#bro is absolutely smashing capitalism

[cadillacjohnf1]

My Roman Empire? The fact that Sergio Perez has literally never said no to a brand opportunity ever:

[batcastlesociety]

poorly constructed netflixvania rant under the cut,,, and yes i will be using capital letters for once! don't question it.

small warning because my rant is all over the place and by no means professional. i'm still relatively new to castlevania and may or may not get a few things wrong,,, sorry, if i do! 🙇🏻‍♂️ i plan on adding more to this later to make it seem less like alphabet soup, if you will.

Obviously, I'm aware that I'm a tad late to the whole "netflixvania ranting" thing, but honestly, I really don't care if I'm late or if this gains traction somehow or not. I just want to put this out there and get this OUT.

Now, I'd say that I'm awfully new to the Castlevania community itself. I'm a minor, so it's not like I grew up playing the games when they came out. 💀 Hell, I actually found out about Castlevania through watching its Netflix adaptation. But honestly, when I got Smash Bros Ultimate and found out about Richter and Simon, then doing further research and finding out about the games themselves, I'd say I abandoned the show immediately after that. Like, immediately. The games just interested me MUCH more!

Netflixvania is just... boring. It feels uncanny. Not canon, of course, just.. uncanny. Weird. Honestly, I feel horrible considering the large amount of people that actually LIKE Netflixvania compared to the games and say it's better, or even not have heard of the games in the first place! It's so stupid, when you compare the games and show.

Honestly, comparing the show to the games is... wild. I've seen people say that "oh, yeah netflixvania SUCKS, buuuut the first season is still badass!!!" Like... no, buddy... no... Netflixvania refuses to adapt Castlevania from the very start. The get-go, if you will. The very first season of this wretched show starts off completely off the rails. Not even the first season is above "sub-par".

The games have an immersive, charming, compelling storyline with a bunch of really well-constructed lore, at least in my opinion. I absolutely LOVE the whole plot of a massive feud going on between mortals who have to start a bloodline to fight this immortal Big Bad, and their reactions, their bad reputation with the Transylvanian townspeople despite the fact that the Belmont clan is pretty much the only thing keeping the former alive, and much more.

Anyway, back to this godawful adaptation.

First off, the goddamn showrunner of Netflixvania, Warren Ellis, literally CUT OUT A CHARACTER from the VERY VIDEO GAME THAT HE WAS ADAPTING INTO A SHOW, just because he thought that the character's name "sounded stupid", and that having a "pirate" character apparently wouldn't make sense, because ooh romania is a landlocked country!!! YOU IMBECILE. GRANT DANASTY IS NOT EVEN A PIRATE.💀💀💀 That was a mistranslation, for crying out loud! Isn't Grant a thief??? Not a pirate??? Also, who gives a shit if he even was a pirate?! This is the same adaptation that turned Trevor 'FUCKING' Belmont into a stumbling drunkard and Alucard into a horse-faced sex object. Everyone else is out-of-character enough by themselves! Who CARES if there's one single """pirate""" character??? This is the same show that has mages and Devil Forgemasters and, oh, let's not forget; FUCKING VAMPIRES??? This is a fantasy setting!! Why would you deny a canon character his chance in the spotlight for the sake of historical accuracy in a fictional world like this??

Besides, as aforementioned, Grant wasn't even a pirate in the first place! Ergo, it wouldn't matter if the story took place in a landlocked country or not!

Anyway, next point. Still about the characters, though. Mostly how they talk. Almost very single word these characters say is emphasized with a few "fuck"s and/or "shit"s, "bloody hell"s, etc., ESPECIALLY with Trevor. It's as if they're using curse words to sound more witty or mature, which is literally one of the first (and frankly, most obvious) of Red Flags for Horrendous Adult Media. In my opinion, at least. I just don't understand the reason why. I don't recall any of the Castlevania games having a single curse word in them (correct me if I'm wrong on that bit), but the games were still marketed for more mature audiences, too! You don't need profane language and a few splashes of vomit to make a compelling story for adults. Really, truly.

Back on that bit, it feels as if the writers REALLY wanted to make Trevor really witty. A bit of a whimsical jokester. Which, by the by, also if I recall correctly, isn't what his personality is really like at all. At least, not for the most part. In Curse of Darkness, Trevor was definitely a bit witty and cunning, but he also had a pretty damn big ego. He was confident, blunt and hotheaded. He's an arrogant bastard. CoD Trevor is intimidating as well. However, he's also honorable and likeable. Just a neat little guy.

Netflixvania Trevor, on the other end, is... odd. He's aloof, cynical, still having a bit of arrogance, but I don't know. It didn't feel like Trevor. I don't know how to explain it. Maybe I'll come up with something better someday else.

Well, now that I'm mostly rambling about Trevor now, I think I should talk about his actual outward design as well. Truly, none of the members of the Netflixvania cast have retained any of their ingame designs, at least for the most part. Except for Alucard, of course, but I'll mention that a bit more later. I'll only talk about the main trio (RIP Grant Danasty, you were never nasty and will be here in spirit...) and their designs right now.

Starting off with Treffy himself. His design is... a bit odd. Now, I feel as if it's his eye that irks me the most. Let me just pull up some visual aids for this one:

THIS is Netflixvania Trevor. I apologize in advance for the low-quality PNG I've just slapped here.

Anyway, look at his eye. It has a scar on it. Keep that in mind.

THIS is Trevor's actual, ingame design for the game that was supposed to be adapted correctly, and there's no sign of any eye injury here.

And in Trevor's CoD design, he ALSO has a scar... but this isn't all that similar to his DC design, either.

Personally, I feel as if Netflixvania Trevor looks more like Judgement Trevor, than anything...

You can see the scar on his eye (IGNORING the outfit...), but even then, JuD Trevor still has an eyepatch. Netflixvania Treffy does NOT have an eyepatch. These are just differences in design, mind you, i know absolutely nothing about Judgement itself.

Anyway, Treffy (i'll just be calling him that from now on) looks like a weird mix between JuD Trevor, because of the hair and body structure, and CoD Trevor, due to the visible scar, I guess.

...Which is even worse, because it just goes to show how much the creators of Netflixvania really deviated from the source material. Maybe I'm just fucking blind over here, but really I see no similarities between Treffy and actual DC Trevor. Except, maybe, like, the boots, but really?

Now, on to the rest of the party: (except for my boy Grant, who got fucking excluded...)

Sypha actually looks like this in DC:

She looks pretty different! Luckily, not the most different compared to what happened to my rotten soldier, my good time boy Trevor, but still quite different. Firstly, Sypha's face is covered, and her robes are quite big on her, and this was actually intentional!

For the record, if you haven't played DC, the whole reason why Sypha looks more boyish is because she was hiding her gender for the whole game in order to travel safely. Her true gender is only revealed at the end of the game. (Truly an iconic Samus Metroid moment you conjured up there, Konami.)

Anyway, this is Sypha's Netflix version.

Again, sorry for the weird pixel outline on the image. I didn't even edit these.

Anyway, luckily, this one isn't all that different, except the obvious fact that Sypha isn't hiding her gender in this one. Although, I still do definitely believe she was done dirty. I mean, look at that hair! Christ. I'm not sure why they didn't make Sypha hide her gender until the end like in the original game, but then again, a pretty concerning amount of canon events from DC and Castlevania as a whole I guess didn't make the cut, so I doubt it'd be wise to set the bar any higher than the floor.

Next up, oh no. Alucart. I'll be referring to his horse-faced counterpart as this, because although his design is still game-accurate... It was for the wrong game.

This is his Netflix design:

See, it's okay. It's a biiiit inaccurate to his SoTN version... (for SoTN swag, see here) but! This isn't a SoTN adaptation!!! THIS, chaps, chapesses, and chapsticks is supposed to be for Dracula's Curse! and this is Alucard's DC design:

See? Now, this is just completely different! In this version, Alucard definitely gives off traditional, pop culture vampire vibes, definitely taking after his father in this one. But Alucart... Poor Alucart... he's just an odd mix of SoTN and.. not SoTN. It's literally just his SoTN self, but in a more revealing outfit with random ass belts. It's as if they simply went on a quick Google adventure and looked no further for Alucart's to-be design. But seriously, why exactly are they showing his bare chest here? Why is he muscular? Huh?????

... These redesigns are... something else, that's for sure! Of course, I know that with every adaptation, there's bound to be some changes, but with Netflixvania, there are a LOT of changes, and absolutely none of them are necessary.

For one, characters like Godbrand and Lenore were never in the games! The writers just slapped in some random OCs and scrapped an actual, canon character for petty reasons. They also nerfed Hector because of a behind-the-scenes argument between writers. They let their own pettiness ruin a show. Hell, Warren Ellis himself didn't even know anything about Castlevania. He just took everything from secondhand sources! It's not professional or sane.

I honestly didn't even watch the full show myself. I probably should, so maybe I can edit this rant a bit. Anyway, I only watched S1 and a bit of S2. Honestly, I have no idea why they didn't just stop the show when Dracula got pounded into the ground for the umpteenth time. There wasn't any real need to continue the show for even more seasons. Just... I don't know. It's really weird??? The show just seems... boring. Like, seriously. What's even the point, at that point? Our favorite three stooges Johnny Test'ed Drac into oblivion, just as they needed to do, so why continue? It just seems as if they're milking it.

...Yeah i don't know how to continue this. In summary, play the games instead. Watch let's-plays, if you can. As I mentioned earlier, this rant may not be too professional or well-written, and I apologize if I mixed anything up. I plan on adding more to this later, but right now, my hands are getting numb q(╥﹏╥)p

[bimbbros]

WELCOME TO THE BIMB BROS THE BEST WEBCOMIC, NOW ON TUMBLR

yeah. we're poroud to be here

bimb bros is a webcomic that first started on gamejolt, on the day of july 22nd, 2022 (by @commanderruby and @theidiotboi), and it revolves around two absolute idiots and their escapades to save the world from capitalism and bootleggery

it is now on tumblr

i hgope you like sbahj and breakingbadfunny because those two were responsible for inspiring this whole series

your in for the whild ride now. welcome to the vbimbbros

GREAT BIMBDEX:

OFFICIAL WEBSITE:

GAMEJOLT COMMUNITY:

DISCORD SERVER:

[timcurry-imgoinghomedotmp4]

project idea number whomst the fuck knows but also i can absolutely achieve the first step and come back to it later

Closeted trans man does a BARBIE/OPPENHEIMER double feature: I Have Thoughts

Mise-en-scène and in-camera practical effects

Cinematography toys vs tools approaches and Nolan as the former

Existential despair as a theme in 2023 (what were the timelines of the films?)

Teenage girl hatred vs cultural influence (taylor swift is smashing records despite what snobs (myself included) feel about her mediocrity as an artist. The beatles, boy bands in general, k-pop stans, fucking franz liszt

Capitalism/bankability (nolan as king of middle-brow who i hate that I can’t just hate/gerwig as Girl Filmmaker and Barbie as toy)

Production posses (across all departments and stages of production)

Ryan Gosling as dumb foil/Cillian Murphy as lead for Chrissy boy for the first time in [years]

Difficulty in getting BARBIE made (refer to Margot Robbie interview for specifics)

Twin halves of myself - i had a girlhood! I played with mermaid barbie* with hot/cold color changing tail in the bathtub! I had a HUGE fucking not-like-other-girls phase and i was technically correct for very different reasons (lmao) and I have some very film-bro tastes and my love of cinema is forever tied to my dead brother and now my grief at never getting to be brothers.

[forsworned]

[♥] collegeau! to date or not to date {rengoku kyoujurou x reader}

Genre: Comedy, Slight Fluff, Slight Sensual Themes

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Renguko Kyoujorou/Reader

Word count: 2,791

a/n: continuation of unintentionally roomates which you can find here ,,requests are open

➽────────────── ────────────── ──────────── ❥ 

It had been some weeks since she had gotten used to Kyoujurou being her roommate. So far neither of them had walked in on each other naked--yet. He was pretty tidy and would call her out in a teasingly kind of way that she'd sleep with her mouth wide open which made her pretty insecure, but he insisted it was "very cute." Which didn't make it any better. He could concur that it probably wasn't a good idea to show her the picture he had taken of her (he actually would look at it when he was having a bad day or he just wanted a good laugh; he also nearly made it his homescreen but decided that was maybe a little too far).

Mid-terms would be coming up soon and Kyoujurou wanted to do something fun before all the stress would settle in from piles of homework assignments and study guides. He suggested that the both of them should go to the amusement park and [name] was more than delighted to go, but there was a small issue with this. She didn't know if it was a date or just them simply hanging out. He just brought it up so casually when they had just finished a round of Super Smash Bros. and [name] was trying her hardest not to be a flustered mess about it.

"Just ask him." Shinobu's usual singsong voice was now monotonous. She had had enough of [name]'s shit to say the least. Always inquiring about Kyoujurou since Shinobu and him had been in the same graduating high school class and friend group. Not to mention mid terms were coming up and pre-med was no joke.

[Name] visibly sulked at her friend's tone. She didn't like being a nuisance to Shinobu, even though it wasn't hard to irate her nerves, but this time she seriously needed help and Shinobu was being nothing less than unpleasant.

"Shinobuuuu," [Name] whined. "This is a big deal for me. Please give me advice and I won't bring it up ever again."

The ravenette's eyes darted to the [h/c] pleading gaze, and it was enough to make to [name] squeak. Shinobu let out a sigh before speaking.

"Fine," [name]'s expression brightened, but Shinobu's finger pressing into her forehead made it falter a little. "but you don't need to stop talking about him. Just do it a lot less. I need to focus on exams."

[Name] cheered in triumph and fist pumped into the air, which in turn made Shinobu laugh. She wanted to be there for [name] in anyway she could, just within some restrictions and limitations. Shinobu's face suddenly went gravely serious.

"So here's the game plan."

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

[Name] took a deep breath before looking at her reflection. Her outfit was subtle yet cute. A simple blue top and beige skort to prevent panty reveals yet still have the illusion of wearing a skirt. Hair was pinned and pulled back abover her neckline since the sun would be beating down and she wanted to take every precaution to avoid any excessive sweating. Make up was light to circumvent it from melting off her face. Yes, [name] was over meticulous because she was resolute in this hang out/date to be absolutely perfect. And if Kyoujurou had decided to reject her than at least she'd look hot getting her heartbroken.

He had already left over an hour ago since he had to tutor a student in history at the tutoring center. A work study job that he picked up to help cover his tuition and endlessly spoke about when he got back to his dorm when you two were winding down from your day.

[Name] spritzed her best perfume to all her pulse points to extend the life of her scent as it hit her body. She threw it in her bag along with her make up just in case she needed to freshen up. One last look in the mirror and she was finally off to her date, er, hang-out thingy.

The autumn air was irregularly warm and humid. Well, not irregular for Okinawa at least. It was a sub tropical climate which meant mild winters and the moist summers were what [name] favored most about it here.

As she walked out of the dormitory and into the student parking lot, she was nearly blinded by the blond tresses sitting on the bench. Like quite, literally blinded. The sun was bouncing off his fiery hair more than usual and it was causing [name] to squint at him when she approached him. For some reason (she had an exact reason being that she looked super hot), [name] felt bold, and advanced toward Kyoujurou with hands concealing his vision. He visibly tensed and she couldn't help but feel a smile tug at her lips.

"Guess who."

His body now relaxing at the sound of her voice and she felt the apples of cheeks rise into a grin against the palm of her hands. "[name], you're finally here!"

She released her hands as he got up to face her and his jaw went a little aslack as he oggled at her profile. [Name] was stunning, indeed. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he dryily swallowed. His hair that was now pulled back in a high ponytail let his bangs frame his face beautifully, swayed in the small gust momentarily. She could've sworn that he was blushing at her, but then again it was quite hot...

"You look--um, quite sharp!" He stammered. Kyoujurou mentally socked himself in the face. Sharp? That was the best he could come up with?

[Name]'s expression was now in a state of bemusement before she laughed melodically. To him it was a beautiful melody that he always tried to sway out of her with corny jokes and memes. "Well, thank you Kyoujurou. You look quite sharp, too!"

[Name] wanted to die. She looked sharp? Sharp?! No, she looked Hot! With a capital freaking "H".

Nonetheless, [name] shook it off. She was determined to make this flawless even if it was off to a rocky start. Thankfully the ride to the amusement car was starting to make up for it. The both of them jammed to the playlist they had put together earlier and discussed which rides they were excited about most.

"$50?!"

"You really don't read things thoroughly do you, [name]."

[Name] ignored his attempt at poking fun at her. It was always like this whenever she freakishly exclaimed about information that was news to her, but had been there for well however long the inital post had been there for and Kyoujurou had always made it a point to call her out for it.

"Well, I can't make you pay for it." She deadpanned. And she absolutely meant it. Kind of. Not really. It would mean that it would technically be a date, right? Right? A guy paying always meant that it was a date. [Name] mentally nodded at herself reassuring herself.

"Well, that's too bad." He inserted his card into the chip reader and thanked the attendant while grabbing his receipt.

[Name] bit back a smile as they walked side by side into the park. "Well, I'm going to pay you back."

He looked at her with an uncharacterstically sultry gaze. "No, you are not."

His voice demanding, dropped an octave and it sent a shiver up her spine. [Name] would be lying to herself if she said that it didn't make the her stomach knot up. Kyoujurou pulled out his phone pointed it towards her, trying to get a good angle and lighting.

"Now, give me a smile!" He beamed in his usual cheery tone. [Name] smiled posing her usual peace sign as he clicked away at his phone. Had she just imagined that?

The day seemed to slip past them as they took pictures with their phones and disposal camera they bought at the one of the stands for a whooping $25. Which was a total rip off, but then again bottled water was $5. The pair were laughing as they looked through the pictures they had taken throughout their trip.

"Oh, no. You are not keeping this one." She reached over to tap the trash can on his phone screen to get rid of the terrible photo that was her inhaling funnel cake. But before she could, Kyoujurou moved his screen away from her as he chuckled at [name] getting flustered. There was no way he'd let her get away with such a cute picture.

"I am definitely going to be framing this as soon as we get back." And that made [name]'s face inflame in embarrassment and shock. She was definitely, not going to let him do that.

"You delete that, right. Now!" She tried her best to extend her arms in every which way Kyoujurou was flexing his arms out but to avail. [Name] knew she wasn't going to get her hands on his phone, but she kept leaning over in an attempt to get an advantage on his long arms. That was until she clambered into his lap, face first into his crotch.

Kyoujurou froze and his breath hitched as he lowered his arm down and let unholy thoughts pass through his head but he quickly shook them off. "A-are you alright, [name]?"

Nope, now [name] was definitely going to die. She slowly rose out of his lap and plopped back into her seat, trying her best not to make the situation even more awkward. She shot him a smile in a strive to shake off the graceless action of diving face first into the crotch of her crush.

"I'm all good." She took a deep breath before looking up at the darkening sky. Kyoujurou couldn't tell what she was thinking, but it looked almost as if she was unfazed which he was very thankful for.

"Let's go on the ferris wheel before we leave!" That snapped him out of his thoughts. A grin now making its way back onto his face and a sound of approval emitted from his lips. "Let's do it!"

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

[Name] snickered to herself as they entered the ferris wheel seating after letting several people ahead of them. It was all going according to plan, well, not the face planting into Kyoujurou’s lap. That was definitely not in the plan she and Shinobu had concocted.

“So, here the game plan.” Shinobu stated matter-o-factly. Her name were in a crouched position as if in a very important football team meeting. “You’re gonna look hot. Like I’m talking Jennifer’s Body hot. And then—“

”But i don’t have clothes like that.”

“Shut up. We’ll go shopping. And your make up has got to be perfect like I’m talking no melting off your face looking like the Corpse Bride. Oh, and you’re drowning yourself in sexy perfume every thirty minutes.”

”But I—“

”Speak out of line one more time and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Fine.”

“Back to what I was saying. You’re gonna take loads of pics start it off friendly and lighthearted and then bam! You get him on that ferris wheel and get your flirt on. End the night off with a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel.”

Shinobu was extremely gifted in giving pep talks and revving them up. Which was probably why she was captain of the cheer team at their university.

[Name] felt like she was a crazy high. She could practically run four miles nonstop with the attitude she had in that moment.

Shinobu and her high fived, one leg kicked up in to the air with the most triumphant looks on their faces. “We got this!”

She shook her head as if to shake away the thought.

”You, ok?”

She smiled at the slightly dampened Kyoujorou who’s cheek were tinted pink from the heat. Beads of sweat has slid down his temples, but that only seemed to add to his sex appeal.

”More than ok. I love ferris wheels. They’re so romantic.”

Those words left her lips and turned in a smile that was as sweet as candy. Kyoujurou’s heart leapt in his chest as he eyed her intently.

”You could say that.”

He done fucked up again. Kyoujurou wanted to kick his own ass at this point. Why was he so terrible at flirting? It made him look like he didn’t pick up any social cues at all. Which wasn’t entirely untrue. There were many times where Tengen would point out that a girl was being extremely flirtatious with him but it would simply go over his head. He would usually reject the notion claiming they were just being nice which in turn would lead to Tengen face palming. And he thought he was doing such a good job at the start.

The silence was deafening as they reached the top of the ride and it suddenly came to a jerking stop. The view was wondrous. The sun kissed at their faces and grazed the tops of trees and the peaks of roller coaster rides. Brightly colored lights flashed simultaneously down below, but [Name]’s  stomach felt like it was caving in the longer she stared. Very romantic, indeed.

Her face must’ve looked a little green because Kyoujurou’s expression turned into a worried one. “You sure you’re okay, [name]? Have some water.”

She grabbed the bottle he handed to her and instead of water falling like she usually did, she pressed her lips against the same place his had been. Kyoujurou’s eyes widened in surprise as she absentmindedly guzzled his drink down and gave it back to him. His hands turning into fists as he flexed as hard he could to keep the warmth that was rising away from that region.

“Thanks.” She gasped. [Name] wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she leaned back against the seat. So much for her game plan. She sighed to herself as she collected her thoughts. What difference would it make if she just told him right now.

”Kyoujurou.” The name left her lips so effortlessly. He loved the way she said his name. He would think about it mostly in the shower, but more innocently before he went to sleep.

He raised his eyebrows fully attentive now. She turned to face him as she leaned forward. A different look on her face. Soft and flustered. “I like you, a lot.”

His body stiffened for a moment and a cool breeze swooped past their longing gazes. The sudden realization had dawned upon him that those words weren’t just make believe. She had really uttered them into existence. He hadn’t noticed how close her lips were to his until he felt her minty breath fan against his nose. He didn’t pull away.

[Name] closed the distance between their lips and Kyoujurou instinctively leaned in more as soon as they made contact. His hand cupped her cheek to deepen the kiss and she sighed in delight. A smile now etched on her face had now infected him and he pulled away to look at her. He caressed her cheek as she giggled and he gazed her puzzled.

”Did I do something wrong?” If he kissed her wrong he definitely wanted to know. One thing about Kyoujurou was that he was always open to constructive criticism. She shook her head. The content look on her face still evident.

”Not at all.” She leaned in once more. “I just didn’t expect you to be so frigid.”

She giggled again at his surprised, yet embarrassed mien. However, [name] stopped giggling when she saw the determined look on his face.

”Well, I can do better.” He suddenly captured her lips and she instantly melted at his hot touch. His hand loosely on her waist and she moaned a bit as their kisses turn into feverish open mouthed ones. His lips detached from hers as he felt the the ride coming back down. [Name] felt like her whole body was in flames and there Kyoujurou was sitting there as cool as a cucumber.

The ride shifted the shuttle as the two got up and his hands slipped in hers as he lead them out. She couldn’t believe  the stunt he just pulled. Her fingers on her lips still feeling the ghost of his. He laughed heartily at her reddened face and that captured her attention.

”Don’t worry. We can continue that when we get back.”

[Name] was speechless, but somehow was even more flushed than before. Kyoujurou chuckled at her again as he pulled her in for a side hug as they headed back to his car. The smug look never left his face.

[antoine-roquentin]

The popular conception of chivalry, as a moral code guiding the behavior of honorable knights, is flat-out, laughably wrong. That’s a creation of 19th-century authors like Walter Scott, and the popular fantasy authors (basically up until George R.R. Martin) who built on their worldview in the 20th.

In reality, chivalry was all about one particular version of Guys Being Dudes. Chivalry could refer to a few different things, but the most common meaning was simply battlefield deeds, executed with some style. This, what knights referred to as “prowess,” was at the core of the broader ideology of chivalry: raw, bloody, physical performance, violence done effectively and to an agreed-upon aesthetic standard. The second major concern of chivalry, honor, grew directly out of the first. Honor wasn’t an abstract concept to medieval knights; it was a possession, a recognition of their particular status and place in the social hierarchy, which they were well within their rights to violently defend and assert through their prowess. Piety was the icing on the cake, but no knight really doubted that God approved of their actions.

An oral culture, passed around during training sessions and drinking bouts and feasts and military campaigns, produced this culture and inculcated new knights into it. A whole universe of texts, the kinds of things knights read or had read to them, sent the same message, like this 12th-century poem called Girart de Vienne:

When I see the whinnying war-steeds plunge

With worthy knights into a battle’s crush,

And see their spears and cutting blades well struck,

There is nothing on earth I love so much!

These were dudes who loved getting after it, and for them, getting after it meant blood-soaked deeds on the battlefield. It’s not that there was nothing more to it - sure, there were some bits about romance and ladies, debates about religiosity and moral actions, exhortations to do better - but the core was always physical, male violence. And it obviously wasn’t for everyone: Knights were members of a hereditary military aristocracy, and their possession of chivalry was what set them apart from dirty peasants.

Two aspects neatly parallel modern Bro Culture: first, the emphasis on physicality and the body, and how that provided both a sense of the self and secured social status; and second, the restricted, bubble-like world that produced and emphasized it, with its fictional and real heroes, its stories about great deeds, its values, and its models to be emulated. Your average knight would absolutely identify with and appreciate this impossibly toxic meathead sentiment:

Obviously, there are pieces that don’t neatly parallel, the biggest ones being the hereditary and explicitly military nature of chivalry. You don’t have to be a soldier to be a Bro, though it doesn’t hurt. And - much more important - you aren’t born into being a Bro; you become one, by doing worthy deeds of prowess.

That’s a quintessentially American value: the idea that anybody can make something of themselves if they work hard enough, move enough weight, run fast enough, practice enough to shoot a tight grouping, make the right sacrifices. The physical meritocracy (and its potential rewards of fame and fortune) is open to anyone willing to do whatever it takes to climb the ladder. Even the least intellectually gifted meathead can make something of himself if he does the workouts, takes the right gear, and builds his audience on YouTube and Instagram. Don’t forget to like and subscribe, and smash that follow button.

In a moment of stagnant social mobility, rising inequality, and incredible uncertainty around the future, this strongly visual message of self-betterment and improving one’s socioeconomic status through literal sweat can resonate deeply. It’s all within the individual’s control, if they simply work enough - an antidote to all that uncertainty, everything that’s so obviously beyond an individual’s control and reckoning, no matter how misleading and incomplete the formula actually is.

That’s especially appealing to the many millions of American men who don’t have college degrees (many more of them than women, given the gendered trends in undergraduate enrollment) who are effectively locked out of professional-managerial culture and its straightforward path into the comfortable upper-middle class. Accomplishment through physical prowess is thus a means of building both a sense of self and community.

The connections to this particular moment in American culture and history go much deeper than that, though. This whole edifice of Bro Culture grows out of the broader rise of influencers, performative self-branding through social media, and the construction of identity through consumption.

With the right protein powder, shilled by your favorite strongman, you too can deadlift 800 pounds, or at least tell yourself you’ll get there someday. With the right brand of CBD tincture, which sponsors your favorite Crossfit athlete, you won’t feel that burning pain in your rotator cuff after you clean and jerk too much weight with suboptimal technique. By religiously listening to the right Bro-approved entrepreneurship podcast, hosted by some guy who happened to get booked on the Joe Rogan Experience during a slow week, you too can buy a McMansion in an affordable suburb.

Much of what happens in Bro Culture is driven by lifestyle consumption: ads for sunglasses on Barstool Sports’ Pardon My Take podcast, brand partnerships between supplement companies and YouTube stars, tactical holsters for concealed-carry that an ex-Marine with a million Instagram followers wants you to buy. It’s self-actualization through sponsor codes.

The tactical lifestyle craze, a natural outgrowth of this particular slice of Bro Culture, is the logical endpoint of all this. It’s where entrepreneurial late capitalism and influencer trends meet imperial wars, the militarization of the police, and the emergence of Gun Guys as a default protected class within American society. You’re not a Crossfitter anymore; you’re a “tactical athlete,” doing varied types of interval, cardio, and strength training so you can be a more effective soldier or cop or firefighter or whatever, or you just want to feel like you could be one. The physical training is only part of this, since you can prominently declare your tactical affiliations with a variety of lifestyle products, ranging from coffee mugs to American flag stickers for your car to, naturally, firearms....

Just as much as its coffee, whose quality I can’t speak to, Black Rifle Coffee Company is selling the tactical lifestyle. They offer a staggering variety of T-shirts, hoodies, hats, mugs, thermoses, and stickers, many of them prominently branded with the eponymous “black rifle” of the brand. There are a lot of American flags and pieces of law-enforcement and military iconography, signifiers of the in-groups to whom the consumers of BRCC’s products belong, want to belong, or for whom they want to signal their support. BRCC has explicitly labeled itself as a coffee company for conservatives, an active participant in the culture wars. If you don’t like Starbucks and its effete, refugee-supporting, liberal tendencies, buy some Black Rifle product instead. If you like Trump, you’ll be at home with BRCC. Don Jr. endorsed them.

After the picture of Rittenhouse in the Black Rifle Coffee Company shirt appeared, its founder Evan Hafer quickly disavowed the youthful shooter. Even for an explicitly MAGA coffee company, supporting a teenaged AR enthusiast with blood on his hands was a bridge too far. But Rittenhouse had already been shaped by the world BRCC and its fellow-travelers have made. He got the message, loud and clear: You too can become a hero, or at least dress and drink coffee like one, by purchasing the right products, watching the right videos, and following the same Extended Bro Culture influencers. Don’t forget to like and subscribe.

The Veteran-owned piece of BRCC’s appeal isn’t a coincidence. They’re selling a position in the culture wars, a sense of belonging, but also a particular vision of what it means to be American, a man, and an American man. A staggering number of this part of Bro Culture’s key figures are veterans. Jocko Willink, perhaps the best known (and least openly political) of the bunch, was a Navy SEAL officer; he was actually the commanding officer of the famous sniper Chris Kyle during the Battle of Ramadi in 2006.

After retiring, Willink turned his SEAL experience into a career as a leadership consultant, motivational speaker, media personality, and energy drink salesman. His intensity, built on his military service, is legendary: His exhortations to do hard things regularly, to live by a code, and take responsibility for oneself, resonate with millions of people. And Willink is far from the only one to do so, turning overseas service in imperial wars, especially as a special forces operator, into a key component of his entrepreneurial appeal. This isn’t a judgement on his military service; it’s a statement of fact. Being an undeniable badass is a the core part of why Jocko Willink is a quintessential Bro Hero.

Imperial wars overseas always come home eventually, and they do so in complex ways. The fact that millions of people listen to Jocko Willink, buy Black Rifle Coffee Company merchandise, and dabble in more extreme fringes is a product of decades spent elevating not just military service writ large but violent combat overseas against ill-defined Others. For every Jocko Willink, there’s an Eddie Gallagher, the SEAL who was convicted of and then recently pardoned for war crimes after becoming a cause célèbre for large swathes of the online right.

If these are the heroes Bro Culture puts forth - special operators accustomed to high-intensity, high-volume fighting overseas, who then develop enormous media platforms - it’s obvious what message Kyle Rittenhouse and the innumerable police officers, tactical fitness enthusiasts, and more run-of-the-mill viewers and listeners will take. Millions of people listen to Joe Rogan when he talks to Jocko Willink, Tim Kennedy (the Green Beret and MMA fighter and increasingly open right-wing figure), or Cameron Hanes (who advocated for Eddie Gallagher’s release). They’re warriors. Joe Rogan isn’t a soldier, but he’s a black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, a former competitive kickboxer, a bowhunter, and a firearms enthusiast. If these are the people at the core of Bro Culture, a culture that directly touches tens of millions of American men, then there are bound to be knock-on effects. If they’re constantly telling their listeners to be ready, to be tactical, to be prepared to fight and to be good at it, that means something.

This is why I think Bro Culture, or at least its extended reaches, deserve more scrutiny and attention. The code of American manhood that’s developing out of this social-media melting pot has some aspects that bear watching: A love of firearms centered on tactical usefulness (for use in what context, exactly?), a vision of muscular physicality, self-defense as a personal obligation, an unquestioning hero-worship of military culture, and far too often, a deep suspicion of people who don’t subscribe to this precise view of being a guy. Support the Troops, and if you don’t, you’re not really a man at all. If cops - quintessential subjects of Bro Culture - are told that they need to be bigger and stronger and quicker on the draw, that they’re basically Troops, and that the targets of violence deserve what they get, what’s the likely outcome of tense interactions between police and the people they’re supposed to serve?

[ghostly-cabbage]

Frigid (Chapter 3)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends

Chapter Rating: M (Language, Underage Drug Use)

Word Count: 5,326

AO3  FFN

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Dear old Dad got home late that night while Wes and Kyle were tucking into a plate of pizza rolls. Wes heard the door open and his Dad's voice from down the hall.

"Tell Roger that it doesn't matter, whatever it takes, Mr. Masters expects it to get done." He walked past the living room without so much as a glance at the two of them. His voice faded down the hall punctuated by the sound of his door closing.

Wes snorted and stuffed another pizza roll in his mouth. Stupid Dad with his stupid government job. Why the hell bring them to Illinois just to ignore them? He curled his fingers into the upholstery of their new couch, gripping it until his fingertips ached and the smell from the Ikea warehouse threatened to make him sick. He forced himself to swallow the bite and shoved his plate onto the coffee table.

He got up and went to the kitchen for a capri-sun. If it hadn't been Kyle that bought them, he'd be pissed about that too. His Dad seemed to treat him like he was still in elementary school no matter how old he got.

Wes slammed the fridge door hard enough he heard the dressing and condiment bottles rattle inside. He went back to the living room, the TV illuminating the space in it's flickering light.

He flopped backwards onto the couch, pushing his back into the corner of the sectional, wishing it'd swallow him up. Kyle was watching some alien history documentary. How ghosts could be pure fiction but aliens were "science-fact" was beyond Wes. He rolled his eyes and got out his phone, pulling up his knees.

Instagram was a short reprieve, or it should have been. He scrolled past post after post of his old friends back in California, smiling wide in front of the beach, or the boys at the park playing basketball. Over there they hadn't even started school yet, and wouldn't until the end of the month. To say he envied them was a gross understatement.

"Are you gonna eat those?" Wes glanced up over his knees to see his brother pointing at his abandoned pizza rolls.

"Go for it," he said. Kyle scooped up his plate and went to town. Wes really should be doing his chapter reading for History, but the thought made him want to set something on fire. A part of him felt like he should be grateful for a fresh start after the divorce, but another part of him wanted nothing more than to dig his heels in. Just because his Mom was a liar and his Dad was an asshole didn't mean they had to move across the country, why didn't they get that? Maybe they did, and just didn't care.

He scrolled on his phone long enough for Kyle to watch another episode. By the end Wes had been sitting and refreshing his feed over and over again. He watched the buffer wheel spin, screen go white and the same post as last time take its most recent position at the top. He pulled down again, and watched the wheel spin for the millionth time.

"Dude, this is just depressing to watch."

He glanced over at Kyle, narrowing his eyes. "Got nothing better to do." It was a lie and they both knew it. Kyle flicked the TV off and stood up from the couch.

"C'mon." Kyle came to stand in front of him expectantly.

"What?"

"Let's go have roof time."

Wes made a face. "You're so weird, don't call it that. Cringy as fuck, man."

Kyle grabbed a pillow and swung it lazily towards Wes' head. "C'moooon lil bro! It's roof time!" He said it in a big brother voice that always pissed Wes off.

"No. Fuck off." Wes held up an arm to shield his head.

"C'mon!" Kyle insisted. "Don't you wanna spend time with your brother?" he pouted. He swung the pillow at him again.

"I'm gonna kick you in the balls."

"Weeeeesslleeeyyyy! C'mooooon."

"Oh my god, you're so fucking annoying." Wes kicked half-heartedly towards his brother. He held up both arms to try and fend off the onslaught of his brother's pillow attack.

"I'll stop if you agree to go sit outside with me, Wes! Surrender, you're out matched, kid!" Kyle picked up another pillow in his left hand, and continued batting at him. Wes tried to bury the beginnings of a smile behind a sour expression.

"You just—Ow, stop— You just wanna go get high, don't you?"

"Oh, absolutely. But you think I'm going to sit out there alone like some kind of loser?"

Wes anticipated his brother's next swing, and snatched the pillow from him. Now it was his turn. True to his word, he kicked a foot out directly into his brother's crotch. Kyle grunted and stumbled back a step, hands going down to grab his groin. Wes capitalized on his opportunity and lunged forward, springing off the couch to tackle his brother to the ground.

They hit the carpet with a loud thud, and became a tangle of limbs.

"Oh it's on, kiddo!" Wes couldn't hold back a laugh as he wrestled his brother. He attempted to push the pillow onto Kyle's face at the same time as his brother was trying to twist his arm around in a joint lock.

"Shut up, you're only a year older than me," Wes said, wriggling out of his brother's grip, and yanking his hat down over his eyes.

"A destined rematch to determine the stronger brother! A tale as old as time!" Kyle fought blindly to get a hold back on Wes. Wes whacked him on the side of the head with the pillow.

"You're a moron," he said without any real venom. Kyle flung his hat away.

"Don't make me purple nurple you like last time."

Wes hit him again with the pillow as Kyle tried to steal it from him. "Try it, bitch, I'll kick your ass."

"I did wrestling for two years!"

"Yeah, in middle school, now you're just lame and out of shape."

Kyle gasped. "Bro, take it back." He twisted the pillow hard to the right and broke Wes' hold on it.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. You're not out of shape, just the lame part." Wes tried to get out of Kyle's reach to escape retribution, but he wasn't fast enough. Kyle got a hold of his shirt, and yanked him into a headlock. It had no real pressure behind it.

"Hah ha! What have we here? Could it possibly be that I win again?"

Wes rolled his eyes and pushed up on his brother's arm to break the loop. "Shut up, stupid-ass," he muttered. They broke apart, and Kyle stood up, offering him a hand. Wes accepted it with a puff. Kyle yanked him to his feet and punched him in the center of his chest.

"Ow."

"Kyle : 1 Wes : 0!"

Wes stopped. "Hey, wait, our score was up in the hundreds! What gives? I was winning you asshole." He'd challenged Kyle to a game of Horse last month and it had been a slaughter to say the least. Kyle was walking towards the stairs.

"Nu-uh, new-state-clean-slate, bro, we're starting over!"

"That's stupid, and I didn't agree to that. You're just a sore loser." Wes trudged up the stairs after his brother.

"Guess you'll just have to wait till our next rematch." Kyle shrugged, pushing into his room with a shoulder. Their rooms shared a wall, Kyle's being the furthest down the hall. They both had north facing windows that had access to the brow of the roof which overlooked the pool in the backyard. Moving from a place with obscene living expenses to the armpit of Illinois had its perks he guessed.

"Pick the challenge then. How about MarioKart?" he offered.

"After last time? No way dude." Kyle went to his bedside table to retrieve a small baggie of weed and his pipe and lighter. Not that their Dad ever checked, but a pipe was easier to hide, and less hassle than a bong. Or so Kyle said. Wes didn't really mess around with the stuff if he could help it. The times he tried made him so paranoid it felt like the end was nigh.

"Ugh, fine, princess. What about Smash?" Wes slid the window open and popped out the screen.

"Best outta five?"

"Sure, tomorrow after school? You can't play worth shit while high."

"Bruh, I'm great at playing while high, makes all the distractions just—" he wiggled his fingers— "fall away."

Wes snorted. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. The AI Pikachu wiped the floor with you." Wes climbed out onto the roof, scooting to the side so Kyle had room to clamber out. Kyle handed him his pipe to hold and followed after.

"No, that's not what happened, okay?" Kyle pointed an accusing finger. "I let that adorable little rat fuck win, because what kind of monster would I be if I destroyed Pikachu?"

Wes rolled his eyes. Kyle settled next to him, hanging his legs over the side and reached for his stuff back. Wes looked up at the sky, leaning his weight back on his hands. It was another clear night, the stars bright and unblemished. He heard the flick of his brother's lighter, but paid it no mind. The lack of light pollution was nice, if there was one positive from this whole situation, it was that.

The wind stirred, a chill laced in that made Wes wish he'd brought his jacket. He was looking forward to the snow. He'd only seen snow once when was ten and his parents took all of them on a skiing trip to Lake Tahoe. He remembered biting it on the bunny hill, and how Kyle laughed so much while picking him up that he'd dropped him more than once. The memory felt brittle, like if he touched on it too much it might break into a million pieces. It always felt like that, remembering what it was like to be happy, to be a family. His parents had broken enough, he wanted this thing, this one little thing to stay whole.

Was it childish to want that?

He glanced at Kyle, who exhaled a plume of smoke, the slope of his shoulders loose and relaxed. For all his flaws and his seriously maddening, downright annoying personality, Wes was glad to have Kyle. After the divorce they'd gotten closer, and he wasn't really sure where he'd be right now without his brother.

Not that he'd ever admit something so fucking embarrassing out loud. Jesus, what was he? He sounded like a Hallmark card.

He rubbed an eye, and laid back, the shingles of the roof cold against his back. The two were in a comfortable silence, Kyle too preoccupied with making short work of the bowl he'd packed to make conversation yet. That was alright with Wes. He was tired and still a little freaked out after today. He knew better than to bring up his run in with the ghost at school to Kyle.

This place was weird, and he had so many questions he felt like he was going insane. First thing tomorrow he was going to ask someone what the hell was going on in this town. He could try and ask the Danny Fenton kid, since his parents were apparently the ghost experts. He rolled the idea around for a few seconds in his head. Maybe it'd be best to ask more than one person. Leave Danny as a last resort.

He was staring at the first stars of Orion as they peaked over the dark horizon. That's when he saw it. His brows furrowed and he sat up.

"Dude, do you see that?" He smacked the back of his hand against Kyle's arm.

"What?" Kyle looked up.

"That!" He pointed. In the sky and getting closer was a glowing streak.

It wasn't a star, or a comet, that was for damn sure. It was flying in a wide circling pattern. It was fast, whatever it was.

Kyle gasped next to him. "Holy shit, a UFO." Kyle fumbled around to try and get his phone, in his haste he sent his lighter tumbling down the roof and off the edge. Wes trained his eyes on the shape as it got closer, squinting. Kyle had gotten his phone and had started recording, feverishly commentating about the time, place, and the appearance of an "alien craft".

Wes leaned forward, straining his eyes. As the shape wound closer it looked… almost humanoid? It seemed to move in a thoughtful systematic way. Like it was covering specific ground.

"I'm so putting this on my Snapchat story," Kyle said. He turned his phone towards Wes. "Say hi! In case it goes viral."

"Dude, stop." Wes pushed his brother's phone away from his face and back towards the… well. UFO.

As suddenly as it had appeared, it sharply changed direction and flew away, before blipping out of existence entirely. It hadn't gotten close enough to identify, but Kyle seemed to only care about his video and nothing else. Wes sat there thoroughly confused, staring at the point in the sky the shape had vanished into thin air.

"Clearly this is evidence of alien superior technology. The fact it sped up and disappeared so fast means they've cracked flight speeds faster than light, dude!" Kyle buzzed. He was tapping on his phone, already sending the video to everyone he knew.

Aliens, really? Could this day get any weirder?

"Look, look, Hannah, snapped me back." Kyle leaned over so they could both see his screen. He opened the Snap, and Wes saw a girl with blonde hair and dark eye shadow. He vaguely recognized her from school, part of Kyle's new stoner group of friends. The video showed just the top of her face as she looked down at her phone. Her eyes were crinkled at the corners.

"Kyle, what the fuck," she laughed. "That's not an alien, doofus. It's clearly a ghost. Probably Phantom. He flies around almost every night." She leaned back and sprayed canned whipped cream directly into her mouth. " 'Aliens'! Oh my god I'm totally telling Jennie." She snorted as she laughed and the snap ended.

Phantom? That was Phantom? The image of the ghost boy from earlier lingered in his mind. Kyle was already recording a video to send back.

"Hannah, obviously you have very little experience with UFO's. I know an alien when I see one and that was an A L I E N. Okay? Don't buy into this ghost conspiracy, it's what people want you to think, but it's probably all aliens! Or beings from like the 4th dimension, I don't know."

His brother's voice sounded too loud. His eyes traced the place where the shape… the ghost had been. He rubbed at his temples with his fingers. Kyle continued arguing with his new local friends, protesting the idea of ghosts. Wes sighed, a headache building behind his eyes.

He nudged his brother with an elbow. "I'm gonna get to bed." Kyle gave him a distracted goodbye and Wes headed back inside, mind swirling with the image of white hair and glowing green eyes.

***

Joy.

His sleep that night had been fitful and interrupted. He didn't have any nightmares, or at least none he could remember, thank God. But there were a few times he could have sworn there was someone standing in his doorway, watching. He shook it from his thoughts by busying himself with his camera.

The final bell for first period rang and with it commenced the beginning of the school day.

Students with no cameras of their own were having some checked out to them for photography class. The teacher told them to check over everything and make sure all previous files were deleted from the memory card, and there were no cracked lenses. He ignored the majority of what was being said.

When he was young he would use his Mom's camera. Just to mess around really, it wasn't like he had the lofty goals of being a professional photographer. But his Mom didn't see it like that. She bought him lenses and his own high-end camera for his 16th birthday. That was before everything fell apart. Before he found out about Emily.

Once the class started going he hoped he'd enjoy it and actually learn something. He was ready to start taking pictures already. Unfortunately, the day's class was all about the different buttons and functions on the cameras, explaining exposure, aperture and manually managing the iso. Uck. Yawn.

Towards the end of class Ms. Fletcher let them have "free time" to explore the options on their cameras on their own. Learn by doing and all that.

"This is way too much all at once," complained the girl next to him. Mia, was her name, if he remembered correctly. She had brown hair, and light eyes, her tan skin suggesting a mixed heritage. She was turning her camera around in her hands like a kid trying to find the on switch on a new toy. He smiled, turning toward her.

"First time using a fancy camera?"

She let out an agitated sigh. "Yeah. I took this class because I thought it'd be easy and I could just, I don't know, take cute pictures of my dog or something." She put the camera down on the table, gently, like she was afraid of breaking it despite her frustration.

"Yeah, it can be complicated at first." He lifted his own to inspect it.

"You brought your own, right? That's not a shitty school one."

"Yeah, it's mine. Birthday gift."

Mia whistled. "Pricy, your parents must be loaded."

Wes shrugged a shoulder, "I wouldn't say that exactly."

"Don't be modest, it's okay!" She patted him on the shoulder. "Plus I'm sure however rich your family is, it's nowhere near the Mansons."

"The Mansons?"

"Uh...yeah." She looked confused for a second before understanding flickered in her eyes. "Oh, that's right you're new. Sam Manson, the spooky goth chick that hangs around Fenton and Foley. She's in our homeroom class." She held her pointer fingers up by her ears to mime bat ears.

"Oh, yeah, her."

"She says she doesn't like people knowing even though it's super obvious. Her parents are always in the news for making donations and stuff."

They fell into an awkward silence, and Mia shuffled her feet.

"Well, uh. Tell you what. If you help me with this camera crap, I'll…" She stopped to think. "I'll give you the inside scoop about the school. Help you get caught up and fit in, ya'know?" She held her hand towards him. "Sound good?"

Wes would have helped her out even if she hadn't offered to keep him in the social loop. It could be useful, especially for a few things in particular.

"Deal." He shook her hand, a little surprised by her grip strength.

"I'm not as popular as Paulina and Star but I still have an ear to the ground. So if you want to know who's single or who can write your english essay on the cheap: I'm your girl." She pulled her hand back to jab a thumb at her chest for emphasis.

Wes chuckled. "Thanks. I actually do have some questions."

"Shoot."

"This Phantom ghost, what do you know about him?"

She looked surprised, before she smiled. There was something in her expression that Wes couldn't place.

"Phantom? Really?" She shrugged. "Alright, I see you." She scooted her chair closer to his. "Phantom showed up freshman year, no one knows why, but since he popped up he's been saving Amity from all sorts of ghosts." She said it like it was the most normal, perfectly sane thing. "Not only is he hella cute but he's also basically a hero."

Wes frowned in confusion. That wasn't at all what Mr. and Mrs. Fenton had said. "Why would a ghost help people? What's he get out of it? Also, isn't he… you know. Dead? Isn't it kinda creepy to have a crush on him?"

"How should I know? And dead or alive, he's still a total heart throb around here, get used to it." She sighed, looking fed up with his lack of understanding. "Listen, all I do know is that if an evil ghost is breathing down your neck your only real hope in this place is Phantom. Really, ask anyone." Wes' thoughts drifted back to his brush with death yesterday..

"You shouldn't be telling people the fantasy version of things, Mia," came a cold voice. Wes jumped, turning to look at the girl looming over them. Her arms were crossed over her chest, curly hair back lit by the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling. Fantasy version? What was Valerie talking about?

Mia's face went from warm and open to closed and stand-offish. She crossed her legs and sat back in her chair.

"Oh come on Valerie, we all know you're not a fan of him, but you could at least try and be reasonable."

"Reasonable? Don't listen to her new kid," Valerie jabbed a finger towards him, "if there's one thing Phantom is good at, it's manipulating the public perception. Don't be fooled like the rest of this school, Phantom will ruin your life without an ounce of remorse."

Wes blinked, caught off guard by her ferocity. In chemistry she seemed like a perfectly normal, kind girl. He made a mental note not to get on her bad side.

Mia made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. "He wasn't asking you Valerie, he was asking me. Butt out."

Mia and Valerie glared hard at each other, neither backing down. It went on for what felt like ever. Wes was afraid he was about to end up right in the middle of a cat fight. But eventually, Valerie let out a sound of disgust then turned and stalked off back to her table. Mia watched her go, gaze steady. Once Valerie sat down, Mia relaxed and let out a breath.

"God, she really needs to get that stick out of her ass."

"What the hell was that about?"

"Apparently freshman year her Dad lost his job and she's convinced it was Phantom's fault." Mia uncrossed her legs, sitting more casually again.

"Was it?"

Mia looked annoyed. "I don't know, I wasn't there." She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a small swatch and braiding it absentmindedly. "Listen, people have different opinions... but Phantom saved my life." It was small and serious the way she said it, like it was a confession. "And not just once but on several occasions. It's fine to ask questions, I don't blame you. But just wait and watch, then decide for yourself." Before Wes could say or ask anymore, the bell rang. Mia started collecting her stuff.

"See you tomorrow, Wes," she said brightly, as if the seriousness from before was just a figment of his imagination.

Sixth period rolled around and Wes was ready for the day to be over with already.

In his previous classes he'd asked other students here and there about the ghosts, and even if he didn't directly ask about Phantom, the conversation eventually led there anyway.

"Uh, yeah. Tomorrow." He watched her go, getting up and gathering his own belongings.

***

He did regret asking Star during lunch, which seemed to have summoned Paulina from the aether. She went on almost the entire lunch period about how her and the ghost boy were "meant to be" and how cute he was, with his snow white hair and tanned skin. Wes was debating faking a family emergency to get away from her. Talk about obsessed.

He shook his head at the memory and closed his locker.

He started walking down the hall, daydreaming about whatever gourmet frozen dinner him and Kyle would have later for dinner. He was about to turn the corner down the hall towards the chem room when he heard a raised voice.

Next up: Chemistry. At the thought he deflated further. He'd totally forgotten about the quiz today. Damnnit, Fenton.

He started walking down the hall, daydreaming about whatever gourmet frozen dinner him and Kyle would have later for dinner. He was about to turn the corner down the hall towards the chem room when he heard a raised voice. 

“Hey Fentina, watch where you’re fucking going.” He turned towards the sound to look. The halls were clearing, there being only a minute or so till class, but that didn’t stop the few scattered people from stopping to idly watch Dash Baxter slam Danny Fenton against a locker. Wes couldn’t help but wince. From the sound alone he’d guess that was going to leave a bruise. 

“You might be taller now but that doesn’t mean I won’t still flatten you, got that?” Dash announced. He was clearly making a show of it. Wes wondered why. Fenton was definitely the lowest on the social ladder, why would someone like Dash need to establish his power over someone who had none? Wes shifted his weight, remembering that trying to apply logic to bullies was a losing battle. 

Danny though… He seemed completely... unfazed. He looked at Dash like an overworked retail employee looked at a raving customer. The dark bags under his eyes and the uncaring air he had coupled with his black hoodie and torn jeans made him look like an emo band's wet dream. 

“Got it, now can we all get to class, please? I’m trying not to be tardy as much this year,” Danny said. Dash leaned further into Danny’s space. 

“Dream on, Fenton,” Dash leered. He leaned back and let Danny go. He made to leave, or at least Wes thought he was. Danny seemed to think so too. Which meant he was caught off guard when Dash turned and punched him in the stomach. Even from a few paces away, Wes heard the air rush from Danny’s lungs. He staggered a bit, arm wrapping around his midsection. 

Dash laughed and walked off, flexing an arm to his football team buddies who joined in as they made their way down the hall like a pack of hyenas. 

As if that was the cue, everyone that had stopped to watch went back to their own business, as if nothing happened. Wes didn’t know what to think at that moment. He knew everyone called Danny a loser, and he hadn’t exactly gotten along with the guy himself but… That felt like a step too far. He couldn’t help but pity the poor dude a bit.

 It had been a long time since Wes was the one pushed around the school yard. He remembered what it felt like though, and he had never been in a rush to expose himself to the kind of treatment again. In fact he’d done just about anything to keep himself from the bottom. He’d done his fair share of looking down on losers and saying cruel things to be accepted into the throng of popular kids in California. He wasn’t proud of it, as he got older he realized that. It made his stomach clench with guilt and shame. 

He’d have never done what Dash just did though. 

Wes watched Danny lean a shoulder against the wall of lockers and catch his breath. He glanced around, and when he was satisfied that no one was still watching, he straightened, took a breath and rolled a shoulder, nonchalant. 

Wes felt his brain stutter and stop. 

Uh. What? 

Just a second ago Danny was writhing in pain the way someone just punched in the gut would, and the next he was acting like he was fine. Like he’d just got done with a leisurely jog.  

At this point Wes was starting to wonder if he was being gaslit by this whole school, what the fuck? 

He watched Danny put a book into his locker, and then lock it up. He started down the hallway, no evidence he was in any pain or struggling for breath what-so-ever. Wes turned and walked towards the classroom. He didn’t want Danny to know he’d been watching from around the corner. 

Wes sat down, spreading out his stuff, trying to make it look like he'd been there for ages. A few seconds later the tardy bell rang. Another few seconds after that, Danny walked in. 

“Mr. Fenton, you’re late—”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t make eye contact with the teacher, just made a beeline for their desk and slumped into his seat. Mrs. Merriweather looked ticked. 

“Pick up your tardy slip at the end of class young man.” 

“Yep.” 

Even Mrs. Merriweather seemed taken aback by Danny’s odd energy, but she said nothing else. Instead she jumped into the lesson plan for the day. 

Wes wasn’t paying attention. He was looking at his lab partner, still trying to figure out what he’d just seen. Maybe Danny had just been acting like it was worse than it was to… what, get sympathy? Have Dash back off quicker? Both seemed likely, logical. It must have been, what else could it be? 

Danny seemed to feel his eyes on him. He turned to Wes, his blue eyes sharp and angry. 

“What?” he snapped. 

“Nothing. Sorry.” Wes disengaged, looking down at his blank notebook page. He heard Danny sigh, but he didn’t know what sort of emotion drove it. 

Class dragged on, and they didn’t say another word to each other the entire period. But that wasn’t too surprising, considering Danny left in the middle of class. 

They’d just got done taking their lab safety quiz, and were handing them back when out of the corner of his eye Wes saw Danny shiver. He also saw a flash of… what looked like smoke? Vape? Was Danny seriously vaping in class? 

“Fuck,” Danny muttered under his breath and his hand shot straight up into the air. “Mrs. Merriweather, can I use the bathroom before we start the lab?” Danny’s typically tired and slouched posture had gone ramrod straight, and the air around him felt desperate and panicked. Mrs. Merriwether studied him seriously for a second, before she relented. 

“Alright, don’t take too long.” 

Danny scrambled from his seat and out the door. It left a weird silence in the classroom.

O….kay? That was weird, super weird. He looked around the class. A student adjacent to him caught his confused look and shrugged. 

“He just does that, always has. Some people think he has some sort of chronic illness or something.” 

“Quiet please, everyone. I’m passing out the lab instructions and then we’ll be getting started.” 

Wes couldn’t help but look towards the door where Danny had disappeared seconds earlier. He felt pretty safe in saying not only was the town weird, but everyone in it.  But maybe Danny more so than the others. 

[badbookreviewclub]

Empress Theresa, Chapters 21-28. IT’S FINALLY OVER.

Disclaimer: If you haven’t read the previous review, you can find it here (chapters 11-20). This will contain spoilers. 

Well, the ending is finally here and holy fuck this book went off the rails. I only have one reaction to the ending of it and that’s just what the fuck. Just… What The Fuck Norman whatever the fuck you were on when you wrote the end of this book must have been some powerful shit because holy fuck. Let’s just get started and maybe you’ll see what I mean. These chapters are also completely nonsensical in how they’re put together and just so much information is shoved into them that it can get confusing. I’ll do my best to keep it clear. Chapter 21 The boat that was driven into the Exxon Maria was deemed as a terrorist attack because “the world know that this had been a terrorist bombing” (pg 321). They know this because a bunch of explosives had been smuggled onto the boat beforehand by Middle Eastern terrorists (because Norman is convinced there are no other kind of terrorists) and they drove it straight into the Exxon Maria to try and get back at Theresa for her oil mining operation. So how does Theresa retaliate? She drops the price of oil down to ten dollars a barrel. Thinking that OPEC (which I guess Norman still thinks is a terrorist organization. It’s not) is going to retaliate, Theresa has her parents moved to a safe place (West Point), and tells Prime Minister Scherzer that they have to evacuate the Israeli people now. He tells her that it will take 36 hours to start the evacuation. To remind Saudi Arabia of their deal (because there was a deal apparently in Theresa’s mind, even though there was absolutely no deals made, just an offer put on the table) Theresa raises a mountain in the middle of the Saudi Arabian desert. 

When the Israeli people start to cross evacuate via the landbridge to Crete because as it turns out, no, the island isn’t ready yet, Theresa parts the fucking sea to make giant water walls that terrorists and missiles can’t get through. Moses parting the Red Sea moment, anyone? Because of this, Prime Minister Scherzer calls Theresa the ‘Right Hand of God’. Theresa also decides that it’s time for her to head home, so the Ambassador of the United States to England asks if she would ride home on the Ronald Reagan (the same ship that led took her to the plane she was supposed to be blown up on) to give the ship her honor back. Theresa disagrees, but Steve says that Theresa should play (American) football with the navy of the Ronald Reagan against the Army (I think Norman means foot soldiers specifically). Theresa does agree eventually. 

Someone attempts to do the same drop that Theresa did when she was almost blown up and of course, rather than dissuading them, Theresa gives him tips on how he might survive. Unsurprisingly, he fucking dies. All Theresa does is say “oh whoopsy-doopsy, he fell into still water, not wavy water like I did. Must be why. Sorry that you’re dead bro. Nobody should do that again.” Chapter 22 

Theresa heads back to the United States, but in the process, HAL puts everyone in the plane into a deep sleep, including the piolets and every electronic. Somehow though, the Autopilot still works, so that’s lucky for Theresa I guess. Bitch learns how to fly a plane in under four hours. She lands it after causing millions of dollars worth of damages to the windows of buildings after flying just a little too low to them and as such that causes a lot of injuries, but she doesn’t get in trouble for that because she’s just too sweet and innocent for that. 

Chapter 23 

Am I moving really fast through this? I feel like I am. Though I will say, it’s definitely because I want to be done with this book as fast as I possibly can it’s so fucking dumb. I hate this book so much. I have never met a book that has baffled me as much as this one but absolutely fueled my anger to no end. Anyways… Theresa arrives at West Point (where her parents are) and going to the ranch house that was built specifically for her and her family. The football game takes place, and surprisingly, Theresa and the Navy lose to the Army. 48-36. I don’t know American football very well, despite living in the United States, so if anyone could tell me how good this is I would really appreciate it. 

We learn that her island is producing 3 million barrels of oil a day and by the next year is predicted to be producing 15 million barrels a day, so Theresa is rich as fuck and is going to have a monopoly on oil (what a wonderful capitalist she is). Because all the oil tycoons are worried she’s going to monopolize (she is) and then raise the price drastically, they put her into a two-year deal (bc that’s long enough) saying that the price can’t go above ten dollars a barrel. Theresa agrees without hesitation. 

It’s suggested to Theresa that she should monopolize the manufacturing industry as well, but she turns that down because it could “start a global trade war” (pg 370). 

Theresa, while being a jerk and ignoring everybody when she goes out into public because how could she possibly be expected to meet or even wave or smile at people, finally gives in and talks to 10 North Korean men (via a translator) who have brought her a PBS Documentary to show her the conditions of North Korea. Theresa watches it and is so moved that she comes down and tells the men that she’ll save their families. So essentially, this one PBS Documentary has convinced Theresa to declare war on North Korea’s government. 

Because the North Korean’s wouldn’t listen to her because she holds no power, Theresa joins the army (not really because she never ever ever ever sees combat, but she gets the titles that come with it). 

Chapter 25

Theresa gets her uniform. She specifically requests to have the male uniform because the female one doesn’t look powerful enough. She also gets men’s shoes instead of women’s shoes because the women’s would look stupid with the men’s uniform, I guess. Theresa also insists on wearing her hair down because nobody is going to say jack shit to her about it. Because Theresa got the uniform we learn that Steve has a uniform kink. “Steve thought I looked awful cute in my little uniform.  “‘Hon, you never looked better. It turns me on’” (pg 389). 

Now Norman, I thought this book didn’t have sexual content? Yet here we are, learning about Steve’s fetishes. I’m not going to fetish shame anyone, and more power to you Steve for being open with your sexuality, though I just wanted to point out that Norman specifically said this wouldn’t happen (just like the swearing). 

Anyways, Theresa goes to a meeting at the White House where she immediately becomes a five-star general, the first person after Omar Bradley died. Now I may be wrong, but Omar Bradley was a World War II veteran (a senior officer) and was Chairman of the Joint Cheifs of Staff and oversaw policymaking during the Korean War. The only thing Theresa has (realistically) done up until this point is kill off most of the population, if not all of the population. 

Theresa came up with the idea earlier on that the only way to liberate North Korea is to destroy their weaponry in a certain mile radius and then take over as their dictator for the time being until things could get set up. In a really complicated matter, Theresa sets up a plan wherein ten-miles around Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea, all weapons, planes, bombs, missiles, and helicopters will be destroyed. She works with the South Korean government in order to achieve this with HAL and so they can invade safely. 

But, duN DUN DUN! because all the weapons are destroyed, the government orders unarmed citizens and soldiers and other personnel to attack as soon as they see Theresa and the army. Because there’s 5 million of them, the South Korean army knows that they’ll be easily overwhelmed. Theresa’s solution? Take a Japanese island and move it a bit closer to North and South Korea, and then break North and South Korea away from China and move it closer to the Japanese Island. This way the Japanese Island can build a bridge over and then teach North Korea about a new government. And it fucking works. 

They invade Pyongyang after doing this and the South Korean army basically liters the city with pictures of Theresa’s face and a promise that she’s going to save and liberate them all. They drop all these pictures and promises with an airplane to hopefully quell the people’s worries. There’s a big crowd of North Koreans who are basically lining a gigantic boulevard and the South Korean’s are surrounding the tanks and Theresa, prepared to shoot anyone who gets rowdy or gets too close. Theresa tells them their leaders have left them on a complete fucking bluff, and the South Korean general who has been working with her confirms that they fled to China. Theresa is so relieved by this she almost starts crying, and then the North Korean’s start cheering and wailing and are basically so so so so so happy that Theresa is their new leader. 

And Theresa’s big speech as the new leader? She reads the first couple of paragraphs from the Declaration of Independence. And it’s a smash hit and her greatest success ever. She gives it to a translator so that the North Korean people can understand and just… “Nobody could translate such elegant language on the fly and maintain its beauty. I anticipated that. I’d given the translator the English text the day before and she worked all night at it. When I finished speaking she read what I’d said in Korean with all the emotions and nuances only a Korea could express. My speech or rather the translator’s rendition of it was a spectacular success. The crowd cheered their hearts out. Witnesses said President Stinson cried when I gave the speech. This event, broadcast to the whole world, was called by greatest achievement” (pg 418). And yes, I meant to write ‘a Korea’. That’s how it’s written in the fucking book. But the Declaration of Independence wasn’t written by Theresa and yet somehow it’s ‘her’ speech. And it’s a smashing success because fuck you. Chapter 26

Theresa sets up the South Korean government in North Korea because she can’t be fucked to actually lead it, but comes back when she needs to. In this chapter, Theresa gets really into biology and teaching HAL about biology. She also gets really into archaeology and discovers a bunch of really old Jewish scrolls but nobody can have them. They can look but only she can have them. She also finds Joan of the Arc’s remains because why the fuck not. 

Theresa also makes a mountain in the middle of Lake Michigan without consequence. This is all so they can have the Winter Olympics because I guess Mountain = Snow despite the fact that it’s summer the entire year.

Oh yeah, and Theresa recognizes that she could have thousands of lives with teaching HAL biology and learning how to do surgeries that could save lives that couldn’t otherwise be done. But she decides this is a terrible idea because she’ll end up in court if something goes wrong. 

“‘I can immobilize them like this [basically just holding their body together in a temporarily immortalized, unaging, undying stated] while the surgeon operates and saves thousands of lives.’ (Theresa) “‘And get yourself thousands of lawsuits when things go wrong. Hell the families will hope something goes wrong so they can go after your money’ (Steve) “‘You’re right. I’d spend the rest of my life in courtrooms. It’s a shame. Greed keeps me from saving lives’”  (pg 423).

The only greed keeping you from saving lives is your own. How fucking selfish of you to believe that people want their loved ones to die just so they can get some money. There are horrible people out there in the world like that, there’s no denying it, but the majority of people aren’t. You recognize you could save lives, but you chose not to because you don’t want to go to court if something goes wrong. You’re a fucking villain, Theresa. 

Because of this, I really don’t feel bad when Theresa gets hit by a car, breaks her back, and loses the ability to walk. Getting hit by the car was apparently a terrorist attack that was carefully planned because they wanted to hit Theresa. Because everything just has to be a fucking terrorist attack. But this is why Norman had Theresa suddenly pick up an interest in biology that was never ever even hinted at before. It’s so Theresa can start working on a plan to fix her back so she can walk again. And so she can figure out a way to be immortal. You’re supposed to feel bad for Theresa, but I honestly don’t.

Chapter 27 

More HAL’s show up because when Theresa was about to be blown up and she jumped from the plane, HAL divided itself into 420 other HAL’s. Now all these HAL’s are merging with people. Because Theresa doesn’t want to not be special anymore, she puts the entire world into a deep sleep under the pretense that all of these people could be another Adolf Hitler and she needs to take care of it and stop that before it happens. You know, so the logical explanation, because she can’t just put on HAL into a deep sleep, is to put the entire world into a deep sleep regardless of the consequences. Doesn’t matter if you’re in the middle of surgery or you’re in the ICU. It doesn’t matter if you’re about to die or something is happening. We’re just going to put everyone into a deep sleep because Theresa can’t be fucked to figure out a solution right now.

Chapter 28

600 years have passed and everyone starts to wake up. Everyone thinks Theresa is dead but she shows up with Steve and 420 (nice) children. All these children are geniuses and specialize in something and have the equivalent of like 10 college degrees. So in the past 600 years (where nobody aged, not even Theresa and Steve) the world has advanced massively because of the children and Steve and Theresa. 

Theresa also kept the children as 10-year-olds rather than letting them age. “I’d kept them in a pre-puberty state so they wouldn’t fool around with each other” (pg 464). It’s not like they’re siblings and look like mini replicas of you and your husband. It’s not like you should discourage incest among them because incest isn’t a good thing and can mess with someone’s psyche because it’s damaging a familial relationship by intertwining it with a sexual relationship. Not at all.

But these children, as it would turn out, don’t have a HAL. Theresa and Steve just had like 420 (nice) children I guess. No, Theresa just absorbed all of the other HAL’s and will absorb any other HAL that shows up on earth. And that’s the end of the fucking book. This shit show of a book is finally over. I hated it so much and I’m glad to finally be done with it. 

-8/10 stars. Get fucked Norman Boutin. Your book is stupid as shit and I hate it. 

[serenzippity]

I want to request a minhyuk (mx) smut where you make a deal and if he wins a challenge u would sleep w him (their toast game from idol room and minhyuk’a smug face when he bit that toast gave me the idea) Thank you hun 💕

Hey love, so this kind of took a different turn. I’m not a huge fan of the “losing the bet = sleep with him” idea because I feel like it takes away a portion of consent. However, I tried to make it semi-smutty in the end.

Warning: slight angst if you squint and smutty

Gif is mine.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon.”

“Minhyuk no.”

“Minhyuk yes.”

“I’ll hit you.”

“No you— Ow!”

Despite whacking him upside the head, his cheeky smile never left his lips. The controller in his hand was vibrating with victory as the screen flashed colors that made your stomach do turns. Normally it flashed with your name but somehow— probably due to the haze of alcohol and Minhyuk’s mere intoxicating presence— it flashed with his name.

The bet was simple: win or lose. If you won, Minhyuk would do your laundry for two months, starch and all. If Minhyuk won you would do him one favor of his choice. He argued that he didn’t know what he would want you to do at the time, but now that he won there was an inherent sense of dread. He was your best friend and you knew him better than most. That familiar knowledge of him made you fear for your future sanity.

“Hit me all you want, I am still the winner,” he said with a smug smile, stretching across the couch like the cat who got the canary. “Which means you owe me a favor.” He draped his legs over your lap, toeing at your stomach.

Usually, your heart would be fluttering at the close proximity to your best friend, but this time around it felt like it would jackhammer out of your chest. “W-what,” you stammered, trying to clear your throat and compose yourself, “What do you want me to do?”

“Don’t worry,” he giggled, poking your stomach more. “It won’t be bad. I haven’t even fully decided what I want yet.” His smile was blinding, the kind that lit up his entire face in an effervescent light. Beautiful was the only way to describe said smile.

“I’m still terrified Min.” Your voice came out as a tense droll but he didn’t say anything, the smile was too tightly screwed on.

He just hit start and resumed the game, ignoring your reservations. The Super Smash Bros rolled on in the background with both of you getting back into the swing of things. However, you were still slightly off your game as the bet loomed over your head. He absolutely slaughtered you in a game that used to be your forte. Round after round he kept completely destroying all your self-confidence in your gaming skills. Granted, he was very good at video games but you usually put up a much better fight.

“C’mon babe! Make it a challenge at least!” The nickname had your thumb slipping off the joystick, completely ruining your game and sending your character flying off the edge and into its imminent death.

You just stared blankly at the controller in disbelief. It was as if your mind and body were completely at a disconnect. All you could think about was Minhyuk, his intoxicating presence, and the favor you knew you’d eventually owe him. Your head was spinning and nothing fully computed, but you somehow found yourself fleeing the living room and rushing into your bedroom. You felt too stifled, almost suffocating on the air for a reason that you couldn’t fully comprehend.

Minhyuk was your best friend and you loved him more than any other person in the world, so why was your heart speeding at hundreds of miles per minute at the simple idea of him asking you for a favor? It was as if he told you said favor was to commit capital murder. Every nerve and synapsis was firing off at very thought of owing him, especially after you recently came to terms with your feelings for him.

But you made the bet, and you didn’t think you could go back on it.

“Hey,” Minhyuk murmured, knocking on your door and standing in the threshold. He looked concerned, eyes scanning over you with thinly veiled worry. He moved quickly, racing over and taking your face in his hands. The warmth of his hands began to calm you until you realized how close he was standing. The nearness kickstarted your heart again and the room spun. However, Minhyuk was the only thing you could focus on through the vortex. “You’re shaking,” he said, and you didn’t even realize you were until he pointed it out.

“M-Min, what is the favor you want?” Your voice was a mere whisper but in the space, between you, it echoed.

The worry on his face began to melt away into one of his dazzling smiles. One hand stayed on your cheek while the other came to cradle your neck, his thumb resting on your jaw and forcing you to stare directly at his face. “Is that what you are worried about?”

“I’m serious Min,” you could feel the anger at his indifference bubble up, but you also knew that you were being irrational. You were scared and there was no complete reasoning as to why.

He laughed and his forehead came down to touch yours. The intimate gesture sent you soaring into the highest clouds, but you were still bracing yourself for a painful impact. “I just wanted to ask you something simple.” His thumb stroked your cheek as you began to feel a slight tinge of reassurance spread through your veins.

“And?” He only smiled at your question, continuing to lightly touch you but becoming invading all at once. Beaming, he leaned back to look down at you and you felt a rush of love hit you at his beautiful face. You were in so deep, and his close proximity didn’t help.

“And I was only going to ask you on a date. That was my favor.” Your eyes got wide and your jaw practically dropped to the floor. He giggled before placing a short kiss on your forehead and holding you closer to his body “Will you do me the favor of going on a date with me?”

He looked at you expectantly, hope shining in his eyes. You stared at him for a few minutes that felt like hours. They ticked by and every moment of silence drained that sparkle from his eyes. He thought you’d eventually reject him but that wasn’t the case. You didn’t give him a direct answer. It was as if some strange out of body ghost or paranormal entity possessed you. Call it a demon or call it an alien, but you acted in a way that surprised both of you.  

You grabbed Minhyuk’s collar and pulled him down, kissing him passionately.

It didn’t take long for his surprise to wear off before he was kissing you back eagerly. Everything moved at light-speed as lips clashed and hands began to wander. He released your face in favor of picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your head was spinning and you could have cried at the heated contact, the totality of it finally hitting you. There was nothing in your mind that wasn’t focused solely on him. His touch, his kisses, his body heat, everything was honed in on your best friend and the love of your life.

He walked back and deposited you on your bed, eliciting a sharp gasp at the relatively rough drop. He attacked you again, his mouth coming to kiss and bite along the juncture of your neck. You mewled at the sensation, trying to pull him closer with locked legs and greedy hands. He ground his hips into yours, further heating up the tension between you.

It took him all of thirty seconds to rip your clothes off. With nothing but a bra and panties on you, Minhyuk leaned back to appraise you like a glimmering jewel. “You’re so beautiful,” he said as he pushed the cup of your bra down. Gentle thumbs and fingertips caressed your breasts and sent chills up and down your spine.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” His voice was a breathless whisper. Blown out pupils and flushed skin made him look ethereal. The image of him hovering over you with love and lust swirling in his eyes would be permanently seared in your mind. It made you giddy with anticipation and you felt like you were floating through a dream.

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, pulling him down into another searing kiss and pushing you further into the best night of your life.

[smashy-headcanons]

Weekly reminder of the blog rules, FAQ, and character alt stuff for mobile users.

Blog Rules

No NSFW content allowed. Not everyone is comfortable with NSFW content. I’m not super comfortable with it either, aside from the occasional light joke. Please keep it off the blog.

No politics allowed. Politics stress me out. I made this blog with the hopes that people exhausted from being bombarded with politics every minute won’t have to deal with it here. If you bring politics onto my blog I will knife you. And no, that does not mean I “don’t care” about certain issues. What it means is that I want this to be separate from the blog. And as a side note, no mentions of Tr*mp on this blog are allowed. I ended up deleting a submission because of it.

Headcanons go in the submissions. Non-headcanon content goes in the asks. Unless you’re sending an image or video to me, send it as an ask if it’s not a headcanon or quote. If it is a headcanon, please PLEASE send it as a submission and not an ask. It’s so much easier to post a submission than an ask because when headcanons are sent as asks I feel obligated to respond to it in some way and it almost feels repetitive when I’m saying one of the same three phrases repeatedly. The one exception I will allow is if you’re specifically asking for feedback regarding said headcanon. If you want to submit a headcanon but are worried about being anonymous, tell me in your submission that you want to be listed as anonymous and I will say it was submitted by anonymous.

When sending a submission, write it as best you can. Do your best to make sure there are no typos, and USE PROPER CAPITALIZATION. PLEASE. This isn’t as necessary with asks since I’m not going to be able to edit your own ask, but at the very least make it readable. I understand not everyone speaks English as their first language. I also understand that many people who are learning English as a second/third/etc. language may speak broken English. This is not what I’m talking about. What I’m talking about is when a submission is sent in which none of the names are capitalized or the submission is littered with typos. Most browsers/computers have spell checkers installed. If you struggle with spelling, you can use that. I’m not asking you to write your submissions like a formal essay. I just ask that you try to keep your posts as close to posting quality as possible. The reason this is an issue for me is because I try to make sure the posts on this blog are high quality, and when I have to go through and fix every capitalization error it makes posting submissions/asks even slower than usual for me.

If you’re sending an incorrect quote, include the source. If there is no source, say there’s no source.

Keep the discourse to a minimum! Please! Discourse stresses me out. There’s way too much of it on this site. Let me have ONE (1) part of this website where discourse is no issue.

LGBTQ+ gatekeepers (ace exclusionists/homophobes/biphobes/etc.) are not allowed. Asexuals are LGBTQ+. Trans people are LGBTQ+. Bi/pan people are LGBTQ+. If you try to imply that a particular LGBTQ+ identity isn’t LGBTQ+ then you will be blocked. Simple as that.

Racism, sexism, ableism, etc. of any variety is not allowed.

If asks and submissions are closed, that means that they are closed. I know I’m not the quickest at answering asks and submissions, but please wait. You can ask to make sure there isn’t some bug or error, but please don’t just DM a headcanon at random if the asks and submissions are closed. I won’t post it until it’s posted in my inbox. If you need to write it down to remember it, do so.

If I accidentally post anything that goes against these rules (aside from the headcanons in the asks thing, that I can deal with for now), tell me and I will delete the post (or fix it, if the change is minor). I will admit that I can be on the naive side. I may post something on accident that goes against what I want to have on this blog. If it breaks the rules, tell me so I can delete it.

Only add tags that apply directly to your submission. Don’t go through and blindly click every tag. Tag headcanons with the “smashy headcanons” and “headcanon” tags. Tag incorrect quotes with the “smashy quotes” and “incorrect quote” tags. And, if you are the person who came up with the quote and it didn’t originally come from somewhere else, THEN you can use the “source: original” tag; if it did come from somewhere else, please refer to rule 5 and INCLUDE THE SOURCE SO I CAN PUT IT IN THE TAGS! If there is an image in your submission, add the “image” tag. If there’s a video, add the “video” tag. Use common sense when tagging your submissions and tag them like you would add tags to your own posts (i.e. not adding a bunch of unnecessary things that don’t apply).

FAQ

Q: Is NSFW content allowed? A: No, this blog is strictly SFW. Any NSFW submissions will not be posted, and NSFW asks will not be answered.

Q: What do you mean by “TP” Link? Who is Raichu? A: There is a separate page on this blog explaining this topic in detail. I recommend looking at it if you’re new.

Q: Is there a smashy-headcanons Discord server? Will you make one? A: There is not one and there are no plans to make one. Assume that the answer is no unless I specifically say otherwise. Also, please don’t make one yourself. If there’s going to be a discord for the blog, I want to be the one to make it.

Q: Can we request headcanons for a particular character? A: Sure, go ahead. It might take a while and I usually only do about 1-5 per ask, but I will try.

Q: I’m seeing other people’s submissions on the blog, but there’s no submission link. Is something broken? A: If that’s the case, then check between Thursday 10am CST and Friday 10am CST. If they’re not open by then, then I probably turned them off because I had a lot of stuff in my inbox. Don’t send submissions as a private message; I turned them off for a reason.

Q: Are we allowed to ask questions that aren’t headcanon-related? A: Absolutely! It can be Smash-related or it can just be something random. It doesn’t even necessarily have to be a question.

Q: Can we request headcanons for a particular pairing? A: To a limited extent, I will give you ship-related headcanons. I won’t guarantee that I’ll answer yours, since I try to keep ship-related headcanons somewhat limited. That doesn’t mean you can’t tell me about your ship or ask about it. It’s just with headcanons that I try to keep them limited.

Links, Pikachu Line, Dr. Mario, and the Pokemon Trainers

You may notice I use different tags for the different Link/Zelda/Ganondorf incarnations, and that I refer to not only Pichu and Pikachu, but Raichu as well. I’m gonna go in detail on my explanation on the different terminology I use, but there’ll be a simplified reference afterward.

Links:

Young Link (MM Link) and Toon Link (WW Link), who have their own titles in Smash, are tagged as “young link” and “toon link” respectively, since that is what they are called in Smash Bros. With some Links, I add the abbreviation for the game the incarnation is from, as is the case with Breath of the Wild Link, Ocarina of Time Link, and (sometimes) Twilight Princess Link, whom I tag with “botw link”, “oot” link", and “tp link” respectively. Prior to Smash Bros. Ultimate, I used to refer to TP Link as just “Link”, so if you see a post mentioning/tagging just Link, know that the post is referring to TP Link. From now on, whichever incarnation of Link is being referred to will be explicitly stated.

I won’t worry much about specifying Zelda or Ganondorf’s incarnation, so just assume it’s either all incarnations or the most recently used one, unless the post specifies otherwise. In the case that I have to specify which one is being discussed, I will use the same shortening of the game titles as I do with Link (e.g. TP Zelda or OoT Ganondorf), but since there is now Zelda from A Link Between Worlds, I will refer to her as ALBW Zelda.

Pikachu Line:

My headcanon is that the Pikachu from SSB64 and SSBM is different than the Pikachu from SSBB, SSB4, and SSBU. Furthermore, I headcanon that SSB64/SSBM Pikachu evolved into Raichu and is no longer participating in Smash Bros, and SSBB+ Pikachu is the Pichu from Super Smash Bros. Melee. The Pichu in SSBU is a different Pichu that’s new to Smash. There is also a female Pikachu that was introduced in SSBU, and I will be referring to her as Pikette (suggested by mushroomfusion245). Additionally, apparently Pikachu Libre is going to be in SSBU; she will be called Pikachu Libre and tagged as “pikachu l”. Additionally, the Spiky-eared Pichu is in Smash as Pichu’s alternate costume, so I will tag her as “spiky eared pichu”.

Mario and Dr. Mario

This is a relatively recent change, but Mario and Dr. Mario are considered two separate people on the blog, with the latter being the father of the former (and Luigi). They will be tagged separately as well.

Pokemon Trainer Stuff

Since SSBU was announced to have both Red and Leaf and their Pokemon, I realized I’d have to tag them individually, as well as their Pokemon. That way, we can come up with headcanons for all of them.

I’ll use the tags “red”, “ivysaur”, “charizard”, and “squirtle” for Red and his Pokemon. For Leaf and her Pokemon, I’ll use “leaf”, “l ivysaur”, “l charizard”, and “l squirtle” to distinguish. The only difference between the tags and the names I’ll use is for Leaf’s Pokemon, which I will specify is Leaf’s Pokemon. For example, while I would call Red’s Charizard just Charizard, I would call Leaf’s Charizard “Leaf’s Charizard”.

Long story short, SSBU made stuff a lot more complicated.

Now that we’ve gotten the reasoning out of the way, here’s a reference for all this:

Link in SSB64 and SSBM (the adult Link, anyways): OoT Link

Young Link: Young Link

Toon Link: Toon Link

Link in SSBB and SSB4: TP Link (but just Link in posts prior to E3 2018)

Link in SBBU: BotW Link

Zelda in SSBU: ALBW Zelda

Pichu in SSBM/Pikachu in SSBB onwards: Pikachu

Pichu in SSBU: Pichu

Pikachu in SSB64 and SSBM: Raichu (since I headcanon that it evolved after SSBM)

Female Pikachu in SSBU: Pikette (will be tagged as “f pikachu”)

Spiky-eared Pichu in SSBU: Spiky-eared Pichu (tagged as “spiky eared pichu”)

Pikachu Libre (first appeared in Pokemon ORAS, look it up): Pikachu Libre (will be tagged as “pikachu l”)

Mario: Mario

Dr. Mario: Dr. Mario (will be treated as Mario and Luigi’s father)

Red and his Pokemon (plus their genders for clarity): Red (male), Ivysaur (male), Charizard (female), Squirtle (male)

Leaf and her Pokemon: Leaf (female), Leaf’s Ivysaur (l ivysaur) (male), Leaf’s Charizard (l charizard) (male), Leaf’s Squirtle (l squirtle) (female)

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

A brief recounting of the events of Elder Scrolls Legends, and of the Forgotten Heroes that saved the Empire when no one else could.

The Argonian, The Myth, The Legend...

SWIMS-AT-NIGHT!

SMUGGLER, WAR HERO... AND THE MOST LOYAL OF FRIENDS.

Self-Proclaimed "Greatest Smuggler in Tamriel," Swims-At-Night was just a simple smuggler during the Great War, stealing his cargoes from the Thalmor controlled Cyrodill, traversing the treacherous seas to later sell it off to either the resistance in Hammerfell or the Thalmor themselves, to them at 5 times the original value and at half the quality, not really out of any patriotic duty as much as for the cold and shiny siren call of gold. A daring, dangerous life, that made him make contacts with all sorts of people, that however ill fitted his true calling.

For you see, for while he was indeed without equal in his smuggling and his ability with poisoned blades was without match... Swims-At-Night was a lore nerd at heart. Especially if he could turn a tidy profit from said lore nerding.

But let's keep things in order.

Everything in Swims-At-Night's life changed one fateful night, during that same Great War he was profiting from... When he met two figures.

One, was Tyr.

This Beefcake of a Nord was one of the few remaining blades, captured by the second in command of the Thalmor Warlord and Daedric Follower Lord Narafiin, and left to Rot and fight for his life in one of his dungeons/daedric lair/underground arenas, only to one day escape with the help of another... mysterious figure.

THE FORGOTTEN HERO! WAR CRIMINAL! BACKSTABBER! MASTER OF DISGUISE! GENERALLY GREEDY ASSHOLE! THE WORST OF FRIENDS! DID I MENTION BACKSTABBER, LIKE, SERIOUSLY, THIS FUCKER BACKSTABS A LOT.

Basically TESL Robbie Rotten. At least he hates Nazi elves tho.

Anyway, back to that one faithful night. Tyr and the Forgotten Hero, from here on TFH, had recently escaped their captivity, and were searching for a lift to reach Skyrim, so to warn the emperor, who had retreated there after the fall of the imperial city, of Narafiin’s Daedric Dealings, and also so they could scoop up a friend of Tyr along the way, so that she could shine a Light upon this mess.

So, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a Port patrolled by Thalmor Justiciars searching for both them and the Argonian’s stolen Cargo, Tyr and TFH decide to steal Swims-At-Night’s boat...

RIGHT. FROM. UNDER. HIS. GILLS.

Needless to say, it was friendship at first sight.

After discovering the 2 vagrants trying to steal his shit and a quick sword fight with the Forgotten Hero, the Trio is found by one of the aforementioned Thalmor Patrols, and therefore, seeing how they too were being hunted down by the Nazi Elves, he goes “what the hell, the enemy of my nazi enemy is my new best friend, let’s go guys, this trip is on me!”, scoops them up on his ship, and departs from the port toward northern shores.

They later shipwreck. Because dude might be the “Greatest Smuggler in Tamriel,” but I challenge you to steer a ship during one perfect storm with one bloodthirsty Breton pirate ship trying their best to board them and sink his ship at the same time. Not even (spoilers) Sails-Trough-Storms herself could do it, I say.

Anyway, they shipwreck, have some zany adventures in High Rock with some mudcrabs and some spriggans, find a wolf cub TFH might or might have not abandoned to his fate rather than take in and nurture as his new pet LIKE THE ASSHOLE HE IS, and finally, in the middle of a ancient ruin, surrounded by angry goblins who had just come in and killed the cultists that were trying to kill her...

She appears, in all her majestic might...

LAANETH! MISTRESS OF MAGIC! SCHOLAR AND RESEARCHER AMONG THE MOST PRESTIGIOUS COLLEGES AND MAGES GUILDS IN ALL OF TAMRIEL, AND EXPERT IN DAEDRIC ARTIFACTS AND LORE!

Anyway, they save Laaneth from a Goblin assault straight out of Goblin Slayer, and she informs them that her latest research was around a semi obscure prophecy called The Culling (II), a cautionary tale about how people shouldn’t standardize and destroy their Battle Royal Games for greed and get rich schemes, and about how, during a particular cosmological event, the veil between worlds will be weakened, and will be easily breached by anyone committing a sacrifice big enough (Like, for example, the entirety of the Imperial City Population) to reawaken the now forgotten Oblivion Gates, so that the maws of Oblivion will be able to be opened one last time, to unleash hell upon Nirn, so to hasten the deterioration of reality and the breaking of the world, thus destroying creation and possibly but most definitely not allowing the Thalmor to ascend to godhood in the ensuing chaos.

You know, standard Nazi Elves plans.

This is even more concerning of Lord Naarafiin simply having Dremoras and other Daedras in his armies, especially after it is revealed that some major entity, perhaps even a Prince, must be edging their bets on this thing happening, so they decide to quickly reach the Emperor’s Camp all together to give him the grave news, and see what to do next.

(If i may take a moment, I would like to point out how Swims-At-Night, his ship destroyed and his cargo now in the seas, without a single prospect of coin in sight, is still there, ready to fight and die for his newfound companions and freedom, because he might be a scoundrel and a Smuggler, but he is a Honest Smuggler goddammit, mass genocide and daedric outbreaks are a big no no for him.

He also probably already knitted some new best friends sweaters already for him and his bros and is already probably preparing one for his new nerd elven friend, and probably didn’t want them to go to waste, so there’s that).

Anyway, our heroes got to Skyrim. Some more shenanigans ensue, a bar fight, some imperial deserters, a High Elf Merchant that was trapped by giant spider and had NOTHING TO DO WITH THE THALMOR TFH might have just been plain old racist too and left for dead rather than help, the ghost of another merchant asking for revenge against some other, human bandits that killed him and his family for their gold, and all that...

Anyway, they reach the Emperor’s Camp, where we meet the last members of this ragtag bunch of misfits...

GENERAL CASSIA! SECOND IN COMMAND DURING THE GREAT WAR UNDER EMPEROR TITUS MEDE II, AND MOSTLY THE ONE WHO HAD TO DO THE DIRTY WORK FOR HIM IN THE FORM OF DISCIPLINING DESERTERS AND ALL THAT NASTY SHIT.

Anyway, a plan is formed. Our Heroes must return to the Imperial City, disguised as Gladiators, and will use a secret passage near the Arena, the SAME passage the Hero of Kvatch used all those many years before to escape the imperial prison, courtesy of Swims-At-Night, the History Nerd him, to reach into White Gold Tower, and steal the greatest treasure of all.

THE ORB OF VAERMINA!

For you see, Lord Naarafiin indeed had the help of Daedric Princes, ready to spring up at the occasion of the walls of reality getting thinner, and Vaermina was among them. The Warlord was using the Orb to spy on the Imperial Troops movements and plans, easily outwitting them and laying waste along the country, committing one atrocity after the next, reading the field play for the final sacrifice, and our heroes needed to get the sphere away from him, so to better prepare a effective attack plan against the city before it was too late.

So, our heroes reach the Imperial Capital, passing as gladiators, and go into the secret passage, now swarming with perilous undead after many years from the 3rd era...

And with a mysterious altar, appeared out of nowhere, whose burning light, as bright as dawn breaking upon the fields, shone against the undead hordes, aiding our heroes in their time of need as it scorched them to a crisp.

For it seemed, not all Princes were in favor of Naraafiin’s plan of destroying the world.

Or maybe Meridia just wanted to scorch some Mummies, who knows with her.

Anyway, our heroes reach the highest floor of the Tower, where the Orb is left unprotected...

And where they are promptly ambushed by Naarafiin second in comand!

REIVE! THE BLADE MASTER! THE PAIN-SINGER! THE LORD OF THE ARENA!

He was him who had captured Tyr and TFH back at the start, and with a swift move, he has now taken Tyr Hostage, the gleaming point of his blade ready to slash the man’s manly and muscled chest at a wrong move.

BUT THAT’S NO ORDINARY BLADE I SAY!

(Yeah, only found this image for the card art, sorry)

THAT’S GOLDBRAND! THE SWORD OF BOETHIA, DAEDRIC PRINCE OF PLOTS! FATHER OF MYSTERIES! MOTHER OF SHADOWS! AND A BUNCH OF OTHER VARIOUS TITLES WITH OTHER VARIOUS GENDERS! AND THE REAL DAEDRIC PRINCE BEHIND THIS MESS!

For what better plot, than to plot to destroy the world, after all?

TFH has however been also fast, and has already nicked the Orb for himself, the kleptomaniac little shit. He is now presented with a choice. Keep the Orb, and watch his friend and companion die... or Give Reive the Orb, and get his friend back... “unscathed.”

And TFH, the absolute bastard and backstabber... chooses to keep the Orb.

(I mean, yes, technically, you can decide to spare Tyr... Except dude still dies during the ensuring fight as he shows his massive balls of nordic steel and SMASHES A DAEDRIC ARTIFACT TO PIECES RIGHT IN FRONT OF A ANGRY HIGHER DREMORA, and it is canon that TFH used the orb at least 10 times in his life if we go by Achievements, which he couldn't really do if he let Tyr smash it, soooo...)

Anyway, Tyr dies, Reive is Angry (And so are Laaneth and partially Cassia, like, dude was Laaneth’s friend more than he was anyone else, they had HISTORY, she is understandably angry with TFH, and he was working in close quarters with Cassia due to their ranks in the imperial army and shit...), and a battle ensues. TFH manages to overpower Reive and kill him, thus gaining the favor of Goldbrand and perhaps Boethia’s Themselves given their great betrayal and show of strength, since that’s how Boethia Rolls...

Anyway, They daringly escape the Imperial City, everyone a bit more somber after the whole ordeal, even despite the victory, and reach the Emperor’s camp nearby, reading for the next day siege, right in time for the Culling... BUT OH NOES! A Thalmor assassination deep cover team (which is composed entirely by Bosmer for some reasons... what, are Kahjiits not stealthy enough for your deep cover assassinations?) has attacked the Emperor in the night!

The assassins have been repelled, and Titus Mede II is safe, but the Emperor is now no longer fit to ride the next day. This will surely be a deep blow to the morale of the army, even now that has been bolstered by new and fresh recruits from Skyrim, and Cassia isn’t sure anymore they are going to pull it through...

And it’s here, that our “hero” truly unleashes his inner Robbie Rotten, as a dastardly plan is formed, I’m 99% sure after Swims-At-Night’s Counsel.

The emperor will remain in his tent, in the middle of the camp, unseen and unheard as he rests, as TFH wears his armor, and rides into battle on the front lines with his army, disguised as the emperor, keeping the Morale High as he valiantly fights of the Nazi Elven Scum, his Golden Blade in one hand, his mystical sphere of dreams in the other, as he conquers more and more ground, his friends leading 3 other different fronts in a 4 way attack on the imperial city, crashing trough to stop the massacre from happening...

And yet.

It’s too late.

Naaraafiin has already killed the entire population of the Imperial City, and the Gates of Oblivion are opened. He meets what he thinks is the emperor, his personal guard at his side, as all manners of Atronachs and Dremora are unleashed upon the city, and soon the world, as the Oblivion Gates open once more and the walls of reality are weakened.

TFH has to think fast, and so, attacks the Warlord, who easily counters TFH with his magic, now overpowered by the think layers between realms and his own, general overpowered Final Boss Magic, blasting shit left and right at a frankly insanely low magicka cost...

And yet, perhaps, this overpowered magic will be Naaraafiin’s Downfall, for the Orb of Vaermina cannot just enter the dreams of your enemies to spy on their plans, but can steal mirages of powers and creatures from your opponent mind, and use them against them.

And so, witnessing his prowess with the sword, and finally recognizing Goldbrand as Goldbrand, and the “Emperor” as the one who had killed Reive, as he steals one of his massive blast right from under Naarafiin’s mind, and uses it against its own master...

Naaraafiin falls. Pushed by his own arcane magick, perhaps still alive, perhaps not, inside one of the holes in reality his culling had created, the link between him and the fracture of reality severing, as the Dremoras and Daedras vanish into Oblivion, and the gates close.

The battle is won. The Imperial City is taken back, if destroyed and with little to no population left.

And the Thalmor are retreating.

TFH and his friend go back to the emperor, who congratulates with them about the victory, for the man really knows when the delegate, and gifts TFH his armor, as the 4 companions depart, each for their own road, perhaps to never meet again...

And so the story ends, with a empire saved from the brink of destruction, yet irreparably damaged, a friendship betrayed, and terrible memories people will never forget.

But when the story ends...

Another begins.

For to paraphrase Marvel:

SWIMS-AT-NIGHT WILL RETURN...

In Elder Scrolls Legends III: Return to Clockwork City!

(Tho there’s the Fall of the Dark Brotherhood first, probably going to do that first, gotta show you just how much of a Asshole TFH can be).

[ziggory]

Riverdale Liveblog 3x14, “Fire Walk With Me”

I have to let it be known that I love the absolute shit out of Fire Walk With Me so this episode is already a disappointment because I know it’s not going to touch those heights. Like unless some David Bowie impersonator phases through the walls of Pop’s Diner while all the teens are caught in the throw of a Fizzle Rocks inflicted drug haze while Angelo Badalamenti’s score pumps through the neon haze...FUCKING KEEP IT

My motto as of late is for Veronica to just kill her parents. Morality is a construct on this show. I’m sure the judge will look the other way

How many plot relevant lines have they crammed into the Previously On segment

WHY ARE YOU HURTING ME WITH THIS REMINDER OF JOAQUIN’S DEATH

This weird confirmation that after Kevin got kidnapped into the woods, and his second boyfriend LEFT TOWN AGAIN, that none of his friends or his dad checked up on him just feeds my angsty little hole of a brain. But also can they put a new record on because I’m tired of this song

So Kevin’s not involved in the LGBTQIA group huh. Fun. 

The sound people have also given up on this show

WEATHERBEE IS MY FAVORITE INCOMPETENT ADMINISTRATOR

AMERICAN. EXCESS. is the closest the show will ever get to criticizing capitalism

What’s so secret about the most popular night hangout in town

I need to see more of Toni in this outfit because it’s everything to the point that I have to laugh at Cheryl fishing for compliments

Maybe if one of you checked in on him he wouldn’t have felt the need to resort TO A FUCKING CULT. 

Okay, well someone just drank the whole pitcher *sighs*. I’ve lowkey wondered if a variation of this conversations would ever happen post-cruising in S2, but this isn’t my ideal of this conversation. Also, Kevin’s unfortunate undercut is very strong in this scene

If Jughead was a Smash character, the finger pointing would be his special attack

Honestly, I drew shit like that in high school, and all my classmates thought I’d become a future serial bomber, but instead I ended up being an average citizen of society!

KEVIN, WHAT THE FUCK!/1//!?! SOMEONE YANK THESE KIDS OUT OF THIS FUCKING FARM. I’m crying

Lmao, I’ve been wondering who this sketch artist would be playing, and THIS is what he was for??

Veronica, you were fucking advocating this for-profit prison idea LAST FUCKING EPISODE. YOU ARE ALSO THE SHADY ONE

The last time Josie and Betty interacted was 2x02. It’s been a whole ass fucking seasonal gap

YES AT THIS RECOGNITION OF HIS EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY. And I will take these fucking scraps of McKeller sibling stuff. WHEN DID SIERRA AND JOSIE MOVE INTO THE KELLER HOUSE!?!??! FUCK YOU, SHOW

BROTHER KEVIN REMINDS ME OF WHEN ONTD SAID CASEY LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE FROM MORMON BOYZ (FYI, if you look up “Mormon” in the gif search you WILL get a porn gif) (ANOTHER FYI, Andrew Rannells was the voice of Archie in Archie’s Weird Mysteries which is a better show than Riverdale)

Honestly walking on coals isn’t that wild. But then again, it’s usually not a teenager leading other teenagers to do it. And another honestly is that Kevin is looking good while doing it! Cult victim but make it fashion, tbh

Betty, you should record shit and then just post it on social media like the average teen does. This is what Worldstar is for. 

You know, I always wondered what it’d be like if Kevin found out about Betty mopping up buckets of blood and hiding bodies like he talking about Joaquin doing. But not like this. Just give me the whole fucking monkey at this point

The Serpents are just not a gang anymore. This is the opposite of what a gang is. Now you’re all tools of the government!!!

JOAQUIN’S BB BRO!?!?! Awwww, this brings me back to stories about Joaquin having an OC older brother. I even think one was named Ricky

Well now I”m genuinely crying. This show doesn’t deserve my tears, and it never deserved Luke

Veronica kicking the adults out is probably the first scene of hers I’ve genuinely enjoyed in a long time outside of shipping scenes

Arsonist Betty isn’t as good as Arsonist Cheryl, but I’ll take it.

A literal firewalk was not what I had in mind, but I guess that’s all you can expect from these writers

[artikgato]

2018 Retrospective part 3

It’s that time of year again, where I look back on this crazy garbage fire of a year and see if I can do better next year. (I should point out that 2018 was marginally better than 2017, but then again 2017 didn’t exactly set a high bar)

This year I’m going to keep a count of the number of posts that are gone due to being flagged as “explicit” by the tumblr algorithm.

“Naughty Posts Sent to Tumblr Jail” Count: 10

Conventions So Far: 7

May:

I went to three conventions in May. Three. That seems like a lot, but just wait for July, friends, just wait for July...

Digimon Tri movie 6 came out and I was...let’s just say, not impressed.

The first con I went to was Zenkaicon, a little con up in Pennsylvania. It was my first time to Pennsylvania, so that was cool. The con was a fairly ordinary small con, not much to do, not much to see

The second convention was ACEN (Anime Central), my second visit to Chicago. This convention was definitely a lot of fun, met a lot of interesting folks of a lot of different fandoms! 

And finally, the third con of May was Animazement, for my fourteenth (!) year in a row. I ran the Fire Emblem and Persona shoots, and spent most of the rest of the weekend working as staff or catching up with the ten thousand people at that con that know me (because I’ve been going for fourteen years)

Persona 3/5 Dancing were released in Japan the same weekend as Animazement

Let’s Go Pikachu and Eevee were announced!

The designs from the beta version of Pokemon Gold and Silver were released (leaked?) leading to a ton of fanart and speculation

June:

I didn’t go to ANY conventions in June AT ALL (I also kind of starved? For most of the month? Just so I could pay my car taxes?? Capitalism is stupid and America is bullshit)

I launched my Patreon. Crazy to think I’ve been running it for six whole months now!

I guess I got a year older or something

The P4 discord got set up, too (also crazy: that’s been a thing for six months)

My precious daughter Nino finally got an alt in Fire Emblem Heroes (I still haven’t rolled her ;A;)

Persona 3/5 Dancing were FINALLY confirmed to be coming out in the West! ....eventually. Some time.

I added a new chapter to Practice Makes Perfect and made all this noise about updating once a month and...uh....haven’t....... (I’msosorry)

E3 happened and utterly destroyed me, specifically the “everyone is here” trailer for Smash Bros and the fact that they added Leaf as an alternate costume for the Pokemon Trainer 

I went to visit Roomie up in Banner Elk, NC where she was working for the summer theatre, and stayed overnight. Not only was I in the same house I lived in when I worked at Banner Elk four years earlier, I ended up in the same room, same bed and -- this was absolutely 100% unplanned and I didn’t realize until the next day -- I did this on the exact day I first played Persona 4, three years later.

I made my Souyo Itabag! It was so much more organized back then, lol

[thekrazykeke]

Title: Best I Ever Had

Fandom(s): Black Panther, MCU

Relationship(s): T’Challa x reader. T’Challa & Okoye. Reader x OC. Ayo & reader.

Request: Any time I read a story about Reader fucking up or not doing right by Tchalla she’s either evil or he just leaves her crying in the dust. I want a fic where she fucks up but apologizes, confesses how much she really loves him and is just scared, and HE. FORGIVES. AND LOVES. HER. And she shows him how much she loves him...wink wink. Basically what we do for Erik in these docs where he fuck up but we forgive him! Except Reader and his level of fucked up! Thank you!

Requester: Anonymous

Summary: I’m not afraid of commitment. I’m afraid of surrendering control too quickly, of putting my heart in hands that do not know how to hold it.

Warning(s): Angst, bad decisions, fluff

(Suffer with me) @adiafegan @wikiwakanda @melaninmarvel

Honestly, T’Challa is a cinnamon roll and if anyone’s unhappy in a relationship, just end it. I give that advice every time, you do more damage staying with somebody who you honestly don’t even like because you scared to be alone/lonely. That’s fucked up, so just let that person go, let them be with someone who can appreciate them. Anywho! I know it’s probably implied in the request about ‘Erik’s level of fucked up’ meaning she is supposed to be having an affair/cheating but I couldn’t go through with the whole thing because I’ma sucka. 

#CheatersNeverProsper

~

You had been born in a country that didn’t want you and fighting against a system designed to keep you at the bottom, scrambling for scraps. Being black in America meant that from jump street, you’re at a disadvantage. Even more so, you’re a black woman, and that comes with it’s own set of stereotypes and little boxes to be checked off so other minorities and Caucasians can feel justified in their treatment of you. 

Be too loud, then you hood. Talk too soft, then you shy, overlooked. Dress conservatively, you a square. Show some skin and you a ho. So what do you do with these mixed messages thrown in your face all the time? 

Not give a fuck!

Or at the very least, master the art of pretending to not give a fuck. 

Mama taught you to be independent and how to take care of yourself, pay your bills on time and be a lady. Daddy had a gambling addiction and while he could be sweet as gold, the pipe dream of hitting big and being a millionaire is too tempting for him to kick; you learned that some people are just lost causes.

The core lessons stuck. 

Throughout your life, you bumped your head, stumbled and got lost trying to find who you are as a person. You lost friends along the way, chasing your dreams. Romanticist to the core but you’d been played too many times to the point where you knew all the tricks; you ended up being the one calling the shots in relationships. 

No one had the power to hurt you anymore because you wouldn’t let them. 

One night them and move on, that’s the number one rule. 

Until T’Challa Udaku. 

He swept in your life and thrown everything out of wack. You was used to the hood niggas, fools who wanted you to spread your legs and close your mouth or the hoteps who were fake ‘woke’ and wanted you to be ‘all natural’ and worship them for breathing. Workplace hook ups were entirely too messy. Businessmen, lawyers, doctors, etc. were serious about their craft but they tended to prioritize work over relationships in your limited scope of experience. 

This man, though? 

He was...He is good. 

He treated you with respect, listened to and valued your opinion. Had no issue with spending money on you and wouldn’t complain about the price for anything, opened doors for you and treated you as if you were important, beautiful. T’Challa is one of those rare, one of a kind people and for some reason he wanted you. Can you imagine that? You, one of the many translators that the U.N. had employed but out of everyone there during the press conference where he made history by announcing on live television that Wakanda would be more involved in the world, and share it’s resources, after decades of isolationism, it’s you who caught the attention of a king?

Talk about surreal. 

Admittedly, you thought that T’Challa was just after some easy pussy. You wasn’t no ugly bitch, you’re confident enough to say that much, but you didn’t have time for other people’s foolishness, not even, maybe even especially, a king. Thus, you ignored the chemistry between y’all and tried to keep from lusting over his sexy, polite ass. 

It’s an exercise in failure. 

The first time you ended up in his bed, or to be specific, in a ritzy upscale hotel and he’s all up in ya guts, hitting your G-spot and making you see stars, the morning after, you blamed it on being drunk even though all you did was nurse a beer all night. You tried to sneak up outta there without causing a scene but the Dora Milaje caught you; Okoye didn’t think much of you but your presence seemed to amuse Ayo, her amusement growing when T’Challa joined y’all in the hallway and dismissed them. He wanted to see you again and you made up an excuse for why you couldn’t, or so you tried. It’s a little hard to stick to your guns when he’s french kissing you so sensually and skillfully, reminiscent of when his tongue had played wit yo punani...

Long story short, he’d gotten his way, much to your (delayed) irritation.

Again and again, y’all linked up and the dicking down that you got is always good. Your prerogative is to keep your distance and although you had tried, there’s just something about T’Challa that drew you in, made the walls around your heart trembled and shivered with the need, the want to come down and let him in, especially when he’s open with you. Somehow this had been going on for a month before he asked you if you would date him and despite your misgivings, despite the instinctive response to deflect and retreat, you told him yes. Yes, you told him even though you wouldn’t allow him to come to your house. Or meet any family members. Yes, you told him and while you liked him, truthfully, you’re sprung and in love, you still tried to remain a sense of separation, of independence because that’s all you knew and the rings of self-preservation crawled up your spine every day that you spent at his side and he proved to be a genuinely good man. 

Good men didn’t love like damaged women such as you.

The two of y’all had been together for just under four months now and it’s clear that he wants more. Hell, he deserves more, deserves better. And part of you wants to give in and trust that T’Challa will catch you, each time your mouth opens to throw caution to the wind, you become frozen and chicken out. Maybe it’s that type of vulnerability which Sebastian DeMarco, your ex, sensed and capitalized on, suggesting that y’all get drinks and catch up while he’s in town. Any other day, you’d have refused, cited work, going to church on Sunday, or any other random thing you could think up. 

No, not this time, this time, you said yes. And you didn’t tell T’Challa about it. You said that you were working late and that you’d see him tomorrow. He’d texted back an affirmative, the response a little more clipped than usual since y’all had gotten into an argument earlier. 

For the first time in awhile, you didn’t think about anything or anyone’s feelings, let alone your own. You got turnt the fuck up, bih! It was so much fun, so easy to get a rush of this type of energy. Sebastian had always been fun type, wild and carefree, why hadn’t you hung out with him again before now?

Turning to ask him, you blink when his lips are on yours. 

Just as you go to shove at his chest and demand what the fuck--

“Y/N.” 

Oh. No. 

Heart beginning to pound with anxiety, drunkenness starting to wear off, you turn to see that it’s T’Challa and another male, some resemblance to him, possibly his cousin that he sometimes talked about? 

“Ba--” You try to take a step toward him while the other guy immediately went after Sebastian (”Wassup, nigga!?” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, bro, I’m just tryna smash!”). 

“You told me that you were working late.” T’Challa stated, voice frighteningly blank. “You lied to me.”

“I just needed a night to myself.” The minute to those words leave your mouth, you know it’s a mistake. Hurt flashes across his face before his features become frighteningly blank. 

“Do not worry. You can have the rest of your nights to yourself, from here on out, Y/N Y/L/N.” He says in the coldest tone you’ve ever heard from him. “N’Jadaka!” Calling out sharply to the other, at the corner of your eye, you see that Sebastian’s face is a mess of bruises and bloody. “Let us go. We are done here.” 

“Nigga, is you forreal?! He kisses yo girl and you letting his punk ass walk away breathing?”

“T’Challa, please.” You try to plea, but he ignores you.

“Now, cousin.” As T’Challa turns to go, you reach out for his hand and he dodges your touch. “Do not---!” Biting back words, he shook his head, disappointed and disgusted.  

You stand there, trembling with suppressed emotions, watching as he got further and further away from you, his cousin chewing him out,  tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat. Leaving Sebastian groaning on the ground, you find a cafe and have the owner call you a cab. Once you arrive at home, you stand in your empty, lonely apartment. Hand going to your head, you walk past a mirror hanging on the wall, pausing as you catch sight of yourself. 

You look shell-shocked, dumbfounded. Like a woman who had the world in her hands but lost it because she was an idiot. A surge of anger flows through you and you yank the mirror off the wall, flinging it. 

Shards of glass decorating the wooden floor. 

Pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, you laugh and laugh and laugh. Until you cry. For the longest, you just stand there, shoulders shaking and breath seizing your throat as you tried to be silent in your misery. 

And things do not look brighter in the morning. In fact, things look absolutely shitty. Your head hurts because you’re hungover, you can’t talk because your voice is scratchy and you just look like a straight up mess because you fell asleep on the couch, without a bonnet or scarf or nothing. 

Wolf Woman is a thing now. 

If you had the power of time travel, you’d rewind back to two days ago, when you’re in another fancy hotel room, T’Challa tracing the words, ‘I love you’ into your skin while you were ‘asleep’. You cry in the shower because of that. You cry while making breakfast. 

You cry before you leave out for work.

Sebastian calls you while on break and you let it go straight to voicemail. Then delete his number and contact info that he’d snuck into your phone yesterday. God, was it really just yesterday when your whole world came crashing down? Fingers hovering over the buttons, you stare at the screen for a new text message, leg bouncing up and down with anxiety. What do you say, what could you say? Exhaling roughly, you send him the address to your apartment and turn off your cellphone, because you’re a coward. 

Even now you’re trying to protect yourself from more pain and rejection. 

If he doesn’t show up, he doesn’t show up. You’ll accept it. Leave his life and let him move on with someone else. That’s what a good person would do, right? Right, and you’re trying to be better. Throughout the day, you try to focus, but it’s pointless as your mind keeps going back to him and you know your boss is irritated by your behavior but you’re not called out on it, thankfully.

When you get home, it’s not T’Challa waiting for you, but Okoye and Ayo. 

You’re barely able to get a foot out of the car before the General of the Dora Milaje is on you and not in a sexy way, but in a threatening, I will end you type of manner. Her elbow is braced against your throat, applying pressure and she smacks the shit out of you more than once. Literally, you don’t think you have any taste left in your mouth or feeling in your face before Ayo pulls her off.

“Have you no shame?!” The fierce, bald woman demanded, her eyes wild, angry.

“General...General, stop.” 

“You think that because he is soft for you that you can treat our king in any manner--” Ayo blocks her before she can lunge at you again. “I should kill you!”

“I just want to see him.” You say, calm and even toned, heart racing with adrenaline. 

“And you think you have the right?!” Okoye presses a hand on Ayo’s shoulder, about to push her aside but Ayo isn’t budging. “I knew you were not right for him...I told him, I knew it!”

Before you can come up with something witty or smart-alecky to get another smack across the face, “That is not up to you.” 

Okoye ceases trying to murder you for the moment, “Kumkani...”

Ayo hesitantly let her go. 

“We will discuss this breach of trust and insubordination later.” T’Challa says calmly, as if he hadn’t just probably witnessed that embarrassing one sided fight. “Dismissed.” 

“Kumkani...” Disbelief coats Okoye’s voice and features. Ayo, however, merely crossed her arms in the Wakandan salute, marching away. “T’Challa, are you really going to just forgive...” Looking at you with disgust, she closes her mouth, curtly nodded before she also saluted and marched away.

Silence lingers between the two of you for several seconds. 

“Do you want to...come in? Talk, maybe.”

“I do not think that is the best idea.” T’Challa stated, clipped and short. “I should be going as well. I only followed them because I wanted to know what all the secrecy was about and now I have my answer. It does not interest me.”

“Please, T’Challa...” Hand on his wrist, you’re surprised that he allows this. But also, you’re elated because only a day without him and you think that you’re going crazy. You had spent so long with his arms around you, in constant contact, that now that you’re on you’re own, you’re constantly cold, bereft. “Please, just five minutes. Please.”

T’Challa half turned to face you, looking down at you with a blank expression, “I told you that I was done with you.” 

“You’re going to throw away me away for one kiss that I didn’t even initiate?” Again, you’re putting your foot in your mouth. “He kissed me. He kissed me, I didn’t want it.”

He scoffed. “Yet you let him kiss you all the same.”

“I was going to push him away. You came across us before I even got the chance--” His hand is on yours now, he’s trying to get you to let go. “I’m telling the truth, T’Challa, please. If you would just listen to me...”

“You had months to talk to me!” T’Challa shouted. Then when he realized you were staring at him with huge eyes, his normal soft tone returned, “You had months and you chose to just lead me on. Making a fool of me, Okoye was r--”

And you couldn’t stand this anymore. “I was scared, okay?!” Apparently today is the day for dramatic outbursts. “I was t-terrified....of the way...that you make me feel and I...” Vision going blurry with tears, they fell down your cheeks unchecked. “When I get scared, I try and push the problem away but I didn’t want to push you away. And I’m sorry I’m difficult and mean and I don’t always know how to talk about... about anything, but I love you. It’s scary because you see through me sometimes and I can’t...I can’t...” Hiccuping, you let go of his wrists to cover your face, trying to maintain some dignity. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’m sorry.” 

This is it, the end of the road, sis.

You had made your pitch and now that he’d seen you for the pathetic, waste of space that you are, just like you promised, you’d let him g--

T’Challa gently gripped each of your wrists, moving your hands out of the way. Embarrassment welled through you and in reaction, even more tears fell down your face. You want to stop crying but it’s so difficult and this isn’t cute or right, tears are not to be used like weapons against people that you loved, after all. “...Do you realize that this is most you have confided in me since we met?”

Guilt stabbed through you. “I’m sorry.” 

“Stop saying that.” He lets your wrists go and you let them drop to your sides. “...I was hurt by you kissing that man, yes. Or he kissed you, there is no real difference. But more than that, I was hurt that you lied to me about your whereabouts. I thought I needed time and space away from you, and while I am irritated by Okoye’s actions and interference in my personal matters, her concerns are well placed.”

Swiping at your eyes, you try to get ahold of yourself, “I know.” You bite your bottom lip to avoid apologizing again.

He lifts your chin, making you look at him. “Do you know? Do you understand how cruel you have been to me?” T’Challa doesn’t let you get a word in edgewise and keeps speaking, “We would probably both be better off and better people if we stop seeing each other.” You try and look away but again, he makes you keep eye contact. 

“But like the fool that I am, weak as you make me, I still love you.”

Then much to your astonishment, T’Challa is crying too. 

You probably look like two idiots, crying outside like that and making gossip for your neighbors, but you don’t care. For once, the facade of being a strong, take no shit type of woman is the last thing on your mind as you blubbered, apologizing over and over again. Eventually though, the two of y’all did migrate to your apartment. The reality that you could have lost him, and very much still could if you didn’t handle your shit like an actual functioning adult and communicate more, hit you full force in the face. 

“‘Challa.” Fingers massaging the pulse point of his left hand, you waited until he hummed, showing that he’s listening, “I love you.” Glancing up, you see that the umber skinned male is watching you. Maintaining eye contact, you guide his hand downdowndown, the fabric of your booty shorts the only obstacle, “I love you and I don’t want anyone else to t-t-to...touch me...” Voice stuttering towards the end as his fingers have disappeared underneath the shorts and his long middle finger dips into your puss til the knuckle, sinking in and out, in and out. Hips rising of their accord, wanting more of that touch, still, you tried to stay on script. With shaking, unsteady fingers, you got the zipper of his pants down. When he added another finger, brushing up against your G-spot teasingly, you went a bit cross eyed before you clenched your eyes shut.

T’Challa smacked you on the ass, hard, causing you to flinch and moan. “Do not stop. This is about me right now, not you, and if you cum on my fingers before I am inside you...”

Oh God, the thought of cumming on this man’s fingers. Pulling down his boxers, his dick came free, saluting you practically; your lips find the mushroom head, kissing the tip before swirling your tongue around, collecting pre. You heard him let out a quiet hiss, abdominal muscles tensing and flexing before he relaxed, and rewarded you by adding one more finger. Deciding to be a bit of a tease too, you massaged his balls gently, kissing along either side of his cock for a few seconds and just before he could warn you again, you took him in your mouth. His hand is on the nape of your neck and his hips rose, making you take more and more, relaxing your jaw, you let him use you, fuck your throat. 

By now, you’re practically soaking his hand and maybe even the couch. 

You could probably cum from this. 

As if sensing wayward train of thought, T’Challa removed his fingers and you let his dick fall out of his mouth without being told. 

“Come here.” There’s no way that you’d disobey. Half rising up, you straddle his waist, legs thrown over either side of him and you sloowly sink down on his cock. T’Challa’s hands are on your hips, fingers slightly bruising when you’re finally seated and he’s buried to the hilt. You have to pause for a second there because he’s not some small guy. It’s only when you’re squeezing his shoulder and wiggling in his lap does he start thrusting. The rhythm is slow and drawn out, he doesn’t rush to get off and he’s not going to let you off that easy either, you belatedly realize when you shuck off your shirt and his head dips to take a nipple in his mouth. 

T’Challa knows your body so well and he has the restraint to edge you over and over again, asking in a calm, almost unruffled tone, who you belong to, who is fucking you so good, and each time, you answer him, all but screaming himhimhim, you belonged to him. And just when you thought that you couldn’t take it anymore, he changed up the game again, delivering short, hard strokes to your G-spot, fucking you so good, so right and when you came all over his dick, screaming his name and probably disturbing your neighbors, but who cared cuz the dick was too bomb-- His spine stiffened and his hips stuttered as you clamped down around him, trying to suck him for every last drop of cum as he came inside you. Leaning heavily against T’Challa’s chest, you can feel his own heart thundered beneath your ear, “I love you.”

You heard him snort. 

Then his hand circled the nape of your neck, thumb caressing the skin. 

“I love you too.”

Not everything is magically fixed between the two of you, even with the best dick session to help things along, and the both of y’all knew that. But this was a start, y’all were going to work it out, then maybe, hopefully, be better in the future.

[heehoothefool]

Might as well add on something to this post

An example of how my traumatized characters end up being more adored than the others.

This post was made because at some ungodly hour of the morning I briefly thought about how funny it is to me that my characters who have the most trauma and problematic behaviors end up being the most loved. For my dear friends who have to suffer through the consequences of getting emotionally attached to any of my characters, I am not sorry, and I'm going to take this opportunity to info dump about one of our many very upsetti spaghetti children because this is my blog motherfuckers and I do what I want.

Ladies, bros, and nonbinary hoes, may I present to you:

Lyr Cygnus Shallowtear

This absolute FOOL of a very traumatized clown has somehow become a favorite amongst my fellow character creating colleagues to the point that they have collected a harem of possible romance options depending on the universe and who gets to them first.

Lyr Cygnus Shallowtear is a changeling who got separated from their parents at a young age and was taken in by a very kind royal family who happened to be checking out their capital city that day. Due to changelings being so elusive, it's pretty much impossible to track them down, and Lyr was more than happy to have a new and kind family of damen (Damen being a homebrew race closely related to tieflings but instead of the charisma score increase get a strength increase). This is the Shallowtear family, the royal family of my homebrew kingdom Infernium. Lyr was brought up with a girlboss mother who dresses pretty but will use her heels to kick you into next week, her malewife husband who loves his family above all else and wants to lay across a velvet sofa while being fanned and fed by various attractive people, an older sister who has 0 fucks to give and just wants to go out and smash skulls, and a younger sister who has a few more fucks to give (but not many) and spends a lot of time in the library studying magic.

Because of how changelings are perceived (very poorly; no one is too fond of a shapeshifter that can just take their place), Lyr was never very well received by the public. They were respected at most due to being apart of a very powerful family, but they were never treated very kindly by the citizens unless fully disguised as someone else. This mistreatment has included physical violence and has led to Lyr having quite a few problems in terms of how they feel they fit in. They adore their family, but don't feel deserving of the title that comes with it (prince, as Lyr often chooses to present masculine and overall prefers masculine/nb titles). They are also the only one in the family who will say "adopted" in reference to their relationship to the family. As far as the rest are concerned, Lyr may as well be blood related.

Because so many view them as a "monster," Lyr has chosen to become what the public wants. Not only becoming an assassin archetype rogue, but also just being a generalized asshole to everyone they meet. They take great pleasure in finding ways to get under people's skin and will not stop until you either start crying or get physically violent. They do not want to make people sad. They want to make people angry. They want to test the boundaries and see what makes people tick. However, if you catch them thinking they're alone or they trust you, maybe you'll find them singing a song or crying about how hated they feel, and you may be told they're only so rude because they believe that once someone finds them out, they'll be hated anyway, so they push people away as fast as they can to avoid the heartbreak.

This character has a 7 person harem.

I still get ;~; reactions every time I mention something sad about them.

It's very fun.

Why my characters are all traumatized to some degree:

I get a kick out of watching my friends get emotionally attached to them and wanting to protect said characters and then dropping a "Little too late for that" lore bomb

Angst is good for the soul

Giving your characters the same trauma you have (or a scaled up/down version) and then having them work around it is so therapeutic

It's also therapeutic (if you're a sadist) to just keep pushing a character until they break

The traumatized ones are always the ones everybody loves

It's so funny to see my friends look at my obviously horrible and cruel characters and cry inside because they know it's probably just because I hurt them

The aggressive keyboard smash and emoji spam (usually in the form of knives and shakey eyes) brings me so much entertainment

Sometimes your friends will send you angsty art and it's very good

In conclusion, I like to cause problems on purpose and my friends both love and hate me for it =)

[murderborn-of-vengeance]

Godzilla vs Kong 2021 Film Online Revision

For all these years I thought Godzilla was my bro but then I watch this new trailer andhe's smashing cities up You're embarrassing me, 

I told them we werefriends. The new GVK Teaser is completely breakingthe internet right now and Titan Level Trailer has one big question hanging over it. Whyis Godzilla destroying the cities and is he really the one doing it?Will the real godzilla please stand up? Well throughout this video we're gonna bebreaking it all down and going over our thoughts and theories on what's really going on.There will be heavy spoilers here as we'll be discussing some of the leaks but nothingbeyond what you could learn from the trailer if you were looking closely enough. If thisis your first time here then welcome to the  show, I'm your host Paul the Mega G when it comes to breakdowns, now let's discuss what's really going on.Ok so the premise of Godzilla Vs Kong online makes it seem like the Towering Titan has had enoughof Fish and Ships and he's decided to move his attention to land.

Monarch are stumped, fan boys are outraged and absolutely no one knows why the jollygreen giant had decided to turn on the people that love and adore him.It's seoul crushing, and I don't mean that he stepped on the capital of South Korea...eventhough it looks like he may have. 

Clearly something else is going on and fromthe trailers it looks like humanity has decided to take Kong in order to stand a chance againstthe atomic breath breathing bohemoth. But what if it's all one big misunderstandingand the king of the monsters is actually being framed for what we see him doing?Well if you go over the trailer with a fine tooth comb you'll notice that there are twodistinct moments that confirm that Mechagodzilla is indeed in the movie. After the initialattack that opens things up you can clearly see his classic metallic shape moving overthe the citizens that we see hurtling down the stairs faster than I clicked the trailervideo when I got the notification from Warner Bros.In another part of the first look we can see the character Ren Serizawa standing infrontof a control panel with a dinstinct metallic titan shape with the systems reading at Maximumcharge. 

Ren is actually the son of Ishiro played byKen Watanabe in the prior movies and it's clear that he's inherited his father's understandingof the Titans and has managed to craft his own.The place that we see him is clearly a Mechagodzilla control room and this signifies to me thathe is definitely being used by the humans. Now if you've been keeping up to date withthe plot synposiseseses that have been released for the film you'll know that recently therewas one released that said the terrorist group Apex were looking to find a way to wipe allthe Titans out in one fell swoop. Apex themselves are rumored to have builtthe beast through Ren who has used the brain of the severed ghidorah head from King Of The Monsters and the gigantic titan skeleton from the 2014 Godzilla film.Though he appears in a very small way in the trailer he's clearly gonna be laced throughoutthe film and this is even shown in the logos which have a distinct blue electricity flowingthrowing them. Now because of his dad it's difficult to tellwhether 

Ren is gonna be good or a bad guy but if Tobey Maguire has told me one thingit's that people with that haircut are rotten to the core. However I do think that he mayhave been tricked by Apex who would've been like "I knew your dad...in away...after Itried to kill him several times." Now though we know little about Apex, apparentlythey are trying to lure Kong and Godzilla out into the open so that they can have thepair fight against one another and then when the winner is weakened they simply send Mechagodzillain to finish them off. Not finish them off like that you dirty badboy. This technique is something that we saw Spectredemonstrate with the Siamese Fighting Fish in From Russia With Love and it's commonlya tactic used in most VS movies where the two opposing sides team up to take out thegreater evil. So it definitely is a possibility that Mechagodzillacould be the one carrying out the attacks on the cities in order to make the real onelook bad. I've even saw theories on my trailer breakdown that said that Mecha could be wearinga gigantic kevlar suit that just makes him look like Godzilla.It's like when you were a kid and you used to stand on your mates shoulders and weara trench coat to sneak into the cinema. 

However, I'm gonna say something controversial...somethingthat you might wanna sit down for if you're #TeamGodzilla.Ok so I don't actually think that Mechagodzilla is the one who's doing most of the city smashingand I think it is indeed Godzilla. In one scene in the trailer we can see him blastingout his atomic breath and this then sweeps across and causes many casualties in the explosionsthat arise from it. Now it may be a Kevlar suit but I think thatthe trailer in several ways is hinting to us that both Titan's are under some form ofcontrol or another. With Kong we see a young girl who holds upan idol that seems to calm down the gigantic ape and throughout the teaser there's lipservice paid to the fact that the pair have a special bond. 

Whether he recognises similaritiesin her to the other people that he's eaten in the past we don't know but we very muchhave this idea that he can be manipulated in some form or another even if it's willingly.Similar to this I believe that Kong will be under the control of Apex who, rather thanplaying their hand have found a way to manipulate Godzilla into going wild in the middle ofa city. King Of The Monsters clearly demonstratedthat the Orca device was a way to bring the Titans under control and I believe that thisdevice has been perfected and placed in Mechagodzilla as a way to have the metallic monster manipulateGodzilla into destroying the humans. Now I am more than willing to accept thatit could be a possibility that Mechagodzilla is just dressed up as the Titan but I feellike that cheapens that battle in many ways if it turns out to be true.What we really wanna see is both Kong and Godzilla fight and to have a reveal that hewasn't even fighting him this entire time I think would make the movie just feel slightlyshallow. 

As much as I love Godzilla I'd love if wehad a moment like in Batman V Superman where he says you were never a god...zilla and justsmacks him in the face similar to what we see in the trailer.Now the reason that I think that Mechagodzilla is able to manipulate the other titans includingthe big dog himself is because in the trailer we see two Nuzuki titans attacking Kong.According to the leaks these are natives of Skull Island however they also state thatthis place is now more of a sanctuary to the titans in which they have all fallen underthe rule of Kong rather than constantly being at war with one another.Thus them attacking him does signify to me that they may also have been sent crazy bythe twisted ways of Apex. 

Though this may not be the case it's evenpossible that the explosion which we see at the start of the trailer is actually the energyoverride of Mechagodzilla which will draw Godzilla to the area and then have him goape shit when the Orca is activated. I feel like those are probably the most likelypossibilities and though it pains me to say it I do think that the Godzilla we see inthe trailer is the real one. It just makes the most sense to me that he'sthe one causing all this death and destruction and if the rumoured monsterverse is goingto spring from this film I think the best place to start is with the humans not reallyknowing whether they can trust him or not. 

Obviously I'd love to hear your thoughts thoughand whether you agree with me or not in the comments below. Take care, Peace

Want to see Godzilla vs Kong 

Go here:

https://myfilmyonline.pl/caly-film/godzilla-vs-kong-2021/