#fucking pinnacle of average.

[camping-with-monsters]

what do you do with a jar of sam’s club olives

I swear to fuck………………..

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

I wish women did not feel so strongly about the fact men, on average, are physically stronger than them. I feel like women have such negative feelings about this that it drives them to ridiculousness. Listen, I get it. I get it, I get it, I get it. The fact men are stronger is frightening. It’s scary to know that if a man decided to physically attack you then you are probably fucked. The USWNT, women who have spent years honing their skills on the field, lost to teenage boys who—when compared to the women—were basically just beginning to develop their talents. I understand how demeaning that can feel to every woman who hears this fact. I can imagine how demeaning it was for the USWNT. I’m sure every woman has been in a situation, playful or threatening, where they have tested their strength against a man and lost miserably. I’ve seen videos where women hit and slapped men with genuine rage and fury and the man barely even flinched. I understand how embarrassing and scary it can be to come to terms with the strength disparity between men and women, but you simply must come to terms with it. Far too many women have taken to pretending that it's not there—this is not a good approach.

Women choose to pretend it's not there because acknowledging that it's there makes them feel inferior. I ask women to remember that this world was built with the ideals of men in mind and to cater to their specific strengths. Men value strength and violence so of course the world is going to seem like those two things are all that’s valued in it. It's no coincidence that many male heroes are physically strong/easily able to cause harm—such as Naruto or John Wick or the Avengers. Of course it feels shitty, as a woman who inhabits this world, to have to acknowledge that your biology generally prevents you from being able to have the ‘can beat anyone in a fight’ type of strength that gets constantly praised.

However, I implore women to consider that men being physically stronger than them is no more of a significant fact than women being able to give birth while men cannot. Women also have biological advantages over men but when was the last time you saw a man calling himself inferior because of them? Imagine if the world was built with female advantages in mind. Imagine a world where the ability to give birth was seen as some sort of pinnacle of human worth. I mean, the ability to give birth is crazy. You are literally creating a whole new life. The female body is capable of providing the necessary tools to bring about a whole new person. Every brain that has thought of something life changing and every hand that has built something new was brought into existence by a woman’s reproductive system. Every single person that has ever so much as breathed was brought to life by a woman, but men never think women are superior for this fact.

Oh, but women couldn’t get pregnant without men, right? No. IVF exists. But even without it, the correct thing to say would be that women cannot get pregnant without sperm. A woman can get artificially inseminated. She never has to go out and find a man to have sex with. Is that not an advantage? Because, I mean, what can a man do if he wants to have a child but no woman is willing to give him one? Hire a surrogate? That comes with a list of complications, is far more intimate than artificial insemination, and is incredibly expensive. How is that not a disadvantage of being male? You may be thinking that you, as a woman, never want to become pregnant, but that is not the point!  The point is that it's arbitrary to look at biological advantages as anything other than completely neutral.

Women also survive famine better and live longer than men. Imagine a world where women held this over men’s heads? But we don’t live in that world. In this world, I’m certain a man would say that they die sooner because of being braver, taking more risks, and doing dangerous jobs. However, if it were women putting themselves in danger and dying as a result, men would not be quick to call us brave; they'd call us the opposite. Idiotic. Foolhardy. Too stupid to take the necessary precautions to keep ourselves alive.

It is just so painful to see women lamenting over the physical disparity between men and women. Let it go. Consider being neutral on the subject of biological advantage. Consider that male strength isn't something to pretend doesn't exist and isn’t something that proves women are inferior.

I understand that acknowledging vulnerability is against the survival Instinct—I get it—but come on. How can we let this get to a point where we’re saying it’s okay for males to enter female sports and beat the absolute crap out of/wipe the floor with women? Them being stronger is neutral! It does not mean anything! But it’s fact. Pretending it’s not only serves to put women in a losing position. Pretending it’s not only serves to make women into a laughing stock. Men will gladly collect medals that belong to women—they’ve been doing that forever. If there was no reason for male and female leagues then there wouldn’t be any. You cannot deny your way into something being true. I also wish it were true that the average woman was evenly matched against the average man, but it’s simply not reality. In the same way that it’s not reality that the average woman is taller than the average man.

I am begging women to think neutrally about this topic instead of being in such deep turmoil over it that they open the door for men to walk all over us.

[ivymarquis]

So I was being a lil creep on @391780's blog and saw she'd made a comment about how {Valeria}'s so hot and so mean i just know she'd call a fat y/n something fucking terrible and make fun of her size. and whilst Imma not write any body shaming because that's fucked, my brain did black out at the mention of Valeria being terrible and wicked to Reader and this is what I came back to;

Mean Girl

Pairing| Valeria Garza x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 1.8l Kinks/Content/Warnings| Their dynamic probably isn't healthy but everything is consensual, chubby reader, anal sex, strap on, begging, punishment, name calling, slut shaming, Valeria is not dealing with reader's shit tonight, pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare

Your mother always cautioned you about bad boys growing up. You took one look at them, decided they weren’t worth the hassle and hit the books. 

Which was all fine and well when you finished school with stellar grades and no distracting boyfriends, because it wasn’t boys that caught your attention regardless of if they were bad or not. 

Now a mean girl?

As it turns out that is much more your style. 

How exactly one ventures down the “mean girl” to “cartel leader” pipeline is a mystery for the ages, but quicker than you can blink one moment you’re being introduced to El Sin Nombre’s sicaria, and the next you’re her spoiled little house cat.

Unlike the average house cat though, there’s minimal tolerance for any foolishness or shenanigans in Valeria’s household. 

She doesn’t expect much beyond your blind obedience to her every whim, and you’ve got hearts for pupils every time you look at her.  Absolutely no fucking regard to the fact that you’ve gone from no relationship experience through your schooling years and gone head first into the deep end with no life jacket with Valeria Garza of all people. 

That formal education isn’t doing you much good now.

Not that either of you are complaining. 

Valeria isn’t difficult to live with once you learn her quirks and idiosyncrasies. She is consistent in her expectations- sets the rules, and accepts no deviations from them. Anything less is punished. 

Now, considering the shit she’s probably complicit in if not outright done herself, you get off virtually scott free from punishments compared to others. You’ve still got all your fingers, limbs, and teeth thank you very much. 

But that still leaves a whole spectrum of punishment.

You’ve been on your best behavior- usually stumbling into corrections on accident and learning quickly what mistakes to not make again.

By now you’ve been with Valeria long enough that new relationship jitters shouldn’t be fluttering in your belly every time to set your eyes on her. And yet- She’s just sublime. You can’t help yourself. 

As someone who survived childhood and navigates adulthood by being polite and pleasant (occasionally to your own detriment), it is awe inspiring watching her enter a room and immediately take control of it. So far as anyone around her can tell, the world does in fact revolve around her and anyone stupid enough to not understand that is reminded of their place immediately.

You know that you’re not exempt from the firm grip Valeria keeps on her surroundings, but you manage to muck it up and overstep your place anyway.

“What’s that pretty brain of yours thinking about, Bunny?” she asks one night as the pair of you are reclined on the bed. It’s fairly obvious that she’s the subject of your current thoughts, looking at her like she hung the moon.

You don’t think much of it as you reply “Just thinking I have no idea what you see in me sometimes.”

Valeria makes her adoration of you painfully obvious so it’s not like you have reason to question it, but the pair of you are such polar opposites in every category, from build to disposition, that you’re the pinnacle of opposites attract. You wouldn’t survive a day in her world if it wasn’t readily apparent to anyone who might interact with you that Valeria will personally deliver their severed heads to their grandmothers’ doorstep if they don’t watch themselves. And, well- you don’t really do the self-pity thing because you can be hot and fat at the same time, but Valeria is hot in a conventional way that still boggles your mind when her clothes come off. 

So yes, for multiple reasons you often find yourself wondering how the hell you managed to pull her?

The previously soft, bemused expression on her face is wiped to a cold neutral as her eyes narrow sharply at you. Ah, fuck, you have just enough time to realize you stepped out of line with that comment just as she rolls over and straddles you. 

“If I wanted to fuck someone like me, Bunny, I’d just fuck myself. Perhaps you need a reminder of that?”

Next thing you know she’s got your hands bound to the headboard, ignoring the way you tug at the binds and whine as she works her strap inside your lubed up ass.

“Quit fucking squirming,” she sharply admonishes you, one hand gripping the soft flesh of your thigh for leverage as the other circles your clit to make you relax.

The beauty of a store bought cock is it’s the perfect size, part of why you can’t sit still.

As far as punishments go, once again you are getting off incredibly easy (and if you beg very, very nicely and are very apologetic and repentant you will probably get off in the conventional sense too) considering you absolutely love anal, but you’re sure Valeria already has a plan in mind to make sure she can drive her point home. We don’t want to have this conversation more than once, she’ll tell you.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you cum without permission,” she reminds you, ignoring the way you whimper as she pulls her hand away from your clit as she finishes working the length of her strap in, her hips pressed flush to the plush of your ass.

“Valeria, please, I’m sorry,” you start immediately, knowing if you want to wriggle your way back into her good graces the sooner you start pleading the better.

“You’re sorry?” she mocks, ignoring the shiver that runs through you as she pulls out just to press back into you again, “We’ll see.”

Her thrusts are slow and measured with just enough force you’re seeing stars as chills run up and down your spine.

“I don’t know where the fuck you get off,” she criticizes in time with the wet clap of her hips to your ass, “questioning me of all people.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” well, didn’t realize she’d take it like that but she’s making it abundantly clear now.

“You didn’t mean to?” she parrots back cruelly as you whine when she presses up against something inside you that has your leg shaking. “You’re such a little slut, look at how wet your cunt is,” Valeria degrades with her eyes glued between your legs, the way your skin glitters in the dim lighting from your own wetness. There’s very little you wouldn’t be willing to do to get Valeria to pay attention to your empty cunt right now, but you also know you’re on thin ice and don’t want to do anything to cause cracks to form in the ground under you.

Your focus drifts towards the knot winding itself up in your abdomen, getting bigger and threatening to grow all consuming with each knock of her hips. Your hands twitch in their binds, tugging uselessly on reflex.

“Since you’re apparently too fucking stupid to remember the rules, I’ll make this simple for you,” she starts shortly- never mind that there’s several pieces of paper hung up on the wall to prove you’re not stupid. “My decisions are without fault- ever. You do what you’re fucking told, when you’re told. I don’t keep you here to think. I keep you here because I like watching the way your whole body bounces on my cock, got it?” The force behind her thrusts increases in increments as she speaks.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble both in pleasure from your ass getting pounded and to answer her. Maybe with someone else the sting of being called stupid (or a slut) would- well, sting. But when you mind your place and the relationship is functioning like it should, you’re happily in a place where you can turn the white noise in your brain off and just follow orders like a good girl. Good girls don’t think, they just do what they’re told.

“I’m sorry” you plea again, hoping that she’ll be more magnanimous now she’s said her peace. “I’m sorry Valeria I won’t do it again,” you promise.

“You’re sorry? Or do you just want to cum?” She lets out an unimpressed huff, hips thrusting in a way that has you squealing and thrashing against your binds.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” It’s embarrassing the way your neglected pussy is dripping down between your legs and God you just want her to ease this unbearable ache inside of you. Your thighs burn from how much they’re trembling as you scramble to appeal to any mercy Valeria has before you cum against your better judgement and really put yourself in a fucking hole.

“Please, please, please- I’ll be good I promise!” you offer desperately. The only thing you can do is focus on breathing, trying with all your might to head off your orgasm.

“Fine,” She sounds exasperated, like she’s doing you such a favor allowing you to cum. “But you take what I give you and you better be fucking grateful for it.” Valeria hisses and no sooner are you nodding your head is she swatting at your cunt- hard.

You yelp at the sudden attention to your clit, and yelp each time she lands another blow to the swollen nub between your legs. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes between how fucking close you are and the sting from her hits.

She’s not entirely without mercy it seems- or she got bored slapping your clit and wants to watch you cum now- as the hand that is striking at you drops to your clit and rubs in tight, short circles just how you like.

Valeria laughs as you flinch in anticipation of the next swing before tensing in pleasure.

You’ve got just enough sense to squeak out “Thank you! Thank you, thank you-” in a mindless babble as your orgasm washes over you wetly. You’re messy when you climax and Valeria loves watching you squirt, evident by her delighted chuckle as you ruin the sheets.

“What kind of nasty whore gets off having her ass fucked, hm? Absolutely shameless,” Valeria goads but you’re fucked dumb and can’t possibly be expected to be paying attention anymore.

Everything gets hazy after that. At a certain point Valeria does decide she’s done with you, pulling out and laughing at how you’re such a twitchy, overstimulated mess.

When you come back to the land of the living, she’s somehow managed to coax you into the tub, the pair of you relaxing in the warm water. She’s got you tucked in between her legs, leaning against her with your nose buried in the crook of her neck.

“You back with me?” she asks, tone soft and gentle as one hand strokes at your shoulder.

“Mhmm,” you hum happily, nosing against her, sated and warm in the tub.

“Good. We’ll see about scrounging up some snacks in a bit, yeah?”

That sounds like a solid plan to you, although at the moment you’re so content in the bubble of warmth she’s got you enveloped in, you could happily stay here all night.

[wifegideonnav]

so like say you became god and had complete control over your own physical form. what do you do with your dick. because obviously everyone’s gonna be like “oh you used flesh magic to enhance that thang” if it’s big, organically or not. and if it’s average to small then everyone’s gonna be like “wym you’re god and it’s four inches.” maybe you mix it up, tell people you’re gonna fuck like. you pick. what do you wanna get nasty with. yes i can do tentacles. otherwise like there’s no winning. i guess at that point i’d just found my new universe with the primary cultural view being that my dick is the absolute pinnacle of dicks. definitely a day 1 issue regardless.

[sufferu]

Hey what do you think of this take on rem’s love for subaru?

https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/t85er7/novels_character_analysis_someone_just_like_her/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

I think it brings up some very interesting points — I particularly like their point about Rem seeing herself in Subaru, as a fellow below-average individual trying their best regardless of their weakness — but I don’t think it captures their entire relationship and I feel like it paints Rem as a fair bit more…stable, than she actually is. Like, yes, she does see Subaru as her hero precisely because he works hard despite his weaknesses, but she DOES still see him as a hero, and she IS still putting him on a pedestal for it. Hell, her final act defending Crusch’s caravans from Lye Batenkaitos is punctuated by her CHALLENGING TWO SIN ARCHBISHOPS on Subaru’s behalf.

(we don’t talk about the fact that she did that enough tbh. what the fuck girl)

And like — I feel like this analysis completely glosses over a lot of the really fucked up stuff she does to Subaru pre-Gluttony. She DID torture him in the woods for several hours due to being suspicious of him, traumatizing him to the point where he’s still frightened of chains a year later. She DID murder him in the hallway of the manor, in a way that is explicitly called out as needlessly brutal by Emilia in the WN’s Unthinkable Present of Arc 4 (it was cut for time but it wasn’t replaced with anything, so I think it’s still worth bringing up). She DID sneak into his room to watch him sleep every night even after he said that it was…really kinda creepy. She DID have that internal monologue in the LN where she considered running away with Subaru while he was too braindead to protest so that she could have him all to herself, with nobody to get in her way. She DID call caring for him while he was too dependent on her to so much as eat, use the bathroom, or even sit up on his own “the pinnacle of joy.” She DID say that she “never would have resisted him” if he had forced himself upon her in her sleep. She DID fake dying to the White Whale in order to manipulate Subaru into saying he loves her. SHE DID ALL OF THOSE THINGS.

And also, the meta is NOT kind to her. Her love of Subaru gets paralleled to Petelgeuse’ love of Satella in Arc 3, with Petelgeuse praising her as the height of devotion (something he DOESN’T do with Wilhelm, notably, despite Wilhelm being Arc 3’s example of a more healthy form of devotion). Her love gets paralleled with Subaru’s early obsession with Emilia, too. She is the ONLY NON-SUBARU CHARACTER to be directly responsible for an IF Route, because Sloth:IF entirely hinges on whether or not she decides to take Subaru’s hand — NOT on Subaru’s decision to extend it in the first place, which is an important detail regarding how the IF Route is framed. And in Arc 7, her amnesiac self explicitly starts referring to everything she instilled in Subaru in those first couple arcs as insanely toxic: the more she starts to care about him, the more she tells him to slow down, to think about himself more, to — for the love of god — stop trying to be a hero. In the early part of Arc 9 she is one of the only people to say “yeah, I won’t rely on him right now, specifically because he’s dealing with enough as it is and he needs to slow down.” Rem, more than anyone else, absolutely despises the very things she pushed Subaru to believe during those first couple arcs, because she sees it as incredibly, actively harmful (and considering what Natchuki Subawu does during Arc 8 in order to be a hero, she is absolutely right).

I’m really looking forward to Rem regaining her memories, because the moment she realizes that SHE is the reason Subaru is like this, she is going to absolutely lose her shit.

(Also there’s something to be said about how her projecting herself onto Subaru and then being very strict with him — to the point where her amnesiac self goes directly against her earlier advice by telling him repeatedly to slow down, for fucks sake — there’s something to be said about how that reflects on how her treatment of herself is toxic and unhealthy. Which, you know, fits with how she forced herself to be Ram’s Perfect Replacement and pushed herself to her absolute limit for years. So.) (Like the way Arc 2/3 Rem treats herself is canonically Very Unhealthy, and also her self esteem is absolute shit. Let’s not forget that part lol)

[whereismyhat5678]

Guys, the new year hasn’t started for me yet, I still got a few hours to go but I’ll mine-as-well make this post since I’ll probably go to bed anyways- 😂

First, I’d like to say

WE GOT A NEW BANNER LET’S GOOOOO‼️‼️‼️‼️

HELL YEAH! -I mean it’s just the characters but- HELL YEAH‼️‼️‼️‼️

SECOND. I want to show you something AMAZING and that something I’d never expect??

321 FOLLOWERS????

YOU GUYS ARE INSANE THANK ALL OF YOU SO MUCH MY GOD‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

It really makes me think how all of you guys really like and appreciate my art, and the fact that so many people encourage me to keep doing it, it brings me to tears! 🥹

Every one of you are the best thing in my life!! The first time I got Tumblr I started in:

March 30?? That’s insane- 💀

And the fact that I’ve improved SO MUCH is just INCREDIBLE!

You wanna see the FIRST drawings of Peppino??

YEAH THAT’S ME I DID THIS-

And you’re telling me that this was in what- THE START OF MARCH?? (Or February I don’t remember-) But this is just the PINNACLE of how much I’ve changed in terms in art style and experience.

I bring this up because I think Tumblr is the REASON why I improved so much! I experimented with brushes (digitally) and I found my brushes!! I learned how to EXAGGERATE AND ACTUALLY DRAW CARTOONY LIKE I’VE WANTED TO FOR SO LONG!!

(And NEVER took an art class. That’s fucking what- 💀 I need to take one I actually need to at this point-)

Also also also- I’ve learned a lot of things! Anatomy, exaggerative expression, stretchy cartooniness, ALL OF THESE ARE JUST- I can’t believe I’ve learned all this because one day I decided: “Maybe I should ACTUALLY get a social media for my art? 🤔” AND I DID IT AND CHANGED MY LIFE‼️‼️‼️

YOU GUYS CHANGED MY LIFE!-

My followers!- My mutuals/friends- I NEED TO SAY HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE ALL MY MUTUALS, ALL OF YOU 💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕

Everything about Tumblr has changed me in SUCH a positive way in not only terms of art but with how many people (TALENTED PEOPLE) I’ve made FRIENDS with AND ACTUALLY got to know!!!

I already said it but you guys are absolutely AMAZING and I just CAN’T FATHAM how much this year has just been a BLAST.

My mutuals:

@noodletime @moon9931 @marclef @margarita-the-pizzeria-worker @lucia-the-mii @lovestryke @lord-yiikes @ijusthavefun @linhfoxmoive @kate-bot @nomlioart @boogiestronic80s @zedortoo @jarroyave4637 @atlaslovesedm @alaskacoolkid1 @remaking-machine @average-amount-of-chaos @cherryxsapphic @dingle-dee @eyeballdrawer @tailsdollsnewlife @radaverse @gongustheawsome01 @fluffygiraffe @qwertykeyboard045 @w00den-h3ad @the-little-knight @oddpizza @misdreavusplush

(OKAY- I may have added some people on here that I think ARE REALLY COOL, I may not talk to you much but I’ve seen you guys like my art and I think ya’ll deserve to be on here 🫶💖✨)

AND IF I MISSED ANYONE PLEASE TELL ME I’M SO SORRY BUT JUST KNOW I LOVE ALL OF YOU THE SAME (Platonically) I HOPE YOU GUYS HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR AND HAVE A GOOD ONE 🎉🎉🎉

GOOD NIGHT TO ALL YOU LOVELY PEOPLE YOU GUYS MEAN THE WOLRD TO ME AND HAVE A GREAT NIGHT 💖💖💖💖

[catboybiologist]

Imma make an observation that literally is just an observation for its own sake, but it's gonna def be borderline toxic and self deprecating. I genuinely only want the observation part about it, and I'm really not being hard on myself or the community here, but if that distinguishment is gonna be hard for you just be warned.

Cool? Cool. Unfocused ramble under the cut.

Now that I've face revealed, I'm kinda curious observing from the sidelines the reactions that people aren't saying. Obvs I'm not a popular enough person to be like "WOAGH SISJDJDJ OMG ITS A FACE REVEAL" but I'm more talking about the general psychology of passing itself now that I show my full face vs when I hid it.

With that tiny scrap of markup covering my nose, chin, and mouth, I had people ENDLESSLY telling me that there's NO WAY I don't pass. OBVIOUSLY whatever I was hiding was the absolute PINNACLE of femininity. My ask box was literally fucking filled with those comments to the point it was obnoxious- "why do you hide your face you're so pretty" or something like it, DMed and anoned to me over. And over. And over again.

I've really only shown my face in "perfect angle" pictures now, and even then it's obvious that I don't pass. Likely, my face looks nothing like what most people imagined. I got this from a lot of people I showed my face to in discord as well- you'd be hard pressed to say that I fully pass now. Best you could do is probably "yeah you look femme but def clocky to the right eye", and I get a lot of "pretty but clocky" type "compliments" from people.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a "woe is me I'll never pass I'm horrific" post. Now this is Tumblr, and the core group of trans people that I love interacting with largely don't care, or even find the clockiness hot. I'm also gaining confidence in the twinkhon vibes myself, while also knowing that I still have a LONG way to go on HRT, and whatever my face looks like now, it'll be way different in the years and months to come. In the end, passing or not, I don't care. And obviously, that's not a binary thing, blah blah, insert all the passing discourse here. That's not what this post is about.

What it IS about is how far the perception of my face drifted from people's actual assessment of it when I face revealed. When I had the clockiest features of my face hidden, there was an intrinsic assumption that they were more femme than they actually were.

I've also gotten slightly less interaction on my selfies in general (aside from the initial face reveal) but that could just be a byproduct of my reduced activity on Tumblr overall from road tripping. I'll have to see what it's like in the future, but I highly suspect that a large number of lower interaction people now view me as less attractive. I'm not saying they're avoiding me in disgust, I'm saying that when their was a gap in their perception, their brains autofilled a more attractive image than actually existed. This doesn't apply to my core group of moots that are high interaction and comment n stuff (love y'all) but the large scores of people who leave simple tags or reblog and like in passing- I think I just got less attractive in people's minds.

What does all of this say? Honestly it's hard to say. This is more observation than anything else. It might be linked to beauty standards, or just a bias of "unga bunga skinny white woman with conventionally attractive body must have conventionally attractive face" which turned out not to be true, or whatever.

Again, just a weird ramble. Bug summary is that people, on average, assumed I passed before I showed my full face, and now, far less do.

Oh yeah, and inb4 "and omg you actually pass though"- this post isn't for you. There's lots of people who see me and think that I don't, including in Tumblr. Passing varies on a person to person basis, and what I'm saying here is that face revealing flicked a switch in many, but not all, people's brains from passing to non-passing.

[cowboyemeritus]

Il Suo Campione (Copia/Reader)

Chapter Five

Series Masterlist

Summary: You sit in on an Emeritus Family business meeting.

Content Warnings: organized crime, prostitution, very vague references to sex trafficking

Read on AO3

Notes: hey! thank you all for sticking around. this is going to be a two-parter — i had more planned out for this "episode" but before I knew it this chapter was already at 3k words. i would like the next few chapters to be more episodic, which means they'll probably be longer, but it's been a while since i've updated this story and i wanted to have something for you all sooner rather than later.

feedback is always welcome — enjoy! :)

It’s a rare Friday night when neither of you are working. Mary lounges on the beat-up couch with a beer in hand, a slasher flick he’s seen a million times playing on the television. You’re in the kitchen hovering over a pot of sugar water, waiting impatiently for it to cool so you can refill the hummingbird feeder. Other than the screaming coming from the living room, it’s an unusually peaceful evening.

The phone rings. Neither of you move. It rings again. Still nothing. You count five bursts of sound before Mary, with a loud, agitated groan, sets his drink down and goes to pick it up. It’s a well established fact that between the two of you, he gets pretty much all of the calls, so answering the phone is his responsibility. That doesn’t stop him from glaring at you as he trudges into the kitchen, picking up the receiver from where it hangs on the wall.

“Howdy.” Mary’s face immediately twists, like he’s sucking on a lemon, when the person on the other end begins speaking. “Yeah, she’s right here.” He holds out the receiver, a severe look on his face. “It’s for you.” Confused, you shuffle over and take it from him, holding it up to your ear. With a grunt, Mary goes back to the couch.

“Hello?”

“Dolcezza!” Copia’s voice is so loud you cringe, moving the phone a few inches away from your head. “How are you?”

This is already weird. It’s been a little over a week since your last encounter with your handler. Normally, he arranges for fights every three or four. You’re still battered and bruised from your last bout, in what he would normally call “no shape” to perform.

“Is there a fight,” you ask. From the couch, Mary turns his head in your direction, already concerned. Copia chuckles.

“No, no, no. I thought that maybe I could take you out tonight.”

What?

“Dolcezza?”

“I don’t know.”

“It will be fun,” he pleads, sounding more like a petulant child than the man you know. “My treat, of course. There are some people I would like for you to meet.”

“Please don’t make me.”

There’s a pause. He sighs. “Cara, this is important. It would mean a lot to me if you came.” You can hear the puppy-eyes through the phone.

God fucking dammit.

“Okay,” you mumble, regretting it the second the words leave your mouth. “Do I need to — I dunno — dress up or anything?” You own very few clothes other than your sweats, a pair of jeans for work, and an assortment of ratty, old t-shirts, mostly hand-me-downs from Mary. The last time you looked at yourself in the mirror, the bruising under your eyes still hadn’t cleared either. Knowing Copia, that won’t cut it at whatever place he has in mind.

“I have made arrangements for that. Kevin is on his way to pick you up. He should be there soon. ”

Then what was the point of asking? “Alright.” You cover the receiver with your hand so he doesn’t hear you sigh. “See you soon.”

“Stupendo! I will see you soon, bella.” You promptly hang up, glancing over at Mary. He looks more curious than anything now.

“Booty call?”

The Pinnacle is really the only legitimate business the Emeritus Family operates. It’s more-or-less your average, high-end gentleman’s club, nothing to really bat an eye at. As the car pulls into the parking lot, bathing the cab in neon purple light, your skin prickles, a tightness forming in your chest.

You weren’t expecting Copia to take you to a strip joint.

“Here we are,” he says. You sit there, motionless, as he steps out of the old Buick, rounding around the front to open your door. He extends a hand and, because you know it’s too late to turn back, you take it. The night is misty with a slight drizzle, so he tries to get you inside as fast he can. It’s a challenge; Copia has provisioned you with a pair of heels and though they’re short, you’ve never worn anything like that before. The test laps you took around his living room were clearly not enough, and there are several points on your way to the entrance when you nearly twist your ankle. 

There’s a line of men waiting to get into the club. You get a few looks, some confused and some intrigued, and instinctively pull down the hem of your silky black dress when you hear a snicker. Copia leads you right to the door, bypassing the line entirely. Two large men are stationed at the entrance, one checking IDs and the other collecting cover fees. When they see Copia, they let the two of you through without a hassle. He nods at each of them as you pass by.

“Alpha, Omega.”

The door opens, and you’re immediately hit by booming music. The inside of the club is dimly lit, illuminated by more purple lights. You obverse that there are two bars on opposite ends of this main room and there are two levels of seating, booths lining the top with tables and chairs organized around the stage. A thin woman with short, silvery hair spins around the pole as the audience whistles and hollers. It takes you a moment to realize she’s completely topless, and you whip your head in the other direction, feeling embarrassed. The wall closest to you features a collage. Looking closer, it appears to be a collection of stills taken from CCTV footage, displaying the faces of various men. Plastered above it is a sign that reads “WALL OF SHAME” in dainty handwriting. The pictures are blurry, but to your surprise, you recognize a few of the faces.

Small world.

Still holding your hand, Copia leads you through the crowd. You stare at the ground as you walk, avoiding looking at the stage like the sight could turn you to stone. The journey ends at an innocuous door labeled “EMPLOYEES ONLY” by the further bar. Copia scans your surroundings once, twice, before opening it, revealing a poorly lit staircase. The room at the bottom is just as dark as the rest of the place.

“Welcome to The Pit, cara,” Copia says quietly. He holds the door open, gesturing for you to start descending the stairs. Though hesitant, you obey, grasping onto the railing for dear life as you take your first few steps into the dark. He follows close behind, at one point grabbing your arm when you misstep, steadying you. At the bottom seems to be a private lounge, much smaller than the hall upstairs. Several couches and chairs, all opulent velvet and leather, furnish the space. Occupying them is a mix of clients, men of a variety of ages but all clearly Emeritus associates, and a few of the entertainers, all exquisitely beautiful women in various stages of undress. There’s another, smaller bar and a long hallway off to your immediate left. It smells heavily of cigarettes and weed. Copia receives several waves and shouted greetings when he enters the room. You largely go unnoticed, which you’re thankful for.

“This way.” With a gentle hand on your back, Copia ushers you down the hall. There are multiple doors on each side, with one at the very end. Only one of the side rooms has light coming from under the door. As you walk by it, you pick up on the sound of creaking, punctuated by moaning. It’s only then that you realize what this place truly is. Unnerved, you peek over your shoulder at Copia. If he heard it the noise, he doesn’t acknowledge it, looking forwards to the end of the hall. That knot in your chest gets even tighter.

“There are some people I would like for you to meet.”

It feels like the door is coming to meet you instead of the other way around. Copia reaches over your shoulder to knock, then has you shuffle awkwardly out of the way as he turns the knob. The room beyond appears to be an office. There’s a desk by the far wall, although the space is dominated by a set of parallel couches with an antique coffee table between them. Two older gentlemen are seated across from each other. One of them has wispy white hair and deep-set wrinkles. The other is bald with an aquiline nose, pronounced frown lines, and a pencil-thin mustache. They both have the Emeritus eye, burning like white-hot stars in the dimly lit room.

“Fratellino,” the older-looking man says, smiling pleasantly. It takes him a moment to stand up, his joints creaking audibly as he does so. He takes a few shuffled steps over to the door, pulling Copia in for a hug. The bald man follows him, but is more reserved in his affection, giving him a quick pat on the back. When their attention turns to you, his face remains neutral, but there’s gleam of… something in his eyes. “And who is this lovely young lady?” Copia tells them your name.

“Dolcezza, my brothers.” He gestures to the older one. “Primo.” The man takes your hand and gives it a firm shake. “And Secondo.” From him you receive a nod.

You know a little bit about Copia’s family, mostly from offhanded comments he’s made in the past. Now you can put faces to names. He’s the youngest of four half-brothers, all Nihil’s sons from different mothers. From an early age he had groomed them to join the family business in the hopes that at least one of them would be competent enough to someday take his place. Whether that’s true or not remains to be seen. Primo, you know, is responsible for the procurement and distribution of various illicit substances. Secondo takes part in this to some extent, but the impression you got from Copia is that he handles the more… unsavory aspects of the business.

“Human resources,” he had once said jokingly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you mumble, still on edge. Primo beckons you both inside and motions for you to take a seat. You end up on one of the couches, sitting between Copia and his oldest brother, who make small talk for the next several minutes. Though you keep your gaze directed down at the coffee table, you can feel Secondo’s eyes on you from the opposite couch.

“We do not usually allow visitors to sit in on our meetings,” he says during a lull in the conversation. Something about his voice adds to your uneasiness, although you can’t tell why. “What makes you think you can bring your whores around unannounced?” You’re not a fan of that at all, whipping your head up to meet his piercing gaze. Copia winces, giving you an apologetic look.

“Try to be polite,” he begs. “This is a… business partner of mine.” Somehow, you like being called that even less. “Where is Terzo?”

Secondo shrugs. “Knowing that asshole? Probably dead in a ditch somewhere.” As if on cue, the office door flies open. In strides a man with raven black hair and a strong, square jaw. He’s holding two stemmed glasses in each hand, a bottle of wine tucked under one arm.

“Gentlemen.” His voice has a raspy quality to it, like he has a horrible case of laryngitis. He approaches the sitting area, swaying a barely-perceptible amount as he does so. The three brothers share a look when he stumbles into the coffee table, but none of them say anything. It’s not until he flops down on the couch next to Secondo, having deposited his precious cargo on the table, that he notices you. He quirks an eyebrow. 

“I did not realize we had a guest. Forgive me, bella; if I had known, I would have brought another glass for you.” He reaches over the coffee table, offering his hand. You take it, expecting a handshake, but he instead brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. For a split second, his gaze wanders across the scars that adorn them, before flicking back up to you. “Terzo Emeritus,” he purrs, an intrigued look in his eyes. “I am the proprietor of this establishment.” Next to him, Secondo grunts.

“Let us get on with this,” he says, looking to Copia. “You called this meeting. Now tell us about this ‘proposal’ of yours.” All eyes are now on your handler. For the first time since you’ve met him, he actually looks nervous.

“Yes, well.” He swallows, placing a hand on your knee. “I am looking to expand my operation. Our client base is growing; they want more fights, more often. That is hard to arrange, though. The biggest issue is usually the venue. We find the space most of the time; warehouses, old gyms, et cetera.” Terzo already looks bored. “But we cater to a more, eh, refined audience. They like nice things.” It doesn’t look like he’s getting his point across. “What I am saying is that I would like to start by adding some classier venues to the rotation. I think The Pinnacle would be perfect.”

The image of you up on that stage, knocking the lights out of another girl while men throw dollar bills at you, briefly flashes through your mind. You get a queasy feeling.

Terzo laughs out loud, adjusting the scarf tied tightly around his neck. “You cannot be serious, fratellino. Why would I give up my club for your silly games? Do you know what that would do to our revenue stream? I have to make sure my girls are paid, you know.”

Does that include the ones down here?

“I know what you are thinking,” Copia says, learning forward to look at his brother. He’s got an intense look on his face. “But I am not asking for a whole lot. One night, every few weeks. You could have the bar open. Your girls could work before and after the fight. And you charge, what? Ten dollars per person to get in?”

“Fifteen,” Terzo spits.

“That is chump change.” Copia reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Terzo. “Copied from Psaltarian’s books. In case you remain unconvinced.” The third Emeritus brother unfolds the paper, his eyes widening as he reads whatever is written on it. He passes it to Secondo, who raises his eyebrows and gives Copia a mildly bemused look. The paper travels once more, this time to Primo.

“Well,” he says, handing it back before you can see it. “That is certainly something.” Copia’s posture straightens, vindicated.

“I still have my doubts, though,” Terzo interjects. The grip on your knee tightens. “Those numbers are impressive, yes, but what makes you think you can pull in enough people to make this whole endeavor worth it? I am not handing over my establishment so that a handful of horny men can watch some girls beat each other up.” He looks at you, pityingly. “Mi dispiace, signorina. I am sure you are quite an athlete.” He’s perceptive. Copia perks back up at this.

“That is why I wanted you to meet her.” You look at him, confused and nervous for what he might say next. “She is a remarkable fighter, una demionetta. Dozens of people come to watch her, and that number is only increasing.” He sighs. “Nihil does not understand, but I thought you all might. If you were to see her in her element, you would get why I think she — why this — is worth investing in.”

You feel like Copia has just dropped a bomb in your lap.

Four pairs of green and white eyes are now focused on you, clearly expecting you to say something. “I, uh.” You swallow. “Yeah, I guess.” Your face is burning, pulse racing.

“What do you say, gentlemen?” There’s a long pause. Terzo is first to break the silence.

“You know how I despise violence, fratellino.” He chuffs. “But if you are serious about this, I would be willing to see what this ‘demionetta’ of yours can do, provided everyone else is on board.” The attention of the room turns to Secondo, who has been sitting quietly with his arms crossed.

“Fine,” he grunts. “But it had better be worth my time.” His eyes bore into you as he says it.

“I will pass,” Primo says. “But I can tell that this young lady is indeed formidable. Copia, you are right in that we must expand our holdings if we wish to compete with the other Families. They have been making trouble for us already; incoming shipments have been going missing recently.”

“The Giordanos, I suspect,” Secondo states. “Sons of bitches…”

“Bloodsports it is, then!” Terzo exclaims, throwing his hands up in front of him. “This calls for a toast.” He rises on steadier feet than before, rounding around the desk to rummage through a drawer. Copia is busy looking at you with a reassuring, proud smile when his brother pulls out a bottle-opener, tossing it in his direction. The device hits him in the back of the head. You can’t help but feel it’s justified. Copia glares at him before turning his attention to uncorking the wine bottle on the table. You watch as Terzo opens another drawer, pulling out a liquor glass and another bottle filled with a green liquid. From a carafe on the desk he pours a small amount of water into the glass before unscrewing the top of the bottle and adding a generous pour of what you presume is absinthe. It’s Mary’s drink of choice when he’s songwriting, but he normally adds more water and a sugar cube.

Beverage in hand, Terzo returns to the couch as Copia pours out equal measures of wine in each glass. He hands one to Primo, then to Secondo, and is about to give one to you when Terzo snatches it from him, taking a claiming sip. Your eyes meet his, and he smirks.

“Go on,” he says, holding out the glass of absinthe. “If you are really so tough.” A fire is lit inside of you at the prospect of a challenge. Copia is about to protest but before he can, you accept, taking a sip of the green liquid. Even watered down it’s fucking strong, the taste of licorice assaulting your senses. You manage to keep your composure. Terzo looks amused, raising his wine glass. “To new business ventures. Saluti.”

[mydaddywiki]

Joseph W. Tobin

Physique: Average Build Height: 6’ 3" (1.91 m)

Joseph William Tobin, CSsR, (born May 3, 1952-) is an American prelate of the Catholic Church. A member of the Redemptorist order, he has been the Archbishop of Newark since 2017. He previously served as the Archbishop of Indianapolis from 2012 to 2016 and as secretary of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life from 2010 to 2012. He has been a cardinal since November 19, 2016.

Lets see, he’s a tall, handsome Irish-American who likes Bob Seger, plays piano, lift weights and speaks five languages, who went from being the oldest of 13 children living in Detroit to the pinnacle of the global church. Nice. Nice. Also he’s LGBT friendly. What? Other than Cardinal Timothy Dolan, I've never wanted to fuck a priest more… are the words I never thought I would say.

[bitchesgetriches]

Stop Measuring Your Time in Beyoncé Hours

We do not all have the same twenty-four hours to work with every day. Full stop.

To illustrate this point, let us turn to a perfect human. Let us turn, of course, to Queen Bey.

You think Beyoncé scrubs her own damn toilet? You think she waits on hold with Comcast customer service when her Internet is down? Does she schedule her own doctor’s appointments and pick her kids up from daycare?

A resounding “hell no.”

She has hair and makeup people, a personal trainer, nannies, personal assistants, drivers, maids, publicists, stylists, fixers (I just assume), nutritionists, and someone to hold her purse at events.

As a result, Beyoncé has shed the petty concerns of the average person. She need not waste time on literally anything. Her full twenty-four hours are devoted to creativity and brilliance and personal betterment. (Just kidding. It’s impossible to get better than Beyoncé.)

A Beyoncé Hour is therefore worth at least 144 standard Earth hours.

Beyoncé can achieve in one hour what it takes mere mortals six days to achieve. And on the seventh day she fucking rests.

You’re not Beyoncé.

You do not have people for that shit.

It is the pinnacle of privilege to suggest that we all have the same twenty-four hours to work with. I suspect that anyone peddling such heartless nonsense is standing atop a pyramid of resources and help that most of us simply don’t have.

Keep reading.

[huevobuevo]

Whoops

hello generation loss enjoyers. it has been several months since the release of ranboos project, how have yall been? im going to be insane.

Many folks have known me as the lminal space connosieur, dead malls and fucked up houses in particular being my strongsuit for both their sex appeal and the amount of symbolism they can all hold.

Watching Gen Loss with my friends through a hostage situation was a wonderful experience! upon the reveal of the Showfall Media offices being inside a rented out mall, there was a split second where I was a bit unamused at the lack of effort put into integrating the mall's architecture into the studio's office. There were only a few empty stores being used with at the bare minimum some chairs and desks, half the mall was still closed, the mini maps stands were still up, and the food court's usage as the streamers hub was very just. like. thats a whole ass food court. without the people walking around the only way to actually know what the hel this was being used for was the giant white banner that just said showfall media like a fraternity's house claiming its territory.

But then, as the episode 2 closed out, almost instantly it hit me why. why the mall was still a mall, why there was little to no integration for the set- it was on purpose. it was supposed to just be a studio crammed inside a mall. a dead mall, to be precise.

first lets get into the anatomy of what makes a dead mall dead. Around the 1980's a rise in popularity of the commercial supermalls began to spread, the american consumerist dream was rampant with a greater demand of fast fashion, merchandise, and all kinds of strange trinkets for the average american to waste their money on. It was capitalism's wettest dream, but as the years went on there came a steady decline in popularity. Sometimes the competing businesses ended up putting each other out of stock, maybe the trends began dying off, and in certain areas consistent crime rates drove away costumers.

Then in the mid 2000's the stock market crash ended up pushing several people into poverty, the lower class unable to afford the luxury goods offered at shopping centers. Then online shopping took society in a deathgrip, further pushing away the desire for in-public purchasing. Brands took notice and began selling online-exclusive products. In the late 2010's the sightings of several "dead malls" were on an alltime high, some being left to rot while others were demolished all together in favor of empty concrete spaces.

Corporate response to this was one of two things; continously invest in the "Anchor Stores" (big chain stores like Macys or Forever 21 that brought in more customers, usually stationed at the ends of the mall). Meanwhile the smaller businesses inside would be shut down one by one to save costs, until eventually the anchor stores themselves would be forced to leave. Sometimes the Anchor Stores would leave beforehand, not wanting to waste money investing in a deadend location. the decline is faster, the mall rots quicker. The company sells the lot to the biggest buyer and destroys what little remains.

Then there are times where the mall itself is sold off to another bigger company, in hopes of more funds to rejuvenate the center. Majority of the time the mall will enter a large reconstruction designed to look more appealing, mor modern. In actually, the personality of the malls architecture is stripped like the skin of prey. The colors and vibrant shapes of the late 1900’s, the waterfalls with rocky beds and marbled beige tiles, all replaced in favor of sharp black on white edge and stainless steel fencing. The occasional shrub here or there, maintained by automation. Lights too bright, all glimmer, all space. Sometimes it works, sometimes the mall is reborn as the pinnacle of luxury again! Sometimes it rots in shiny chrome, a corpse dragged along in the hopes of attracting attention. All it does is stink and bloat, a miserable display.

I hope you begin to catch what im saying.

In Generation Loss, the Showfield Social Experiments are commentary on streamer culture and the damaging relationship between a content creator & their platform. Visualized by Ranboo being pushed into dangerous scenarios for the sake of entertainment, their disposable friends forced into the flat archetypes the fandoms have labeled them as.

They were all vibrant young folks once, bright with personality and that raw humanity filled with flaws and voice cracks. Shitty microphones and inconsistent uploads, some were barely finishing high school. Then they became big, almost too big. They were characters now, and just like Ranboo’s teammates the perception of them as humans were dumbed down to memorable trademarks. Streamers and Content Creators alike had to be marketable now, and when the time comes where they lost their popularity sometimes they sign off to groups and organizations to help boost them up again. They are stripped of their rawness again. Theres a reason their artforms are called “content”.

So it makes sense that Showfall Media, the personification of the content creators downfall, would do the same to a Mall. The corpse of the center is repurposed loosely to fit the studios purpose. It is empty, it is hollow, it is dead. Low costs, big risks- just like Gen Loss Ranboo.

basically

Content Creators are Dead Malls.

[eresia-catara]

Have you seen Pupi Avati's Dante? Was it any good? I wanted to pirate it because I'm so desperate for Dante content but the letterbox reviews say its abysmal and there's a scene where Dante shits in the Arno???

my my....the fatal question is here....

Look. Look at me. I KNOW what it's like to be desperate for dante content. I KNOW. BUT. You have to stay strong. To say it was shitty is a compliment. It was simply terrible. They tried sooo hard to show Dante like a random ass guy (aka they tried to make him crass??) that the movie ended up being about Boccaccio in a horror story. It is an absolute disservice to Dante's dignity and genius and I'm not saying this in a 'Dante is Sacred and Cannot be Touched u-u' way. They simply seemed to go 927362618 kilometers off track, they- I mean the more I think about it the more my question is,, how?? could an italian director who allegedly studied and prepared for the movie for years have conceived....this? It's disheartening more than anything. You can clearly see that the audience is not supposed to be dante enthusiasts OR people who want to get to know dante. It was presented as an attempt to make him more accessible, but the real audience is the average uncultured person who doesn't give a shit about learning new stuff. The movie is NOT made to give you a better or more accessible understanding of dante, it's made to make you turn off your brain, enjoy a few squallid fuck scenes, get disgusted a little, and all with the excuse that you're watching a movie about dante so you are Actually Not Wasting Time.

So. Do I recommend it? No. Not at all.

Sorry anon, invest your piracy skills in more worthy movies :/

And yes. We do see him taking a shit.

p.s.

if I had to point out ONE positive thing about the movie, it's Guido talking to Dante's lips rather than eyes for the whole fragmented minute that he was on screen. that was the one and only pinnacle in a vast plane (or rather abyss).

[cielosuerte]

side note i do hate how therapy has been built as this necessity thing not because i think it isn't but because it's insane to treat it as something everyone has to do or else there's no way to get help for anything when it isn't accessible or well supported or even safe for like 85% of all people. it's either too expensive or your therapist is overworked or the place is underfunded or they are evil and will hurt you or institutionalize you without ever saying or doing anything helpful at all. like i do not think we can pose anything as the pinnacle and only answer when anything more serious than super mild depression or more complicated than an average breakup is going to put you on thin ice with someone who will at best be unable to help you and at worse actually despises you. i just can't stand it. y'all don't have anything else to say? really? "sorry the only choice is to spend $200 a week to talk to some regular guy who doesnt really care about you. if you cant do that youre fucked man theres no hope" < this is what you sound like and it is so annoying. if that's your only suggestion or offer i think everyone is better off if you dont say anything at all

[jasmineiros]

Taylor Swift is being way to much overhyped that's the problem. They show her down on everyone's throat. She's not legendary just because she is popular and she has many fans.

Seriously, I can imagine NFL fans being tired of seing her face. I for the love of god can't imagine Football fans being fans of her music. She doesn't appeal to every generation and her music doesn't have long lasting impact. No matter how hard they try. It just isn't working.

The damn comparsions like Beatles, Madonna, Michael Jackson. Mostly Michael Jackson. And it's not even fans ( sometimes I wonder if they are her haters who set her up like this). It's also these trashy tabloids. " Oh she's like Michael Jackson." And then they fucking lie to make it seem like she broke one of his records to make it seem impressive. Like once they claimed that she broke the record of the highest crossing concert tour film. Which was previous hold by Michael with This is it. This is it wasn't even a concert tour. He died before he could do any show it was just a documentary. Or that she broke his record of selling the most in the 21 century in a year. This isn't impressive. He didn't even live like 9 years in this century. And he has only released one album during that time while he was still alive. How is that even? I swear...

And of course if you do comparsions like that. People have Standards. And when they see that she can't dance and is a mediocre performer they start dragging her. Well then of course these Swifties come in and say: " Well she is a singer not a dancer. " " She doesn't need to know how to dance. She's just having fun." Well newsflash if Michael Jackson (sometimes for no reason) is constantly being brought up to her name. Of course people are going to expect someone who can perform. As he literally was said to be the greatest entertainer of all time.

"She doesn't appeal to every generation and her music doesn't have long lasting impact. No matter how hard they try. It just isn't working."

This is absolutely true, anon, you are a pinnacle of wisdom.

I might not be the greatest fan of all of these artists you mentioned but they were/are legendary performers. It's almost blasphemous to compare Michael Jackson with her, because if you remove the numbers of tickets sold, people in concerts and the hype of the moment, what do you actually have?

A pop performer who can't perform because as you said, she can't dance and all instruments she holds just seem like adornments. She is basically supposed to be a doll on stage and she actually is, because the impact she causes on me is basically the same as an inanimate object.

Everyone is expecting a pop singer to be not only a singer, but a dancer, an actual entertainer. You can see even Blue Ivy, Beyoncé's daughter, puts a great effort in her dancing and her improvement is actually pretty visible. I find it insane that someone that has that amount of money can't do the bare minimum to actually perform her job decently.

"No, but she has been through stuff"

My sister in Christ, Michael Jackson had to deal with the fact he had to deal with traumas he would never get rid of due to his abusive father and being a black minority in a deeply racist country. Having to deal with break ups is not "being through stuff", it's just what a very average person has to deal with.

But I don't know, maybe we're just all wrong. At this point she can just take a big shit on stage and they will cry their eyes out for being disruptive.

[typekiku]

thoughts on TYPE MOON stuff

well these are my the type moon stuff i have read or watched or whatever so far. this is my opinion only so its inherently correct argue with the wall or touch grass as the youth say SO here it goes drum roll

FATE EXTRA

boring as shit. no joke im sorry its just booty cheeks but of the not sexy kind. its beyond mid its so mid i cant even act like i enjoyed it. it has an interesting concept and world sure but everything else is doo doo butter.

only good part is nero being hot asf and ig whatever servant there is because i only used nero (lmao i aint playing it all over again) she was funny at times

see shes hilarious at times... im sure CCC will change my mind... right? it has sakura what am i saying its PEAK

also fuck them for including arcueid in this crap

GARDEN OF SINNERS

i honestly dont have much to say about this one it never really clicked with me nor did i ever feel anything about it... BESIDES TOUKO

TOUKO IS SO HOT OMG

clears throat

that aside yea i genuinely dont have any opinion on this series of movies good or bad besides movies 3 and 5 which were my favorites

maybe i need to rewatch em one day and really try to get into it

FATE STRANGE FAKE

my favorite spin off in the whole fate franchise. it has some of my absolute favorite characters and GIL like what else would one even want in life amirite

some of my favorites are:

Richard: the absolute goat and one of my fav servants ever

Enkidu: i want a spinoff of gil and enkidu... is that so hard to ask??

Flat: my son

Jack: my uhhh child ig

alcides: the closest we will get to archer herc but just pure cool regardless

hansa: cyborg priest. nothing gets cooler then that

and many more im already too ti- FILIA - red to mention

i've only read up to volume 7 so i gotta get to reading the rest soon

its just pure chaos and is fun while doing so despite being slow as shit

FATE GRAND ORDER

ok this is the most complicated series here in a way since its so incredibly mixed.

there are some of the highest peaks in fate and then some of the lowest lows so lets see

Highest peaks:

babylonia

Camelot

lb5 (YES olympus and atlantis im tired of acting like olympus isnt peak NO heian kyo its mid)

LB6

the rest of the lostbelts are good but not that good

goetia is an incredible villain

lowest lows:

first five singularities

solomon im sorry the stuff with goetia was peak but the rest was average

gameplay

gacha

serious lack of male summer servants like cmon i wanna see them abs

overall fgo is alright but some parts of it is straight up incredible HOWEVER all of it is seriously held back by being a gacha mobile game and has to work around that limitation

also it has barghest whom i absolutely adore

also fuck fgo for forgetting medea...

WITCH ON THE HOLY NIGHT

now this is peak. the most gorgeous tm work by far i have to say its simply an incredible read all around. even tsukire did not look or work or sound as good as mahoyo did even tho it came out almost ten(?) years after

on the story front i loved it too with a special shoutout to soujuuro being one of my favorite characters in TM (i say this often not my fault type moon keeps releasing bangers)

however mahoyo has two issues for me:

the story is clearly incomplete: i dont mean its just nonsense or whatever but when nasu said its the first of a trilogy you can just feel that in the story with alot of things being left in the air. this wouldnt be an issue really if mahoyo 2 wasnt basically dead....

i didnt vibe with the slice of life scenes as much as i usually do in nasu works: this isnt a flaw in the story more so i just didnt like em idk how else to word that

mahoyo is a great read however and i highly highly recommend you read it or else

it also has touko enough said

TSUKIHIME (original version)

Greatest of all time. Zenith of the medium. Hallmark of media. Gold standard of storytelling. Apogee of creativity. Vertex of invention. Crest of ingenuity. Acme of imagination. Pinnacle of innovation. Epic of epics. Legend among legends. Peak fiction

ok fr tho its actually incredible and you should read it right the fuck now

all of the characters are simply chefs kiss. while the visual novel is incredibly dated and the art is even worse you have to understand this is nasu and takeuchis first ever visual novel made on a barely existing budget.

boy do they make up for that.

the vn is split into two with a near side and far side.

while the near side is really good with arcueid and ciels route (ignore how ciel was actually really fucked over even in her own route its laughable and my girl deserved better) the far side is so much more better and really is where the soul of tsukihime and shiki the main character lies

i cba to review it properly besides saying PLEASE READ IT RN or ill cry and you dont wanna see that do you....

heres my ranking of the routes btw best to worse:

hisui

kohaku

akiha

arcueid

ciel

shoutout to satsuki you finally are gonna get the route you deserved

KAGETSU TOHYA

um it has some cool lore and some really good short stories and... yea thats about it...

dont have much else to add...

play it with a guide because the structure of the game is abysmal

FATE STAY NIGHT

what is there to be said about such a masterpiece? what else could be written about fsn that hasnt been written before? i am but an ant in the shadow of the giant that is FSN only seeking some crumbs to feed and live off of. idk what that means but it sounds cool.

FSN is simply tms best work all around. while i prefer tsuki over it and find the tsuki side of TM more interesting FSN overall is much stronger on most fronts but especially its main characters

Shirou emiya is simply the goat nothing else to be said tbh

heres my ranking of the routes:

issei route

heavens feel

ubw

fate

FATE ROUTE MUST BE REANIMATED RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SABER DESERVES TO HAVE A PROPER ADAPTATION RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

we need more medea and kuzuki holy shit are they cute

FATE HOLLOW ATARAXIA

thank you type moon for making a good kagetsu tohya. its actually impressive just how much better this is then KT like seriously what the fuck did they take to drop this banger of a vn

KT had such shit comedy i didnt even giggle throughout it but THIS

THIS is a emotional rollercoaster of a whole different kind.

introducing the third (arc and medea are first and second) love of my life Bazett and angra we go through an incredible main story intermingled with hilarious and wholesome slice of life scenes that never overstay their welcome

this vn completely changed my opinion on some characters especially illya who went from someone i was kinda 50/50 on to adoring her overall

ALSO MEDEA SCENES YES I WON MOTHERFUCKERS I WO- huh? whats that? fgo basically replaced her with medea lily?

one hour of sobbing later

if you have read fsn and not FHA then i must ask you.. wtf is wrong with you psycho? you like missing out on good things? that wouldnt be me is all im saying

read it.

(in case you're wondering yes there is someone i deliberately didnt mention because my opinion on them is too complicated)

TSUKIHIME REMAKE

im not a fan of remaking classics on the level of tsuki. with all its flaws i still find the original to be good enough to not need a remake...

UNTIL I READ THE REMAKE

this is how you do it folks. the story was elevated on nearly every level and if it was the complete story id say its the best ever in existence ever forever fr. its just that good.

there are three things i really want to point out:

while maybe goin overboard i really liked the buffs all the characters received and in general the whole worldbuilding is so much better now with idea bloods and principles and vampire hierarchies and arcueid inflation scenes (heh) its just epic

ciel got a so much better route that actually feels like a ciel route and not just arcueid route 2 electric bugaloo (and getting fucking cucked)

noel is peak

this is peak type moon and when red garden comes out it will be even BETTER especially with satsuki route because satsuki deserves it

there are some other short stories i havent mentioned like garden of avalon, notes, MAGNITUNING (look it up you wont regret it) its all great and worth the time of reading

eventually i wanna play CCC and read some other stuff like maybe prillya DDD, fgo jp like lb7 traum and whatnot

i just wrote this for fun so dont really take anything i say seriously except for the teeny little part where im inherently correct.

uh if you are reading like or share or whatever tf it was idk

ciao

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

Also a very minor throwaway part of that post but it annoys me so much that line “not sexist like the water tribe” like I cannot Stand when ppl act like the FN is actually superior in that regard bc they allow women on the frontlines of their imperial death machine … (tho ig it could fit w like. what you were talking about like how western countries like to brag about how they’re so much more progressive when they’re not- like ig the FN could try and spin things that way? but ugh)

(sorry, you don’t have to answer this i just got annoyed lol)

no i thought about this too because even if you see allowing women in the military as the pinnacle of equality, if you actually look there aren't many (if any at all) female soldiers when the gaang runs into fire nation troops in the earth kingdom, you mostly only see them in the fire nation domestic forces and as prison guards at boiling rock and iroh's prison. and they're wearing skimpy midriff-baring uniforms. the artbook even says that women make up a majority of the domestic forces. wow, there's absolutely no sexism in having women only in the domestic forces in special revealing uniforms. it totally means there's gender equality.

also everything about how azula and her girl squad conduct themselves speaks to how women learn to navigate sexist systems. all the other firebending threats are these brash, aggressive men (zhao, ozai, zuko), but azula schemes and plots and takes down ba sing se not with brute force, but by infiltrating in makeup and dresses, by taking advantage of people underestimating her. they really do stage a coup with the power of their gossip giggles! the pressure mai was under to be quiet and compliant, ty lee's cultivated cute and ditzy persona hiding how she can fuck you up, and azula's ability to scheme, all reflect how women in sexist societies are treated and cope with that treatment.

furthermore, i think water tribe sexism might be kind of overstated because we don't get much southern water tribe development. yes, sokka was sexist, the men of the tribe left to go to war and the women stayed behind, but in hama's flashbacks waterbenders of all genders are seen fighting the fire nation raids. kanna fled the north for the south - surely she wouldn't do that if she knew she'd be faced with exactly the same treatment. katara is totally surprised to find out that women aren't trained in combat waterbending. my guess is that while there were roles, they weren't nearly as rigid. sokka, having put all his eggs into the basket of "be the male warrior and protector while the men are gone" is perhaps taking this to a greater extreme than the average water tribe member, and he unlearns it pretty quick - almost as if it wasn't THAT entrenched, and it was more about his personal worldview than his cultural beliefs.

the main change i would make to atla is adding another episode between "the waterbending master" and "the siege of the north" where we get -

a) some insight into why the two water tribes have grown so different. i think likely the war had an impact on gender roles in both nations, with the north retreating from the world and becoming stagnant and traditionalist while the south had to have everyone fight out of necessity. maybe some flashbacks to life in the southern water tribe, a kanna appearance maybe.

b) an improved pakku storyline, where he's more sympathetic and interesting. if we're going to have him be katara's waterbending master and a member of the white lotus, he needs to be less of a jerk for no reason

c) aang learning healing from yagoda. we need to establish that the problem is gender roles, not that healing is an inferior form. maybe we see other men joining him in yagoda's class and women joining pakku's class, as he and katara learn from both of them. when they see pakku at ba sing se in the finale, he tells them that yagoda is at the white lotus camp too.

(and this scene happens offscreen)

d) some cute scenes of sokka & yue bonding

i think another water tribe centric episode would do a lot to make fandom less weird about things like this. it wouldn't entirely fix the problem - the problem is that we live in a racist society - but it would at least give us more canon evidence to refute it.