#bc slaine needs friends on earth too

[terran-slaine]

"Were you aware of your genetic material being stored?" Inaho shuffled through the papers in front of him, and slid a stack across to Slaine. "There were Versian scientists running DNA experiments." "He's a clone." Slaine said in a whisper. ----- Fic where Inaho (somewhat covertly) breaks Slaine out of that Manor by the sea, so that Slaine can raise his child in hiding away from Vers. Mostly a fic about Slaine getting to break out and away, and live his life anew, as well as an exploration of how things change over time- Some struggles, some healing, some drama (because it's Aldnoah Zero, ofc it's got drama). Eventual Inasure.

Here's an Aldnoah Zero fic I started a couple years back and finally decided to post it~ So here you go (all 5 of you lol) Gonna include a pic for every chapter (or try to), here's chapter 1's pic:

[adamarks]

I’ve slept so little in the past 2 days bc of these fucking books, so you’ll forgive me that I’m crying and a bit hysterical right now. But here’s my hell-forsaken, honest-to-god review. I put it under a cut bc it’s so long.

After finishing Anyway the Wind Blows, I have realized that I’ve been running on such low low levels of hope in my own life.

During Wayward Son, when I first read it, I had really thought I’d been in a good place with my mental health at the time. I’d done some therapy. I’d escaped my dad. I’d slain the dragon! I’d won the war!! Surely, everything was peachy-keen, fine-as-rain, bye-bye silly depression I don’t need you no more!

But then Covid hit. And then my codependency hit. And codependency, it’s like a humdrum of its own, a black hole on the inside, a pit in myself, losing myself in someone else as its own addiction. It just ate me and ate me and I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t sleep and I was the least important thing on the face of the earth. I’d get angry. Then hate myself for getting angry. Shove my feelings in a stupid box, and that would feed that hole in my gut. You’re not important. No one will ever love you. You’re bad. You’re wrong. You hate them. You hate yourself—

And then I had to leave. I had to run away, like a coward, for myself. I had to choose myself in the worst way. I had to choose myself, because I had to live, and I wanted to live, and I needed that crawling, disgusting, horrible rot in my stomach to leave.

The hole isn’t gone, not yet.

It’s still there. I think I’ll always carry it with me. But it’s smaller now. I can hold it and care for it and calm it down in the ways I’ve learned. It’s manageable, I guess.

But then I read Anyway the Wind Blows...

I read Carry On after I started standing up to my dad.

I read Wayward Son about a year after the worst depressive episode of my life.

I read Anyway the Wind Blows when I’d lost hope for myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d never lost hope for this book. I knew it’d be amazing. I knew they’d love each other in such beautiful, stunning ways that I’d bawl like a baby. I knew this book would change me. I knew Rainbow was a fantastic author.

I didn’t know how desolate I was feeling about myself.

I didn’t know love could look like that.

I don’t know love. I never got to see it.

Not that I’d never been loved. That I didn’t have people my whole life that cared. I have a lot of people that mistake love for possession. Who want and wanted to own me. Who wanted me under their thumb.

I have friends, just as broken as me, if not more, where we love each other unconditionally. Where the love is so big and so good, it’s like breathing. It’s like life.

I didn’t know romantic love could scrub you clean.

I read their first sex scene. The first time. (Their first!) Last night, and I cried like a baby. I cried until I felt raw. Until I felt just as clean as them.

I didn’t know love with kisses and tangled sheets and sex could feel clean.

I’d been so preoccupied with the stupid hole inside my chest, the black, twisted thing that grew mold up my spine and fungus in my gut, that I didn’t realize that love— that complete vulnerability, on both ends, in its entirety— could help me clean out the muck.

I thought it would always be horrible and dark and difficult until the day you both died. I’d say I believe in love. In true love, even. But I didn’t really, not deep down. I always expected the worst.

I’m still just waiting and anticipating to be hurt.

I thought love was real, but for people besides myself. For others. Maybe people less fucked up, or something. (Or something or something or something)

I thought love was trying until the trying was hurting you, scorching you, making you hungry, making your stomach roll. Making you want to off yourself.

Love is trying, and every day it getting so slightly easier— or not easier, but slightly less frightening, to try. (It’s never easy. Life never is. It’s hard work. But it’s the fact that you understand. That you know. That you believe— that it’s worth it. That remembering that it’s worth it gets easier the more you try.)

Remembering that love is worth it.

You’re worth it.

I didn’t know love could look like this.

No one ever told me.

No one ever tried.

Maybe I could’ve lived my whole life not knowing. Died not knowing. Forced myself through more suffering, completely blind.

I just didn’t know.

And I didn’t know I’d been waiting for someone to show me.

To hold me and tell me, you’re not too broken. You can do that “love” thing. It’s possible. You’re allowed to try.

I’m allowed to try.

I’m allowed to keep going. To want. To need, to feel, to feel—

I’m allowed. I feel like this book gave me permission.

And I’m a different person than I was yesterday— And you always are, every time you’re brave enough to get up and face the day. But now I’ll always be a person that knows I’m allowed to try.

I don’t have to rot from the inside. I can hold someone and say, let’s try to help each other clean. And we can talk. And we can both try. And maybe it’ll be so good, I won’t want to stop trying, and I won’t run away.

Because I’ve finally been told— I’ve finally been shown…

It’s worth it.

[d20-eggroll]

Sunday game, we entered a dungeon, and everything is fucked up. This is a thorough write-up, so it is lengthy.

Mango dragged the whole party out in to the jungle because she heard there were other aarakocra there, and when they found them it turned out that it was a tribe of elemental aarakocra- these ones were focused on air. She learned a lot about her own lost culture and that a lot of what she was taught while it still stood was wrong, which is especially absurd considering she was heir to the throne. Most importantly, she found out there were to be four total, one for fire, air, earth and water, and that all of them were founded to protect their own temples with a sacred elemental bird.

The phoenix her bloodline is from was supposedly being protected by the Eternal Flame aarakocra, and she doesn’t know if the temple is untouched or if the phoenix has been slain and reborn in the wrong hands. The elemental birds are all connected and she gains permission to enter the temple trial to speak to the sacred bird of the Howling Winds to ask him if the phoenix is alive and where they might be. Thing is, this temple trial is incredibly dangerous. Most who go in don’t come back out. The aarakocra don’t do trade in gold so we can’t even supply ourselves before heading in. We do it anyway even though Mango is super fucking guilty and terrified to be bringing what is essentially her family in to something they’re being repeatedly told is a death trap, and that the last to succeed went in with the same number of people, was in there for a week and was the only one to emerge.

WE HAD A PC FAIL TWO DEATH SAVING THROWS BEFORE WE ALL TURNED THE FIRST FUCKING CORNER.

There was some weird trap that made it so you couldn’t breath until you had a successful con. saving throw and he went down there to look at the corpses, FAILED FOR A SECOND, hurried back to tell us it was trapped, TOOK A DEEP BREATH AND WENT DOWN THERE AGAIN?! He made it back to the party but he was failing his saves this time, and he went unconscious. We were all throwing whatever we could at him and none of it was working. Last second someone stabilized him w/a nat 20 medicine check. We were all standing in the fucking hall we entered from the doorway. NOT A GREAT START.

There was a ravine spitting lightning, which we dispelled. Then we tried to send the wizard’s owl over it to scout the other side. He hit a magic barrier and died instantly with his 1hp. COOL. Guess we have to go through the room ahead!

The first room had intense wind and cold, and the floor was a frozen over pond. The wind was too strong to fly against. If Mango did any fire magic it would suddenly become intensely hot and the frozen point would instead become boiling water, which it was incredibly lucky that I tried that before anyone went in, bc you can guess what the first impulse would have been when we had people get stuck in the ice! The same PC (Thirk, a half-orc barbarian so he’s heavy) fell through in to the freezing water. We had to drag him out after throwing him a rope which he luckily caught. Mango did her best to make herself a little space heater and warm all the chilly folks up and at this point she’s freaking the fuck out because this is all my fault everyone is going to die because of me why why why.

Then we had a choice between a room full of big weird mushrooms or... a blood spattered gore-heavy room with mini tornadoes flashing about in it, throwing limbs and body parts all hither and yon. MUSHROOMS PLEASE, NO BLOODNADOS THANKS. The mushrooms were completely harmless to just be around, which was refreshing.

Past the mushrooms was a room with what seemed like natural rock formations chiseled in to statues of people, all of whom we recognized were known to be dead. One PC, who is an orphan, saw an elven woman with features much like her own, so we took down a sketch. She was super upset at the idea of her mom being dead. There were no human men so we figured her dad is still out there somewhere. Mango found her parents shielding themselves from something, and her impulse is basically “firebolt anything you don’t like immediately.” They were the only ones in the pose of the moment of their deaths, everyone else looked peaceful. The bard found his parents and had our artist sketch them as well because his younger sister was too little to remember their faces and he wanted them to see. Tetra (an NPC who came in with us, the heir to the Howling Winds) saw her mother, who had died doing this trial.

Next hall actually seemed relatively pleasant, the first way we went. It was technically a dead end but it led to the peaceful grave of a legendary dragon slayer in the center of a calm pond. Mango probably had some blood vessels pop arguing with the party to not desecrate a grave in the Howling Wind’s most sacred of places looking for corpse-loot. Across the pond was another small room. In there were four cloaks made of aarakocra hide. Which, of course, one of the PCs wanted because it “wasn’t technically a grave.” Tetra came along while Mango was trying to explain how it wasn’t any better to literally wear the skins of her people, and pointed out that oh shit.

Those weren’t old cloaks. Those were the feathers of the guards who were supposed to be posted outside the temple.

Mango did end up going back for the cloaks, after we found the skinned bodies of the guards hanging from meat hooks in a nearby room, so they could be wrapped in them and laid to rest with at least some ceremony and dignity. We could tell the bodies were a week dead or less. At this point it is setting in hard that we’re not the only ones in here, and that the bird (who is the only one that can send us out of the temple) might have been slain.

In a room right past that was an entire murdered colony of deep gnomes. Would have laid them out politely as well, but there was something haunted going on in that chamber and we noped the fuck out. The wind started speaking as our enemies or our dead for awhile.

ANYWAY THEN WE HAD TO GET ACROSS ANOTHER RAVINE. REMEMBER HOW THE OWL JUST STRAIGHT UP PLUMMETED TO HIS DEATH? CUZ WE SURE DID.

Mango tied a rope around her waist and gave the other end to Thirk and was going to just try her damnedest, but then our fighter goliath tried to climb in to position to jump it and she rolled a fucking 1 and fell so teensy tiny 90lb Mango leaped after her, missed catching her friend, and ended up just kind of dangling helplessly. Her friend rolled well and caught a handhold. We have 7 party members at this point, and they crossed like so:

Valentino, human bard, and Seladi, dragonborn wizard: Dimension door.

Ashley, the goliath fighter: a much better athletics check for jumping.

Tetra, druid and Bark, half-elf druid/cleric: turned in to mountain goats and goated across.

Mango and Thirk: My dimension door cloak had already been used in the ice room, so she cast polymorph for the first time, turned in to a giant ridiculous rainbow ape, picked Thirk up like he was a toddler and aped across. And then a few more times when we realized there was another hall but YIKES there was a black pudding in there no thanks, but also because Mango was super in to being the Big Strong all of a sudden.

We get in to this room through the hall though, and find more dead aarakocra. These are specifically women with some symbol carved in to their forehead strung up on silk ropes and apparently bled dry there. While two of us (Mango being one) took them down, something invisible attacked. It hit Mango and was revealed to be a big fiend of some sort and YIKES that axe hit would have ko’d her if she hadn’t been polymorphed.

So she took his axe in the first round, and picked him up to throw him down the ravine in the second. Big Strong.

After laying the aarakocra dead to a more respectful position of rest we continued on to what turned out to be the last room on that floor. It was a gigantic waterfall pouring down a hole in the floor. There was blood all over and it all seemed to be exploding out from that point, but that was also where we NEEDED to go. We did manage to dispel the trap and while some of us climbed down a rope to the other floor, Mango polymorphed in to a huge ass shark and just dropped down swimming in the fall followed by the druids wildshaping in to smaller sharks.

We’re all down there now. There’s no land. There is a mostly submerged staircase behind the fall, but everything else is tunnels with 60ft deep dark water. That’s where we’re picking up in the next session but I’m already fucking dying bc we’re going to be juggling so many resources just figuring out how to move 5 folks without wings around on the one shark big enough to awkwardly ride, not even considering our priority right now is to find a safe place to camp and rest. Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[ganzeer]

NEW MYTHOLOGIES FOR MODERN HUMANS

Generally speaking, I hate flags. National flags in particular, because anything that serves to bring together a very particular group of people only serves to separate them from other peoples. Rifts become bigger and borders become stronger, and I really don't believe in borders.

One flag I have a bit of a soft spot for though is the flag of Lebanon. Where most flags attempt to represent notions that are all too abstract, and quite frankly fabricated, the flag of Lebanon depicts a very real facet of the country's geography. Colors aside, the central feature of the Lebanese flag is the Cedar Tree, an undisputed feature of this part of the world since time immemorial. Of course there are those who only see in the Lebanese flag the circumstances surrounding its creation, and times when it might have been raised by one particular sector of society and not the other, thus only seeing in it its relevance to some Lebanese and not others. Those people are clearly missing the bigger picture. The oldest surviving mention of Lebanese Cedar that we know of is in the Epic of Gilgamesh which dates back to roughly the 18th century B.C, which makes it the oldest surviving work of literature in human history. One of the central parts in the epic involves Gilgamesh's journey to the Cedar forest (which most historians agree must've been in Lebanon). This journey is undertaken with Gilgamesh's friend (or lover, depending on your reading of the tale) Enkidu for the sole purpose of glorifying their names. This glorification is to be achieved by doing two things: 1) Slaying Humbaba; protector of the forest and devote servant of Enlil, god of Earth, Wind, and Air. 2) Cutting down the tallest tree in the forest and using it to build a new gate for the Kingdom of Uruk.

More trees are chopped to build a colossal ship by which to carry the gate and Humbaba's head back to Uruk.

There are a couple things we learn from this story; that if you want to build something sturdy that will stand the test of time, and glorify your name long after you're dead, well then wood from the tallest tree in Lebanon's Cedar forest will likely do the trick. We also learn that Lebanese Cedar can be used to build really great boats. A testament to this is Khufu's "Solar Ark", buried at the foot of the Great Pyramid of Giza in around 2500 BC. The wood of this boat, which survived for over 4000 years under the Earth is comprised almost entirely of Lebanese Cedar.

Another thing the Epic of Gilgamesh tells us is to beware of destroying the environment in the name of "progress". As the king of Uruk, arguably the largest and most advanced city in existence circa 2900 BC, Gilgamesh represents not only progress but human civilization itself. Humbaba, as the guardian of the Cedar forest is a shorthand for nature itself. Before Humbaba is slain by Gilgamesh, he warns him that his murder will only bring a curse upon Gilgamesh. In other words, environmental destruction will only bring ruin upon civilization. And indeed that is sort of how the Epic goes: Gilgamesh's friend falls ill and eventually dies. Overtaken by grief, Gilgamesh tears off his royal garb, rips his own eyes out, and wanders the Earth aimlessly void of glory or vision.

The more I think of it, the more it becomes evident to me that the first work of Science Fiction is in fact not Mary Shelley's FRANKENSTEIN, but rather THE EPIC OF GILGAMESH. When it comes down to it, there are really two things that make a work of fiction Science Fiction: 1) Extrapolation of a future technology from a contemporary technology. 2) Its commentary on the human condition, in particular human progress, ideally serving (as Warren Ellis once put it) as a kind of early-warning station for the Future.

Both these points fit the EPIC OF GILGAMESH like a T. We forget that boat-building was a formidable scientific feat of the civilizations of old. And the boat described in the Epic of Gilgamesh is exceptionally large. We don't think much of it now, not in the age of battleships, aircraft carriers, and cruise-ships capable of accommodating 5000 passengers, but at the time of its writing, such a boat would not be feasible to build, and the act of imagining it couldn't be described as anything other than a Sci-Fi practice.

Think about it; if you live in an age where city-obliterating warheads are commonplace, and you want to deliver some kind of commentary on it in the form of Science Fiction, well then you come up with something capable of obliterating entire planets: a Death Star (that's right folks, STAR WARS has always been a critique of U.S. imperialism). Passenger planes are commonplace? Well then how about space vessels the size of entire cities (BATTLESTAR GALACTICA). Fishing boats are what's common? Then imagine a big enough boat to carry a gateway for the largest city on Earth. Oh, and also, to transport the decapitated head of a giant as well.

Of course, the fact that the epic warns us of our demise as a civilization in the event of our encroachment upon nature in the name of civilization is still a warning we can all very much relate to today, and something only the very best works of science fiction ever manage to tackle.  

The EPIC OF GILGAMESH is a phenomenal accomplishment, and within it is not only the DNA for Science Fiction, but all fiction. And as humanity's oldest surviving work of literature, it is kind of astounding that it is not deemed essential reading to everyone capable of reading (if you're reading it in English, I recommend the 2003 translation by Andrew George).

The same Lebanese Cedar which made up Gilgamesh's boat of the future, the same which made up Khufu's Solar Ark in Egypt, may have also been used to construct the boat embarked by King Psamtik during his quest for the owner of a single slipper sometime between 664-610 BC. Fragments of this story first appeared in Herodotus' THE HISTORIES around 440 BC, and then later in the writing of Greek historian Strabo when he journeyed up the Nile in 25 BC, and then even later in Aelian's VARIOUS HISTORIES between 175-235 AD. Increasingly mythologized with each retelling, the story goes that the slipper fit no foot in the entire kingdom other than that of Rhodopis, a Greek slave girl in the Egyptian city of Naucratis, upon which the great Pharoah decided to take her as a wife.

Aside from being an incredibly early version of what has been popularized as the CINDERELLA story, the importance of this tale lies in that it may very well be one of the earliest anti-xenophobic stories in history. Incestuous practices were all too common in Ancient Egypt, especially among royalty, the reasons of which were not just practicality but also a severe sense of disdain held against other "races". What Psamtik's story served to do was to redefine Ancient Egyptian identity to encompass other "ethnicities", and indeed we find actual historical indications of such a shift taking place. During Psamtik's reign, Greek immigrants were in fact encouraged to live and work in Egypt, as well as serve in the Egyptian military, 300 years prior to the arrival of Alexander the Great.

Of course it is well known that Alexander’s “campaign” in Egypt was only really successful because he was welcomed in Egypt. One can't help but wonder if Alexander's arrival would've been welcomed by Egyptians at all had it not been for Psamtik's efforts 300 years prior, and if those efforts would've been successful had it not been for the story of the slipper.

And if Alexander were not welcomed in Egypt, would he have gone on to conquer Babylon, Persia, and make it all the way to the Indus River? Playing the "what if" game is futile, but it isn't inconceivable that history as we know it could've turned out very differently had a certain story involving the slipper of a Greek slave girl never been told.

Stories matter, not because they entertain us, but because they shape us. And in shaping us, they go on to shape the world we live in.

So, if you've ever wondered why I've been making the transition from "fine art" (whatever the hell that is) to fiction, there's you're answer right there.

If you've ever wondered why I’ve been making the shift to Science Fiction in particular, well, Science Fiction as a genre for the mythology of the present and the future makes perfect sense in the age of technological lust we live in. Another reason, of course, is that a great deal of Sci-Fi output seems to be largely dominated by the propaganda of White America. It's kind of hard to disassociate science fiction from the image of the white male protagonist who speaks American English and goes off to save the rest of the planet from an Alien invasion or Robotic dominance. How is it possible for any non-American, completely dis-included from these stories that involve the fate of the entire human race to not feel (at least subconsciously) somewhat inferior?

We are in desperate need of new mythologies. Mythologies that dismantle the idea of any one person’s superiority over any other. Mythologies that cross cultures and celebrate human diversity. Mythologies that re-calibrate our relationship with the environment, that do not promote notions of genocide (even if it’s the genocide of “aliens”), that explore modes of existence beyond abusive capitalism, that do not equate human happiness with fame and fortune, where the point of the story isn’t for the hero to get with the princess (or hottest girl in school). And above all, we need mythologies that aren’t a mere perpetuation of a greedy corporation’s “intellectual property”, existent for the sole purpose of generating income while offering “consumers” little more than a handful of laughs. 

Storytellers are generators of culture. Let’s never forget that.

This is just one reason I decided to go off and do THE SOLAR GRID. But then again, I am in no way delusional enough to think that a single comicbook by me (no matter how fat) will have any cultural impact to speak of, but a small part of me would like to think that if within the fictional world of THE SOLAR GRID I manage to figure out how to get two miserable orphans on Earth to destroy a massively oppressive structure in outer space, a structure that is the result of generations upon generations of greed and imperialism, then maybe... just maybe... it might be possible to accomplish something similar right here in the real world.

Ganzeer Beirut, Lebanon December 2017

[awkward-kooks]

Get to Know Me!

Tagged by @jooheonster!

THE LAST: 1. Drink: water 2. Phone call: my brother 3. Text message: my dad 4. Song you listened to: Havana by Camila Hair (Cabello) lol 5. Time you cried: During the Game of Thrones finale

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: noooooope 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: yeeeeeep 8. Been cheated on: no 9. Lost someone special: yes, a few family members 10. Been depressed: yes 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: not yet lol (please drink responsibly!)

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: lavender, magenta, turquoise 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: yes 16. Fallen out of love: no 17. Laughed until you cried: all the time 18. Found out someone was talking about you: no 19. Met someone who changed you: yes 20. Found out who your friends are: yes 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: no

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: lmao like a quarter of them 23. Do you have any pets: I had a cat, but he went poof  24. Do you want to change your name:sometimes, tbh 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: Get drunk and ate Chinese food lol 26. What time did you wake up: 8 am 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: watching youtube videos 28. Name something you can’t wait for: the day BTS stops snatching my soul (and money)

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: this morning  30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I wish I didn’t have such a short temper 31. What are you listening right now: my brother talking to his Xbox party lmaoooo  32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Thomas, not Tom (his exact quote when we referred to him as Tom lol) 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: my parents thinking that they know eVERY FUCKING THING WHEN IT COMES TO MEDICINE AND BIOLOGY AND THE HUMAN BODY, EVEN THOUGH THEY’RE IN ELECTRONICS AND I STUDIED ANATOMY AND BIOLOGY. 34. Most visited Website: YouTube lmao     

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. Mole/s: uuuuum probably well over fifty (I have about 10 on my arms alone and quite a bit in the chesticle area)  36. Mark/s: I have this huge one going down all of my stomach (a witch said I was slain in half in a previous life o.O) 37. Childhood dream: I’ve always wanted to live right next to the beach and somehow that worked out lol 38. Haircolor: natural is dark brown, but right now it’s silver and lilac  39. Long or short hair: medium-ish atm but cutting it short 40. Do you have a crush on someone: uhm, kind of, not really? 41. What do you like about yourself: My smile  42. Piercings: ears 43. Bloodtype: A-  44. Nickname: Sexden, dental hygiene, dent (thx @tomatoholmes), deb (courtesy of @wonheonie), and nini

45. Relationship status: single lmaooo 46. Zodiac: I’m a virgin! (aka a virgo lol) 47. Pronouns: she/her 48. Favorite TV Show: GAME OF THRONES MOTHA FU — , RuPaul’s Drag Race, Keeping Up with the Kardashians (just to make fun of how dramatic it is lol) and Jersey Shore (throw back to my high school days, we be wildin lol) 49. Tattoos: none 50. Right or left hand: right 51. Surgery: nooooope, thank the lORDT 52. Hair dyed in different color: blonde, silver, pink, lilac, red, too many to count 53. Sport: to play? tennis and swim. to watch? Futbol (soccer for my fellow Americans) and boxing 55. Vacation: does going to another part of California count? Lol. 56. Pair of trainers: 1, I’m more of a heels and converse kinda gal.

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: OMG SO MUCH, MEXICAN, ITALIAN, CHINESE, JAPANESE, BUT TAKOYAKI IS HANDS DOWN THE BEST THING THAT EVER GRACED THIS EARTH. AND MEXICAN FRUIT SALAD WITH LEMON AND CHILI POWDER. 58. Drinking: alcohol. I need alcohol. And Dr. Pepper. 59. I’m about to: get food lol 61. Waiting for: the day I stop going broke for k-pop   62. Want: food and a fuCKING NAP. 63. Get married: yes ;-; 64. Career: idk yet, tbh

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: HUGS 66. Lips or eyes: Eyes 67. Shorter or taller: Why not both? (although, I love me the tols when I’m dating) 68. Older or younger: older for partners 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: nice stomachs make me nut but chubby stomachs also make me nut 71. Sensitive or loud: LOUD BC Y’ALL NEEDA KEEP UP WITH THESE LATINOS RIGHT HURR.

72. Hook up or relationship: R E L A T I O N S H I P S. I AIN;T GOT TIME FOR THESE HOES AND FUCKBOIS.

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: troublemakers are fun

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: no 75. Drank hard liquor: ALL THE TIME 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: yes 77. Turned someone down: yes 78. Sex on the first date: no 79. Broken someone’s heart: maybe? 80. Had your heart broken: nope, hopefully it never happens 81. Been arrested: not yet 82. Cried when someone died: yes 83. Fallen for a friend: yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: I believe.....that I am a piece of shit 85. Miracles: they happen, right? 86. Love at first sight: no 87. Santa Claus: no 88. Kiss in the first date: I mean....if there was a spark but other than that, nooooope, gotta wait until the 3rd or 5th date, buddy. 89. Angels: no

OTHER: 90. Current best friends name: G. 91. Eyecolor: brown, but they look amber in certain lights? 92. Favorite movie: THE SIMPSOOOOONS, movie on the big screen, and STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPATON, CRAZY MOTHA FU —, ok, I’m done, lol.