. The way his hardened face eased up ever so slightly as her cheeks flushed an illuminating bright pink. “ Zoro..” she breathes out his name as he closes the distance between them. Shori’s eyes widen for a moment before loosing herself in the kiss. Her eyes drift shut as her stomach flips, heartbeat pounding in her ears as she leaps up, wrapping her arms around his neck deepening the kiss. Shori’s mind races as Zoro’s hand travels up her back, holding her secure against him. The sounds of the party fade away and all she knows is Zoro. His lips are much softer than she had guessed… everything else so was rough and hardy.. but , ( @kaizokugaris ) face.. it was different.