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Only Human: Species Bias in Fantasy/Science-Fiction

Let's get the premise for this little essay out of the way now: Humans are Boring. They are the most overused, overemphasized, overdone, overrated race in any fantasy/sci-fi setting. And I'm honestly SO tired of it. And by that I mean, humans, and human-like races, are consistently the primary characters of any story. Dwarves, Elves, Halflings, they're all overdone to death, but Humans? Those other races are generally just derivatives of them anyway and they are constantly placed into the primary focus of any story. Often to its detriment in my mind. We always complain about how we want other perspectives, different heroes, different narratives, but we always default to humans and frankly its gotten stale. For me, it's become even more so the longer this has gone on. So in a follow-up to my entry about Monster-Narratives with Sarah Kerrigan, let's talk about humans and why they're so goddamn boring.

Disclaimer First

I am not saying ALL human characters and ALL human centric stories are boring. I can name many a human character who is compelling and interesting and deep. My problem isn't humans as a central POV, my problem is when given the option in a setting to do ANYTHING and be ANYONE... a story will default to human. Every. Single. Time. And worse yet, they'll even make Non-Human races more human like.

Besides the aforementioned Dwarves, Elves and Hobbits, a lot of alien or fantasy races can end up just being humans with a slightly different coat of paint. You don't need to look any further than a lot of monster girl fiction, which has universally decided that you can just have any human woman put on cat ears or pop out a fox tail or grow some wings and presto chango they're a monster now I guess. It's cosplay, nothing more. No one actually has the dragon BE a dragon i full. They have to look like a human somehow.

And let's be clear here, the reason for this is obvious. Write what you know. Everyone knows how to be human, so it's easier to just WRITE a human. The perspective will ring more true if you know what a human is and can properly depict them. And since everyone is human, everyone at least has an idea of how they're supposed to be. I'm not blaming anyone for going to the default option on this, it makes sense.

But all across media there exists multiple opportunities to actually present a perspective or allow someone to step into the shoes of something that isn't human. That isn't just a derivative of humanity. That is truly foreign to them. Sadly they rarely take the chance and when they do... well, a lot of the times it falls into some bad writing clichés. Before we get into some of the main offenders, let's address one of said clichés of the bat to better understand why human centrism in genre fiction can lead to some terrible ideas.

Planet of Hats

The Planet of Hats is the well-worn concept that alien/fantasy races are monoliths. That every member of a species thinks like each other, acts like each other, builds their society around a singular concept, is entirely devoted to that particular concept, and is forever entrenched in that one state of mind forever. That is the Planet of Hats. You see it manifested in every Warrior Culture or Pacifist Society or Amazon Island or Gangster Planet. An entire people bent to serve a singular overriding "Problem of the Week" scenario to comment on a singular issue. Mostly by going completely overboard with it. And if you want to know the biggest offender of this... well, all those examples I listed come from one single IP who has done at least one iteration of those worlds over its very long life-span.

Sorry guys, it's true and you know it. For all the good Star Trek portends to be, all the progressive ideas it puts forward, for all the social commentary it has added to zeitgeist, one place it consistently falls short in is depicting alien races. How you ask? How is one of the most socially conscious and ethnically diverse franchises in history failing in this regard? Especially considering it has spawned some of the most iconic alien races in all of fiction?

Because as I just pointed out, a lot of their alien races are basically just one note stereotypes. Built around a single idea to create a "Problem of the Week" episode. This has been true as far back as the original series. Which was completely episodic and rarely if ever revisited alien races it ran across. Now of course there are mainstays and they've been fleshed out over the decades, but a lot of that fleshing out has been a result of Star Trek trying to push back on the Planet of Hats problem. And they still don't really address the crux of it.

The best way to explain Star Trek's problem lies in how one alien race was introduced to us, the Ferengi. You know them, the big eared hyper-capitalists who are best known for being the franchise's greedy assholes/Comic Relief. And boy, was their introduction a MESS.

It's fair to say the first two seasons of "The Next Generation" were... bad. As in... awful. "The Last Outpost" is one of those awful episodes where the Ferengi first showed up. Roddenberry, Star Trek's creator, wanted to evolve a lot of the concepts from the original series. The problem was he didn't have anyone to tell him "This doesn't work" The Ferengi were made to replace the dated "America vs Soviets" allegory that a lot of Trek's previous antagonist aliens represented. For Roddenberry, the real danger was unfettered capitalism. Hard to argue with that, problem was the Ferengi weren't a threat.

"The Last Outpost" presents the Ferengi less as an alien race and more like farcical clowns who basically exist to make the Federation (Humanity) look better by comparison. The Ferengi run around the entire episode, acting like unhinged monkeys, while Commander Riker struts about with his superior moral values and beliefs. At no point do the Ferengi resemble a legitimate threat to humanity. They're buffoons, made to present less a commentary on hyper-capitalism and more of a mockery of it. As a result, none of the Ferengi come off as characters, they're caricatures. Silly, nonsensical, idiots who are there to make Picard look righteous and humanity as more evolved.

Now let's not act like Roddenberry was supposed to be fair to the alien race he created to represent the things he hated. But he was supposed to make them a culture and not just strawmen he could beat up for an hour. Hell, decades earlier, he had bothered to give the Nazi Planet more nuance! And that was a planet, as stated, full of Nazis! But even that felt more like a culture than the Ferengi running around like baboons, hooting and hollering as they unconvincingly tried to pull one over on the natives they intended to exploit. Natives that the oh so perfect Federation, embodied by Commander Riker, easily protected by simple human fortitude and stalwart moral fiber.

Of course, years down the line, the Ferengi were finally developed into something that resembled a real civilization instead of punching bag. They actually had a degree of morals, not like the Federation, but they weren't entirely monstrous. Characters like Quark helped immensely in rehabilitating the image of the Ferengi without completely discarding their original characterization. But Star Trek has never really completely abandoned it's human centrism. Nor it's tendency to portray humanity in general as the "Better Way/Only Way."

Because let's be honest here, the Federation is just humanity. Sure other races are in there, work with them, and we are TOLD their customs and beliefs are respected, but be honest. How often have you seen an alien on Star Trek in a Command position? How often are aliens in Star Trek the central character? Has any captain or lead character in any Trek show ever not been a human?

You may point out Spock or Worf, and fair, but Spock is half-human and Worf was raised by humans. They're also not the Captain of the ship of their respective series. Even then, Vulcans and Klingons don't get off so easily. How many times have the Vulcans and their reliance on logic being criticized because they don't express outward emotion like humans? How many times have the Klingons had their culture scrutinized as purely violent? Yes, they've always come back around to highlight the value of their differing perspectives, how their voices at the table are worth listening to, and how there is more to them than just the warrior and hyper-logical. But ultimately, a lot of Star Trek comes back to how each of these alien races REALLY should become more human. Oh the Federation won't FORCE it on them, but they'll just kinda neg them on it. You should really show more emotion, Spock. You should really stop being so war-like, Worf. Be more human, be more sensible, conform! Why don't you conform already?

You might argue that's not the case, but it kinda is. Star Trek will always come around to how if a lot of these alien races were more like the Federation's ideal of humanity, they'd all be much better off. And it all stems from the Planet of the Hats cliché. Which purely exists to give the Federation some problem to preach about and argue against. The Federation won't conquer you to be like them, but they will kinda pressure you to change. And sure, a lot of these cultures could do with reform. But a planet existing purely to be used as a soap box isn't a culture, it's just the Ferengi of "The Last Outpost" again.

I'll sum this section up in terms that were expressed by Chuck Sonnenberg of SFDebris. Star Trek's tendency to put alien races in a box is detrimental to its world building. If Germany was a fictional race in Star Trek, it would be defined by industrial power, a love of war, and expansionist foreign policy coached in racial purity. That even after being defeated, said society would constantly be trying to claw back to its perceived glory days, never changing, just constantly being stuck in its singular mindset for all eternity. The only thing keeping them in check being the Federation of United Planets, mostly dominated by humans, who shake their heads at how awful Germans are for refusing to change and be more like them.

Doesn't that sound stupid? And if the Federation of Star Trek, the epitome of Optimistic Science Fiction, can make such a mistake, how do franchises that aren't so hopeful and cheer faire? Star Trek is an incredibly influential series in genre fiction. It informs a lot about how its done even today. If it can't help but put humans on a pedestal, even though it shouldn't because that's antithetical to its own world-building, how have other IPs faired in that regard?

Well... not good. Not good at all.

Center of Everything

I could list so many examples of humans being positioned as the most important element of any fantasy or sci-fi story. It almost feels redundant. Star Wars generally has humans as its main protagonists. A good deal of Lord of the Rings involves the nations of men being the main bulwark against the forces of Mordor. Earth is basically the most important planet in both Marvel and DC and humanity is the most special of all races out there. How many humans get to be a part of the Green Lantern Corps? Overall, humans are going to be the focus of any story. Even if they exist in a setting where they aren't the only sapient race out there. Humans get to take center stage and lead the plot. Even if they really shouldn't and they aren't supposed to and you know where this going...

I think this is probably the best example I can use to point out how Human Centrism can be a problem. Because I think enough people at this point recognize what went wrong with the live-action Transformers movies. Yeah, I know some folks keep trying to rehabilitate them, I don't care. I'm dying on this hill! They were never that good!

A movie about the Transformers should not be so reliant on the squishy humans that no one ever cared about. A series of dynamic characters who, at the point of the first Bay Movie's premiere, had carried several stories on their own despite not being human! A race of alien robots with intriguing inter-cultural dynamics, opinions, philosophies, so much character and complexity. Sure they were toy commercials at the end of the day, but no one who watched Dinobot's sacrifice in Beast Wars' "Code of a Hero" would be able to deny that the series could not transcend that stigma! The Transformers were always meant to be the center of their franchise, as they rightly should be because they can carry it just fine on their own.

Then Michael Bay showed up and decided to turn the whole series into an extended US Army Recruitment Commercial instead. I think we can all agree Military-Industrial Complex Propaganda is far worse than making kids want to bug their parents for toys. But that's neither here nor there, even if Bay hadn't been jerking off to the US Military in these movies, the problem with them was apparent from moment one. When the films became more about Shia LeBeouf wanting to get laid than the alien robots. The films excessively/progressively revolved around humans and their interactions with the Transformers. They became the primary focus more and more until they essentially took over huge swaths of the plot and narrative. Autobots and Decepticons alike, no matter how important, iconic or well-known, were very casually tossed aside and killed off over the various sequels. And no one really cared because the Transformers on both sides became so highly interchangeable and forgettable that sometimes you could blink and miss them. Remember Arcee? Prominent female autobot? Strangely split into three motocycles for some reason? Murdered to death! With only one line of dialogue!

Oh sure, Optimus and Bumblebee got to be front and center, but mostly because they got to be colors that were just a mess of greys, browns and blacks. That and Optimus is by far the most popular of all the Transformers and the face of the franchise. But if you want an example of humans taking over a narrative to its detriment, Michael Bay's Transformers movies are the singular defining example of just such a problem. And you probably heard the defenses, it gave audiences a anchor point, a relatable view, something they could connect with.

Strange, none of the fans over the years needed humans to help them connect to any of the alien robots that were the main narrative focus of countless tv shows and comics. But I suppose Hollywood Executives know better. When have they ever been wrong, right?

To be honest though, this is nothing new. Science-Fiction especially has always had a problem with positioning humans as ultra-super special. And some people could recognize it for the dangerous prospect of what it was. Issac Asimov noted John W. Campbell's tendency to position humans as the most important or superior race as opposed to others it encountered in fiction. And to Asimov, that also appeared to extend to the smaller scale of reality and Campbell's... well, let's say belief in American Exceptionalism. Asimov didn't like arguing with Campbell, so he tried to avoid using aliens too much.

You can see the problem though, insisting on the exceptionalism of humanity often denotes a general sense of racial/national superiority. There's nothing wrong with rooting for the home team, but not everything should be a competition and humans shouldn't take over every story for themselves. Especially if it isn't their own, like the Transformers. Their franchise is proof enough that humans don't have to be central element to be successful. And yet, until now, most theatrical films felt the need to involve humans in some aspect. And sadly, because of "Transformers One's" not so stellar box office performance, that belief might persist. And it will continue to hamstring the Transformers property like it does with other stories in genre fiction.

Illusion of Choice

Even if this mindset doesn't inherently compromise a story's narrative, it can still kneecap it. The best example of how involves gaming, specifically RPGs. Despite portending that our "choices matter", so often in games they do not. Because, here again, too many franchises decide that the only perspective that matters is one that looks similar to you.

Discounting the many video games that might allow you to be an alien, monster or even just an animal, because they are out there, I feel far too many RPGs can be very limiting. Does Fallout let you pick if you want to be a Ghoul or Super Mutant? No. That's only been a recent development and only for one game and its an MMO. Video games in general, when set in a fantasy or sci-fi world will default to one of the pre-approved human or human-like races, if they present the choice at all. Dragon Age 2 famously hard locked you into being a human despite the last game letting you pick your race. Now you can say that's because they had a set story to tell that needed the characters to be human. But it's still jarring.

And I think there's one instance where BioWare itself had a huge opportunity to change things... but decided they were just going to play it safe.

After three games of playing Commander Shepard, who had to be human because that made the most sense for the story they were telling, BioWare had an opportunity to shake things up. They had a whole new story, not tied to Shepard. A whole new galaxy, again, not tied to Shepard or humanity itself. And they decided to just go with another human character... again. Mass Effect has probably some of the most diverse alien races out there and even now, you can still only play them through multiplayer. The main games? Stuck with human protagonists.

I'll freely admit I probably defend Andromeda more than most Mass Effect fans. Not completely, because it does have a lot of problems, but I admire it for what it was TRYING to do. What I can't forgive is what it didn't even attempt. It could've easily crafted a story that enabled the player to pick whatever race they wanted to play as. Turian, Asari, Salarian or Krogan! Quarians! They could've let us be quarians, but NO! We are always stuck as humans, never given the opportunity to experience this galaxy through any other eyes but human ones! Even when given the perfect opportunity to do so, Andromeda chickens out and just sticks us as an ordinary human again.

It's so painfully sad. And while being given the option to be something other than a human probably wouldn't have fixed the game's other problems, at the very least it would've been looked at as some admirable. As something that tried to expand Mass Effect's unique setting and give more dimension to the aliens it had crafted.

Humans are simply the safe option. Safe to animate, safe to draw, safe to craft stories for, safe to empathize with. The second you have to do it for something that is properly alien or decisively not human, that's when you run into trouble. Because if you can't get the audience to connect with a character, it's over. And that becomes harder if the alien or fantasy creature does not share something in common with us.

It's kinda sad honestly that the biggest departure from human-based races that Dragon Age has even done is qunari. And they're technically just horned giant people. They're not exactly inhuman enough, hell if character creation teases are anything to go by, they've actually tried to make them MORE human looking for the next game.

Which brings us to a whole other issue that is pushing us further down this hole within the confines of gaming itself. For far too long now, the gaming industry has become increasingly obsessed with hyper-realism, both in graphics and design. Unique artistic styles and aesthetics have slowly been eroded away by an obsession among developers and publishers alike. A need to force characters and games themselves to be grounded in the real, no matter how fantastical the setting is.

lately, people have often complained about how the faces of game characters have gotten "ugly" over the years. The stupid among these people think its a conspiracy to get rid of sexy ladies in video games and alter beauty standards in the mainstream for some agenda. The reality is known to the smarter set of folks, who have seen the industry cultivate motion capture technology to reduce their reliance on artists to craft characters for them. Just get a recognizable face or literally anyone you can find and make them act out the lines while wearing a facial capture rig. You wanna blame anyone for making women in gaming less sexy? Blame LA Noire for proving the viability of facial animation capturing, not some evil conspiracy of developers obsessed with some innocuous message.

As a result, gaming has emphasized realism more and more in its aesthetic design philosophy. Particularly among the Triple A Games, where they seem to think that if the characters don't look real, gamers will feel that things look too old and ugly. There's no room for artistic interpretation, that costs money. No, slap a rig on some actor's face and make them do all the work. You wanna know why MJ in the second Spider-Man game looked off to you? Well that's because the actress is a real person and faces don't always stay the same and alterations to a face scan can potentially mess things up even more.

She also suffered a car accident that required doctors to reconstruct her face, but that's probably only a minimal issue since she you can't really tell the difference as I understand it.

The point is, hyper-realism has damaged gaming to an insane degree artistically and further harmed non-human characters. Because in order to get that hyper-realistic look, games have compromised themselves. Now the qunari look even more like SyFy channel aliens than ever. The boundless creativity of CG reduced to what can be produced on a budget within the make-up chair.

And I don't expect Mass Effect's eventual fifth entry to be much better. If BioWare is still this scared about letting us play something truly non-human in a fantasy setting, then they're not even going to try to let you build your own turian in Mass Effect Beyond or whatever generic subtitle they shove onto it.

And yet its doable, they can let you craft an non-human character to be the main hero. The fact Elder Scrolls was letting you do this for years is proof enough of that. Baldur's Gate 3 revealing I could be a Dragonborn was enough to convince me to pick it up eventually. Admittedly, any game that lets me be a lizard or reptile of some kind instantly has my attention if not purchase. Purely for this very essay's stated hypothesis, it's almost impossible to find any game that will let me play as something that isn't human. Because far too many games and stories prefer to just fallback on boring humans.

And yet, nothing I've mentioned so far is the worst example of this problem.

Ultrabores in the Grimbore Future

I'm not going to mix words here. The Imperium of Man of Warhammer 40k is boring. There I said it. And it's this feeling that is impetus for this entire little article of mine. In the lead up to the release of Space Marine 2, and looking further into the lore of 40k itself, I came across two inescapable truths for me.

1: Every other race in the setting was 10x more interesting and compelling, both character and lore wise.

2: Every Imperium of Man Fanboy is an Insufferable Douche Canoe of the Highest Order.

I might be overstating that last point, but it's hard to be subtle about this because I don't think anyone is going to listen otherwise. The Imperium fucking sucks! And I don't mean as characters, I don't mean as a faction gameplay wise, I mean in-universe it SUCKS. There is NOTHING admirable about this future human civilization or anything they stand for. They're objectively fucking horrible and Games Workshop itself has admitted this. And yet, despite this fact that even the most ardent hobbyist of this tabletop will admit to, you still will find more than enough Stans of the God-Emperor of Mankind who will INSIST they are the good guys. Or at the very least, necessary for the survival of humankind.

My answer to that is no. Very emphatically, NO. The Imperium of Man is not neccessary, at least it didn't have to be. It did not have to be this cruel, this dogmatic, this blindly loyal, this xenocidal and racist. It did not have to be at all like what it is, but because of the choices of Emperor himself, it is now! And it probably can't unfuck itself, because it's already fucked over so many other people within and outside its realm of control. It does emphasize the good things about humanity, it's oozes all the worst aspects of it. That's its point. That's why this universe is Grimdark. That's why it's not a good thing that humanity has become what it is in this future.

And yet, Imperium fanboys will refuse to budge. Insistent that the Emperor did everything right and it was only everyone else not just laying down and dying that screwed anything up, if at all. And while Games Workshop itself has stated the opposite, explained in detail that this franchise is satire, that you should not take the actions of the Imperium of Man as a lesson for how to run a civilization or your life... guess what the biggest seller and face of 40k franchise is?

Yep, humans.

You might think that's a contradiction, but it makes sense you realize those are the figures that sell the most. Therefore, the Imperium gets the most books, the most lore, the most focus on media outside the main tabletop. Sure they've made games where you play as the xeno factions and books with aliens as protagonists. But the majority of 40k lore is all about Humanity and it's really affected how this franchise is viewed at this point.

You see it doesn't matter how often you say something is satire or that it's aspirational. If you place the spotlight on it long enough, people start to gravitate towards it. The Imperium of Man, being the most popular of 40k's factions, is a victim of its own success in this regard. It has become increasingly difficult to separate the satirical dark comedy of the Imperium from the lore's various attempts to make them the most badass of all badasses. People like watching struggles for survival, conflict of epic scale, heroic sacrifices, it makes for really compelling drama. It also more often than not whitewashes all the bad things the Imperium does if you overly focus on all the cool shit the Space Marine chapters pull off.

You tend to forget that the only reason anyone survived the Fall of Cadia is because a bunch of Eldar showed up to help evacuate humans. Or that Cadia only stayed standing for so long because a Nekron helped out. You ignore the pointless war that turned Kreig into a wasteland, when all anyone talks about is how the Death Corps can take down Tau with a shovel. You can point out how the Emperor is in fact, for all intents and purposes, fucking dead, but when it's coming out of the mouth of a dude who's following a sadistic murder god, it's not very convincing. People always come back to this when the Imperium is involved. "So what if they suck, they're humanity's best and only option at survival. And they're fucking badass!" And Games Workshop doesn't push back on this, mostly to not piss off its fans, generally though because tried to do that once before and it backfired.

The Tau Empire used to be an up and coming foil to the Imperium in many ways. They were ruled by reason and science, not blind dogmatic faith and religious zealotry. They believed in harmony among the races, not genocide and supremacy. They had an optimistic and hopeful view of the galaxy, as opposed to the fatalistic one the Imperium had. As it stood, they were the most heroic out of all the 40k races... and a bunch of fans, mostly Imperium as I understand it, hated them. They felt they ruined the grimdark setting by being too goody good.

So Games Workshop eventually just gave in and decided to change the lore. The Tau were only like that because their leadership was essentially mind controlling them. Great, so they're no better than anyone else in this future. Wonderful. Can't have an opposing view from the Emperor's that might turn out to be a better path forward. Nah, turn them into a brainwashed cult essentially to further justify the existence of the Imperium. Forget that an earnestly good society in a galaxy that is probably fucked beyond repair is probably sufficiently grimdark since they're such a young race but probably equally doomed. We need to make EVERYTHING in this setting so completely utterly hopeless, because anything less means the Emperor is wrong for creating the circumstances that made everything worse.

And as a result, the Imperium of Man is the one major roadblock for me getting into this franchise. Now, don't misunderstand, there are things about the Imperium I like and find interesting. Like many, I like Captain/Lieutenant Titus, because he's not a dogmatic sycophant who acts like a religious zealot. I do actually like the Death Corps of Kreig if only from a history buff perspective because I'm into the WWI Aesthetic they have going on. And of course there are the Salamanders, the only Space Marines I will ever consider truly heroic because they give a shit about things besides duty and honor, as well as possess some degree of empathy for other lifeforms. I enjoyed the first Space Marine game a lot! It's why I picked up the sequel.

However, all of these points have asterisks next to them. The Death Corps of Kreig are cool VILLAINS to an extent. I don't think you can ever present them as heroes given their mindset or origins. That's true of a lot of things within the Imperium. The Salamanders are still beholden to the dogma that has consumed a good deal of the Imperium and they are not really going to do anything to break off from it. And while I enjoyed the first Space Marine game and had fun with Boltgun, let's just admit something right now... half the enjoyment of the original Space Marine Game came from this dude.

Grimskull was probably the most fun antagonist to go up against in any game. Him just yelling "Space Marine!" in his ridiculous Cockney accent always made me smile. Titus, as badass as he is, lacks quite a bit in the personality department. The sequel doesn't do much better, even if his character arc is at least serviceably good in that game. But he remains stoic and loyal, he isn't exactly a dynamic figure like Grimskull was. And be honest with yourself, that first game got real boring after you killed the Warboss.

That's the problem I have with 40k. There are so many more interesting, compelling, fascinating alien races. Sure, none of them are perfect good guys and a lot of them are downright evil... but they're at least unique! I had a lot more fun learning about the Orks honestly than I did listening to the one hundredth iteration of something super epic and cool an Ultramarine did. We get it, they're Master Chief and Doomguy on Steroids! Do they do anything else besides pontificate about how awesome the Emperor is and go on about duty and honor more than Zuko in season one? The Orks might be idiot rampaging soccer hooligans, but at least they're funny.

And yet there are far fewer Ork, Eldar and especially Tau related books and media than the plethora of Imperium related works that have overstuffed everything. And if you admit to liking anything other than the Imperium of Man, especially the Tau, you are instantly ridiculed. I would honestly pay way more money just to play as Commander Farsight than Titus. Because Farsight feels like a natural progression for Titus to take, but never will. He just can't. While Farsight will leave his government behind and strike out on a new path to pursue the Greater Good as he now sees it, Titus can't, because that would only be seen as heresy, both by fans and in-universe.

Imperium Stans will look at this picture and honestly claim this fucking sucks without hesitation. That's the degree of brainrot they give off. Calling some of the coolest looking shit lame.

I just instantly felt Farsight is a more compelling and complex character by default because of his arc. Whereas Titus will never really change much beyond what he is, a reasonable enough Ultramarine in a sea of equally super serial hardasses that aren't much different from him. He just thinks a bit more for himself.

Farsight's crew of mech piloting badasses at least have variety. But to my surprise, so many others didn't agree, annoyed apparently that Farsight was able to resist corruption of demons, baffled at how it was possible because he lacked faith in the glorious God-Emperor of Man! None of them considered that maybe, just maybe, Farsight was able to resist corruption because he's not governed by religious dogma at all. Maybe his open-mindedness and ability to reason protected him just fine! But can't have that I guess, humans have to remain special after all.

Despite everything going for him, actually retaining a proper sense of heroism, being a truly good person who wants to do the right thing even in a universe full of shit, I still saw Imperium fans giving Farsight shit over the stupidest of things. I found a video on YouTube not long ago concerning how Farsight rightfully pointed out the weaknesses of the Imperium Titan Mecha. Oversized bulky machines that are millennia old. But while scary, Farsight noted how they can be defeated and are not as efficient or effective as the Space Marines were. The comments were FILLED with Imperium stans laughing at this bit of lore, calling Farsight names and declaring that the Titans were older than his whole civilization as if that was some kind of gotcha.

Everything the Imperium uses is older than shit though, that doesn't make it better. The reason it's so old is because the Imperium does not know how to make this shit anymore. They lost the knowledge when they rejected science in favor of their stupid religious dogma. Now their old as fuck spaceships are finite, same as their Titans. The Tau can replace their losses, the Imperium ultimately cannot. And yet here were the fanboys, praising how cool and awesome the Titans were, ignoring Farsight beat one easily, had video to prove it and that they essentially sound like those weirdos who jerkoff constantly about how awesome the Tiger Tank was. Despite it being an overly expensive over-designed mistake. One that both the Americans and Russians put to bed because their tanks didn't need special parts to function or guzzled up fuel like a thirsty pig.

Treating Titans as superior because they are older than the Tau is like arguing a Trebuchet is better than an Abrams Tank. Sure, one is way older than the nation that created the other. Doesn't mean its going to last very long in a one on one fight. But because humans have to be super special and awesome in 40k, we can never point out how their various systems, beliefs and strategies are outdated and costly.

Frankly, I'm more interested in Warhammer Fantasy by default by this point. Not just because they have a full faction of lizard people, although that is a plus. But because the factions of that universe are more diverse, interesting and not as mired in adherence to the grimdark lore mindset. Even the human civilizations are more compelling because they're not all one singular entity and have differing ideologies and strategies. I'll take that over being expected to look at the Ultramarines in awe simply because they do something badass every Tuesday which will get them six more books whereas Farsight still only has two.

And I don't think I need to point out what this has resulted in. As Asimov feared, placing humans on the superiority pedestal has emboldened that very sentiment in reality. Look no further than the current fervor over the existence of a Black Space Marine and a female guardsman officer in Space Marine 2. Even with fans pointing out how both of those things are both perfectly fine in canon, it doesn't change just how much 40k has attracted a lot of racists over the years. So much so they had to change tournament rules to prevent people from wearing actual Nazi uniforms to events because one asshole did so.

If there is any franchise that truly showcases the dangers of humancentric narratives it's Warhammer 40k. Because we are hardwired to root for the home team and we've also proven that we're incapable of reading satire. Creating the perfect storm of events that leads to far too many people stanning a literal Fascist-Dogmatic Forever War Machine. And while Games Workshop has tried to get the other factions more time in the sun, I'm not sure they can ever manage to get them up to the same level of prestige as the Imperium if they keep holding themselves back from just giving the Space Marines a damn rest for a second.

Room on the Party Wagon

I don't want to make it seem like it's all so hopeless. That there's no way for mainstream audiences to overlook their inherent human bias. I do believe it is possible for non-human protagonists to take center stage in a property and remain there. I believe that because I've seen it done before. In fact, I was quite literally there.

If there is any more miraculous franchise than the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I don't know of it. There should be no reality where two guys making a sketch of a nunchucking turtle for funsies in an apartment while chowing down on pizza could launch something this everlasting. And yet they did it. Ninja Turtles, 40 years later, is still going strong. And all with a lead cast made of decidedly non-human lead heroes. Better yet, it didn't stop with Leo, Raph, Donnie and Mikey. Over the years, countless heroes and villains have been added to the mythos. A good number of them fellow mutated animals, all with distinct personalities, motivations and interpretations over countless adaptations and timelines. It is truly astonishing to have been there from the start of Turtle Mania and to have never had them go away for very long.

And again, all with primary character who aren't human. How? Simple enough, people gravitated to the Ninja Turtles. They had distinct vibrant personalities. They were fun and colorful and different. They connected you to them by getting you to recognize their relatability.

There is still an interest in non-human protagonists, and not just dwarves or elves. I'm not alone in my desire to have something other than my own species take the spotlight now and then. Wings of Fire is fairly popular series that stars no humans at all for the most part. In fact they rarely show up. The real stars of the franchise are dragons, big fire-breathing dragons who all have unique cultures and perspectives that incredibly well-fleshed out and intricate. They're also not entirely humanized either, as dragons have very different morality and cultural cues from humans.

Another interesting take on things can be found in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3. Which, despite having him out for most of the runtime, was all about Rocket. He was an absent protagonist, but he was the primary because everything revolved around his story and towards him finally accepting his species' name and moving past his survivor's guilt. Rocket is probably the most prominent non-human hero in the entirety of the MCU as a result and that's a big deal.

What I'm saying ultimately is that there is room for multiple perspectives. Not just the ones we're the most comfortable with. Because if we only accept the experiences of those we consider familiar, we will never understand those that are other. The road to a society like the Imperium of Man is based in one of mistrust, fear and prejudice. To avoid that, we must be willing to look through the eyes of others and learn about the human experience from something that is not. That is what the best of science-fiction and fantasy can allow for.

If such genres are meant to be an escape, what greater escape can be found but one that is outside our limited human experience. We can never know it is like to fly, or swim deep beneath the sea, or see from a dozen eyes or just one. But we can imagine ourselves in that role and empathize with that which is alien to us. If we limit our fantasies then we limit ourselves, our imagination, our ability to connect. If all you desire in your sci-fi or fantasy is for some big burly human with a sword, regular steel or chainsaw, to murder orks and aliens, then that's fine. But there are others among us who don't want such arbitrary limitations. Humans are not boring by nature, but picking the same old fantasies and escapes IS boring. We could do with changing things up more.

What I'm saying is, it would not hurt anyone if they just did one Triple A Title in the style of the Space Marine games but for Farsight instead. We don't always have to be the Space Marine. Notif we've be okay being a Ninja Turtle. There's room for all perspectives, human or otherwise, in genre fiction. We should be doing more to open up the gates for those experiences. Sooner rather than later.

[lokilickedme]

The Way

I’m writing horror again.  I guess it’s that time, you know, that time that has nothing to do with Halloween or the seasons or whatever, that time when it just hits me for some reason.  And just like I always do, I’ll say I don’t know why.

Even though I know why, and you know I know why.

Because the truth is always so much weirder and worse and more disquieting than any excuse I could make up for it, and sometimes I just feel the need.

Today I felt the need, and I couldn’t make it go away.

And so I sat down, and words I didn’t want to write were written.

.

8592 words I would rate this Mature 18+ if it was a fic, strictly because of the subject matter.

Warnings: Death, mostly.  Religious trauma, brief descriptions of abuse, mentions of mental illness, domestic violence, grief, familial dysfunction, religious abuse, emotional abuse, medical conditions, brief mentions of drug use/abuse, mild gore in reference to corpse decomposition, psychological unease and mild terror, child abuse (mental/emotional/psychological), brief allusion to physical child abuse, cult references, loss of faith, attempted murder, possible actual murder.

A Note:  I love you guys, you’re always so quick and willing to be helpful and offer advice and suggestions and such, and I adore that about you.  But on this piece of work I ask that nobody offer any theories about what happened to my brother - medical, criminal, or otherwise - and please no suggestions on things we could do to pursue investigation, that ship has long sailed.  It’s been 23 years and he’s a cold case.  We spent years trying to sort it out but in the end it’s just something that happened, and we moved on because we had to.  There are a lot of open ends, a lot of question marks, a lot of suspicious details that never connected to anything - and we tried, we truly did.  If anyone out there knows the truth, they’ve never shown themselves to us.  We do have our theories, but my brother was a secretive person living a life none of us knew about, and the people he knew weren’t people we knew.  Everyone involved is either dead or moved on or got away with whatever it was they did, and there are only three of us who still care.  It’s over.

Until today, I’ve never put these events into words.

It was something I needed to do, finally.

This is PART ONE.  There may not be a part two, unless doing this ends up making me feel better.

Please feel free to comment if you wish.  As you can see, pretty much nothing triggers me.  I just ask that you please refrain from the type of comments noted above.

And thank you.

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This is, regrettably, a true story.  Nothing has been changed but the names, because the dead don’t like being talked about, and James was just enough of a shit to haunt me for it.

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They made up their minds And they started packing They left before the sun came up that day An exit to eternal summer slacking But where were they going without ever knowing the way

They drank up the wine And they got to talking They now had more important things to say And when the car broke down They started walking Where were they going without ever knowing the way

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold And it's always summer They'll never get cold They'll never get hungry They'll never get old and gray You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today, today

Their children woke up And they couldn't find them They left before the sun came up that day They just drove off and left it all behind them But where were they going without ever knowing the way?

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold And it's always summer They'll never get cold They'll never get hungry They'll never get old and gray You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today, today

You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today, today

- The Way, Fastball, 1998

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That was the year James died in his sleep.

Or that’s what they say, anyway.  Asthma, the likely cause based on his medical history, our first and least disturbing assumption.  Undetermined, the official determination based on the hastily scraped-together autopsy, the best that could be done under the circumstances.  We tell people he had breathing problems, and they nod their heads and agree because they knew he did, and now he’s been gone so long that nobody asks.  Most of the people who ever met him have long moved on or disappeared or died themselves, or just remember him as the enigmatic middle son from the Keithley family that nobody really knew very well.  You know, the odd one, the one that showed up at meetings maybe once a year and smiled nervously but didn’t really talk to anyone and always seemed anxious to leave?  The one who died under mysterious circumstances?  That one.

He left the way he always came in.  Quietly, unexpected, without anyone being aware of either his entrance or his exit.

But me and mom know some things, and she’s not talking.  She probably never will.

So maybe it’s time I did.

December 1998.  I’d gotten married two years previous and moved back to the family land with my new husband.  He hated it there, but we had an affordable place to live.  It wasn’t bad.  He’d tell you otherwise.  The land never sat right with him, but I’d lived there too many years to see it.  I’d been fifteen when my father uprooted his large family from the city and hauled us out to the great back door to nowhere, and even though I’d left several times to wander elsewhere, I always came back.

I didn’t realize why at the time, at any of the multiple times.  But now I know.  That place gets you, and it holds you, and unless you’re goddamned devoted to staying gone you will always be pulled back.  It took me till I was 49 to funnel the necessary amount of devotion away from the religious dedication I’d had jackbooted into me and turn it toward getting out, but against a great number of overwhelming odds I finally did it.

But this isn’t about that, not yet anyway.  This is about my brother James, and how he went to sleep one night and found his own way out.

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It was snowing, had been for days, a bit unusual but not unheard of.  The part of the state we lived in was notorious for extended ice storms and we knew a bad one was coming, but until it hit we played in the snow like it was a gift and we were deprived children who knew it was all going to be taken away soon.  My brothers and I were adults but you wouldn’t know it, watching us sneak around in the woods staging elaborate commando attacks on each other.  James was the best of us, a stealth king who could stand in the middle of a room for an hour without a single soul seeing him.  Perception bias, he said.  Your brain ignores me because I obviously don’t belong, like those puzzles where you circle what’s wrong but it takes you forever to find them.

He crept around in the forest scaring the shit out of people, dropping his long tall self out of trees, appearing from nowhere to administer a well aimed snowball to the face of whoever happened to cross his path and then disappearing just as quickly.  We called him a wraith and it wasn’t a good natured jibe.  We meant it.  He made people nervous.  He was the stealthy kind of quiet you associate with danger, and he knew how to do things an average person doesn’t ever have any need to know.  It was a quiet cool that we admired him for, because none of the rest of us had it.

The religion we were raised in kept a tight lid on us, but me and James, we never really let it get into our bones.  We were the smart ones, in retrospect.  I went through the motions by force of habit and a sense of self preservation, doing what was expected and demanded of me, following the rules and making myself a perfect example of a young member of the church so I wouldn’t bring shame on the congregation and my family.  But mostly the congregation.  It was always more important than anything else.  And I had behaving down to an art form, but mostly when people were looking.  Usually also when they weren’t.

But sometimes, not quite.

And then I prayed for forgiveness about it later because God was supposed to forgive you if you asked him to, right?  The tenet of willful sin being unforgivable never took root with me even though that was what the church conditioned into us through fear and constant repetition.  They said it from the stage two nights a week and again on Sunday to hammer it home.  Two nights a week and again on Sunday my head silently disagreed.  God’s not like that.  And then I did the praying for forgiveness thing even though I knew I was right, because I was disagreeing with the church, and the church was God’s channel here on Earth, wasn’t it?  I committed a mortal sin at least three times a week on that subject alone, and though the dread of divine punishment was hardwired into me, I never could reconcile the concept of a loving and forgiving God destroying me simply for knowing better.

I’m not sure the comprehension of an overwatching deity ever actually established itself in James’ brain.  A moral code, yes.  But isn’t that what God is, really?  Maybe he understood more about God and forgiveness than the rest of us.  But he was considered an unapproved fringe member of the church because he couldn’t suffer people and noise and being looked at and he refused to preach, and he was soft-shunned as a result.  Because if you weren’t all in to the point of being willing to die at any moment for your faith, you were as good as faithless.

And faithless meant condemned.  And the congregation couldn’t be bothered with condemned people, regardless of their reasons for not having both feet in the water.  The first and only option on their list was to put the person out and let them find their own way back once they realized they had nobody left in the world who cared about them.

James escaped that somehow.  He was supposed to be shunned whole scale, but he wasn’t trying to convince anyone to leave the faith and he presented no threat to anyone’s strength of belief, and so far as anyone knew he’d committed no grave sins other than disinterest.  So the rule that dictated we cast him out was bent enough to allow him to remain living on the family land, though at one point during a fit of overzealous righteousness my mother had tried to have a family meeting to vote on whether or not we were going to let him stay.  I refused to vote and when I walked out of the house the meeting fell apart.

I’ve never forgiven her for that.  Her son’s life being put to a vote with her presiding over the proceedings, vengeful and unfeeling and devoid of compassion on behalf of God himself.  It takes my breath away, the anger, still to this day.  The only thing I ever truly learned from my mother about parenting was a long and intensely detailed list of what not to do to my own children, and I suppose I should be grateful for that.  It’s a bitter thank-you to have to give, but it’s something.

We knew James as much as he would allow us to, and not an inch further.  Which meant the extent of our knowledge of him pretty much stretched to include the singular fact that he was different.  What that meant, I still don’t really know - but it was there from the day he was born, that slight off-ness, the oddly off center calibration that you can’t really see so much as sense in a person.  I know now he was likely on the autism spectrum and he walked through life seeing and reacting to everything differently than most of us, but that wasn’t a thing back then.  You were just weird, or you weren’t.  And I’m not convinced that was a bad thing for him, strictly speaking.  But in the confines of our religion and our family’s devout and sometimes violent dedication to it, it took its toll almost daily.

He stood out, and he was very much a person who didn’t want to.  He wanted to fade into the background, to not be seen, to not be known.  And our religion didn’t tolerate that kind of nonsense, because we were commanded to be bold bearers of The Word Of God, and no exceptions were made.

None.

I’m going to stop calling it a religion now.  I beg your indulgence as I shift to calling it what it is, because calling it a religion is an insult to actual religions that don’t destroy peoples’ lives with callous indifference and murderous glee.

We were raised in a doomsday death cult.  There’s no other name that fits.

And we were trapped in it and its ugly cycle of neverending mental and emotional manipulation and abuse until we were adults, and some of us are still bound to it.  My oldest brother worked his way up to the upper levels of oversight in the local congregation and was solidly entrenched in it until his death, which is a story for later.  My youngest brother, the last remaining living blood sibling I have, is still deeply in it to this day and will likely never leave it.

I took the hard way out, three years ago, by walking away.

James, though.  He took the easy way.  He simply closed his eyes, and he was free.

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December 22, 1998.  Three days before Christmas, though that meant nothing to us.  The cult told us Christmas was a filthy demonic pagan ritual that was condemned by God, so to us the season was just a nice chilly time of year with lots of time off from work.  We’d had an unusual amount of snow, the most we’d had in years.  The roads were impassable and everyone was home except my husband, who worked close enough that his boss at the glass shop came and picked him up that morning with chains on his tires.  Lots of windshields had shattered from the sudden violent cold that had struck the previous night and Scott had the only glass shop for sixty miles.

I think it must have been around noon, and likely my mother had sent my dad up the hill to see if James wanted to come down for the lunch she was making.  He and his wife had split up against the strict rules of the church after a few years of suffering through an ill advised marriage, an important detail to this story that will come into the tale later, and he was alone up there at the top of the hill a lot.  Sometimes he forgot to eat, or he got so busy that he just didn’t bother, so our mother always made something for him because even though he was in his 20′s he was still a kid who needed looking after and her zealous fervor against him had died down with time.  I think he let her believe he was helpless because it worked in his favor and there was always lunch waiting for him in her kitchen as a result.

He was different, he wasn’t dumb.

We all lived on the hill back then with the exception of our youngest brother.  He’d moved to the city with his new wife not long prior.  The locals jokingly called the place a commune, and I guess they weren’t completely wrong.  Thirty-eight acres of wooded land far beyond the city limits that we’d painstakingly spent years carving a livable space into, with five houses, all built from the ground up and inhabited by an extended family of well known culties from a well known cult.  It’s almost comical, looking back on it, knowing now how they kept an eye on us for years to make sure we weren’t doing anything weird up there.

They should have run us off with pitchforks and burning stakes at the very beginning.

Things might have ended differently for us if they had.

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My grandparents lived at one end of the property, an old couple as simple and solid as salted soup, devoutly religious and devoted to the cult and very much cut from the can survive anything and probably will cloth like so many old country folks of their generation.  They were waiting out the end of days up there in their little wooden house, expecting the final hour of this old system to come long before their own demise.  I liked my grandmother, she had a sweet smile and fell asleep every time granddad started talking about the Bible and she paid me five dollars every Wednesday to drive her into town to get groceries, and years later, when she was dying, she told me she’d had a dream where she met my unborn son.  I was four months pregnant and didn’t know yet that I was having a boy.  She died before he was born, but to this day, fifteen years later, he tells me he’s sure he met her, he just can’t remember when.

I was scared of my grandfather.  Not terrified, but there was nothing grandfatherly to him and I always suspected he never actually liked kids much.  He’d once told us a story about the great Fort Worth flood that wiped out most of the city when my mom was a baby, and how he had told my grandmother to let go of my 2-year-old mother while he was struggling to get them across a rushing flooded creek in water up to their shoulders.  My grandmother couldn’t swim.  We could make another Ruthie, he said.  But I couldn’t get another ‘Nita.

He said it proudly, like he was to be admired for his choice.  I was young when he told that story, but it settled into me that this was evil.

Even when he was old as dirt and dying of a brain tumor in hospice care, he made me uneasy.  I was never close to him.  But for some reason, in his final days, he forgot who everyone was except me.  I had been living in another state for years and he hadn’t seen me since before the tumor started taking his life.  But when I walked into the room he turned his head and looked at me, and he mouthed my name.

He couldn’t speak.  I don’t know what he was trying to say, struggling with words that nobody could hear.  And I felt bad.  I didn’t want to be the last person he recognized.  My cousins adored him and had spent the last few years constantly at his side, and they were angry, maybe justifiably, that I was the one he reached for.

I didn’t want that at all.

I don’t believe he was a bad man, but he never spoke of anything except the cult’s interpretation of the Bible, and it was as tiresome as it was terrifying.  Granddads are supposed to be fun.  Ours quoted doctrine at us in a deep loud commanding voice that you couldn’t interrupt and you couldn’t tune out, and once he got going you had to just settle in and wait for him to run out of zealous steam.  And then he would suddenly stop and command grandmother to turn on a John Wayne movie and bring him some ice cream, and it was over until the next time.

I know my mother resented him.  She knew grandmother was the one that had refused to let her go, the one that had held onto her even though she almost drowned by the simple act of holding on.  She knew her father had been willing to let her wash away and drown.  That he thought she was interchangeable with whatever baby they would have next.  How she could spend her entire life with that knowledge and not be deeply affected by it was something that never made sense to me, but now, when she’s in her 70′s and I’m in my 50′s, I finally understand.  It affected her.  She’ll just be damned if she’ll let anyone see it.  And she had stood there in that hospice room watching him mouth my name with resentment burning in her eyes, though she would have rather died than let anyone know what it was for.  He’d forgotten her weeks ago.

The house in the center of the hill was mom and dad.  The homestead.  The house we’d all lived in together, that we’d built with our own hands, the first thing that marked that wild overgrown hill as a place where people actually lived.  A long path through the woods connected it to the grandparents’ house, and it was the epicenter of everything in our lives.  James and I had lived in the upstairs rooms of that house until we both moved out and married our respective mates years later, a reprehensible act on our part that was never okay with my mother and that she never forgave either of us for.  She’d wanted us all to stay.  We can all live here together until the New System comes, she always said.  That’s how the Bible says it’s supposed to be.  We can all keep each other safe and on the right path until the end comes, and then we’ll all be here together forever.

A decade later when I sat up on the hill watching that house burn to the ground, there was as much relief as grief billowing into the sky with the black smoke.  It was the end of an era, and it was far beyond time for it.

Nobody saw it but me.  James was dead, had been for years.  Robbie was dead now too.  Dad was gone, so was granddad.  Me and my youngest brother David were the last two left of the kids, but he had moved to a neighboring city when he got married and he has never seen things the way I see them.  We were of different generations, we weren’t raised the same way, and he’d never experienced the abuse I lived with for the first half of my life.  And he had dedicated his own life to the cult with all the honesty and lack of guile that I didn’t have when I’d made my own dedication vows at the too-young age of sixteen.

It was the end of an era, but apparently only for me.

James’ house was up the hill, past a clearing where my dad used to keep old cars that he cannibalized for parts.  Our oldest brother Robbie, long married with kids of his own, lived at the bottom on the farthest corner of the land.  And my house was on the slope to the west, built on the spot where we’d cleared off an old half-fallen homestead from the late 1800′s, dutifully paying no mind to the fact that a grave was nestled into the slope, right where the yellow daffodils grew.  The cult told us superstition was tied up with the demons and false religion, so we didn’t have the built-in human instinct that tells most people to stay the hell away from certain things.

We just pretended it wasn’t there, and put no importance on it.  It was just an old grave.  The soil was good and the garden I planted next to it did well, though those strange daffodils always wound themselves through everything I put in the ground.  My husband said something wasn’t right about it, but I didn’t pay any attention to him.  He hadn’t been raised as devout as me.

My dad knocked on my door around lunchtime and I opened it.  He backed up, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, the fancy leather coat the dealership had awarded him when he was designated a five-star Chrysler technician and given the state’s first and only license to work on the new Vipers that had recently rolled off the prototype line.  It was a cool jacket.  Made him look like the old pictures my other grandmother had shown me of him from the early 1960′s, when he was young and very much a product of a fancier era.  He’d never stopped greasing his hair back and was still so thin that he and I wore the same size jeans.

I’ve never understood the look on his face when I opened the door.  To this day I can’t sort it.  It wasn’t a blankness like so many people who’ve seen death wear without awareness.  It wasn’t grief.  It wasn’t even shock.

He was sorry.

Those were the first words out of his mouth.

I’m sorry.

I stood there, not knowing what he was sorry for.  It was cold.  I couldn’t push the screen door open very far because of the snow blocking it.  And my father was standing at the bottom of the steps James had helped my husband build, his hands shoved down far into his pockets like a penitent child about to get in trouble, telling me he was sorry.

James is dead, he finally said.  He’s in his house.  I went up there and he’s dead.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I do now - just now, this very moment in fact, I know that I was the first person he told.  He came straight from James’ house to mine and told me my brother was dead.

I don’t know what I said back to him, I just remember sitting down on the top step and feeling the cold bite of the snow through my pajama pants.  There’s a vague recollection of putting my face in my hands, and the embarrassing knowledge that I did that simply because I didn’t know what else to do.  And dad just stood there, nervously stepping from foot to foot in the snow, because he didn’t know what else to do either.

I think I asked How at some point.  He said he didn’t know.  He had something in his pocket but to this day I don’t know what it was.

I don’t know if it was important.  Something tells me it was.  Or maybe it was just the eternally present handkerchief he always kept on him.

I’m sorry, he said again.  He seemed to feel like it was his fault somehow.  I’m sorry.

What do we do?  I asked him.  I’ve never felt more blank.  What are we supposed to do?

I don’t remember what he said, other than he was going to get my older brother.  I remember thinking that was a good idea.  Robbie would know what to do.  He always did.  Brash and blustery and bigmouthed, he got things done while other people stood around debating how to do them.  He would get on it, whatever needed doing.  He would figure it out.

I went back in the house and dad walked away, headed down the path through the woods that connected my house to Robbie’s, hands still shoved deep in his pockets, the big retro vintage Chrysler emblem on the back of his jacket the last thing I saw before I pulled the screen door shut.  I stared down for a minute at the mound of snow it had scooped into my livingroom, still with no clue what I was supposed to do.

No clue at all.

I kicked the snow back outside and shut the door.

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It’s an odd thing, watching the coroner’s van drive away with someone you know inside it.  Someone you saw just yesterday.  Someone who was alive.  Someone who should still be alive but isn’t, somehow.  And since there’s really no way to earn a ride in a coroner’s van without dying, there’s an awful unsettling sensation to it that you can’t get away from.  The last time I saw James he was laughing that devious little laugh of his, his eyes red and bloodshot from the ever present asthma he’d suffered with his entire life.  I don’t count the sight of the coroner’s van leaving the hill via our long steep driveway with his cold corpse tucked into a black zippered bag, because I didn’t see him.  I never saw him.  I didn’t see him dead in his house and I didn’t see them carry him out, I didn’t see them put him in the van.  I didn’t see him later, when it was all over with.  And if I try hard enough I can imagine that van empty, with that long black bag tossed crumpled in the back without a body in it, and James somewhere else living his life however the hell he pleases.

I hold onto that.  Some days it helps.  And some days I think I see him, walking by the side of the road or getting out of a car in the post office parking lot, and it makes me happy thinking he escaped.  I see him in every hitchhiker, in every wandering traveler making his way down the interstate, in every tall thin man I glimpse from the corner of my eye as I go about my business in town.

He’s out there.

I hope he’s happy.

The ice storm hit the next day.

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For the next two weeks we were stuck on our hill.  Power out, no electricity, no heat, no lights, roads iced over and impassable.  We all piled up in mom and dad’s house, quietly grieving James, trying to stay warm.  Most of the state lost power for days, including the city 150 miles away where his body had been taken to the state coroner’s office.  There was no apparent cause of death, so the state ordered an autopsy.

His body had just been placed into cold storage to wait its turn when the power grid went down.  And then, by some unholy stroke of nightmarish luck, the facility’s generators failed.

Nobody could make it in to work because of the ice.  By the time someone finally got into the morgue the cold storage had been down for four days.

Six bodies melted, including James.

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No viable autopsy could be done, though they tried their best I suppose.  The end report was obtained two months later.  It was mostly inconclusive due to the long delay and resultant decomposition of tissue.  There was apparent scarring on James’ heart, but it was old scarring and had nothing to do with his death.  His lungs were scarred as well, but that was no surprise, he’d had severe asthma his entire life.  There was no determinable cause of death, no inflicted trauma, no presence of illicit drugs as far as they could tell from the limited toxicology report they managed with what they had to work with.

No reason.

He’d simply died.

It seemed fitting, to me at least, that the end of him be enshrouded in an unsolvable mystery.  He was a secretive person, intensely private.  He would have loved knowing nobody had a clue what happened to him.

And so we drew our own conclusion as a family.  He’d had an asthma attack in his sleep.  There had been an inhaler next to his bed, but it was new and still in the box.  He simply hadn’t woken up to use it.  Dad didn’t participate in the drawing of this conclusion, his input kept stoically to himself, like he knew something the rest of us didn’t.

We pretended not to see it.

He and mom braved the last of the ice a few days later to make the 150 mile drive to see James one last time.

They came back different.

You couldn’t tell it was him, my mother said.  He was melted, literally.  It was like one of those science fiction movies where they melt you with a laser beam and you turn to goo.

Dad had nothing to say.  He went to bed and stayed there until the next day.

You can go see him, mom told me.  I’ll go with you if you want to go.  But I don’t recommend it.

I decided not to go.

And so I never saw my brother dead.  I never saw any proof that he was gone.  He just wasn’t there anymore.  There was no funeral, he was cremated and his ashes were sent home weeks later, and I went on with my life with the image in my head of James, alive, somewhere else.

----------

Dad was different from that day on.  He’d always been stoic, terse, strict.  My childhood had been spent in fear of him, an eternal dread of making him mad and feeling his temper erupt keeping me from showing any hint of a personality during my formative years.  The cult had forced him to abide by the violent tenet of Spare the rod, spoil the child and there was never any risk of me being spoiled.

James being gone flipped a switch in him.  He was nicer suddenly.  Mellow.  Kind.  After the trauma wore off his humor discovered itself and he was funny.  The dour angry demeanor fell off and revealed a man that I was sad never to have known before.  He and I became friends.  I could sense in his new attitude toward me that he regretted how he’d raised me and respected the way I’d always stood up and been my own person despite it.  But my mother was falling off the deep end and for all the newfound easygoingness of my father, she counterbalanced it with an extremism born of the religious fervor of a mother determined to gain enough favor with God to see her dead child again.  And she was going to make sure the rest of us did too.

We all had to get good and straight on the path, get completely right and stay that way, or we’d never see James again.  He’d be in the New World and we wouldn’t, and how would she explain that to him?  She and I worked together in a law office at the time and as she became more unhinged and unpleasant, I reacted by becoming more outgoing and accomplished.  Our boss changed my work designation from receptionist to Executive Assistant and started teaching me how to do everything from filing papers at the courthouse to photographing accident scenes.  I no longer answered to my mother, the office manager.  I answered directly to the boss.

That didn’t go over well.  She was a control freak with heavy untreated trauma, and the one person in the world she felt the most obsessive need to control was suddenly no longer under her thumb in a workspace where she considered herself the supreme authority.  She countermanded every order the boss gave me and tried to load me up with general office chores that left me no time to do the important assignments he’d given me.  I had no choice but to tell her she wasn’t my superior anymore.

She chose that day to have her nervous breakdown over James, jumping out of my car at a red light on the way home and storming angrily through a shopping mall with me trailing frantically along behind her, yelling for security to arrest me while I tried to get her to calm down.  I ended up telling her she wasn’t the only person who lost James but that none of the rest of us were allowed to experience our own grief because we were too busy catering to hers.

She sat down on a bench outside the sporting goods store and glared at me with a cold hatred I’ve seen on very few other faces, ever.

I knew it would be you, she hissed at me.

That moment changed our relationship forever.  It changed me forever.  That was the day I decided my life was my own, that she not only didn’t have authority over me at work, she didn’t have authority over me anywhere else either.  She could no longer dictate my actions, my behavior, my thoughts and feelings.

For this she disowned me.  It was the first of several disownings over the next few years.  I got used to it.  We went to work the next day like nothing had happened, and I didn’t do a single thing on the task list she slapped down on my desk.  It was a metaphor for the rest of my life, but I didn’t know it yet.

My husband and I moved out of state a couple of months later, away from that hill, away from her increasingly controlling paranoia and bitterness, the first of many small steps toward freedom.

As we were driving away with our trailer full of personal belongings behind us, he said one thing that I tried to argue against, but that somewhere deep inside I knew was probably right.

That land is cursed, he said.

----------

A few weeks before we moved my youngest brother came to town and we went into James’ house together.  It was exactly like it had been the day my dad found him.  The only thing that stood out as different was the bare mattress on the bed - the men from the coroner had wrapped him up in the sheet he’d been laying on and took it with them, leaving just the naked springform mattress James had bought for Jessica right before her final breakdown and their subsequent separation.

It took me a while to go in the bedroom, but I knew from the moment I walked into the house that I was going to end up there.  I needed to see it, the place where James had closed his eyes and left us.

There was a small puddle of dried blood near the foot of the bed, brown and stained into the fabric.  James always slept backwards, with his head at the wrong end.  The blood had come from his nose.

I touched it.  I don’t know why.  It was dry.

He was gone.

----------

David and I laughed a lot that day.  James had been funny in a way that was distinctly him, quiet and of few words, but those words had always counted.  And as we sorted through his things and talked about him and moved some of his stuff into boxes to be stored away, I felt as much awed respect as befuddlement at what was around me.  He’d never been a conformist, which I knew was why the cult had never gotten a firm grasp on him.  He was unknowable and therefore unbindable.  But his house was proof that he didn’t conform to any human expectations either, and nothing in it made sense unless you’d spent time around him.

There was an engine in the bathtub.  I’m not sure what it went to.  Another engine, in the beginning stages of disassemblage, rested on a blue tarp in the center of the livingroom floor, obviously the last project he’d been working on.  There wasn’t much furniture - his wife had taken most of it when she left and it would have never entered his mind to replace any of it.  Jessica’s cookware was in the kitchen cabinets, unused, some of it still in the original boxes, some not even fully unwrapped from their wedding shower years before.  Jessica didn’t cook, she microwaved.  David asked me if I thought it would be okay for him to take a glass Pyrex measuring cup because he’d broken his.  I told him to take it.  It had never been used.

I didn’t want anything, but knew I needed to take something.  One of my husband’s solo CDs was sitting on the entertainment center and the cover, the cover I’d designed, caught my eye and brought me to the CD player to pop the tray open.

Inside was a CD single of The Way.

It was the only thing I took.

----------

My husband told me some time later that my dad and older brother had altered the scene before the police arrived.  After the phonecall from me his boss had rushed him home and he’d gone up to James’ house without my knowledge.  He’d thought it strange that he’d had to step around at least a dozen empty compressed air cans scattered haphazardly around the place as he entered, like they’d been used and tossed aside one after another.  There had been several more on the floor around the bed.  My father had told him to go back down and see how mom and I were doing, and when he returned to James’ house after the coroner’s departure, the cans were gone.  Other than that he said things seemed different, but he couldn’t say quite how.  Just not the same.

He told me my dad didn’t call the police until after he and Robbie had been in there at least an hour, alone with the body.

It’s not something we’ve talked about often, because there’s no satisfactory explanation for it that either of us can come up with.  My mother says they probably didn’t want the police to assume the cans meant he was huffing compression fluid and accidentally killed himself, because Look at the shame and reproach that would bring on the congregation if anyone thought such a thing!  We all knew he used the compressed air to clear the valves on the engines he was working on, all mechanics do, it’s common.  Wouldn’t the police have accepted that explanation?  Dad was the only one that spoke to them.  They wrote down whatever he said, and then they left, and then the coroner came and took James away and that was that.  My father, the most upright straight-and-narrow devoutly dedicated man I’ve ever known in my life, misled the police for a reason that he took with him to his own grave.

The only other person in the world who knew the truth about it took it to his grave too.

At the same time.

In the same car.

Four years later, on October 18, 2002.

----------

The big garbage bag of empty air cans and whatever else that was removed from James’ house that morning had been stashed in my dad’s garage and stayed there until a few weeks after he and Robbie’s joint funeral, when my mother asked my husband’s old boss to come and dispose of it.  Scott was a man who knew people who could do things.

The evidence, whatever it was evidence of, vanished.

----------

The mystery around James never dissolved and eventually no one talked about it anymore, I guess because there was no way we could ever truly find out what happened without him here to tell us.  There were a lot of details that we could never find a way to weave together into anything that made sense and a lot of it was probably inconsequential anyway.  There was a girlfriend that he’d tried to keep hidden from us, a woman that was quite a bit older than him who wasn’t a member of the cult and therefore needed to be kept a secret.  In the end she had convinced him to stop hiding their relationship and he’d bought her a ring.  We met her all of twice before he died, and within days of his passing she left town with her brother and never came back, taking whatever she might have known with her.

James’ ex Jessica had sneaked onto the hill and broken into his house to put a dead raccoon in his kitchen sink a few days prior to his death.  We were shocked when he told us she trespassed on the land often without anyone knowing, and my mother made my father fix the electric gate down at the road so that it wouldn’t open without one of three clickers in the possession of herself, my father, and me.  James would have to come to her house and get hers any time he needed to leave the hill, an arrangement he agreed to because Jessica stole things from his house all the time, she would absolutely take a gate opener if she saw it.

He told us the gate wouldn’t keep her out though, and that she didn’t come in that way anyway.  The only way to protect ourselves from her was to lock her up and he doubted even that would do it.

He died less than a week later, and twenty three years later we still don’t know how or why.

----------

We never felt safe on the hill again.  Jessica was deranged in the worst possible way, we’d known it for a while, and James was her obsession.  She’d threatened to kill him multiple times and had tried twice.  We hadn’t known this, because James, big strong stoic Clint Eastwood type that he was, wasn’t about to tell anyone he was violently abused for years by a skinny little woman that everyone believed was not much more than a meek dormouse with shyness issues and a case of painful awkwardness.  But we knew she was evil.  We just didn’t have any proof.

The first thing my mother said after the initial emotional breakdown of finding her son dead was Jessica did this, I don’t know how but I know she did it.

I believe she was probably right.  But if Jessica was anything she was wily and devious with a strong survival instinct and an uncanny ability to lie convincingly and draw sympathy onto herself.  She’d convinced us for years that she was the perfect combination of sweetly harmless and endearingly clueless, but that only lasted until the day she called 911 screaming that James was beating her and then threw herself face first into a tree in their front yard and sat, calmly singing and coloring in a coloring book on the porch with blood running down her forehead, waiting for the police to arrive.  The act she put on when they got there was one for the Academy, but the officers didn’t buy it.

James calmly rolled up his sleeves and showed them his scars where she’d burned him and slashed him with a kitchen knife.  He pulled up his shirt and pointed out the marks she’d left on him with her teeth and nails.  He hooked a finger into his mouth and showed them the empty hole where she’d knocked one of his teeth out with a baseball bat.  One of the officers asked him why he hadn’t killed her and buried her somewhere on the land already.

She left in the back of the squad car, and my mother took James to the courthouse to get divorce papers started two days later.

Jessica came to his memorial service when we finally had it, several weeks after his death.  She wasn’t invited but we couldn’t keep her from coming.  She wore black like a widow and created a dramatic disruption complete with loud wailing and declarations of undying love, and afterward she stood to one side of the room, smirking at us with the kind of icy malice that you only see on the dangerously deranged, and then usually only in the movies.  Several people commented in hushed voices, asking why she’d been allowed to come.  At one point she started wailing They killed him!!, but everyone with the exception of her mother ignored her.

Her mother, who was still in our congregation, flitted around the room chatting with everyone, sobbing her heart out like it was her own son we’d just memorialized.  She was an ER nurse and had been famously fired from her job at the hospital for taking locked-cabinet medications home by the purse load.  She claimed she put them in her pocket to use on her shift and forgot to return them to the cabinet before leaving.

Jessica had been staying with her for a while.

----------

We fed the crowd at mom’s later that afternoon with my husband and his boss guarding the gate, making sure she didn’t try to come into my mother’s house.  The police were called preemptively, and because this was a town of 300 with not much of anything else to do, a squad car was dispatched and stationed near the inlet to the main drive.

Jessica showed up not much later, like we knew she would.  She drove past the police and parked a few yards down from them in plain sight, just sitting there by the side of the road, far enough away from our property that we couldn’t legally do anything about it.  The officers got out and talked to her, warned her not to cause us any problems, and she fed them a woeful tale about being banned from her beloved husband’s memorial service and denied the right to say goodbye to him.

The officers knew there was no body at that service to say goodbye to.  They also knew her.

My husband came up the hill and told us she was down at the road and that Scott was blocking the driveway with his truck to keep her out.  I told my mother it was time to file a restraining order against her.  She was living in fear and Jessica was known to be trespassing on our property frequently.  No, she told me with tears in her eyes but not a sign of distress on her face.  It was a look I knew, because my mother rarely showed emotion unless she was angry and the rest of the time it was this cold detachment.  That would bring reproach on the congregation because everyone knows what we are.  I can’t do that.  I won’t let her win that way.  I won’t let her cause us to bring shame on God’s name.

God’s name.  I took it in vain that day.

More than once.

I was leaving in a few weeks, moving a thousand miles away.  My husband and I weren’t going to be there to help her keep an eye out, and thirty eight acres of heavily wooded land is impossible to protect and easy to sneak onto from a hundred different directions, James had shown us proof of that.

God will protect us as long as we do the right thing and leave it to him, she said.  He knows what she is.

I think it was just a coincidence that nothing terrible happened in the following weeks, because my faith was getting tenuous and a lot of prayers were going unanswered.  But Jessica quietly disappeared back to her own world after a couple of infuriating weeks of putting herself in our paths every chance she got, and not long after that my husband and I moved away, and as we left the driveway for what we thought would be the last time he sighed and shook his head with the exasperation of a man about to say I told you so.

“That land is cursed,” he said.

I tried to disagree, though I don’t know why.

----------

Less than a mile up the road we passed a man walking.  He was tall and thin and covered in the dust of a long journey with a ratty backpack strapped to his back, and as we passed him I caught his reflection in the side mirror.

It was James, I knew it in my heart every bit as strongly as I knew it couldn’t be.

He was walking away from the hill, toward the west.  The way we were going.  And I swear on whatever holy relic you wish to place under my hand that he raised his head and met eyes with me in the mirror, and he smiled.

.

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold And it's always summer They'll never get cold They'll never get hungry They'll never get old and gray You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today

.

[shinjukuspiritcommittee]

Top 20 2021

My Favorites (updated)

Hello my readers, it’s been a while since I just posted something not related to a headcanon and I am doing one right now. I just wanted to take a bit of a break to just get SOMETHING on here on my days off work. Plus I’m just trying to find my groove when it comes to writing again so hopefully this helps me just get back into the mood of making a post more often lol. I wanted to revisit this topic for a while just because we’ve had a lot more events and a lot more alts in the game were added. And I know for a fact LifeWonders reads these posts in some capacity because I have meme’d an AR into the game with my top picks from the last list I did for Christmas 2019. No I didn’t. I’m just joking around and I know LifeWonders doesn’t read this.

Anyways rather than just make up a list on the spot like last year I decided to use the Housamo Sortmaker (Link: https://club.housamo.xyz/sortmaker/ ) to try and make a list that’s more revealing to what I was thinking at the time. Since I talked about 20 characters ish last time I’m just gonna read from my 20th place to my 1st place spots and try to justify whatever I was thinking at the time. Anyways-

20: Marchosias and Susan: This one was a surprise for me if I’m being honest but I’m just gonna blame the fact on Shukou’s recent involvement with LifeWonders in the form of Live A Hero and how Ryekie and Mokdai live in my headspace rent free whenever I think about the characters in that game. Maybe we can see about getting some LAH headcanons since that’s a LifeWonders property too). So out of all the characters Shukou drew for Housamo why did I pick Marchosias? Easy, it’s been 4 years and this poor man has yet to receive a proper alt or any kind of skin for that matter and I think that it’s a crime. Sure he’s not my favorite but he’s definitely grown on me because he’s just a gentle dad kind of character and his design has grown on me over the years. I just hope he doesn’t get left behind since he has a lot of really interesting and potential things to look forward to in the future given how the main story has unfolded.

19: Shiva/Algernon: The helmet heads are together because DAI XT quickly became my favorite artist for Fire Emblem Heroes and I really just like their designs. DAI XT just knows how to draw robots, armor and muscles well. Also Chapter 11 with Shiva you can read into some interesting perspectives. I don’t want to spoil any of the untranslated content for anyone who’s waiting for the official english translation. But if you are curious Roureem has a blogspot where he posts summaries of the newly released events.

Link: https://housamosummaries.blogspot.com/

18: Cthugha: I love this goober so much. He’d constantly try to act super sentai just trying say good morning everyday. He may not be very bright but that just adds to his charm and honestly I enjoy how he always tries to play the hero in a lot of scenarios because it’s refreshing when they implement him after a bunch of heavy hitting story stuff. I’m not gonna spoil too much about it but I will say he’s more than welcome after everything Chapter 10 and 11 put the reader through.

17: Mineaki: I’ve made a post about him being one of my least favorites way back when I first started this blog and let me just say how times have changed and I’ve learned the value of not judging a book by it’s cover. I still think there’s something a bit off about Kowmei’s style for his characters, but Mineaki has definitely grown on me. He’s a caring instructor who does watch out for his students even if it’s not always in the most direct way possible. Not to get into too many spoilers he’s got a lot of intrigue around him as well and I am curious to see his role get expanded down the line.

16: Ded: Housamo is the reason I really like christmas. The Christmas stories despite following a similar structure to each other do tend to be my favorite stories. Ded himself is also just another good dad character. He’s also two guys for the price of one, so I mean… you know… you’ve got the forever ask your other dad situation. There wasn’t much thought put into this choice I just like santa as a concept because I think the outfits are cute, it’s always nice to get something for people you care about on Christmas and Ded is the perfect embodiment of both sides to Christmas.

15: Shinya: Everyone we need to manifest buff Shinya for 2021, this is not a drill. This is legitimate. We must make Taromati’s and my wish come true. To be more serious again he’s just a sweet and gentle character. He’s also drawn by my favorite Housamo artist. Their characters always just look so naturally good. I’m just surprised he hasn’t gotten much of an alt given he’s perfect material for Valentine’s day. He’s just a soft boy and I would love for him to be in more things because I just enjoy seeing him.

14: Jacob: I have to be honest Jacob is on here because every time I look at him he just gets more handsome to me. I wasn’t all that impressed with his introduction and we don’t know much about his background but I’ve just been drawn to him more and more. Maybe it’s just because he’s drawn by GomTang? I just like looking at him and I can’t help it. To speak a bit less crass he’s another gentleman kind of guy and those are always nice.

13: Shennong: Yeah I like the doc a lot. Firstly, I’m a huge sucker for big bulls and Shennong fits the bill. The white fur really adds to his appeal visually and the purple horns give off a bit of an unnatural appearance. Shen feels like someone who’s been touch starved and alone for a long time given how he acts as a character and when we actually hug him I just lost it. He always has others well being on his mind so he’s not afraid to jump in and help, or give a much needed lecture about when you need to take better care of yourself. He just comes across as very well balanced overall.

12: Heracles: I won’t lie- at first he didn’t interest me much. He looked incredibly plain when among the rest of the cast and he seemed like the typical “bait” character since the banner had Echo, Barguest, Gyumao and Snow. But after reading the translation for Valentine Time Slip I was taken aback at how much of a gentle giant he turned out to be and I just really liked his interactions with the others in that event. And honestly his special quest from that year was one of the more unique ones given the slower pace and more romantic vibe it had. After the event warmed my heart I did a complete 180 and I just knew I really liked him.

11. Yasuyori: Before I start praising him I feel I have to justify why he didn’t quite make top 10 and it will have some mild Chapter 10 spoilers. To be as vague as possible his resolution just didn’t vibe with me at the end of Chapter 10. Like it wasn’t a bad resolution and it was the right choice to make but in my opinion there really wasn’t a moment I felt was clear where he made a choice for himself. Everything just sort of happened around him and it felt like he didn’t really do much to improve his situation. To an extent I kind of see that being the idea given his origins and the story he’s based on and there is some semblance of him coming to terms with himself alongside his isolation being portrayed pretty well, but I just wasn’t satisfied with it as much as I would like to be. With that out of the way, oh my god I just want this boy to never stop smiling and I just want to give him hugs constantly please he just deserves to be happy!!! Yasuyori is a character who’s got a lot of baggage and he’s just trying to find ways to properly cope with his trauma and not repeat past mistakes and I just really like that idea. His role in Xmas 2020 (sorry I just forgot the name of that event, but its when he gets his alt) was a much better representation for his character in my eyes. I’m not gonna spoil anything like I keep saying but he isn’t one to disappoint in future appearances and I just hope this lovable lug keeps getting the support he deserves.

10: Hephaestus: A spicy way to start the latter half of the list. I just want to give this lad a hug and tell him he is worthy of love. But at the same time he is a little shit… and I love that. I can’t fully explain why I grow a paternal instinct in me seeing this grown man sob about his mother but I just do. I want to keep him safe and give him all the affection he wants. Though I am aware a lot of Hephaestus’s interest in his parental figure is… questionable. I am just gonna say I would accept his love for what it is and he just wants approval.

9. Shuten: I’ll be honest I have no proper reason for why I like Shuten so much. He’s just a cool and reliable guy. He just seems like a go with the flow kind of person most of the time and he’s a bit more direct than most of the characters which I always appreciate. Plus I have an unspoken bias for naop guys in Housamo.

8. Durga: While not number 1 on this list, I still really like Durga. She’s quirky but not to an annoying degree, she’s determined and definitely very confident in her own abilities. Her growing to be more sociable throughout her events is something I enjoy seeing because it really creates this sense of growth.

7. Kyuma: I get a lot of people don’t like Kowmei’s art but I really think we should look past it because Kyuma is one of the sweeter picks. He’s someone who just wants to prove himself for his own worth and not what David can provide, but David is part of him and it just creates the potential for a good arc. Plus this boy is unintentionally smooth and will just take your heart when possible. I honestly want to see Kyuma more in events because he’s honestly the jock that carries 3 of the 4 brain cells. He’s also the last one without an alt so I’m just hoping he gets one in 2021 because he really deserves one in my opinion. (Also fan art makes him really cute).

6. Tomte: Tomte is relatively new but honestly his event in 2019 really endeared me to him. I’m trying to be spoiler free because the best way to enjoy these stories is for yourselves but let me just say his arc in the event was really endearing to me and much more than I was expecting. His fan service is also incredibly hammy and I love it. Visually Tomte is one of my favorites, I love his multi colored hair and starlit pupils cuz it makes his otherwise more generic look have some flare. I knew I liked him out the box and when I read about him in the summaries and can’t wait to read the official translation for him. I was just very endeared.

5. Tetsuya: Tetsuya fucks. Moving on…

Jokes aside this one’s a bit simple. I have no shame in admitting I think he’s attractive and his whole resistance towards wanting a relationship is cute in a weird roundabout way. When he says no I just want it MORE. I just really like duo haired tsunderes.

4. Kengo: Kengo 3rd alt 2021. Please LifeWonders I need my favorite Summoner. He’s a bro and that’s what counts. Kengo has got your back, not afraid to rely on you, a very fun and dynamic guy. Sure he’s not that bright when it comes to making plans or any book smart, but there are times where he’s the best at being able to read the room or just understand what someone needs to hear even if it isn’t always what someone wants to hear. His bullheaded nature is actually one of his redeeming qualities because it’s nice to just not overcomplicate things and just understand what’s actually going on. Yes the early story didn’t do many favors for him but to me the events, especially the later ones, do much more work for his character. To me, at least.

3. Ashigara: Ashigara is best bear, and I will defend that stance in 2021. The main thing that draws me to Ashigara is that I can see a bit of myself in him. He gets very emotional when he gets left alone, he’s very loud when with his friends, has a tendency of speaking his mind- just someone who wears his heart on his sleeve. I also appreciate that in spite of the negative he isn’t someone who backs down when the going gets tough and in a few instances he’s able to hold his ground physically at least.

2. Wakan Tanka: Love at first sight. This ray of sunshine still persists as the number 1 husband, but number 2 character. Firstly I am a huge fan of the partial beast aesthetic. The buffalo ears and the horns  are absolutely adorable. Secondly he’s a perfect body type; he’s not too muscular but not exactly flabby. Third he is just so positive and I love that. He’s someone I admire and wanna hug.

1. Taurus Mask: The more things change the more they stay the same. I’m still a big Taurus Mask fan for all the same reasons as last time. I just… relate to this boy. He is an incredibly shy boy who uses his public persona for confidence. Maybe I’m reading too much into it but it’s like we’re soul bros!

So yeah, my tastes haven’t changed in a year and a half.

[not-xpr-art]

Art Deep Dives #1 - The Value of Art ~

Hi everyone!

This is the start to another project I want to start on this account, a companion to my Art Advice tag, and each week or so I’ll be ‘deep diving’ into art history, arts & culture, society’s relationship to art, etc etc... (I basically want to make use of my history of art degree, and also because I genuinely love talking about this stuff... especially without the pressure of deadlines lol)

Side note: don’t worry about these being really ‘academic’ or ‘formal’, since neither of those things are in my vocabulary lol... this is a very casual, informal kind of ‘essay’ writing that I want to be accessible to everyone, regardless of how much you know about art! 

This first one is a kind of follow up of my Art Advice post talking about references, and I’ll be talking about the ideas of how we ‘value’ art.

(this is about 1600 words long by the way...)

The Value of Art

It’s no secret that art is highly subjective. Particularly when it comes to the question of ‘what is the most important type of art?’. It changes from person to person, country to country, and era to era. How we define ‘great art’ now is vastly different to how we defined it several hundred years ago. I mean, just look at the kinds of art in galleries in the modern era (Tracey Emin’s bed comes to mind) versus that of the 18th century (with the likes of Joshua Reynolds, JMW Turner and Thomas Gainsborough). Really, it’s clear to see that what we see as ‘the most important type of art’ is forever changing...

Or... is it?

In order to really answer whether the kinds of art we value now versus that of the past has changed, we need to first establish what ‘valued art’ even means. 

I think in today’s day and age, ‘value’ is often synonymous with ‘price’. So, a Banksy original chipped away from it’s original wall setting and having been sold at a Christies auction for £3.2million is, by this definition, what we as a society ‘value’ as art... Right? Or maybe ‘value’ is more to do with what kinds of works that are displayed in big galleries or public spaces? The Tate has an entire wing dedicated to the works of landscape/seascape painter JMW Turner, so surely that means that we today place a high ‘value’ on his work still? What about public sculpture? Architecture? Sculpture and architecture are often a lot more available for the general public, and even if most people wouldn’t be able to tell you who made the Statue of Liberty, they at least know about her and perhaps even enjoy to look at her? And surely the fame of buildings like the Eiffel Tower or the Taj Mahal mean that they, too, are ‘valued’ as pieces of art? And what of artworks from other countries and cultures? A Chinese man may find no ‘value’ in a painting by a so-called ‘Great Master’ of the Italian Renaissance, but instead will ‘value’ a piece of Imperial Ming Dynasty porcelain instead, does that mean his opinion is the ‘right’ one? Colonialism has played heavily into what arts are now called ‘valuable’ and what are not, so how do we quantify whether a work has ‘value’ without placing our own individual cultural bias on it?

Basically what I’m getting at is, what we value as art in this day and age is very complicated, in a big way because our society is complicated. But for the sake of arguments, and for my next few points, I will be defining an art’s ‘value’ predominantly by whether it has been featured in a big gallery... Which also means I’ll be focusing on painting and sculpture... And also focusing on the Western world of art, specifically Europe, which I want to clarify doesn’t mean I personally ‘value’ that art more, it’s just where I’m from and predominantly what I studied in my course... 

Art historians often declare the Renaissance (around the 14th to 16th centuries) the ‘beginning’ of what we know as art today. But for this essay, I want to instead start a little before this, in the Early Medieval period. People often know of this era as ‘the dark ages’, in Europe at least, because it was after Rome had fallen and taken all their so-called ‘genius’ with them. A particular note for why for years we’ve seen this period as ‘regressive’ is through their art. A quick Google search of ‘Medieval baby’ will come up with a plethora of results for a wide range of paintings depicting babies (usually the baby Christ) as scaled down versions of adults, complete with receding hairlines and strangely buff arms and chests. 

Now, is this because medieval babies actually looked like this? I think this is... highly unlikely... I know most things happened earlier in that era than nowadays (girls getting married and pregnant at age 14, for example), but I think it’s a bit of a stretch to think their babies had six packs... No, instead it’s more likely that rather than being direct representations of babies, these were purely symbolic. And particularly given how they often were of Christ, art historians often say that the weird adult-baby hybrids are to represent Christ’s divinity. 

Now... What’s all this got to do with art and value? Well, the thing about early medieval art is that the value was almost entirely placed upon the symbology and meaning of a piece. Later in the medieval period, paintings began to become more ‘realistic’ to some extent, but it still for the most part stayed true to this idea of symbolism over representation. 

That is, until we get to the Renaissance and all of that gets thrown out of the window because artists want to be able to paint babies that actually look like babies, thank you very much! And with the likes of Leonardo da Vinci championing for art to become a science, surely this means that the kinds of art that was valued in this era were highly accurate portraits or landscapes... Right?

Short answer? No. 

Long answer? Well, portraits and landscapes had their place in the hierarchies of art. Portraits were often commissioned by wealthy patrons, and were basically ways of the artist showing off how good their portrait skills are. And landscapes were less important, more seen as ‘nice backgrounds’ than anything else. But the art that was highly valued by most wealthy patrons and art connoisseurs of the time was... (imagine a drum roll here please) 

History painting! These are basically big biblical or mythological scenes, often with a lot of figures doing a variety of things (think Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel), often with some pretty landscape as the backdrop, and often featuring a couple of portraits in the mix (including one of the patron who commissioned it, probably being blessed by the Virgin Mary, and a cheeky one of the artist peeking out from behind a bush or something...). From the Renaissance era up until basically the mid 19th century, History paintings were seen as the most important works of art to be featured in galleries. 

And really, things only really began to change when we reached the end of the 19th century, with the development of photography. 

Photography, and film, both lead to a massive shift in not only the kinds of art that are produced in the 20th century, but also the kinds of art that are valued. For so long art had been the main form of representation of society, and the advent of photographs meant that art had almost lost that ‘purpose’. Not to mention the leading towards a more secular society which no longer had a need for symbolic or spiritual artworks. 

So, the only place art could really go was to become a form of expression instead. The likes of artists like Picasso and Braque pioneering cubism, being about new ways of representing the world. The Surrealists delving into ideas of the subconscious. Pop-Artists like Warhol looking into media and consumerist society, and the list goes on... 

Which brings us onto my most hated period in the history of art: Conceptual art. 

I’m not going to go big into this period, which is still around today (unfortunately), but all you need to know is this twat Marcel Duchamp flipped a urinal (which he didn’t even make himself) upside down and called it a ‘fountain’ and shoved it into a gallery and thus art that has no value beyond it being ‘concept based’ was born. And yes, yes I hate it a lot (I’m not even trying to be objective about this, I hate conceptual art with a burning passion... some guy put some sh*t in a box and put it in a gallery & called it art and I am SO mad about it lol...). And as much as I hate this period, what it does signify is how art began to be valued not through the craftsmanship of the work itself, but instead the ideas. 

And this idea remains today. Damien Hirst has forged his entire art identity on creating works that are based entirely on some ‘meaning’ that could be forced onto it, rather than the aesthetic or material value. And as mentioned before, Tracey Emin’s infamous bed isn’t about the work and effort gone into the piece itself, but instead about what the artists intends for the piece to ‘mean’. So, the ‘value’ of the work is what it says, and not what it is, essentially. 

(This is not to say that there are no artists who work today that get featured in galleries and are highly skilled at their craft. The one that springs to mind is Grayson Perry, who’s well known for his pottery and tapestries with some kind of social commentary bled into them.)

This ideology around art also bleeds into online spaces of art (which I see as distinctly separate from the world of art galleries and the Turner prize). I still see artists, and non-artists, talking about how much they enjoy work that is ‘original’, and oftentimes ridiculing and demoting ‘fanart’ as purely ‘derivative’ or ‘unoriginal’. 

And all this brings us back to history paintings. Because their ‘value’ wasn’t just in the immense amount of skill that went into them. A large part of their ‘value’ was that artists and non-artists alike saw them as feats of the artist’s ‘genius’ or ‘imagination’ at play. And in the same way that Early Medieval art was valued for the symbology of the piece rather than the representation, history paintings had the benefit of including both elements. In essence, they were both meaningful AND beautiful. 

In conclusion (just to remind you that this is technically an essay lol), a lot about art HAS definitely changed in the last few hundred years, particularly in what kinds of art is getting made now (and why we make art in the first place). However, what we as a collective society ‘value’ as art has remained surprisingly the same, often with a heavy preference for a work’s meaning and symbology, which can sometimes overshadow the craftsmanship of the work itself. 

I still hate that godforsaken Duchamp toilet though...

(images used:

unknown medieval painting (I just liked that he had his hand down mary’s dress lool)

mona lisa by da vinky 

detail of the creation of adam on the sistine chapel by michelangelo

a photograph by louis daguerre, often known as the father of photography

*clenches fist* ‘fountain’ by marcel duchamp

‘my bed’ by tracey emin )

I hope you enjoyed this informal essay about art, I will definitely be doing more of these in the future! If you have any thoughts on this, feel free to reply to this or message me, etc! I love having open and frank conversations about art! 

[hannahindie]

Han Hearts...Week 4

Ah, here we are again. Week 4. I should pick a consistent day to do this on. I probably won’t. It’s a surprise every time! The fact that we are on a consistent week 4 is just...a testament to how hard I’m trying. For those of you who have been around awhile, you know that’s true.

Anyway, this week, the choice for author rec was an obvious one. Don’t get me wrong, I have a list of people that I’m dying to share, but this week...well, this week someone particularly special to me is getting the spotlight.

And, while some of you may think it’s because my love is a huge bias, I can assure you that if you take a gander at their master list, you’ll know that it’s far more than just my love that has secured their spot on Week 4.

The author for this week is...

@pinknerdpanda​!!

I joined Tumblr a very long time ago. May of 2011 to be specific. It was years before I finally started using it on a mostly daily basis, and I met a couple of people who became my closest friends, in a time that I didn’t even realize I needed them. They encouraged me to keep writing and to keep posting, they shared my stuff to all their followers, they read my words and helped edit. They helped me become who I am today, and also helped me through one of the worst times of my life. Since 2017, this sweet soul has been one of my best friends, and even though we don’t get to talk every day like we used to, or see each other as often as we’d like, it’s like no time at all has passed.

I know it probably sounds like I’m choosing her this week simply because I love her, and though the loving her part is true, this girl uses words to paint pictures that are so beautiful, so heart wrenchingly perfect...I can’t do them justice. She literally paints with her words; you can see every thing she describes, can feel the emotions, the love and happiness, the sadness, the anger. All of it.

I really could go on and on about how amazing she is. As a person, as a writer, as a friend, as a mom, as a wife. I could. But really, I want you to see for yourselves, because she is seriously one of the most talented people I know, and you guys need to experience it.

For starters, here is her master list. You’re going to want to save that. You can find it HERE. That’s her Supernatural list. She also writes for the MCU HERE!

Now, on to some specifics!

The Dance - A sweet one shot with our precious Sam. I would love to dance with Sam Winchester.

Barcelona - The Winchesters know how to be sweet, and Dean grants the reader exactly what she wished for.

Hey Jealousy - Cas isn’t the greatest with human emotions, but especially when it comes to Y/N. What is this new feeling?

Stripped (NSFW) - You just need to read it.

Sunset - Bucky finally lets the reader in.

Bonus!: This is a bit of shameless self promotion, but here is one of my favorite things we’ve both done! Check out the Wedding Singer, a musician AU that we worked super hard on, and it was a pleasure to work with her on!

Please, check out my beautiful twinny’s work, reblog, comment, give her a follow. You won’t regret it!

Forever Tags: @pinknerdpanda​ @wheresthekillswitch​ @amanda-teaches​ @masksandtruths​ @escabell​ @trexrambling​ @cosicas-cuquis @ladylachesis @amanda-teaches​ @ilsawasanacrobat​ @docssoulshine​ @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout​ @charliebradbury1104​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​  @deanssweetheart23​  @canadianjelly​ @super-not-naturall​ @aubreyreadsstuff​ @fandomismyspirit​ @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123​ @rosie-winchester​ @amionthetumbler​ @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25​ @authoressskr​ @nanie5​ @mrssamfuckingwinchester​ @zincomms​ @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud​ @barbedwireandbubblegum​ @sandlee44​ @boxywrites​ @justanotherdeangirl​ @smalltowndivaj​ @captainradicalpassion​ @myloveforyouxx @atc74​ @mrsbatesmotel53​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @thelittleredwhocould​ @jotink78​ @ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @anticipate1003​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @mogaruke​ @speakinvain​ @linki-locks11​ @wildlandfox​ @rhochradel​ @lostnliterature @eternal-elir @spn-ficfanatic​ @polina-93​ @lexiiiii28 @poukothenerd​ @emoryhemsworth​ @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend​ @closetspngirl​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @hunterscabin

[ofcourseshesbetter-archive-blog]

So, yes, this happened! I still don’t have the proper ability to comprehend that I got to this milestone. I made Mary on a whim, assuming I’d probably not keep it going with her, despite my obvious love of her, thinking most people wouldn’t want to interact with her since she’s not exactly the definition of well loved in the fandom. But so many of you have made this such a wonderful experience for me on here, and made playing Mary so much fun. Thus, lets get on to the shoutouts!

THE GINGER NUT SQUAD (aka the CAH group of fuckery):

@hisjiminycricket

Serah, you are genuinely one of the sweetest, kindest and most loving people I can say I’ve had the fortune of getting to know. I swear, you don’t have a bad bone in your body and oh I admire you so much for that. I know I can always go to you with anything, big or small, or just someone to fangirl over Warstan about... You’re one of a kind. Thank you for putting up with me and my craziness. I know i’ve told you this a million times over but I absolutely bloody love you.

@mvcrofts

HAYDEN MY LIL FELLOW CATS DORK WHO I LOVE TO THE MOON AND BACK! I don’t think anyone else on here would go with a random idea about a ship I had out of no where and build it up the way you somehow do with me with Mycroft and Mary. You make me laugh to the point of tears, you make me smile like nothing else. I can’t put into words just how much I genuinely adore you. You’re a wonderful person inside and out, and I feel so lucky I get to be your friend.

@bakerstreetsconsultingsociopath

Aly! While you constantly drive me crazy saying Aussie slang THAT NO ONE HERE USES, I still love you so much. Your Sherlock is so quick witted, so much like in the show, which makes me so happy with the threads we do because I love getting to write Mary being a sassy little pain to Sherlock. Somedays I swear to god we have the exact same relationship as Mary and Sherlock but that makes things all the better. You portray him in such a brilliant way and no one else can take that from you <3.

@nctanthca

MIRANDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! The many extra A’s all in caps lock should be a proper indication of how much I’m actually obsessed with you, like lowkey though I think you’re so incredibly funny and charming and sassy ( just like Anthea) and I just... No words. Not only are you a talented writer, OOC, you’re so chill and easy to talk to. Plus, I love the little friendship Mary and Anthea have, just the two of them being total girls, drinking all of Mycroft’s whiskey and reminiscing on their younger years. I couldn’t imagine it all any other way.

@psychopatx

Jack, or should I say Jim because you sometimes actually terrify me with just how much you are like him. I don’t think you realise how well you portray him, how well you do him justice. Your love and passion for him, and his story, his personality, just everything about him is so lovely to watch as you grow and develop him in a way the writers could never do - which, Jim deserves. Also, your cosplay of him is fucking incredible, just so you know. 

@thenewsexy

Ali!! My Marene partner in crime! While our interactions on here are limited, I’ve gotten to know you pretty well OOC, and you are just so sweet, so adorable, so freaking cute I can’t use any other words to properly describe you. Not only are you actually stunning af, you’re so talented at writing Irene, you put your own spin on her in this perfect little way that just works so well. Never ever leave, okay? Because no one else would love on Mary & Irene in the way the two of us do ahaha!

@deadcentred

Sara! Or should I say, the actual living embodiment of Molly Hooper. I’m pretty sure the two of you were twins in another life. While the majority of our interactions have either been OOC, or briefly in memes we’ve sent one another, I love reading your threads, I love the voice you give to Molly, the one she certainly deserves to have because Molly Hooper deserves all the love in the world. We really need to write more IC, because much like Amanda - I need the Molly and Mary spinoff where the two of them lounge around, drinking wine, and just being total girls while the boys are off being boys.

THE BAKER STREET GANG (AKA THE LOVELY PEOPLE WHO SOME REASON TALK TO ME AND WRITE WITH ME CONSTANTLY DESPITE ME BEING TRASH):

@losingsiide

MAC! Aka, the biggest dork in the world who I just want to snuggle and protect away from the world and hug till I can’t hug no more but unfortunately I’m on the other side of the world so it makes it very very hard. There is very few people on here like Mac. He’s the fucking bees knees (yes bee reference was very important). Every conversation I have with him is never boring. He always manages to bring my mood up, make me laugh till I’m physically crying with tears, for some reason deals with my obsessive love of Mary (and encourages it), and joins in on my never ending thirst for Martin Freeman. To have a friend like him in this shitty world, I just feel really fucking lucky. If you haven’t got to know him the way I do, do it. Because not only is Mac a brilliant Sherlock, but he’s also a terrific friend.

@suumuxor

Allison! I’m pretty sure you could probably already guess what I’d say about you, but it don’t matter cause I’m gonna say it all, ka-peesh? If you haven’t checked out mother fucking Abigail Holmes (yes she’s Holmes not Stewart that was Mary typing okay don’t correct me correct her) is one of the best OC’s out there. Period. She’s so well thought out, well developed and fits in seamlessly into the framework of the show. Not many OC’s can do that which is a testament to just what an incredible writer she is. Also, hers and Mary’s friendship is the definition of #GOALSAF. I mean, who wouldn’t want their friendship, let’s be real here? I never ever want to stop writing with you, because I can’t imagine Mary without her BFF.

@watsonofagun

Angie! I started following you on my old account as Rosie, and to be honest - I was so intimidated by you and your freaking quality af writing that I could barely talk to you. Then, I made Mary, I got talking to you and all my fears went floating away because you are the definition of being sweet as a cupcake. I love talking to you about random little headcanons I think of at the most peculiar times of night, I love each new thread we write together, and most of all I freaking love you and your John. As Mary said to John, “You make me so happy” - every time I get one of your replies I smile excitedly for what seems like forever and then respond to it into my queue as soon as I can, because I know whenever I get a reply from you - it’s going to be a good one! Plus, you’re never allowed to stop writing with me okay because it’s not allowed, get it? Good!

@julietthotelwhiskey

Michelle, oh wait no I’m sorry, I forgot I was talking to Dr John Hamish Watson. While we’ve only got a couple of threads going on, they’re all so stupidly happy which, with the angst ridden agony story that is John and Mary, the two of them need a little happiness. I could never get bored reading your writing, not only just the ones to me, but with everyone else. Every little thing you do while writing John is so on point, it’s like Martin Freeman is sitting behind the screen writing it all himself. I really hope we continue to write together ( all the happy things, obviously, although I’m sure there’ll be a time where we somehow write something angsty together), because to get to write with you makes feel very, very lucky, okay? You’re so bloody brilliant and you should never forget it.

@geniusofdeduction

Tasha! I don’t know how you do it, but man oh man, your Sherlock is so bloody brilliant, always on point with absolutely everything and anything he says. how you manage to have dealt with him for as long as you have, I give you props (considering I used to RP Sherlock ages a go and gave up after a month). There’s a reason you have as many followers as you do and it’s truly because you write him in just a way that is perfectly yours, but also in the way that incapsulates everything we all love about the quirky pain in the butt that is Sherlock Holmes. I definitely feel lucky to get to be one of those people you choose to write with among all the brilliant people you could.

EVERYONE ELSE WHO FOR SOME REASON HAS WROTE WITH ME IN THE PAST OR I CONTINUE TO STALK FROM THE SIDELINES INTIMIDATED AF BECAUSE AS MENTIONED BEFORE, IM ACTUAL TRASH:

@notelementary | @cansprainpeople | @toldabetterstory | @mollv | @subsolanus | @britishnation | @vxctorx | @blackvclvct | @thesecondmost | @ofdeductiions | @skullandridingcrop | @itsusxallysubtext | @poxsonmenace | @amanandgoodatit | @fortitudina | @isaidfocus | @storyspinningspidcr | @jxhnwxtsxn | @rosiv | @adler-thewoman | 

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: 4 O’Clock

Chapter 3: Secrecy

Taglist: @jineunwootrash

I walked downstairs with the reasons why I shouldn’t be required to attend Donghae’s birthday party pressed on the tip of my tongue. 

The Reasons: 

I saw Donghae so often that seeing him for a split second at a work party (where he would dash from guest to guest) seemed kind of ridiculous

SuperM was setting out on a world tour at daybreak, and I couldn’t afford to lose hours of sleep. My face was already swollen, drowsy from staying up all night playing Truth or Dare with the guys. 

I was still working on the third reason, but it would probably be something along the lines of “What’s the point in going to a birthday party if I can’t even eat cake because of this stupid diet?”

I didn’t get to voice any of my reasons to convince Mom to let me stay home, though, because I dropped my jaw on the floor when I found her sitting on the living room couch. She was still wearing the red tracksuit she wore when she drove me home from the campsite. She wore a pale green clay mask. 

“What are you doing?” I checked my phone because if Mom was laying around, I must have been mistaken about the time. Nope, the screen said, I was right. “Donghae’s party starts in 30 minutes.” 

She joked, “Oh, you don’t like my outfit?” before registering my unamused expression. “I’m not going, Lei. I’m sick.” She forced the least convincing fake laugh of all time, and I rolled my eyes. How gullible did she think I was? 

“Fine.” I plopped down onto the couch next to her, saying, “Then I’m sick, too.” I didn’t go so far as to fake a cough, but I doubt she would have been convinced even if I had been truly unwell. 

“Oh, no.” Mom kicked me off of the couch with her (mismatched) socked feet. “You used your fake flu excuse to get out of ‘Knowing Bros’—” 

My entire body cringed at the mention of Heechul’s variety show. I loved Heechul, but that show— with great effort, I had managed to have a successful career without appearing on a single episode, and I planned to keep it that way. 

“You need to go to Donghae’s party, anyway.” Mom lectured with facts I already knew well: “He’s never been anything but kind to you, so grab his present off the kitchen table. There’s a car outside waiting for you.”

Just to be clear: I wasn’t trying to weasel out of going to the party because I didn’t want to see Donghae or celebrate his birthday. I never would have said this out loud for fear of sounding like a total freak, but I really, really hated work parties. Although the atmosphere was always uncomfortably formal, even for birthday parties, boys (namely, Sehun) tried to blur the lines in strictly professional relationships. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so bothered. Maybe I should have tried to understand that they were grasping at romance the only ways they could— even if it was a fake, pseudo-romance explored in the shadows of an S.M. banquet hall. But I was bothered, and I didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to go.

And, more pressingly, I didn’t want to see Taemin again. Except I did. Just not so soon, and not before I could figure out how to thank him for his jacket. Not before I understood why I wanted him to smile (the real smile) at me. Not before I understood why he wanted my ribbon. 

Wanting to avoid Taemin wasn’t just cowardly; it was impractical, considering that I would have to see him every day for the next few months on our North American tour. I would have to face him sooner or later, talk to him sooner or later, and there was no point in delaying our next conversation. 

I opened my mouth to complain— or least to ask how I was supposed to get home after the party— but Mom had turned her attention back to the paperwork in her lap. Maybe she was genuinely too busy to go to the party, even though it was for work, even though it was hosted on Donghae’s behalf. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to ask if she was still avoiding Donghae. 

I felt like the longer I stayed with her, the likelier I was to ask if she was the idol who never debuted. I didn’t see what good could come from asking, so I ran out of the room, grabbed the small wrapped gift from the table, and crawled into the back seat of the company car in the driveway. 

“Damn, Lei,” Lucas whistled when he found me in the corner of the banquet hall where the light didn’t quite reach. “You look good!”

When he tried to pull me into a hug, I swatted him away. “This is why we have dating rumors, Lucas,” I scolded, knowing that he would shrug my concerns away while laughing. 

Lucas’s eternal smile broadened as he teased, “If anyone figures out where Taemin got his bracelet, your dating rumors won’t center around me anymore.”

The only comfort was knowing that even if my blush broke through my makeup, Lucas wouldn’t have been able to see it in the dim lighting. “Stop saying that. There’s nothing like that there.” 

“That’s what you keep saying.” Lucas raised a disposable red cup to his lips, so his next words were muffled. “But that dimple in your chin— the one that only deepens when you lie— says otherwise.”

Cupping a hand over my chin, I hissed, “There is no dimple!” 

Lucas laughed at my reaction, and I realized that he was just messing with me. While these dating rumors were my greatest source of stress, they were just another thing for him to laugh about. I never wanted to be the reason Lucas’s laughter died, so I had to learn to play along. 

This was the issue: Lucas understood my point of view; he just didn’t share it, and I couldn’t force him to. 

Once he realized that I couldn’t force laughter, Lucas tried to get our conversation back on track. “Anyway, you called me over here to talk about Mom and Donghae. Does that mean there are updates?”

I shrugged and shuffled closer to him so I didn’t have to speak louder than absolutely necessary. “I still don’t know why she’s avoiding Donghae, but she didn’t come to the party—”

My attempts at secrecy were thwarted when Lucas repeated, loudly, “She didn’t come to the party?” He clamped a hand over his mouth when I cut my eyes at him. As he should have in the first place, he whispered, “She didn’t come to the party?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, tucking behind my ear a curl that had escaped my bun. “She even faked some kind of illness. She did one of those lame coughs—” Lucas hacked frailly into the sleeve of his shirt— “Yeah, exactly like that. She’s definitely not sick.”

Lucas’s brow furrowed so tightly that I imagined steam might blow out of his ears from over-exerting his brain. “But why? What could Donghae have done?”

Before I could say that I had no idea, a voice spoke from the deeper shadows, “I can find out if you want.” Sehun stepped into the light. 

As I rolled my eyes at the sight of him— the second to last person I wanted to see that evening— Lucas snorted into his drink. 

“What do you say, Lei?” Like a character from a movie— some kind of spy film whose plot I couldn’t quite follow no matter how hard I focused— Sehun offered his hand to me. “I’m close to Donghae. I can ask him what’s going on with him and Momager if you really want to know.” 

I shook my head at the offer. Dropping his hand to his side, sure to slap it against his black dress pants, Sehun drew his eyebrows together curiously as if to ask, “Why do you always reject me?” The words didn’t have to leave his mouth; he asked them frequently enough while making that face— brows arched more than usual, lips pressed in a thin line— that I knew when they were blaring in his mind. 

Unable to bear the silent exchange, Lucas tried to explain to Sehun, “She doesn’t want to owe you any favors, dude.” 

I know it sounds cynical, but Lucas was right. Nobody liked to admit it, but in the entertainment industry, nobody does anything for the sake of accomplishing a good deed. Everybody is always looking to get ahead somehow, usually by performing these little favors, and I never wanted to be involved in anything like that— especially not with boys (like Sehun) who only wanted to see how close I would get to dating them. 

Sehun rolled his eyes at my cynicism like he always did. “How do you know that I’m not offering out of the goodness of my heart, Lei? You know I would do almost anything to make my fans happy.” He smiled at me, and my heart might have fluttered if I harbored the slightest budding feelings for him. As it was, my glare hardened, and I wanted to slap Baekhyun for telling Sehun that he was my bias. 

Shaking my head, I brushed past Sehun to find Donghae. I thought that after wishing him a happy birthday in person, I could have justified leaving the party early.

I wasn’t surprised (just disappointed) that Sehun trailed closely behind, asking, “Why am I your bias, anyway, if you dislike me this much? Is it because of my visuals? That’s it, right? I’m the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen.” 

“As a matter of fact,” I rounded on Sehun, frustrated that he grinned at the attention as he held his hands up in mock surrender, “it’s your eyebrows. I like your eyebrows.”

“Oh.” Sehun laughed, leaning against a nearby table. “So this is what we’re doing? We’re listing what we like about each other?”

“No,” I said sternly. 

I knew that the more I resisted, the more he would pursue me. This was a game. I hated it, and I hated that my natural temperament made it drag on forever. 

“I don’t dislike you, Sehun, but when you act like this—”

“Like what?” He smirked. “Like the man of your dreams?”

“Like the total opposite,” I replied maybe a little too harshly. The festivities around us died down as some guests tried to listen to our conversation and even more relocated to carry on joyfully without having to hear us. 

I always felt bad at this part— when I snapped because I felt cornered, and Sehun stood still, staring at the ground like I had drawn blood. If I hurt him, then why did he keep flirting me? If this wasn’t a game, wouldn’t he get tired of rejection? 

If it was a game, it wasn’t fun for me. I didn’t like rejecting Sehun, and I didn’t like that I had to avoid him at events like this, but the fact remained: I wasn’t interested in him like that. I didn’t know how else to tell him. I didn’t like that he made me into this villain— or, worse, this unattainable ideal— just because it made me more interesting to him. 

I wasn’t something to chase: I was a person. Why couldn’t he understand that? Did I really have to explain it to him? 

Sehun met my eyes when he said, “I won’t give up,” for the thousandth time. 

I started to beg him to give up— or to at least stop blurring the lines between fantasy and reality— or to at least outright say that he liked me if that was the problem— but I didn’t get the chance. Donghae, Heechul, and Baekhyun crowded around the table, so I swallowed my concerns. 

“Wait a minute.” Heechul’s gaze flickered between me and Sehun. Dimples formed in his cheeks. “This isn’t the boy I usually see you with, Lei!”

Baekhyun laughed. Nudging Heechul, and, cupping around his mouth as if he was divulging a secret, Baekhyun explained, “This is another one of Lei’s suitors. Apparently she and Lucas are ‘just friends,’ much to the fans’ disappointment, and Sehun is ‘just her bias,’ much to Sehun’s disappointment.”

Sehun and I, at least, were united in the simultaneous rolling of our eyes as Baekhyun and Heechul cackled together. 

Sehun promised, “I’ll text you later, Lei,” and stalked away without responding to Baekhyun’s and Heechul’s harmonizing whistles. 

Donghae, who had been shifting uncomfortably since arriving at the table, asked the dreaded question, “Where’s your mom?” while Baekhyun and Heechul were too busy harassing Sehun to notice. 

Whatever he had done to upset Mom must have been an unwitting accident; Donghae smiled at the mere mention of her. For a second— a split second— I hated Mom for sending me into this situation where I had to break Donghae’s smile by answering, “She’s not here. She, um, isn’t feeling well.” 

“What?” Donghae, Heechul, and Baekhyun asked in unison. 

Heechul slipped away from the conversation without arousing Donghae’s or Baekhyun’s attention; their wide eyes were too focused on me to notice anything else. I wondered how mad Heechul would be when he drove to my house just to find Mom sitting (perfectly healthy) on the couch, probably watching episodes of their drama without him. 

“She’s not feeling well?” Donghae repeated. Tiny dimples formed in his chin as he realized, frowning, “She’s never missed one of my parties before. This one year, she came even though she had the flu, and I had to beg her to go home!”

“It’s very unlike her to miss a work event.” The sadness in Baekhyun’s voice was so exaggerated that I met his gaze anxiously. What was he up to? Mock concern flooded his eyes as he said, “She must be really sick, huh, Lei? Coughing and everything?”

Oh. I realized when the corner of Baekhyun’s lips twitched upward that he overheard my conversation with Lucas. I guess he had already proven through his successful kidnapping plot that he could keep his big mouth shut when he needed too; now, he proved it again by quietly eavesdropping on me and Lucas and using his knowledge to make me squirm. 

Note: Baekhyun was dangerous not just because he was cute. He was also sneaky. 

Unsure of how to maintain Mom’s lie when Baekhyun knew the truth, I nodded subtly. 

“It’s so weird how health can take such sudden turns for the worst.” Baekhyun shook his head and pounded his fist on the metallic navy blue table cloth. “Momager seemed fine when I talked to her earlier—” he paused to stage a dramatic gasp before asking, “You don’t think we’ll have to postpone the tour, do you? If Momager is sick, how can we leave first thing tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning?” Donghae’s eyes rounded as they looked to me for confirmation. “You’re leaving on tour tomorrow?”

I nodded, and I would have apologized to Donghae— even though I couldn’t explain why I was sorry— but Baekhyun interrupted by asking, “You don’t think she’s faking, do you? Do you think she had a hot date or something?”

Donghae gasped, “What?”

Glaring at Baekhyun, I answered through gritted teeth, “My mother would never prioritize any date over her work obligations.”

I didn’t expect Donghae to react by dropping his gaze somewhere on the table and wheezing, “I’m more than a work obligation, right?” 

“Yes, of course, absolutely,” I wanted to tell him. “You’re so important to us— to me and to Mom. You are a member of the first group she helped debuted, and you have been such a fixture in our life, and you’ve never been anything but kind and—”

Oh. My stomach tied in knots as I understood why Mom didn’t want to come to the party. The knots tightened as I realized how similar Mom and I were. Neither of us wanted to worry about anything other than performing our jobs well. Neither of us knew how to respond when somebody tried to cross that line between colleague and— I don’t know— boyfriend, so we always ran away. 

Oh. My heart sank as I wondered if I ever made Sehun frown the way Mom made Donghae frown with her mere absence. I doubted it, but the thought was still sickening. Maybe— maybe Mom thought that Donghae wouldn’t notice her absence among all the other party guests, but that misunderstanding didn’t lessen his very real disappointment right before my eyes. Maybe— maybe you don’t have to try to break a heart. 

Baekhyun must have been oblivious to mine and Donghae’s shared discomfort. He rattled on, “Maybe Momager isn’t as virtuous as you, Lei.” Although Donghae and I bore into him with our glares, Baekhyun suggested, lips pressed out in a tiny pout, “Maybe she’s more like the idol who never debuted.”

“This again?” I set my jaw and narrowed my eyes at the ceiling before telling Baekhyun, “I don’t know why you’re so hell-bent on believing that my mom is some failed trainee, and I don’t know why you’re stupid or cruel enough to keep saying it right in front of me, but you’re really pissing me off.” 

Storming out of the party after yelling at my leader the night before our world tour was probably the worst thing I had done in my entire career. I knew that even as my pulse sounded angrily in my ears, but I was too angry to swallow my pride and apologize to Baekhyun. 

Maybe I thought that the cool Autumn air outside would soothe my temper and enable me to do what would encourage a peaceful tour with SuperM. Maybe I knew that I wouldn’t return to the party no matter how many hours I wasted under the stars, trying to throw away the feelings I couldn’t express. 

Whatever I thought would come from running from my explosive emotions, I didn’t expect Donghae to find me. I didn’t expect him to say, wearing the same gentle smile as always (as if he hadn’t been frowning just moments before), “Come on. I’ll drive you home if you really don’t want to be here.” 

I stared at him, unable to blink, because those were exactly the words Taemin said by the lake last night before untying my wrists. I stared at him because I was trying to map the similarities between Donghae and Taemin. I couldn’t quite articulate it, but the same thing that made Donghae’s eyes tender made Taemin’s smile brilliant. What was it about them that I couldn’t understand— that I wanted to understand?

Had I been thinking clearly, I might have been able to understand. I might have considered that Mom probably didn’t want Donghae near our house; then, I wouldn’t have accepted his offer to drive me home. 

Often, I wonder what would have happened if Donghae hadn’t forced his way past Heechul into the house. I wonder if the truth would have come out some other day— some other way— instead. I wonder if events played out as they should have. I wonder what I could have done differently.

[maidenof-thesea]

Snakes & Butterflies | Part I

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: Soulmate Au!, Fluff, Angst, Smut (Maybe, still debating)

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: None

Note: Jungkook may not be my bias but let’s be real. He bhabie. And he knows it! I’m sorry, I know JImin is a main character and I have yet to introduce him but I promise he will appear very soon, all with good time. 

“Y/N”

“Y/N!” My mom yelled waking me up from my dream. 

“Why did you buy a king sized bed if you’re just gonna sleep on the couch?” My mom said already bustling around in my kitchen. Yuki, who almost looked annoyed, ran to the porch instead to finish her nap in the afternoon sun. “You do realize it’s already thirty minutes past noon?”

“Sorry, mom” I said stretching, exposing my belly. I went to hug her but she lifted up my shirt. “Hey!”

“You’re getting too skinny!” she said pinching my skin. “Why don’t you just move back in with me? I promise your father won’t mention marriage again. And you won’t have to take care of drunk tourists during the summer.”

I pulled my shirt down, feeling my face burn in embarrassment. Choosing to ignore her question, I sauntered over to the kitchen to see a pot of beans cooking and arroz already ready to go. I get a bowl to serve myself only for her to snatch it out of my hands.

“Don’t avoid my question!” she yelled smacking my hand when I went to reach another bowl. When she realized that I was not going to answer her question, she sighed in temporary defeat. “At least brush your teeth first.”

“Okay omma,” I said smiling, while running to the bathroom. 

“Did you watch that documentary on Netflix?” she asked, while serving me a bowl.

“Yea,” I said to the best of my ability while brushing my teeth. Once I reached for a fresh wash cloth in the linen closet, I saw my scar and I remembered my dream. Jimin. I know a Jimin, an old childhood friend, but he had moved away so long ago. But nothing more than that...I couldn’t even remember his face, let alone his Soulmate mark. So no way did I dream of a memory, but I must have dreamt of that because of my conversation with Fernando. “Hey mom, do you remember Jimin?”

“Jimin? That Korean boy you used to be friends with?” My mom said nonchalantly. “What was his cousin’s name? Jung-”

“Jungkook.” I answered. “The boy that looked like a-”

“A conejo!” my mom gushed causing me to widen my eyes. “He was so cute! I wonder how he grew up..”

She went on about how adorable he was that he must have grown into a handsome young man and that whomever his Soulmate was, was so lucky. I started to surf through my emails and I had an email from Jennie’s mom, sent this morning.

Hello Y/N, this is Jennie’s mom! I hope this email finds you okay! You probably already know that next week is when we open the cottage as an airbnb for the summer. I’ve attached a list of this season’s guests. They are all coming from South Korea this time! They should be arriving by next week but one did mention that he may arrive early since he is a student. You should expect him around 1 pm

All my love~

“MOM!” I yelled getting up from the table. “A guest is coming in 20 minutes!”

“QUE?! HIJA DE SU PU-”

“MOM! LANGUAGE!”

We started cleaning haphazardly. My mom was tidying up the living room, since she had already previously cleaned the kitchen. I ran up the stairs and got some fresh linens from a closet that I knew where Rosa, the housekeeper I had Jennie hire, kept them. I quickly sniffed them and determined them dusty. I ran back downstairs, almost tripping on the sheets.

“Be careful!” My mom yelled. “What are you doing?”

“Well Rosa doesn’t start till this weekend, so I’m gonna have to set up a room for them now!”

“You don’t have time to wash sheets!” My mom yelled as she stopped me from putting the sheets in the wash. “Just put them in the dryer with some dryer sheets and that should get rid of the dust.”

“You are a genius mom,” I said doing as she instructed. “The fridge-”

“I already cleaned the fridge and threw out old food cartons” My mom said. “I was planning on going grocery shopping for you since you work-”

“That’s fine,” I said making my way up the stairs to one of the spare bedrooms. “I’m off today which is lucky. And thanks, they may want to get groceries for themselves.” I started opening up all the windows, letting the wind in and the sun shine through. When I heard the dryer ding I ran for the sheets and ran back up the stairs and started making the bed. 

“Do you think they are running late?” My mom said dusting the furniture. “It’s been 30 minutes.”

“Jennie’s mom mentioned that he or she was a student at the university,” I said, putting the last pillow on the bed. “They may be taking public trans-” 

The doorbell rings and my body stiffen in surprise. I ran back down the stairs with my mom hot on my heels. In my hurry I had forgotten that my pajamas consisted of a tank top and shorts, completely leaving my arms exposed. I opened the door and a tall Korean boy stood at the door with a suitcase. I felt my heart drop and my blood run cold--speaking of the devil.

“Noona?” Jungkook said, cocking his head, his long jet black hair falling into his eyes. His front teeth were still the same as all those years ago. His eyes rank over my form and almost immediately, he zeroed in on my arm, the arm where my Soulmate mark should have been. Instead of surprise or even shock for that matter, his eyes were sad. Before I could even open my mouth, my mom grabbed my arm and swung me inside.

“Oh my! It’s my conejito!” My mom gushed with her arms spread open to hug him. I quickly scrambled to the coat closet to grab a jacket. “What a small world! Come on in, come on in!”

Jungkook giggled at her nickname for him and sauntered inside dragging his suitcase. He steps into the living room and Yuki then decides to greet him by rubbing on his ankles. His eyes widened in surprise and I quickly picked her up, my protective instincts kicking in.. 

“I’m sorry!” I say stepping back. “She isn’t usually this affectionate around strangers. Are you still allergic to cats?”

“No!” Jungkook said stepping closer and actually petting Yuki, to which she purred. “It’s fine! It’s not as bad as it was when we were kids.” He looked at me with a crinkle in his eyes. “I can’t believe you actually remembered that.”

“I’m not entirely sure how I did either…” I muttered as I readjusted the jacket back onto my shoulder. Once again, his gaze fell to my now covered arm. “So you are staying here for the summer?”

“Oh yes, me and my hyungs will be staying.” Jungkook said scratching his head. “They should be coming sometime next week.”

“Oh so does that mean Jimin will be coming?” my mom asked, handing him a cup of lemonade. “We haven’t seen you guys in forever, Y/N was just thinking about you and your cousin this afternoon.”

“Oh really?” He said sitting at the kitchen table. “It has been awhile, I actually just moved back to the States for school.”

“You guys moved back to South Korea?” I asked in surprise. I had always thought they just moved to a different city due to their parents' company. “I didn’t know that…”

“Yea,” Jungkook said sheepishly. “We had a family emergency.”

“Oh no!” my mom said sitting across from him. “I hope everything was okay!”

“Uhh..” Jungkook said nervously and looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

“Mom,” I said interjecting. “Don’t you have to head back home? Dad must be wondering where you are?”

“Oh you’re right!” my Mom said. “It was so nice seeing you Jungkook! Have a good time here, Y/N is such a good host!”

“Jungkook,” I said as my mom was gathering her belongings. “I already set up a room for you upstairs, if you want to settle in.”

“Okay noona,” Jungkook said smiling at me. As I followed my mom out the door, I turned around and Jungkook was looking at my arm, with a sad look in his eyes. So he saw, but his reaction was not what I expected. I closed the front door and my mom whirled on me. She smacks me on the arm.

“You should have been more careful!” She whispered/yelled. “What if he saw?!”

“He didn’t,” I lied. “I’m sorry, I should have been more careful.”

“Well, don’t forget to buy those temporary tattoos from my friend, okay?”

“I will mom.” I replied smiling while waving at her. “Say hi to Dad for me will you?”

She gives me an annoyed face and drives away. I look back at the house and I felt fear creep up my spine. Sweat started to bead at my brow, my fists were clenched and my heart was pounding in my ears. Shit. At this rate, I’ll have an anxiety attack. I took a deep breath and made my mind go blank. The sound of the waves relaxing me. I headed back inside and Jungkook was most likely in his room unpacking. As I headed up the stairs, the most angelic voice was singing, I couldn’t understand Korean but it was beautiful. Jungkook along with Yuki were in his bedroom and I felt hypnotized by his voice.

“Oh!” Jungkook said as he spotted me at the doorway. “Hi noona!”

“Hi Jungkook,” I said sheepishly, picking up Yuki. “I’m sorry about Yuki, she’s rubbing all over your clothes.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook said, folding the last of his clothes. “She’s really pretty, so it’s okay.”

“I hope you’ll be comfortable in this room, I sort of just found out this morning that you were coming,” I said awkwardly. “I wasn’t expecting you guys till next week.”

“I’m sorry about that!” Jungkook said a little awkward himself. “I finished my finals early and the hyungs wanted me to come here early to get groceries and whatnot for them.”

“No it’s okay,” I said shuffling my feet. “If you want, I can give you a ride to the grocery store? I was thinking of going shopping by myself.”

“Really?” Jungkook said with his cheeky smile. “I would be really glad, I was planning on taking an uber!” 

“Yea,” I said smiling, his smile was contagious. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be good to go!”

Once we arrived at my favorite grocery store, Jungkook proceeded to place a matter of things into his cart: seven loofahs, seven toothbrushes, seven men’s deodorants, etc. Huh I was gonna have seven guys living with me this summer. Great. Once we both had what we needed for the time being, we headed home. For the most part, Jungkook was acting normal, or at least wasn’t acting weird. Which was even more strange. From what I could remember people always had a reaction to my lack of a Soulmate mark. Growing up, kids were cruel, Jennie was constantly getting into fights with little brats that would call me loveless and all matter of cruel things. She was my only friend and even though she had a beautiful feather Soulmate mark, she never looked at me differently. Even when she had already found her Soulmate Lisa. They were on their honeymoon in Greece. 

We had gotten everything situated in the fridge, decided to just use labels on things we weren’t willing to share, but the rest such as milk, eggs and juice we would be okay with sharing as long as we would replace whatever we finished. Next I showed him where the laundry room was, so that he could wash his own clothes, at least till Rosa started working. 

“So I typically make meals every now and then,” I stated. “But you guys are welcome to cook for yourselves. We have a visitor policy, no one can spend the night but I’m okay with it as long as you notify me ahead of time.”

“Noona,” Jungkook said, blushing as he interrupted me. “How did you get this job?”

“Um well, my friend’s parents let me stay here under the condition that I manage it as an airbnb during the summer for super cheap.”

“Friend?”

“Yea, her name is Jennie Kim, Remember her?”

“Oh,” He said rubbing his head. A message dinged and my notification sound was BB-8’s alert from Star Wars. “Oh wow, you still like Star Wars?”

“Of course! Kylo Ren is my husband.” I said nonchalant as I read my mom’s text message.

Mom[4:58 pm]: Cassandra said you can go by tonight to get a Henna tattoo since the special stick on tattoos hasn’t come in yet.

“I have to go Jungkook,” I said slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

“Of course,” he said petting Yuki. “Will you be long?”

“Maybe,” I said glancing at the clock. “I have to drive to San Ysidro.”

“What? Why?” He said worriedly. “I heard that place is dangerous once the sun goes down.”

“I have an appointment with a massage therapist,” I lied, avoiding eye contact and turning around heading out the door. “I’ve been there countless times, I should be fine.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook said following me outside. “I am not comfortable with this.”

“I can take care of myself,” I muttered a bit annoyed. “I am older than you Jung-”

“Is this about your arm?” Jungkook said grabbing said arm. “Because if it is-”

“Jungkook,” I said, taking my arm out of his grasp. “I understand that you may feel obligated to me because we were childhood friends, but please don’t pretend that you know the first thing about me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said, taking a step back. “But I just don’t think it’s worth risking your safety.”

“I’m sorry too,” I sighed in defeat. BB-8 chimed again and I’m sure it’s my mom asking me if I was gonna go or not. “We can talk more about this when I get back. I’m pretty sure you have questions, especially with what’s been going on lately.”

“Can I at least go with you?”

“Look,” I swung my bag around, so that I could rummage through to find my taser, to show him “I got my safety covered, plus Miss Cassandra doesn’t trust outsiders.” 

“Fine,” Jungkook sighed, pulling his phone out. “At least give me your phone number.” 

“Fine,” I agreed, reaching for his phone and typing in my number. “I’ll be back for dinner.”

“Noona,” Jungkook said. “You want to watch Star Wars later on?”

“Yea,” I said smiling. “Maybe we can watch Iron Man too.” His eyes widened in shock and he nodded quickly with a blinding smile. How has he stayed the same all these years?

Prev / Next 

Masterlist  

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 1991

Weirdly enough, even if I was only 3 years old, there is one (1) song on this list which is there purely because of nostalgia, so.... yep, this is where the nostalgia bias actually starts, believe it or not.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

This list was wayyyy easier to make than the previous ones and I’ve actively listened to everything on it at some point or another in my life.

Also, after 1989 my sources for the French year-end lists are way more reliable, so that’s always something.

10 - Fading Like a Flower (Roxette)

US: #44 / FR: Not on the list

I swear this was already on this list in my drafts before reading the recent news. It was a bit of a shock.

Rest in peace.

9 - Shiny Happy People (REM)

US: #100 / FR: #86

Long ago, I saw someone calling this song REM’s worst song because it was, and I quote, “too happy to feel genuine, to the point of being disturbing”.

Implying that’s a flaw and not a feature.

8 - Je t’Aime Mélancolie (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #39

I don’t know who told Mylène Farmer she could mumble rap but that person needs to be found and... uh, and nothing, because the verses kinda suck but they’re just mildly annoying at worst and kinda funny at best. The music and the chorus are great though, to the point where I’m willing to put up with the rest.

That’s the point where someone who knows about her discography would go “but Johannes if you wanted to put an average MF hit song from 1991 on this list, Regrets was right there” and to that I’d answer “does this list look like a funeral?”

7 - Wind of Change (Scorpions)

US: #39 / FR: #3

Oooooh I listened to this a lot when I was 16. I even bought a battered vinyl version I found in a garage sale, just for collector purposes. You all know it, and I don’t have anything particularly interesting to say about it, but yeah, still great song to this day.

6 - Poupée Psychédélique (Thierry Hazard)

US: Not on the list / FR: #8

It’s a song mocking fashion and some of the ridiculous standards expected from women - the singer basically makes a long list of qualities and clothes for his completely artificial “psychedelic doll” who has “infinite legs” but who’s also made of “100% synthetic matter” and “needs batteries”.

This song is the one which landed on the list purely because of nostalgia, though. According to my father, little Johannes would start dancing every time it was on the radio, and yeah, I remember not getting most of the words of the song, nor, of course, the subtext. To tiny me, this was clearly a song about a guy who had an incredibly cool doll and wanted to tell the whole world about it.

I still like the song a lot today, mind you.

5 - The One and Only (Chesney Hawkes)

US: #93 / FR: Not on the list

This is on my “Fitz Kreiner” playlist and it’s one of my chosen theme songs for Fitz. I only discovered it a few years ago but I enjoy it a lot.

4 - Né en 17 à Leidenstadt (Fredericks, Goldman & Jones)

US: Not on the list / FR: #64

Nothing I could say would make that one justice if you don’t know about it yet (which I kind of expect since I’m pretty sure most of my followers don’t speak French to begin with), so here’s the song itself, and here’s a translation.

I love it but I respect it even more, to be honest.

3 - Losing My Religion (REM)

US: #33 / FR: #16

I have a strange history with this one, because it used to be very high on my lists of favorite songs. VERY.

And then... I don’t know. I got fed up with it in absolute record time. And it disappeared from my lists, my tapes, my head, everything. I genuinely don’t know. I still like it, I guess? It’s fine?

What happened? It’s like someone used one of these memory-wipe things from Men In Black to make me forget why I ever liked this song. ♫ That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spotlight, losing my favorite songs ♫

I’ve got no clue. It’s still #3 for this 1991 list, though.

2 - Crazy (Seal)

US: #75 / FR: #31

I. Adore. This song.

I mean. Of course I do, it’s almost at the top of this list. But hear me out. For literal years, I only had one (1) partial recording of it on a tape, beginning in the middle of the last sentence of the first verse, I didn’t know who was singing it or what it was called, I labelled it “? a little crazy?” on the sticker, and that was it. And yet I would listen to that song a lot. A looooooot. It is that good, and it’s a shame I never really connected with this guy’s songs again afterwards, but that one right there? Amazing.

I finally found what it was around 2004, and it instantly claimed a spot on my top 30, right next to friggin Moonlight Shadow.

If it was any other year, it would claim the top spot very easily.

Alas, this is 1991. There was always going to be one obvious winner and no one else.

1 - Désenchantée (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #2

I will forever be salty about this monster of a hit being denied its year-end #1 on the FR chart by a terrible novelty song. F o r e v e r.

About 17 years after I first made contact with Mylène Farmer, I’m no longer a real fan, I’m aware all of her stuff is deeply flawed and always was, and she’s mostly made some pretty subpar music since then.

None of this matters one bit because this song about a “disenchanted generation” is a f█cking amazing accidental Millenial anthem and it's still relevant to this day (”everything is chaos around me / all my ideals are just damaged words / I’m looking for a soul who’d be able to help me / I’m from a disenchanted generation / disenchanted”).

Did I like it back when I was making my lists on paper, though?

Um.

Yeah.

A fair bit.

And it’s accompanied by a ten-minutes-long music video depicting a rebellion against some generic unnamed fascist regime in some sort of prison or camp, and ending with the victorious rebels facing an endless plain and wondering where to go next and where to start again. The music video itself is, again, very flawed but still impressive and I really like the general idea of “rebellion is difficult, and messy, and scary, and sometimes it has to happen regardless of all of that”.

If you’ve never seen this music video before (the actual song starts around 1:30), well, it’s Mylène Farmer right in the middle of her Ultimate Goth Phase(tm) (for crying out loud there’s a crow on the album cover) so, uh, here’s various trigger warnings for fire, people getting hit in various ways, firearms, stones and glass bottles being thrown, blood, rats, and also, someone eating a bug. Enjoy, or not.

Also, this is what convinced me to cut my hair super short as soon as I was able to do so (2003 - my mother was not pleased) AND to wear a black cap on my head. I still have that cap. I still wear it. That’s just a footnote but yeah. Thanks, Désenchantée. I owe you one.

Next up: the list where I definitely lose the respect of everyone reading these lists hoping for actual quality.

[captainchrisfics]

The Book

About: A first person pov narrator released a book about S.H.I.E.L.D. and let’s just say she didn’t give it a stellar review after Natasha released all of the records. It struck a chord with Steve so he tries to confront the author, but ultimately she ends up comforting him instead.

Word Count: 2,901

“One of the best contemporary attempts at grappling with the unfortunate truth that even our heroes are human. This book is a triumph for unraveling and understanding the honest history of America.” -The New York Times

I leaned back in my office chair for support, absolutely astonished that my work had received such a positive review. My book about S.H.I.E.L.D.’s, for lack of a better word, shit-stained history was just recently released into the world. It was my first and I’d been working on it forever, although when Black Widow released all of their classified files it made my job a hell of a lot easier. Still, it felt like baring my soul to the whole world and allowing them to judge me, giving everyone with an opinion the opportunity to pick me apart. Much to my relief, most of the feedback was praise.

Publishing this book was more nerve-wracking and all-consuming than I could ever even start to explain- it’s taken years, but thankfully the countless late nights I spent typing away at my laptop paid off. After receiving my post as a history professor at NYU, I felt like I’ve been playing catch up constantly. It’s not that I’m under-qualified. Just that most of my colleagues were much older and more established than myself, which has been entirely daunting. But the success of my book has given me the leg up I needed to stop second-guessing if I belong at this desk.

I was pulled from my thoughts by an angry voice calling my name from down the hall and asking where my office was. I sat straighter, craning my neck to try to get a better look as I listened. “Where is she?” whoever it was repeated again, this time with more urgency and anger. Through the crack of my office door which hung ajar, I saw the silhouette of a man with a frame that made me feel dwarfed just looking at him.

The secretary surrendered once he slammed a hand on her desk, probably scaring the hell out of her. He took a step back from her and apologized profusely for his outburst in a guilt-ridden tone. Then, he stepped toward my door, slowly at first then all at once. I braced myself, trying to swallow every ounce of anxiety trying to burst from my stomach. He knocked on my door, pushing it open with an arm swollen with intimidating muscles, without waiting for my welcome.

He took a seat opposite me at the other side of my desk so quickly I didn’t have time to protest. I noticed he carried a copy of my book, one that was already so worn and filled with post-its popping out from all of its edges, even though it had to be a recent purchase. I thought, maybe he was a curious student at best? A crazed fan at worst? As I tried to rationalize what gave this man any right to storm into my office, all of my questions were answered when he took off his disguise (if you could even call it that, I don’t know how I didn’t recognize him sooner).

Without the raised hood and tinted sunglasses, it was apparent that the person sitting about two feet away from me was none other than Captain America himself. I cleared my throat, trying to sit straighter if it was even possible. Stunned, I closed my mouth and opened it again a few times before stuttering, “Steve Rogers, sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I reached across my desk as I extended my hand to him. I watched as it hovered in the air, shaking with my nerves while he stared for too long before finally meeting me in the middle for a handshake. “I wish it was under better circumstances ma’am,” he said in a tone that toed the line between measured and seething.

My eyebrows stitched together in confusion as I gulped down my nerves again. I certainly didn’t want to be on this super hero’s shit list. “I imagine it has something to do with my book,” I said, eyeing the copy in his hand.

“It is a gross assassination of an organization that has done more to protect you and millions of other Americans than you will ever know,” Steve asserted, cracking the spine as he opened the book too harshly. He read a number of my lines to me, followed by the well-worded critiques I assumed he’d scribbled on his notes.

“And this thing you wrote here about when my team and I rescued Bucky from Hydra- that isn’t even how it happened!” Steve went on, tossing a hand up in the air as if it gave his point any more power. He told me the story in a way I’d never heard it in any other account, but it wasn’t fair.

“Can I stop you there?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest with a little huff. Steve paused as he turned the page, the breath he’d sucked in to fuel his next rant sitting idle in his puffed chest. I pushed up my glasses, trying to appear more authoritative in the face of the super soldier. “I’ve dedicated the past few years of my life to following others’ research and doing my own extensively. I understand that you know the truth since you were there, but the rest of us weren’t so you can’t hold historians to your standard as a breathing primary source when we’ve been picking through false narratives and speculation since you crash landed in Antarctica.” I raised my eyebrows at him, inviting him to challenge me.

“With all due respect,” Steve said, though his tone would suggest otherwise. He was all but seething, the muscle tightening with the clench of his jaw gave him away despite his attempt to appear unbothered. “I’ve dedicated the past few years to ensuring you have that freedom and before that it was Peggy. We’re a part of that history and if you’re going to tell our stories then you should be telling the truth. I’m not saying you should know everything, but if you aren’t at least trying then why are you writing this book at all?”

I let Steve’s question hang in the air, familiar with the sharp look on his face. I’ve been teaching long enough to know when someone would always insist they were right. Especially in a field like history, where so much is left to interpretation, there’s so many disagreements and so many people who refuse to accept that they might be wrong. The sureness in his hard, blue eyes and tightness of his jaw told me he wouldn’t accept anything short of being right about this.

In an attempt to remain open to criticism. I sighed, leaning back in my chair as I waved a hand to signify he had the floor. “Go on,” I muttered. I had to give it to Steve, he made some great points. From his perspective, I could see how I hadn’t countered my bias as much as I could have and I was open to considering that I may not have every fact straight.

Some points however, like how he said I criticized Peggy Carter for failing to ensure there weren’t any double agents when that was often impossible especially in an organization as large as S.H.I.E.L.D., were unfounded. Steve went on and on as he vented more than anything, tearing each post it out after he said his piece and tossed them into my recycling bin. The pile was so high I worried they would start an avalanche. He reached a point where he was projecting his frustrations onto my work and misinterpreting what I meant, which was coincidentally when his voice started to raise and the veins on his forehead became more pronounced. Once Steve stopped to take a breath, I seized my opportunity to interject.

“Mr. Rogers, firstly allow me to thank you for your service. I should have earlier, but I was pretty caught off guard by all of this,” I laughed nervously, gesturing between the two of us. He nodded and muttered a quiet thank you, leaning back in the chair he barely fit in between the arms of. “Now,” I continued, not pegging Steve Rogers as the interrupting type. “You of all people should know the destruction S.H.I.E.L.D. caused, all of the damage they were capable of doing. I mean, for decades there were Nazis embedded in the structure of an organization meant to protect us and we were none the wiser,” I said, trying to refrain from using my lecture voice on a guy who could be my grandpa.

Steve cracked a smile, though I didn't get the joke. He was probably thinking about how I didn’t know the half of it- which was partly true. Nothing I could read could compare to his life experience. I had to stop my internal nerd from entirely reveling in the fact that such an important piece of living history was just an arm’s reach away from me. I had to stay on task, especially since I was defending myself and my work.

“I’m a historian first and an American citizen second, in my opinion. I want to pursue the truth, understand it and help others make sense of it, even if it paints my country in a poor light and especially when it is difficult to do so,” I said, gaining confidence with each moment he continued to listen to me. Steve nodded, seeming to find common ground with me on this sentiment at least. After all, he has the reputation of prioritizing his moral compass over the law and order even as a soldier.

“I apologize for any hurt or frustration my book has caused you and I assure you that some of your criticisms were just misunderstandings, maybe due to my presentation.” I bit my lip, always one to have trouble with actually admitting when I was wrong. Even so, Steve had a right to how my book made him feel and I felt an obligation to apologize for it.

I could see the hurt rise in his perfectly blue eyes again once I brought it up. Steve shrunk even more into the chair, looking like a dud firecracker that’d finally fizzled out. “It’s just that-” Steve’s voice caught in his throat, seemingly unsure of how to find its way out. He swallowed and started again. “I’m sorry if this is overstepping any bounds, ma’am. Your book just struck a chord with me. Since Peggy’s death,” his voice cracked, stopping him for a second as he composed himself. “I just miss her so much and…” Steve didn’t finish his thought. As the tears started to escape his eyes, he dropped his gaze to the floor.

It was strange watching a superhero break down. Sure, we always see their victories on every news station and even hear about their shortcomings on occasion. But watching Captain America cry, his shoulders shaking and his lungs gasping as he wept, somehow made me feel weak. Seeing the symbol of America’s strength, someone so intrinsically connected to this country, grieving the loss of Peggy Carter was almost appropriate. It didn’t stop my heart from trying to leap out of my chest or the yearning I had to wrap this stranger up in a hug until he could breathe again. Before I could process what I was feeling, let alone make an attempt to comfort him, Steve sat up straight again. He had a stoic expression and seemed to be begging me to ignore what had just happened with his puffy eyes. I couldn’t.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” I said softly, reaching across the desk to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. I tried not to notice how his muscle bulged, tightening uncomfortably at my touch. “I can understand how you could take my criticism of her creation as an attack on her character. Honestly, I love Peggy Carter so much,” I gushed, letting a little bit of that nerd loose.

“As a kid with a passion for U.S. history, you can imagine there aren’t many women to look up to. Fewer compare to her strength and courage. She’s such an inspiration to me and so many others, I never meant to speak badly of her.” I tried to maintain a steady tone as I held such intense eye contact with Steve, his eyes welling up with tears again.

Steve chuckled a little, though it was still so sad. “She was a badass huh?” he smiled as he remembered her fondly. Peggy had just died recently. It still must have been so raw for Steve, someone who knew her so well. I always thought their story was so interesting; the way they loved each other to each of their ends was the kind of fascinating story that made history so interesting to me.

That changed when Steve Rogers of all people stormed into my office. They weren’t just characters in my textbook. He was a real person whose strong jaw tightened when he was angry, who defended those he cared about, who cried until he couldn’t catch his breath. She was someone he loved so deeply, and so much more than that.

“Language,” I chastised jokingly. Steve grew tense and apologized, taken aback by my scolding. Watching him squirm only made me laugh harder. Once I reassured him I was only kidding, Steve seemed to think it was pretty funny.

“She definitely was,” I resigned as we grew serious again before launching into a story about how she fought fiercely on behalf of the first woman who was elected to Congress, defending her in the face of every press-concocted scandal. Steve’s eyes lit up as he laughed, saying that the Peggy he knew was no different. He told me about the time she punched some pig-headed soldier so hard he passed out after he’d called her Queen Victoria.

By the end of our meeting, which lasted nearly two hours even though it felt like minutes, we’d swapped so many stories it felt like I knew her. Steve caught his breath from laughing after I told him a particularly funny thing about a time she told off Howard Stark. He cleared his throat before saying, “Thank you for this.” I tried to brush it off and tell him not to worry about it, but Steve cut in. “Really, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like someone gets it.” He reached across my desk and held my hand as if I was anchoring him. It sent sparks up like watching that firecracker reignite with my touch.

I just smiled at him, not quite sure where to go from here. Steve stood and I followed suit. We just looked at each other for what seemed like too long of a moment. I smiled awkwardly, ready to excuse us from this uncomfortable situation with the justification that I had a class soon, which wasn’t a lie. Instead, Steve pulled me close to his chest from across my desk as he wrapped his arms around me. I was immediately enveloped in a comforting safety. Steve seemed to radiate protection, even more so when you’re pressed so tightly against his chest you could almost feel his heartbeat. “Thank you again,” he whispered in my ear, causing my skin to erupt with goosebumps.

I nodded, feeling so small and feeble in comparison. I felt like that wasn’t good enough though. I mean, I know there’s no instruction manual for handling a superhero who stormed into your office before bursting into tears. Still, it didn’t feel like this was the way we were supposed to end. Steve pulled away, smiling at me so sweetly with a tenderness in those beautiful baby blues I couldn’t ignore.

Before I could think twice, my lips moved almost in muscle memory despite being so out of my depth. “I have to go teach a class soon,” I said too quickly as the words tumbled out of my mouth. I had to ask before I could get in my own way. Steve sighed and nodded slightly, stepping to the side to make room for me to leave. I couldn’t say if it was true, but I thought he looked disappointed with his eyes to the ground and the corners of his mouth drooping ever so slightly. Throughout our conversation, I noticed Steve seemed to be too stoic to read half the time.

Instead of grabbing my briefcase and making my way to the education building a few blocks over, I kept talking. “Would you maybe want to get coffee later? We could keep doing… whatever this is,” I concluded, nervously rocking from my heels to my tiptoes subconsciously. Steve perked up immediately, lifting his head to look at me with this adorable twinkle in his eye. He hid it behind his sunglasses before pulling up his hoodie again, looking nothing like any random guy walking down the street now that I knew he was Captain America. The next thing I’d have to expose S.H.I.E.L.D. for would be their pathetic disguises. Steve’s smile was crooked as he said, “I’d really like that.”

[ryoshan]

whew this idea came so spur of the moment so scuse the reused banner. so it’s christmas right? i hope you’re all having a wonderful day regardless whether you celebrate or not, and to those having rubbish days: don’t worry, it’ll be over soon, and in the meantime there’s always wholesome videos of an elderly british gay man who loves dogs on yt! this christmas also marks a year (ish, since i don’t remember the exact day we opened blogs) since me and @gainhope​ joined rwby rp on tumblr. back then we were just a yang and a ruby, now we here covering most of the cast between us!  

now, i know the rwby rpc has had its up and downs over the last year, but for me (despite the few months where the hiatus totally got the better of me) it’s been a majority of ups. i don’t think i’ve ever connected with a community so strongly since 2012 dragon age rpc before inquisition came out. i don’t think i’ve ever made so many close friends so fast, and it’s those that make an rp experience, in my humble opinion. so here’s a little list of the people i personally want to thank. please don’t be sad if you’re not mentioned!! this isn’t a follow forever, it’s not a bias list, it’s a shout-out to the friends that have made the last year in rwby rp as fulfilling as it has been. 

best friend squad

@gainhope​ / you’re the ruby to my yang, the rose to my white. there’s so much i could say about you that can’t fit in a single paragraph. i wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for you, but it’s so much bigger than that, because our friendship has been a staple in my life long before you introduced rwby to it. i wouldn’t be half the person i am without the love and support you’ve given me, and it’s been a damn pleasure to watch you grow in every aspect of your life too. we’ve seen each other through some tough times in the last year, and we’ve had some of the most fun i’ve had all year too. life isn’t nearly as big and scary, no matter what’s going on, while i have you by my side. i love you more than anything, and here’s to another year writing infinites together. 

@galateian​ / again i cant fit everything i could say about you in one paragraph. you’ve supported me through some incredible bollocks, you’ve suffered through glasgow on friday night with me, and our discord pins are a source of such utter joy i’ll never be sad again. i can talk to you about anything, and i fcuken do, and i don’t know where i’d be through more than just this last year without you. can you believe it’s been what, six years? i sure can’t, and here’s to six more, possibly in guam, definitely with no less than 16 dogs and an absolute shed load of ugly furniture, loved like only we can. ily jen. 

@nvvrrmorr​ / holy shit can you even believe it’s been almost a year since i drunkenly dragged you into a long conversation where i danced around the ‘hey maybe winter and raven should fuqqq 👀’ thing? we got so close so fast and i can’t thank you enough for sticking around past some Weird Relationship Drama you got roped into so early in our friendship, cause frankly, this year would have been a lot emptier without you in it. i love you to bits, i love our late night overwatch sessions, i love the unerring support you give me even when i’m legitimately being shit, and i love how easily we write,,, anything and everything together. bring on 2019 aye? 

@liluura​ / we’ve come so far from me (anxiously) and jess dragging you into some cracky banter (and you being too dang FAST for our punchline) to walking down the streets of amsterdam telling you about the last time i took a shit. it’s incredible how quickly we became close, and even more incredible that not an inch of that closeness has been lost in a year where our interests have aligned, and then not, and then come together again. thank you for being you, and for being there for me, especially through one of the scariest few days of my life. i would have made it home without you after the netherlands debacle, i’m sure, but not nearly as calm having spent almost the whole day with you. i love you, soph, and i hope we’ve got many more years of friendship ahead of us. 

the rarest of peeps / @washuman, @herguidance, @thuskindlyiscatter​ / you guys are absolute treasures to me. we don’t talk every day, but i’m always comfortable approaching yous with the most ridiculous of things. all three of you have written such fantastic stuff with me from sad siblings, to multiple developed ships. the things you have in common? fucken rarepairs man. pour one out for cinwin, glynter and catrilia to be quite fucken honest. also, all three of yous support my need to talk about charlie nonstop, so thank you. 

horny bastards / @gcrdens & @hoardofheroes​ / ofc i had to mention you two together. it’s been pretty recent that i’ve gotten to know you two, but i couldn’t not include yous on this post because of the sheer impact you’ve had in such a short amount of time. you’ve both made me a braver smut writer. it’s not the only thing i love about your writing by far, but there’s something so refreshing about seeing yous unashamedly write your muses making babies (literally) all over the dash. yous are inspiring, and i hope we stay friendly for a long time. 

team rryp! / @veiliisms, @paramithi, @ancestryfated​ (and dee, whose blog i can’t fucken find) / listen guys, we might not all talk as much as we did once upon a time, but team rryp will always hold a special place in my heart as being a time i dove into social interaction with (almost) strangers and lived to tell the tale. it might not seem like a big deal, but sending dabbing asks of all things as part of a group made it so much easier in the long run to approach people in future and man, what a great way to do it. i love you guys so much. 

special mention / @lunyrd​ / not only have you been like a happy cheerleader behind me constantly throughout my rp experience, you’re a gem in my twitter feed as well. a day i wake up and you’ve tagged me in a tweet is a good damn day. lets do more writing this year, aye? i’ll get my finger out and get some starters up! 

honorable mentions! / last but not least, maybe we don’t talk a lot or rp a lot (which should change js), but you guys have blessed my rp experience in some way, be it liking mosts or just filling the dash with inspiring content. i love you guys. / @tadmean, @wellbloomed, @canefought, @tyriannical, @becomeshield, @becomestorm, @gracedly 

[goodnightkisseu-main]

Bias/Bias Wrecker Tag~

So Chelle @prettywordsyouleft tagged me in this forever ago, and I was recently inspired to get my act together and do this tag!

Rules: list the groups you like, your bias, and your bias wrecker. tag 10 people

So as you will all find from this list, I don’t stan a lot of groups. It’s not that I don’t want to, but rather I have a hard time focusing on a bunch of groups at once. You’ll see that a majority of the groups I do stan came out during or before my college days when I had much more time. But now, with work and projects outside of work, it’s always been easier for me to focus on one or two at a time, so this list may not be that extensive ><” 

Everything is under the ‘read more’ because this post is LONG. Here we go!

Wanna One

Bias: Ong Seongwu/Yoon Jisung

I bias Seongwu and Jisung for very different reasons, but they’ve always been really special to me. Seongwu just kind of came into my life like a freight train back during PD101. Like he showed up during his audition, took my heart, and never let go of it. I just found him so interesting at the time, and the more I learned about him, the more that I adored him. He’s really stuck to me as far as biases go and I don’t know if I’ve ever fallen for someone as quickly as I have with Seongwu.

With Jisung, he became my bias out of admiration. I’ve talked about it a few times, but when PD101 had started, I was still unemployed and trying to break into the video game industry. It’s really hard to do when you don’t have any experience, and I really thought I wasn’t going to make it. Hearing that Jisung didn’t give up even though he was considered old to be debuting, really motivated me to keep trying. I eventually did get into the video game industry and I couldn’t have been happier. He keeps me motivated to keep trying new things, and even maybe start a side-business, we shall see. XD

Bias Wrecker: Kang Daniel

This should be of no surprise to anyone, mostly if you’ve followed my main blog/this blog for a while. Though he’s recently been promoted to bias level, Daniel was my Wanna One bias wrecker for a really long time, dating back to PD101. He caught my eye pretty early when he was talking about how idols should be able to do everything and I remember thinking, ‘huh, this guy’s got an awesome way of thinking’ and from that point it just got worse OTL Between ‘Get Ugly,’ and ‘Hands on Me’ everything just went downhill… and then Wanna One actually debuted and Daniel just kept pulling at my heart ;; Admittedly we’re both very similar in our interests and our overall personalities feel like they would mesh well, so I suppose that’s why I’ve always been drawn to him, but refused to admit it for like a year and a half. Then on his birthday rolled around this past year and he just became an official bias, lol. Daniel does weird things to my heart that I thought only Seongwu could and that is a feat. ><

EXO

Bias: Kai

So, are you all ready for a ride because my Exo-heavy days were a mess XD So, I started stanning Exo when they debuted. Yes, I was there during the whole ‘everyone has a superpower thing.’ But back then, Jongin wasn’t the one that caught my eye. I was more drawn to Lay, Kris and Luhan at the time. Honestly, given that I was in college, it was probably the fact that they were older than me that really drew me to them, amongst other things. But as the years past, and the lineup got shuffled, I was just kind of confused as to who I liked? So my feelings changed, particularly towards Kai, and somewhere along the way, he just became my bias. I think at the beginning I didn’t really see all of the hype with him, but he really grew on me. He’s sweet and insanely adorable when he isn’t doing sinful things on stage and I really adore that cute side to him ;__;

Bias Wrecker: ... … … Sehun

So fun fact for everyone. I didn’t used to have a bias wrecker in EXO because my biases were always kind of a mess to begin with? I mean, if you read why Kai became my bias you would know that it’s always been a bit of a mess for me on the EXO side of things. So there was never really a bias wrecker because of that. That is…until now. Sehun was someoneI had always kind of kept an eye on, but never really thought of him as a bias wrecker until recently. As one of my friends liked to put it, his recent glo up is just making everyone quake and I have been added to that list. ;____; This is too much, sir. It should not be allowed!!! As you can see, Exo’s maknae line is dangerous for my heart ;;

TVXQ/JYJ

Bias: Jaejoong

So I’m putting these two together because I was a Cassie back when it was still 5 members of TVXQ and my goodness my teenage heart had the biggest crush on Jaejoong. Like the biggest. I couldn’t even hide it >_> I legit bought magazines cuz I knew they had a teeny section on TVXQ >< Very much an oppa bias. He still makes my heart to weird things. The rocker vibes have always been a plus.

Bias Wrecker: Changmin

The sass since always. The fact that he just kind of said whatever he wanted on variety shows. Legit what is there not to love about Changmin? Well, other than my Jaejoong feels back in the day. He’s a bias now, but back then, Changmin was a bias wrecker XD

Infinite

Bias: Woohyun

Woohyun is another one that has been a bias form the beginning. It was weird, I remember seeing him in the ‘Come Back Again’ video and I just thought, ‘He’s the one I like.’ XD I do still adore him very much.

Bias Wrecker: Myungsoo

Myungsoo was also a bias wrecker from the beginning honestly. If any of you followed me from when I was whwoohyun, you’d know the struggles that Myungsoo gave me OTL Also, what’s with all of the boys, biases and bias wreckers and cats, yo?

CNBLUE

Bias: Jonghyun

I never really questioned why I adored Jonghyun so much. I just do. Pretty sure it was the guitar that pulled me in. >< I also really like his attitude towards things.

Bias Wrecker: Jungshin

Maybe it’s cuz he and Jonghyun were the Tom and Jerry pairing for me for a long time but, Jungshin definitely had moments where I really thought he was going to become a bias. He’s close, you guys ;;

 And that’s it! Yeah, some of this (all of this) is kind of a mess, but for people that want to know me better and kind of want to know the groups I stan, here you go! I won’t be tagging anyone, but feel free to say I tagged you if you want to do this ^^ 

Also if you sat through this entire post, you are amazing, and I’m sorry it was so long ;;

[calzonekestis]

So, I’m older. I’ve got about 1130 followers. Gonna give a shout out to my homies, with a follow forever/bias list thing where I also compliment y’all bc you deserve it.

@prof-anity Davis is my best friend in the world. Davis is my best friend in the sea.

@thelordvader Bethany is the coolest nerd I know. She’s smart, witty, pretty (selfie game unparalleled), and pretty… much always right. We had been mutuals for years but somehow over the past two years or so became friends and it is still an honor.

@viktorfrankensteins Listen I’ve followed Royan for a while bc Bethany did and I trust Bethany’s judgement, but in just a matter of a few months Royan somehow managed to become one of my most beloved and valued friends. I’ve only known her for a short while but if anything happened to her I would kill everyone on this hell site and then myself.

@jjoelswatch Sarah is honestly one of the first people I remember following on tumblr, like back around 2012, and it’s bc of her I became exposed to Bethany and like… I don’t even know when we really became friends? After being mutuals for so long, it just sort of happened and she’s been a constant and comforting presence ever since. Except when she sends me sad Star Wars videos. That’s not comforting. She’s one good natured people I’ve encountered on the internet tho.

@thealbooty  Alberto is someone I met through Davis years ago, and again, I don’t even know how it happened. One day they were just there, and tho I don’t talk to them nearly enough they are just one of the nicest and raddest people you could meet. I’ve seen them grow from a youngling into an Adult, and gosh, the word could use more people like them. Kind, pure, smart, amazing, spectacular. Killer eyebrows, tbh.

@frostborn is someone who I believe I first encountered through the wonderful ladies listen above, and she herself is just really nice and awesome? She’s another person I don’t talk to nearly enough, but she’s just a lovely presence on my dash. Always liking and reblogging things, making me feel valid.

@rocktheholygrail Dana makes gifs and things, and is always willing to let me exploit her skill by taking requests. She’s also just super chill and friendly, and likes my selfies when I post them, ergo she also makes me feel valid. We also enjoy the same terrible bleached asshole, which I’m not gonna give any context for whatsoever. That’s a bond that connects us tho~

@readytocomply IDEK how or when I started following Stef. She’s another person who is just super nice and chill. She’s talented when it comes to both edits and cosplay. She’s just a great person and I’m glad I know her.

@uncleclustersthirdbrain and @helenawayne, I hope you’re not offended by me lumping you together, but I mean… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Two people who I also first encountered around 2012ish, when I was an obnoxious outspoken teenager. We kind of drifted apart and fell out of touch for a while, but we reconnected actually around this time last year. Because Donnie’s fucking talented, and I wanted to reach out and tell him that I was happy for him/proud of him. Buy his comics here. Morgan ofc is also talented, and has a YouTube channel here. They’re just both good people, who care about people, and they have a cute dog.

@88ecto Derek is someone I’ve respected for going on a decade but somehow over the past year or so, we’ve become really good friends? I’m not even sure how that happened, it’s still surreal for me. He’s actually the one person on this list I’ve had the pleasure of actually meeting. Not to sound like a broken record, but he truly is just a good person. Also, plug.

@apol-lo Cristian. Again, someone who I don’t talk to nearly enough. He’s a good person. Another person who I’ve seen grow up, better himself. He should be proud, cause I’m proud of him. You’ve did alright for yourself, buddy.

@diaryofawriter Again, I don’t remember I met Jess tbh. She’s just been another presence. Whenever I need to rant or vent, she’s there to provide an ear or distraction. Good writer, good friend. She’s rad.

@fullonzombae Kim also likes the bleached asshole. No, I still won’t give you context. She’s got a kind heart, a sharp wit, and is a talented writer. She’s also British, so that automatically gives her some class.

@timelessmulder Emily-Alice and I aren’t even the same fandoms anymore but I wouldn’t recognize my dash without them. Again, they’ve followed me since my tumblr beginnings. She has seen things. The highs, and the lows. A rational and grounded person, who is lovely and deserves good things.

@kryptonians I think I encountered Gil through Davis? I’m not sure. He’s just a good dude. Decent. Rational, funny, and all around good people. He likes Superman. That makes him alright in my book. Pretty much all of my DC exposure comes from his blog these days.

@thejazzdalek Max is another awesome guy who has been a mutual for ages, and that I don’t talk to enough. There’s a pattern here. We have a lot of the same fandoms though, and he’s always been friendly towards me.

@cimikat It’s Katie’s fault I started watching critical role, tbh. Yet another person I’ve followed since the beginning of time. Or at least, 2012. She’s just really sweet and chill. Marvel, Star Wars, whatever content she puts on my dash is Good Content.

@chujo-hime Stacy was “tumblr famous” imo and I remember having a mini freakout when she first followed me. Again, just a constant and friendly presence. A voice of reason, and back during the fandom wankery and ship wars that were going around 2013 or so… that was hard to find. Nothing but respect for her.

@ilikethequiet Ally is the photoshop fairy, and another friend who lets me exploit her talents. She reminds me of Bubbles from Power Puff Girls tbh. Really endearing and happy and fun, tho she’s not afraid to call out bullshit when she needs to. We need to talk more/write together more, friend.

@dreamimpcssiblethings Kath, you honestly are the sweetest person I think I’ve ever met tbh. We don’t talk as much as we used to, and that’s on me. You’re smart, and I love listening to you ramble on about things you’re passionate about and I’m sorry I suck and usually only reply with emojis. You’re another person the world could do to have more people like, but you’re one of a kind my friend.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten someone, and if I have, I’m truly sorry. It’s not a slight. Ilu. I know there are some people I’ve left off bc they’re not really that active anymore on tumblr so.

Also. @mulaney. Notice me.

[ravenaveira]

Who’s most likely on the chopping block SPOILERS AHEAD

Ok in the latest trailer we see literally everybody's getting bodied and it looks like pretty much everyone's gonna die or at least a majority of them will but realistically speaking I dont think KH3 is gonna be THAT dark

HOWEVER I do believe there will be SOME deaths as KH3 is supposed to be the darkest kh game I dont see Nomura letting this be a and they all lived happily ever after ending, but I believe its going to be a more bittersweet ending where the good side wins but at a great cost

So the next question is, whos actually gonna die? well I have some theories on whos the most likely to die and whos most likely gonna survive

For starters Mickey Donald and Goofy are pretty much set in stone they’ll be fine, its not TOTALLY impossible but I highly doubt Nomura or Disney would kill off those iconic characters so lets just mark them off right now to the SAFE list

Aqua, Terra, Ventus and Lea are more unknown, they could die or they could not but I’ll explain why its so up in the air

Aqua can and will be saved so it doesnt make much sense for her to die after we go through all this to save her, that being said she could die trying to protect everyone just like she did in the past but I still think to bring her back only to kill her off is highly unlikely so IMO Aqua is safe

Terra is a gamble, hes been on thin ice since BBS and I always assumed he would eventually die anyway I just didnt know when but I always figured he would eventually muster up the strength to free himself and die to protect his friends, I felt like Terra would possibly end himself to prevent Xehanort from using him to hurt any more people, in this case, I see Terra possibly doing that in this situation and I feel like Terra’s ‘death’ is long overdue since at least to me its been hinted thats where his arc was heading since the end of BBS, so IMO Terra is marked for death

Ventus is also a high possibility, if it wasnt Xehanort it was Vanitas trying to kill Ven although in Vanitas case his reasoning is alot more complicated but the fact remains they have both tried to ‘kill’ him in some way shape or form and have been searching for him for years and now that they’ve finally FOUND him the chances are pretty high that Ven is gonna die, he is in a VERY vulnerable position and unable to fight or defend himself and thanks to Aqua nobody knows where he is or how to save him so Ven is definitely in the danger zone and thats why IMO Ventus is hanging by a thread

Lea is a gamble too, he’s already ‘died’ once, became Axel, died again and became Lea again, to have him die a 3rd time seems excessive but it would be heart-wrenching if he is killed by one of his former friends Saix, Xion or Roxas which although having Lea die AGAIN as I said would be excessive this would DEFINITELY be a dark and tragic ending for Lea and the impact would be much bigger than it was the previous times and it’ll hold that much more weight to it seeing him suffer from the loss of Isa and then keep remembering Xion and Roxas as well only to have one of them be the one to take him down for good is just beyond sad, so even though it may be excessive the impact would be massive which is why IMO Lea is marked for death 

Now to move on to the main two, Riku and Kairi

For starters even with my personal bias against Kairi Im not stupid enough to think shes gonna die infact I think its the opposite, Kairi is HIGHLY unlikely to die and here’s why

She’s part of the main trio that we’ve followed from the start, she’s Sora’s love interest, she’s technically the main female, she’s a princess of heart, she’s a keyblade wielder, in other words she’s too tightly woven into the story that for Nomura to take her out would not only be bold af but also extremely unexpected, its not often that you see a member of the main cast killed off but if they are its almost never the love interest which is why I believe Kairi is safe

Their also hyping up the romance way too much for them to just kill her off, unless this whole ‘oath’ and ‘dont think twice’ is just one big red herring and they pull a 180 not only would that be risky af but also pretty danm genius cuz nobody would see that coming but I will not be mad at it and infact would appreciate Nomura even more for takin such a huge risk that not many others would take, although I already know majority of the fandom wouldnt agree with me on that and I think Nomura is aware of the shitstorm he would get if he did that aswell so yea Kairi is definitely safe

Riku not so much, unlike Kairi, Riku is not a love interest or atleast not the one Nomura intended, true Riku is also a part of the main trio but the rival/best friend always has the higher chance of dying to protect the MC than the main female/love interest does

You also have to look at Riku’s character arc, his growth from giving into the darkness and doing horrible things to his journey of redemption, I believe his final atonement would be giving his life to protect Sora who in the past he had hurt so much, this and it leaves Sora still alive to save the world and defeat Xehanort since in the scene we see Sora doesnt have his keyblade and hes on his knees about to be attacked by a swarm of heartless and Riku being the last man standing protects him and if not for Riku, Sora would have died there, but Riku despite all odds against him, gives his all in protecting Sora

Someone made an interesting comparison of when Axel was fading away after ‘putting his whole being into an attack’ from the looks of the trailer Riku is DEFINITELY giving his all in this attack, Riku is ready and willing to die for Sora which is why Riku IMO is marked for death

But I also dont think Riku is gone for good, I think he might become a nobody and he IS the only one in the main trio who hasnt had a nobody, granted because he’s never been in a situation TO have one but now is the perfect time with the perfect setup for this to happen and come into play

How exactly this will play out in the future? I have no idea and until we play the game I cant think of any theories BUT I dont think Riku’s gonna be gone for good, I think he’ll have a Lea situation where he becomes a nobody, ‘dies’ then returns to being his somebody again, or in other words is revived/reborn

Anyway thats all for my theories on who’s most likely to die on the heroes side but what about the villains?

Saix is definitely marked for death, same for most of the seekers of darkness, Vanitas and Ventus MIGHT actually make peace and accept one another and reunite so in a way you could say Vanitas ‘dies’ or he could go tragically and be killed being separated from Ven forever once again

And of course Xehanort is definitely gonna die, he’s the only one I am atleast 98% sure is going to die because at this point he has to unless they go the Iron Blooded Orphans route where literally almost all of the good guys DIE and the bad guys actually WIN with our heroes just having to live in hiding defeated Xehanort is almost gauranteed to die so IMO Xehanort is dead

Now to explain my ranking before I end this post so some of you who may be confused understand what I mean

Marked for death - means they have a target on their back and are within the enemies crosshairs and are highly likely to die unless they are saved by some deus ex machina and a miracle happens

Hanging by a thread - means that they are close to death but not quite sure if they’ll actually die hence why their hanging by a thread, maybe it’ll snap maybe it wont just gotta wait and see how things play out

Safe is self explanatory and the same applies for Dead

Thats everything, let me know if you agree or disagree or you think someone else will die that I didnt mention and why

[natsthinkitythinkthinkthonk]

Top Five Kouki Uchiyama Roles

Here’s a guy who voices a certain trope well but has not a whole lot of range. Yet, he makes it work for him. Unless the character is edgy, emo, evil, or an asshole, he usually either doesn’t take on the character or doesn’t do well with exceptions.

As usual, the ranking will be biased towards whether I like a character or a series or whether I watched it fully or not. Characters from shows that I haven’t seen will be mentioned in the paragraph below.

I’m a huge fan of him, so this time I’m going to keep the honourable mentions that I haven’t see here in the introduction. Here are the unseen honourable mentions: Meruem (Hunter x Hunter), Daryl Yan (Guilty Crown), Banagher Links (Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn), Makoto Tsukimoto (Ping Pong Animation), Natsuno Yuuki (Shiki), and Natsuki Usami (Tsuritama).

Honourable Mentions (That I’ve Seen Partially or Fully):

Yuu Otosaka (Charlotte)

Here’s the edgy type. He almost killed someone with a dango stick then got caught up in a forced romance. That’s probably why he’s so low on the honourable mentions list. He still made it up here though because Kouki managed to keep a straight face while acting in this clusterf--k of a series, he still did quite well performance-wise, and it wasn’t bad enough that I got SAO (second arc) flashbacks or something.

Yuu accurately portraying me on Ferris Wheels

The OVA is really better than the series in itself I think

Kei Tsukishima (Haikyuu!!)

(He looks like he’s doing a Yurio “HAAAA”)

Hey look, it’s an asshole. Okay, that’s a little harsh, but Tsukki isn’t exactly the guy I would call “nice”. Besides Ennoshita, Yamaguchi is really forgettable for me (having only watched around ten episodes) besides the fact that he was Tsukki’s follower. Seriously, there are compilations of Yamaguchi saying, “Tsukki!” Shout-out to Saito Souma for that though. But Kouki does a good job portraying the tall guy (he’s tall in real life too).

Yuuta Asaba (Kimi to Boku)

(I probably got the wrong twin, didn’t I?)

When they said identical twins, I didn’t realize that I would have such a hard time differentiating Ryouhei Kimura and Kouki Uchiyama. Their characters look and act the same for the most part. But still, episode seven just made this character bump up a lot because that was some cute stuff right there. That’s the good fluff. I appreciate that.

Yuri Plisetsky (Yuri On Ice)

(the gif with this scene makes it 10x better)

Yeah, it was almost a tie between number five and this, but I went with this. Yuri(o) is just an absolute asshole, but he’s still my favourite human character from Yuri on Ice (Makkachin is the real MVP, and you can’t convince me otherwise). This was probably only placed here because the next role had more range in emotion besides the “HAAAAAAAAA”, it had singing, and it was just a better anime overall. But don’t worry, you’ll still have all your “HAAAAAAAAA”s Yurio.

Top Five

5. Takumi Sakagami (Anthem of the Heart)

Have you ever wanted to watch a movie with a person who is cursed to never speak by an egg with a fairy tale musical involved? Well, do I have the movie for you! It’s a funny-sounding premise, but it works so well, and I can’t emphasize that enough. This movie was one heck of a rollercoaster of relatability and feelings. You might understand a little better after you’ve watched it. And would you look at that, this role isn’t edgy or emo. Shout-out to Hosoya for telling him about the movie! 

Trailer for this great movie

The end performance (DON’T WATCH THIS IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE ACTUAL MOVIE)

4. Akira Fudou (Devilman Crybaby)

Not going to lie, this placed a little low because I couldn’t finish Devilman. It was... too much. I’m sorry. I do know that it was a demanding role though. Too bad Kouki barely knew what he was in for. He thought he was going to end up as Ryo. No, that satanic gay disaster went to none other than Ayumu Murase or Hinata from Haikyuu. Basically, the innocent one is the crazy one here, and the edgy one is the naive devil here. Yeah... this show is wild for many reasons. But if you want to see a well-rounded character who is badass, powerful, vulnerable, naive, and emotional, look no further than Akira from Devilman Crybaby. It’s called Crybaby because this is what that character is essentially. I’m not going to include a clip for this anime because, if you didn’t know this already, this anime is not PG AT ALL.

3. Gin (Hotarubi no Mori e)

But this anime will make you the crybaby. Well, I can’t get too deep into this one. You really have to watch it for yourself. This role is one of the rarer cases where he doesn’t play someone who needs to be edgy, emo, or cool with an ego. He plays a vulnerable being that just wants to experience love. Along with the beautiful art and OST (not to mention the story), you really learn to appreciate the two leads in this one.

Here’s the trailer

You can watch these two leads in the anime that has the number two spot here coming up next. Ayane Sakura plays Ochako Uraraka, and Kouki plays...

2. Tomura Shigaraki (My Hero Academia)

(need a hand there buddy? ...I had to say it)

This character gets too much hate. I searched him up, and half of these things were like, “Why Tomura is a bad villain and a failure.” Guys, he’s trying his best. I know he “looks better in the manga” which is kind of true, but Kouki’s voice makes up for that. He brings such a creepiness to him that you almost feel that much more scared for Deku whenever he faces him. You can tell he has quite of bit of insecurities too, but he seems to be a human with a crumbling soul. I hope to see more of him in the future.

Deku and Tomura go shopping together? Kinda?

1. Soul Evans (Soul Eater)

Yeah, bias. I told you there was going to be some. But I stand by this choice 110%. Soul is cooler than most of us can even dream to be, and as someone who watched this anime subbed, I can say that I grew really attached to the Japanese cast. Sure, the English cast did a phenomenal job, but Chiaki and Kouki as Soul and Maka will forever be the voices behind one of my favourite OTPs. He portrays Soul really well, and it shows when he goes through the fight scenes, the comedic scenes, the struggles within his character, and his relationships with the other characters. I hope they did a remake in the future, and if they do, I hope the cast will come and reprise their roles. But if you want to watch Soul Eater subbed, the whole thing is on YouTube. It’s uploaded by Funimation (not sure if it’s available abroad). Be aware that it’s not in HD though.

BROTP moment between him and Black Star

The Test Episode (from the halfway point)

[ablehearted-blog]

Thank you guys!

I hit 202 followers this morning, meaning sometime overnight I reached the goal of 200 I was eagerly awaiting.

I love all 202 of you with every fiber of my being. I would make a follow forever, or a  bias list, but I don’t like them (personally) and I’m always afraid I’m going to leave someone out by accident, because it’s hard to remember everyone you love off the top of your head on the spot when you love 234234 people.

Thank you for your love and support. Thank you for writing with me. Thanks for giving my silly boy some love and attention even though he is but an oc.

Ya’ll are what keep me here.

PLEASE NEVER HESITATE TO ASK FOR A ROLEPLAY, SEND ME MEMES RANDOMLY, SEND ASKS RANDOMLY, OR MAKE ME RANDOM STARTERS. 

I DONT CARE IF WE HAVE 0 THREADS OR 100 THREADS. DO IT ANYWAY. LITERALLY. 

I’d love to get to plot and write with a few more of you as well! Take this opportunity to come punch me in the face with your muse!