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the-broken-truth · 3 years ago

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Can I request i male reader who treats all of the lords and mother mranda like his own kids cause of his animal instincts? 🙍‍♂️🐾

(You can choose the sifter)

Broken (Chuckles): Hello, @imanewboi99 - back again to spoil me with delicious scenarios, are you? (Reads ask) A Shifter that treats The Lords & Mother Miranda like his children? Hm...I can imagine the Lords but the Lords see Mother Miranda as their mother...I'll make him Miranda's Lover - Hopefully that is good for you, my friend. As for Shifter Form... I'll make him a Caracal Cat; I like their ears and they have stubby little tails, plus cats are one of the animals I think will take in another animal's infant as their own. Now, let the words weave together!

Note: The Reader will be known as [Father].

🦇 [Alcina Dimitrescu] 🦇

When Alcina met [Father] during the Lord Meeting, she didn't like him for the simple fact he was a man but she was curious of the large feline ears he had in replacement for his human ears & they weren't just for show - he made that clear when Karl called Alcina 'Lady Super-Sized Bitch' during a Lord Meeting, causing the tall buff man to walk over to the 4th Lord and glare down at him.

His Response: "You will not refer to another Lord, your sister, and my daughter as a 'bitch' in my presence or the presence of your mother and siblings again, Karl Heisenberg or I show you the power I hold in a way you will not be fond of. Now, apologize to Alcina this minute."

When Karl didn't move fast enough, [Father] grabbed the German by his trench coat and held him high (Keep in mind that [Father] is around the same height as Alcina) with a glare on his face and snarl in his voice, "I SAID 'APOLOGIZE', YOU UNGRATEFUL BOY!'; Karl wheezed out an apology before the man placed in back on the pew, "And never...disrespect anyone of my children again, I wouldn't let any of them do it to you, Son." then he went to sit.

As time went on, [Father] would come to Castle Dimitrescu and repair any kind of structural damaging or ask Alcina if she needed anything to be delivered to the castle.

Alcina would say, "Father, you don't need to worry yourself with these petty issues."

But he would say, "As your father, I don't want my eldest daughter and granddaughters to be without. Please, let me be a good father and grandfather to you and my granddaughters, Alcina."

Alcina was touched and handed him a list of things she needed to be taken care of that no one else would do or couldn't do. Everything was done within a few hours.

When it comes to the daughters, [Father] loves them as a man would love his biological grandchildren.

He would come to the castle with gifts: A new book collection for Bela, Gadgets of Torment for Cassandra, or a new weapon for Daniela.

If the daughters were bored and had nothing to do, [Father] would turn into his Feline Form and let the daughters hunt him, but he was rather fast & which made the daughters have fun with the chase.

[Father] has a manor that is around the same size as Heisenberg's Factory and the daughters love to visit because the large man spoils them too much.

They would go every single weekend but one day, Alcina told them that they didn't need to go everything single weekend and to give [Father] some space. The daughters didn't like that and called their grandfather to complain and waited around the corner when Alcina received a call from [Father].

"Father, all I said was they don't need to be over there all of the time," Alcina explained.

"Alcina, don't say anything to me; you are lucky that I am 5 whiskey glasses in, otherwise I would come to get them myself. Call the carriage and bring me my granddaughters." He hung up after that.

Not wanting to disappoint her Father Figure, she called the carriage and delivered the daughters and she was given a case of fine wines to relax with while they were with him.

She may hate men - but [Father] was the only man-thing she would admit to caring about. Mother Miranda picked well.

🎎 [Donna Beneviento + Angie] 🎎

[Father] knew that Donna was timid & Angie was her way of communication - he didn't want to frighten her thus began their relationship with phone calls.

For the most time, he spoke to Angie and each conversation would with [Father] asking if Donna or Angie needed anything; yes, he considered Angie another person and not just a doll.

On the occasion that they did need something, he would go purchase what they needed and let it on the porch of Beneviento Manor, knocked on the door, and stepped away; he knew that Donna was scared of his height.

One day, he was delivering some Doll Parts Donna asked for, he did his normal routine and was about to leave when Angie called out and asked if he wanted to come in for tea. He accepted.

He shrunk himself to be a more acceptable height for Donna and the three of them had tea and conversation.

Donna became more adjusted to his presence and would call him herself - without Angie - and ask if they would have tea, make dolls together, or work in the garden together.

One day, he came with an eyepatch with the Crest of House Beneviento stitched into it as a way to cover the scar but not her whole face.

At the next meeting, she wore it.

Salvatore complimented her on it and she said 'Father made it for me.'

He smiled.

🐟 [Salvatore Moreau] 🐟

Salvatore was curious about [Father] but was too nervous to talk to him - thinking he was going to be mean or make fun of him his appearance. Imagine his surprise when [Father] wanted up to him and smiled before saying, 'Hello, Salvatore. It's nice to meet you, son.".

Salvatore looked at him with wide eyes - he thought of Salvatore as a son? He didn't make fun of him?

Salvatore and [Father] would talk whenever they saw each other at the Lord Meetings but one day, [Father] asked to spend a day with his son because he never got to learn about him.

Salvatore was nervous but agreed.

When [Father] arrived at Salvatore's Territory, he was displeased that his son was living in such poor conditions and he vowed to do something about it and his son's vomiting.

The two of them spent hours watching movies together and eating cheese & fish while Salvatore told [Father] everything about him.

One day, Salvatore was surprised to see his father building a new house on steady ground and told Salvatore that it was his new home because he was not gonna let his Lord and Son live in poor conditions like that. Salvatore was also informed that there was a new collection of movies for the two of them to enjoy.

They have movie nights every Wednesday and Sunday.

As for Salvatore's vomiting, [Father] was able to make an elixir that prevents vomiting but Sal has to drink it every month. It's bitter but he will do it regardless.

🛠 [Karl Heisenberg] 🛠

[Father] knew that Karl was still cross with him for embarrassing him before Mother Miranda and the Other Lords & no real father would want his son to be angry with him at every family get-together.

[Father] went to Karl's Factory with an apology but when he went inside, he saw his son running from a strange contraption with a large drill arm.

His Paternal Instincts kicked in and he charged at the creature, crushing its head in his hand before turning to his son to make sure he was alright.

Karl was angry to see him at first but he did thank him for saving his life before that thing turned him into a pin-cushion. He then asked [Father] what he was doing in his factory and the taller man said he didn't want any bad blood between the two of them and offered his services to his son.

Karl wasn't interested and first but he then realized that he could use [Father] to get inside information on Miranda so he agreed.

The two of them worked on projects, blueprints, or repairs for hours, enjoying each other conversation and presence.

[Father] asked the 4th Lord to be kinder to the other lords - he hated seeing his family argue and be bitter with each other.

Karl - while he never saw the others as his family - agreed to this for the sake of the only one he really respected and cared for.

Karl was still planning on making Miranda suffer for what she had done to him and the others...but...Did [Father] really deserve it?

This man - he had a heart of gold - but it was clear he suffered as well and this 'family' was the only thing that kept him together, kept him happy - Karl didn't want him to be unhappy.

What would destroying Miranda and this 'family' do to [Father]? Karl wondered but at the same time, he didn't want to know. This man was a father to him...what was he supposed to do?

🧪 [Mother Miranda + The Lords As A Whole] 🧪

Miranda would wake up to the smell of [Father]'s cooking and coffee every morning - he refused to let her start the daily research without a good meal and coffee, and she didn't object to this - the man made some delicious food.

One day - Miranda went to the meeting grounds and found the man cleaning, fixing pillars, and making individual thrones for the Lords, Mother Miranda, and himself. Reason: "My wife and children are not sitting on old ass furniture and possibly getting sick."

The Lords love their thrones - he even made one for Angie.

When an argument - mostly between Alcina and Karl - broke out, [Father] would roar for them to shut up and respect the Mother of All and each other.

"You are my children - not savages - and you will act like it or I shall show you how savages were treated where I came from!"

It would take Miranda's gentle hand to calm him when the children acted out of line.

When it came to the Cadou Experiments - [Father] would aid Miranda or his children without a second thought. Whatever they needed, he would get for them.

[Father] would try to have a family dinner with everyone at his manor once a week, just so the family could all be together.

As much as Miranda didn't want to admit it - she loved the dinners; it really felt as if she had a real family.

Maybe...when Eva was returned to her...they could be a family.

[End]

#Mother Miranda x Male Reader #Alcina Dimitrescu #Donna Beneviento #Salvatore Moreau #Karl Heisenberg #Resident Evil 8 #headcanon

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oh-boy-me · 4 years ago

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:0 could I have a beel,asmo,belphie,lucifer,mammon, satan (not including levi) and diavolo playing videogames? I thought it would be kinda funny since they're all really old- except for levi of course haha

Ohhh this should be fun!

Decided to do individual HCs for this one instead of a group thing so they wouldn’t be limited to multiplayer games.

Most of them, save for a certain prince, have been exposed to games a fair amount by proximity to Levi.

---

Lucifer:

Lucifer has a Mononoke Land account so that he’ll get the email notifications for events and can therefore keep track of Levi’s whereabouts. He’s never played the game, though, nor downloaded the app, and he has no intention of doing so.

In general, he’s not much of a gamer. The most gaming he gets done is minesweeper on Windows XP. He doesn’t have the time, and it was never something he could get into.

That isn’t to say that he owns zero games, though. His favorite genre is turn-based strategy, because he can afford to look away from them, and they make him think and plan.

He doesn’t like the hyper-realistic ones, though. Things like Civilization and Here Be Dragons are up his alley, Hearts of Iron not so much.

He doesn’t care too much about the story, but a good soundtrack is mandatory.

Also he’s an old man so the controls also have to be intuitive or he just won’t be able to play. Why is he jumping when he presses A he thought that was the attack button.

The type of player who needs to get every achievement. A completionist.

When the group gets together for the rare multiplayer night, he has no idea what he’s doing and yet still manages to do well. It’s kind of infuriating.

He won’t make alliances with anyone, no, it’s every man for himself. He also actively targets Mammon no matter what game they’re playing.

The fact that he doesn’t really get it protects his pride when Levi inevitably wipes the floor with him.

Mammon:

Mammon actually does game a little bit in his spare time, mostly with Levi. He’s got a couple consoles and is more open to different genres than Lucifer is.

He thrives in any game where the main goal is to rack up as many points or as much profit as possible. He’s undefeated in tycoons and pinball. (Tetris is an exception; he’s terrible at Tetris. Stupid spacial recognition.)

The RNG elements boil down to his insane luck, but he’s actually very smart when it comes to investments and stuff, so it’s not like he’s only using his luck to get by.

If the games have multiplayer, even better! Nothing like kicking Levi, MC and Belphie’s asses in a game of Fortune Street!

He also tends to like the action-focused games that Levi plays. Not so much into turn-based RPGs, but he enjoys stuff where the enemies spawn, like in Zelda or Rune Factory. And he’s great at button mashing in fighting games, although Levi, who actually knows how to play them, always beats him.

Mammon uses items as soon as he gets them, and is too busy rushing a boss to care about learning its patterns and strategizing.

Skips cutscenes even on his first run. Levi and Satan hate him for it.

Like mentioned before, he gets an unfair disadvantage in game nights because everyone targets him. Especially in those games with RNG, because otherwise he WILL win.

He’s banned from PTW games because he will indeed PTW.

Satan:

Satan is another one who doesn’t play too many games, and that might be for the best because he’s a nightmare to play with.

The sorest loser, and a pretty nasty winner too. He insists on the hardest difficulty and then rage quits at the slightest inconvenience.

He will play when prompted, though; he’s not above hanging out with his brothers. His favorite sorts of games are ones with a good story and/or good puzzles. His planning is more on the tactics side, as opposed to Lucifer’s strategy, so he would love Fire Emblem.

He WILL drop a game if the story isn’t holding his attention, and he’s done so in the past.

Overly cautious and hoards resources. He takes the safe route every time.

Also another completionist.

Beel would often ask Satan to help him find out which art pieces were originals and safe to buy in Animal Crossing, and Satan got a little bit interested and ended up making a resident on Beel’s cartridge so the donations could be in his name. He went on a mini-campaign to drive out the residents he didn’t like, but one of them turned out to be Beel's favorite and he felt terrible about it for weeks.

During family game nights, everyone is always torn between appeasing Satan and telling him to deal with it when he loses.

He also gets angry if he catches on to the fact that they’re letting him win, though.

Probably a genwunner.

Asmodeus:

Asmo enjoys video games. They don’t fit into his aesthetic so he’s never really tried to understand them, but he doesn’t dislike them by any means.

Gaming is becoming more mainstream though, right? That’s a whole new audience that could appreciate him. Maybe, just maybe, he can let himself be a bit of a geek.

Unsurprisingly, he’s got a penchant for games with customization options. Surprisingly, he also really enjoys FPS games. If he and Levi ever played at the same time, it would be chaos in the House of Lamentation.

As opposed to his in-your-face attitude, he likes to play sniper units.

He said he wants to tap into the gaming community, but he’s not very good at most of the games he plays so he’s too embarrassed to actually do so. He does, however, play the Sims on livestream. He does his best to make the steamiest and most dramatic scenarios happen, and he’ll hold strawpolls to let his viewers make some choices.

Asmo also plays Animal Crossing like a few other brothers, but his island is so well groomed and with just the right residents, it feels like you’re touring an uncanny dystopia and Asmo is the dictator.

When the group gets together, he usually ends up doing the worst. He’s more interested in executing perfect combos than actually dealing damage, so he’s not aggressive enough to get anything done against players like Levi and Satan.

He’s also not very good at teamwork; he starts yelling at his partner very quickly.

Beelzebub:

Beel doesn’t have a lot of “gamer” in him, but some of his brothers seem to like it so he decided to give it a go. Turns out his hands are too big, but he makes do. Kind of.

You’d expect a sports game to be the best for him, since he’s so athletic. However, it’s BECAUSE he’s so athletic that this sort of game isn’t in his library. He gets too antsy and bored tapping buttons instead of actually playing the sport.

Beel’s also not an aggressive player in any sense of the word. He feels guilty even hurting the most basic of slimes.

No, no games are better for Beel than the stress-free, casual life simulators. Animal Crossing is no surprise his favorite one right now. Satan handles the museum for him while Beel gets to do whatever he feels like in a world where the biggest threat is a wasp.

He’ll also play other low stakes games where living your life is the main goal, like Harvest Moon and Stardew Valley. His big heart can never choose who to marry in those games.

Horror is also ok for him, because while aggression is hard for him, self-defense is not.

He got the Cooking Mama app on his D.D.D. and bit the device in half, so he’s not allowed to touch that franchise anymore.

When the gang meets up, his non-aggressive side sticks around. In fighting games, he’s more likely to dodge and steer clear of the others, and in other versus games he’s so open to compromise you’d think you were on the same team.

Satan did get him his favorite resident back.

Belphegor:

Belphie probably games the second most after Levi; it’s something that keeps him entertained but doesn’t require him to move very much at all.

I actually have no idea how to describe his preferred genres, but League of Legends and Dark Souls is basically all you need to know.

League lets him socialize a bit, and it’s the game that he and Levi play together most often. As for Dark Souls, he loves the sort of game where learning your opponent’s every move and outsmarting/outmaneuvering them is the only path to victory.

I guess that would be described as “really hard action-adventure” games? He’d also like Sekiro.

He also has his own copy of Animal Crossing to visit and play with Beel, but his island is so underdeveloped you’d think he started that same week.

Belphie is the true wild card of family game nights; sometimes he sleeps through the whole thing, while other times he can take down even Levi.

He has everyone’s habits down to a T--Mammon charges in, Asmo does too much setup, Levi’s overconfident--and he knows how to counter each and every one of them.

For someone who’s so much of a cunning player, though, he also misclicks a lot.

He’s the most likely out of his brothers to make alliances. He’s also the most likely to break alliances.

If he doesn’t think he can win, he’ll choose a player and start sabotaging the game in their favor.

Diavolo:

Lord Diavolo had read about like, Mario? The little blue hedgehog guy? But he’d never owned a gaming console before. He probably thought Neopets was peak gaming.

Levi swore to fix this grievous error, and this was also a mistake, because now Diavolo keeps trying to get Lucifer to play all these hack and slash games with him.

He has legitimately told Lucifer that “if you don’t play Devil May Cry with me THIS devil may cry!”

The games need to always have something happening in them or he’ll get bored, kind of like Satan’s need for a good story, except with action.

It’s also worth mentioning that “play a game with Diavolo” actually means “sit in the same room as Diavolo while he plays.”

And oh boy… is he terrible at these games.

He just button mashes until either he dies or all the enemies die.

Never uses any of the items he gets because he’s sure he’ll need them more later on. When, Diavolo? During the staff roll?

Will bomb a door before trying the knob.

Since he’s usually only around Lucifer, who doesn’t want to get sucked into this, and Barbatos, who honestly couldn’t care less about this, he’s been left alone and free to develop these terrible gaming habits.

It’s rare that he comes to family gaming night. Legend has it that Lucifer’s piercing glare is somehow connected to the fact that his brothers always let Diavolo win.

Masterlist

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arsnovacadenza · 5 years ago

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So I finally played The Wolf Among Us

Being the big bad wolf fan that I am, I’d been dying to get my hands on the game after seeing images of Bigby floating around pinterest. Then I found out it was discounted around 50% yesterday and I knew I GOTTA have it.

Here’s a not-so-short rundown of my thoughts since no one’d read my full review anyway. Also, bear in mind that I never read the graphic novels so I’ll be judging the characters and plot solely on the first and (currently) only game. Spoilers under the cut!

The good:

Bigby. God I ENJOYED playing as him. There was great satisfaction being able to play this rough, potentially dangerous character and see him grow into this person that Fabletown finally grows to accept. During my first playthrough, I wasn’t able to play him as a brutal, full blown anti-hero because I need to keep him on the community’s good side. I’m definitely gonna replay the chapters and choose the more violent options and see him go full badass wolf on everyone. Speaking of badass, I constantly kept thinking to myself “Wow, I’d LOVE to play as him in an action game.” That one big fight scene against Bloody Mary made me go “You’re doing great, sweetie! Keep it up!”

The story definitely got me hooked. There wasn’t a time when I wished a speed button was available unlike Hashihime in the Old Book Town where I got bored during a sex scene.

It didn’t remind me of Happily N’ever After and its forced self-awareness that borders on annoying. Mini rant: I love when stories are set in a world where fairy tale characters meet and interact with each other, but that doesn’t mean every work that does it interests me because the handling of the theme may not quite work (for me at least). I haven’t rewatched Shrek, but I never rolled my eyes every time they make a joke about a fairytale character. I never watched Once Upon a Time but I feel it’s gonna be a pretty mixed bag? It’s just weird seeing all these adult characters taking the whole thing seriously and not in an endearingly self-aware kind of way. The Wolf Among Us kinda did it nicely in that yeah, these were fairy tale characters. Let’s see them work their way as poor people living in New York. I like how they take on the poverty angle because it kinda reminds me of my country, sorta.

To my surprise, the fight scenes DID IT for me. It’s satisfying to be able to beat the shit outta people I wanted to punch from the very beginning of the game (the Tweedles and Mary. Boy I wanted to see them banged up real badly). To be honest, I never played these Telltale games and I had my doubts about the combat mechanics. Turns out they were done pretty well. Also, I can’t shut up about the final brawl against Mary because....Big Bad Boi.

The meh:

Most of the character designs didn’t wow me. I could name the characters whose design I liked: Bigby, Georgie, Flycatcher, Bluebeard. The rest? Not so much. Some characters like Nerissa were a hit-or-miss while the rest are predictable (Bufkin, Crane, etc) or completely forgettable (Faith and Vivian’s design. Faith’s was at least memorable because her introduction was). The worst one, to me, was Bloody freakin’ Mary. Her design was simply underwhelming. I absolutely adored her true form, but her glamored form was simply...not there. I understand they don’t want to play the edgy up to eleven which was probably why they didn’t make her tattoo-ed up like Georgie (which is a shame because her emblem has a cool design. Imagine the cool tattoos she could’ve had), but her design was just half-assed (to me anyway). Not gonna lie, I actually was hooked up by her first appearance —a tough looking enemy with big butch energy —and then she opened her mouth and she sounds like fucking Bayonetta. This is probably just my personal taste, but I hate the femme fatale villain trope to death and I hate seeing this masculine lady sounding like a generic seductive villainess. Plus, I didn’t see her much during my playthrough so she ended up NOT coming across a real threat or a worthy opponent to Bigby, just a violent bully I need to get through.

The love interest character’s development was a mixed bag. I didn’t hate Snow White (like some people seem to do), but I was disappointed that she drifted away from Bigby before she gets the chance to solidify herself as his equal and partner. I know she marries him in the graphic novels, but I didn’t quite root for them to be together in the game. Mostly because of the boss-employee dynamic they had towards the end of the game, but it’s also because I also started to see how she didn’t grow to be somebody who understands Bigby and the plight of the non-human characters of Fabletown (case in point being Mr. Toad and TJ). She keeps saying that she does understand what life is like for people like Holly and I did sympathize with her when she talks to Bigby about her wanting to make Fabletown a better place, but the plot cuts her development once she has to act as Deputy Major in Crane’s place. She eventually becomes affixed as a cog in the machine. Sure, she’s needed to keep the system running, but her insisting on going by the (outdated) book just didn’t work I kept getting reminded of Louis from Beastars and how got his character development was. In Louis’ case, he started out as an covert bigot who strongarms his way to obtain authority, thinking he’d be able to make the world a better place. He does make good out of it, but we also see him coming to terms with his vulnerability which leads him to reach out towards other people with the same goals. Simply put, he changed from a know-it-all who wants to change the world so they’d suit his own views better to someone who genuinely wants to make a difference for other people. This....kinda doesn’t happen with Snow White. It’s probably because the POV (who stays on Bigby the entire time) or they’re saving her character development for the sequel; we can’t really tell until Season 2 comes out.

Speaking of which, how does being a giant, fearsome wolf in disguise reflect on Bigby’s relationship with other animal characters like Mr. Toad? I thought there was some potential in contrasting Mr Toad’s inability to afford glamor and Bigby having his lycantrophy knife handed to him by Snow. I imagine the animal townsfolk would take jabs at him having the privilege to remain constantly human without having to constantly return to the 13th floor but it never happened.

The resolution of the Crooked Man’s plot felt rushed and I was disappointed with how they handled the organized crime plot. It was built to be a grand scheme beyond Crane and the murder of the girls, but they resolved it way too quickly. It’s probably just me, but when you have organized crime and financial exploitation by (persumedly) a mafia, do you expect the villain to have their ass handed back to them in two chapters after their buildup?I mean, during Bigby and Crooked Man’s confrontation at the factory, I kept expecting the Crooked Man to make his escape after the battle against Mary — him being immediately dragged to court was anti-climatic. Does it really take that short a time to take down a big, magical mafia boss? Shouldn’t he have other witches at his beck and call (the secret lab at Johann’s place definitely hinted at that!)

I won’t refute if somebody brings up the lack of diversity in the entire cast. As far as I know, there was only one black person and they didn’t do anything with her character. I thought It would be nice if we get to see POC characters like Aladdin or Yeh-Shen (or replace Aladdin with Sinbad or Ali Baba if we want to go for total accuracy). It doesn’t help that the predominantly white characters look generic. Heck, some of the girls could have some variety in body shapes. For example, why not make Holly be a big beautiful woman? If you don’t want to make her morbidly obese, at least make her look heavier. You know, because she’s a troll. No, her wanting to look beautiful by concealing her troll form doesn’t work. Her wanting to be her own kind of beautiful (especially according to Troll standards) can be contrasted nicely to Lily having to wear her human skin because she needs to cater to her clientele, thus further emphasizing her lack of choice in her employment to Guido (and by extent the Crooked Man).

How long has it been since the exodus? Why is the Fabletown government still this terrible? I really want to be able to see the demographic at a bigger scope. For example, I’d like to see more of the dynamic between people like Bluebeard and the people at the Business Office. Also, what’s up with people with various problems going straight up to the Business Office? Do they not have accountants? How do they handle the legal stuff with the mundies? Who’s handling legal? The organization at the Business Office is just...weird. I thought they’d have some sort of higher council since I thought they’d need a bigger power to keep more powerful magic beings (like the witches) in place. Are things done better in the graphic novel?

Some of the animation lagged/look really janky on my Envy 13 laptop. Also, I encountered a bug at the beginning of some chapters where choices show up when they don’t need to, as well as some weird cuts during scene. Had to exit and reboot the game to proceed.

That’s all I can think of now. Feel free to send an ask so we can gush about the husbando material that is Bigby Wolf if you have other opinions!

#the wolf among us #snow white (twau)#bigby wolf #the crooked man (twau)#twau spoilers #the wolf among us spoilers #by the way hashihime isn't that bad check it out if you like lgbtq+ visual novels #or just yaoi #because it still handles stuff like consent issues wrong #also #where is red riding hood #is she going to be a boss or something #like jeanne was to bayonetta in the first game?

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whoopsivehadalotofsex · 6 years ago

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Fine! Lets talk about the sex party! Except I’m just going to have to get into the play-by-play without justifying it, but first:

1. It’s not like I’m against sex spaces (and this isn’t my first go around, so that’s why this story isn’t racked with anxiety or shame necessarily), I just don’t appreciate the sex party vibe of like people mechanically fucking over folding chairs in a dusty warehouse in bad lighting. Not my aesthetic. Though I heard about this mysterious place in park slope that has parties a few times a month that’s set up with a maze of like beds, and slings and couches.

2. I’ve being doing things lately, but just a lot of “fooling around” or me topping. It happens! Still, it’s been a while since I’ve been absolutely slammed. So that’s the mood: let’s go to this sex party and get absolutely slammed.

So I get there, strip down to my jockstrap, and decide to keep a tanktop on just to see where the vibe goes (a cute look). I have on black boots too, because I guess I’m being strereotypical. The place is kind of divided with fabric curtains and bathroom-stall like dividers. Unlike a bathhouse, the sex isn’t squirreled away in rooms, but unlike a more barebones sex party it’s not like, i don’t know, on some folding table for everyone to see. There’s also a main room with with a bed with latex sheets, two slings in corners, and like this little cubby hole bed.

The crowd is really mixed with a good spectrum of age, races and body types. There’s some hunks there for sure, but the whole thing isn’t overwhelming with a “If you don’t have a six pack, don’t bother” vibe. I’m confidant something is going to happen. I kind of wander around for a little bit, let some drinks settle in, and take appraisal of the scene. You stumble across sex constantly, so after watching some stuff go down you kind of become numb to it. People watch stuff, but it’s not intensely voyeruestic.

Eventually a daddy approaches me in the more open room. He starts groping me, and then blowing me a little bit. Suddenly another daddy appears to kind of audit the experience. I am not totally sure if they knew eachother, or second daddy saw first daddy and thought “Well, if he’s into him, he’ll be into me.” Second daddy sort of remains texture to the situation, touching and rubbing from the side, then any sort of focus. Both these man are completely unremarkable in their white middle-ageness. Not fat, not skinny, not muscley, not too old but old enough to be “daddy,” not smooth, not too hairy. The kind of man I wouldn’t probably think twice about or go out of my way to have sex with, unless they, well, really make it obvious they want it and take charge, a situation facilitated well by a sex party. Plus, isn’t that a little bit of the thrill of this all? Though, I’m not really sure what the attitude towards condoms was going to be, but daddy one is down to use one. Historically, my best use for daddy dick is getting me out of a sexual (or at least bottom) slump, so why not?

Belly down on the bed with the rubber sheets I got, and daddy one goes to work. Daddy 2 kind of watches, but disappears eventually. I’m not mad about that. Daddy 1 is the better looking one. He likes some verbal “You like when daddy fucks you? You like that daddy cock?” stuff, which I always kind of ridiculous even in a bit of a haze of vodka and poppers, but, yeah, I do like that daddy cock right now and I want daddy to fuck me harder. He does. We go at it for a while. Eventually I, kind of surprisingly, cum, and he’s done too, and there’s that pat goodbye and he goes back into the night, and I think home.

I probably should have too. I got what I came for, but maybe a little earlier than I expected. Maybe rushing back into the real world would make some sort of shame settle in faster or something. So I decide to stay. I kind of feel initiated into it all now too. This is a sex party. I’ve had sex. I’m a part of the sex party.

In fact, maybe that high of the radical possibilities of some truly free and shameless sex community explains the next one. Maybe the poppers are getting to me, but after walking around a little bit, I’m feeling like this is some radical little sex tribe and it’s totally fine to have sex with anyone here as long as there’s consent. We’re a sex family. This is truly insane, but I’m feeling the fantasy enough for me to wind up back in the bigger room to find it kind of empty. I plop down on the couch, decide to relubricate myself (jesus christ that sentence), when some beefy, muscly guy comes in, make eye contact, and as soon as we ascertain we’re both done, he’s like instantly inside of me as I bed over the couch. I’m just in the moment concentrating on the sensation. My state of mind if kind of unreal. It’s like the guy isn’t even an individual, but rather some spirit of the sex party who has come to overtake me and ravage me. I hate that the phrase “I am but a hole” sir, but it entered me mind right now so be it. It feels like it lasts as long as it needed to, as in not short enough for me to be disappointed, but not long enough for me to think “Ok, but what the fuck am I doing?”

Again, I think I’m probably ready to go home, but I’m not eager to rush back and settle into reality just yet. Amazingly I haven’t sucked a dick all night, and I think to myself, “Well, maybe I’ll just suck one dick, but if not no biggy, just settle down.”

The funny thing about the main room is that you can kind of get your space. Some of the more packed crevices and cubby holes in this place seem to invite the possibility that random hands and dicks just can come flying at you even as your engaged with someone else. It seems intense, and I guess instinctually I’ve staid away. There was one little section, surrounded by partitions and chain link fencing shrouded in semi-transparent fabric that literally seemed like a fuck factory. Everytime I walked by it seemed like there were at leas two bottoms bending over on these padded benches with two tops going to work and other people intermingling in. Even doing what I’ve just done, maybe not for me.

Though the entire place isn’t empty yet, it has thinned out. The fuck factory is ground to a halt. People are still milling about. One bottom is in there like ass up, I guess waiting for whoever to come by. For whatever reason, I decide to just go in and plop down.

Well, in walks that cute little twunk and this gorgeous, tall black top. Top asks twunk if he has a boyfriend, he says they do, but obviously they’re open. They start touching, and I’m just like “Umm, I’m right here and you two are basically about to hook up right on top me.” They acknowledge that with there eyes and seem cavalierly cool with that, so I guess I’m cool with that?

Twunk starts sucking off cock for a bit, and then he literally takes the dick out of his mouth, basically hands it to me, and is like “You want some?”

Sexual tribe! Sexual freedom! Spirit of the sex party!

So of course I do, but I still can’t fully accept that I’m part of this hookup now. I was not ready for the fuck factory! It’s too much for me -- someone who just got fucked on the couch simply because I made eye contact with someone!

I give the dick back after a little bit like I was borrowing it. Like someone ordered a cocktail and said “You want a taste?”

But then twunk bends over and this two start fucking in a way where I’m basically half-entangled in, and in any event they’ve trapped me in a corner. I start rubbing twinks chest, and I kind of want to make out with him and touch his butt more, except the angle is too weird. Mostly though I am suddenly yearning to get fucked by this top too. I am totally fine with it not happening. I don’t think it will. This twunk is gorgeous and I am me, and I’ve had two dicks that night already. We’re already into all time sluttiness records here, and I’m out of a haze enough to have that realized.

Though, of course twunk is done and goes off. There’s a moment where I’m not sure whats happening. I get up to leave, and pat top on the chest almost as a “thanks for letting me suck your dick.” Of course, thirty seconds later he has me back on all fours.

Ohhh girl, this dick was divine. Thick and hard. Confident and pounding, but not trying to overpower you on purpose. Attentive to your signals and comfort, but still letting you know he’s in control. I am not caught up in the power of the sex party or the utilitarian sluttiness of “well, I’ve got to get fucked, don’t I?” I am caught up in this dick and this dick only. This is the last dick I could have for months, and I’d think I’d be fine.

After that, of course, I was finally ready to go home.

I’m a little hesistant to share this story (although, who knows, maybe it means some crazier stories from before for you all too), but don’t think I’m personally feeling bad about it. I woke up the next morning and immediately jacked off to thinking about it, and then three more times that day (breaking another recent record for sure).

I’m certainly not rushing back to that place every chance I get, but, hey it’s on the menu now.

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the-firebird69 · 2 years ago

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And it is like this it's a story about Isabella and Catherine and Arthur that she's told and Isabella is Ellie in the future and it's the same person Catherine is Queen Elizabeth in the future in the same person and Arthur is King Arthur which was my husband's character but it was shared between three or four people. Those three or four people are going to Duke it out until they're gone especially after we post this. But the location is important because that's where King Arthur ruled from and the family crest that you see that we use is that of King Arthur Pendragon and here you see Sherry who is the clone more or less of Queen Elizabeth researching it and Stan is there and he's posing is King Arthur which he was not and my daddy was not it was John remillard and several others Mike too and and then one that people won't guess Tommy f. And he was a bear back then he took control and he had us banished and thought we were dead but we weren't really human and it has a story also about Catherine and her offspring one of them was a baby and one was an infection and it was Queen Elizabeth the infection was removed and she was fine but in the future she had two babies one was Lily which is a real baby no but she was put in there and when is Emily and people don't know too much about Emily and the calling her and infection because it was the actual daughter of Mr bone and Queen Elizabeth and Mr bone is that's right Garth Myers. So why does this have to do with anything it was planned that's why. And pretty soon Queen amidala will depose Donald Trump as Chancellor of the galactic Empire Senate and that's what it's called and it's not because my husband post the inquiry no it is in large part and it is because she hates him and she's got some sort of half-ass crush on my husband but they're kind of friends more so they're both young and Sherry is Young and stand in their oppressed as hell and these old folks don't seem to remember anything anyways. But it's going forward right now the galactic center is doing a formal inquiry into Trump's dealings and into the clone attack on bja and also on his own and they're investigation has come up with many facts which were not present in the community and they are getting out and Trump is under severe duress and he'll be arrested many many times now and shortly Star wars begins The phantom menace to remove him from office permanently and it's going to start there and it's going to go to every single post that they hold the commission was set up yesterday well last night and they began work this morning and they found about 50 things right away that they didn't like and people are submitting pictures and eyewitness testimony and they had captured people in the interrogated them and they had brought in some trumpsters who knew about it and they talked and witnesses who know they are and scans and everything

Hera Zues

It says wow but it is stemming from his request but Mac Daddy had to put it in writing for anything to happen or nothing would have happened

Thor Freya

We're pleased with our son's performance and our daughter and what's happening now is bone-chillingly awesome it's a reminder and some Churches were destroyed and you're looking at an archway from one and they are amazing places built with amazing people and amazing hands they're very skilled Craftsman and our son and daughter become massively skilled and this stuff becomes more and more beautiful and refined as they build more and more and I'm end in the past and it comes to life the whole plan we are evacuating our people from everywhere and we are taking factories rapidly huge ones and his plan worked I lay down area and we clean them out and we set it up and we move it and we loaded up and we start working and we set up bases around it and his idea worked on that as well it's huge because it's time consuming waiting for every night and some people know and it's actually a way to get smart people this is huge what's happening this huge today they did Dumb and dumber and they did also cesario and they did not say so and they are flying the money up and it goes up there this afternoon and right now it's still only about 2:00 in the Pacific time but the money is being loaded and it's going to be up there they'll be caught and returned to the plane and flown and no escape and gas it up and go to Vegas all before dark and by the time everything is wrapped up down there in Vegas it's dark and tomorrow muto attacks and the money moves to Alabama and yes Dumb and dumber occurred today too but it was only the first leg and the money is going back over there from Europe and that's why Sherry is out there and tomorrow morning I will also be the document from Utah. And our son said it I put the money away on purpose because I figured out what they're doing and I thought I hit it pretty good and it's not to be removed but someone found it with a scan and I tried to make it look kind of ubiquitous so you don't try and shield it and sometimes when you scan stuff you can't tell what it is if it's rolled up it looks like something else sometimes but you know I guess money is money so it's kind of funny the way I put the pickles is much better idea people saying yeah that's a better idea it looks like crap but the money looks like money rolled up but nobody saw it cuz they couldn't scan it's an indicator when they can get away with scanning and who does it and it wasn't Mac and it wasn't John rima Lord it was Tommy f

Thor Freya

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shinra-makonoid · 3 years ago

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@shoujoboy-restart

I’m not going to answer to the already very long post my answer comes from but for people wondering it’s about this: https://shoujoboy-restart.tumblr.com/post/658047262328569856/op-racism-existing-is-black-peoples-fault-me-i

I don’t think the OP is right, but I don’t think pining the whole thing on today’s white people, because they’re white, is anything else than recooked racism too.

That doesn’t apply for like... 99% of white people.

Again, doesn’t apply to 99% of white people.

By that stupid mindset France and every country of Europe should prosecute every German person because we all have family who was hurt, deported or even tortured by nazis not even a hundred years from now. Better yet, we should prosecute all French people because Napoleon marched down Europe to invade every country he could. No no even better, we should make it so that all the Arabs get prosecuted for all the torture, slavery and hurt they did to black people in Africa.

What is the fucking point. Forgive, don’t forgive, who cares, this is meaningless, these are feelings dead or tortured people don’t care about, it’s like “thoughts and prayers”, we say “Oh yes I deeply regret the things I never took a part in” and then what? Makes you feel better? What does it accomplish really? No-fucking-thing. Unless you wanna bring full communism to redistribute all the resources among all races, sexes, sexual orientation etc, you won’t be able to make it balanced or repair the shit that was done before. It’s the very left leaning guy who’s telling you that.

People still dead and hurt. The people who are here now are not the people who tortured, enslaved and killed minorities. We should only bring justice to the ones who are still doing it today.

It’s also not racist to consider you don’t owe anything to any race and it’s not racist to consider everyone the same way. “You have a long way to go before you can be forgiven in history” no I fucking don’t, none of us does, we’re not responsible for what happened in the past on things we had no control over. We are born a certain skin color that is shared by people that did horrible thing, so what? It’s like when TERFs claim all males are evil. It’s fucking bullshit. If you consider males don’t have to answer for the crimes of other males, then you should not consider white people have to answer for the crimes of other white people. You’re not responsible for the rape of a random female in the street, or for the institution of Islamic countries in which marrying little girls and raping them is accepted. Well, we ain’t responsible for slavery or torture of people either, never were never will unless we actually enslave or torture someone.

And you can’t solve it with this post either or blaming all white people for shit they didn’t do either. Europe managed to pass the absolute horror that came from WW2, in which they literally had factories to kill people (mindblowing when you think about it). Everybody in France knows someone who has been in the resistance or that has been deported, or has protected Jews, or shit like that. We still grieve, and we still commemorate the people who were lost from that, but we don’t get on hating Germans for that reason. It’s pointless (surely some people do but they’re real dumbasses). This whole fucking post is pointless, disappointing and you’ll claim it’s racism when it’s just that you behaved like an ass and people disliked it because you told them they participated in horrible things they didn’t actually participated in.

And ffs you know I disliked the post a lot when I answered in such a way to the cute twink I like to follow on tumblr. :(((

#long post #discourse

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official-portugal · 7 years ago

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A (long ass) guide to become a Friendly Tourist ™ in Lisbon

You know, I complain a lot about tourists and all and last night it got me thinking that there might be people out there reading these and wanting to visit Lisbon but feel self-conscious so I want to make one thing clear: we don’t hate tourists, we hate tourism as a phenomenon and the way it’s being dealt with. We also don’t hate tourists, we hate assholes. So I decided to put together a guide on how to become a friendly tourist in Lisbon.

- If you can, avoid AirBnB, although I understand for you guys it might be cheaper that way. But if you pick an Air BnB, chances are the home you’re staying in belonged to someone who got kicked out so you could stay there. So be fucking respectful. Don’t come home drunk at 3AM, don’t make any fucking noise at night. There might be children right upstairs and old people downstairs, so don’t do anything you wouldn’t want others to do to you. There are neighbors in that fucking building, people who have to go to work, so be fucking respectful.

- Be fucking nice to every worker you come across. In Portugal, whether you’re at the checkout or having your order being taken by the waitress, when these workers approach you, you’re supposed to greet them. Say “good morning”, “good evening”, or just plain “hello”. Also, finish with please, always. If you don’t, I guarantee you, you won’t be treated differently because these people can’t risk their jobs, but you’ll be labeled a cunt. Like, it costs zero. You don’t just come up to someone and say “TWO COFFEES PLEASE”. AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT SAY GRACIAS.

- Don’t fucking expect people to speak your language, but they will fucking try, so don’t be a cunt about it. Here’s the thing: in the public schooling system, the average portuguese learns two languages. We are taught french and english and the majority of kids even takes a third language in high school. We understand spanish and italian enough to communicate. So we understand what you’re saying, but it doesn’t mean we can speak it. But are you really demanding that we, who already speak 3 languages, speak yours as well you fucking dildo? Also, by “we” I mean naturally the youngest generation. Older people? Not so much. People working in tourism offices are making an effort, they know way more than you and they’re not there to cater to your needs. If you see them struggling with your language, help them. Also, if you disrespect them while you’re asking for directions, I can assure you they’ll give you the wrong advice out of spite, and you deserved it.

- We’re not a tipping kind of country but: we appreciate tips. What I am saying is, any tip is extra money, so it’s welcomed, but we are not culturally taught to monetarily award someone for their good services, instead we praise them. If you do come from a country that tips a lot, you should know we don’t have a “tipping rule”. Even if you leave just a couple of coins, it’s appreciated. But if you don’t come from a tipping kind of country, don’t feel obligated to do it. What you can do is praise their work. Thank them for their kind service. Tell them they’ve made your experience better. That means a fucking lot when you work in tourism because usually yall just see us as punching bags.

- There’s a difference between Pastel de Natal and Pastel de Belém. Both are custard tarts, both have different recipes. The first one, the Nata, can be found in literally any café. The second, the Pastel de Belém, can only be found in their official factory in Belém, across the street from Jerónimos. When you get there, you will see that the queue is super fucking long but don’t worry, they’re used to it and they have an efficient system. I promise you won’t be there for longer then like, 7 minutes.

- Canned sardines are not traditional. I don’t know who came up with this bullshit but I can guarantee you it’s just marketing. Sardines ARE traditional, just NOT canned. Canned sardines were the cheap, canned food the poorest of the poor ate back during the dictatorship. Usually, a whole can was shared by a family. So it kinda makes me offended that a symbol of poverty is trending, but aigh. The sardines we do eat traditionally are roasted outside on a cooker, sort of like a barbecue. THOSE are traditional. (By the way, you want to eat THE ABSOLUTE BEST, take the ferry across the river and pick a restaurant in Cacilhas, I guarantee you that’s the best place to eat sardines).

- Just because you can see the fucking Christ right across the river, it doesn’t mean it’s right there and that you can just get there. I can’t believe I had to explain this several times to tourists, but that Christ is standing on a fucking cliff. You can take the ferry, sure, but it won’t take you there, like, this is basic knowledge, I’d assume. There’s a service that cost 20€ and lasts for 2h and it stops there for a long time, if you’re one to complain about it a lot, take that. If you don’t mind grabbing your own ass and going there yourself, take the ferry and then take the 101 Bus, last stop.

- There are three ways to get to Belém: tram, train and bus. And yes, by foot is too fucking far. Like, 1h walk far. All of them will be super fucking crowded. You might get luckier with the buses, since for some reason tourists seem to avoid them. The queue in Cais do Sodré is going to be too fucking long, and I honestly do not care one fucking second that it’s an inconvenience for your vacation because we, who depend on it to go to work, take 2h for it as well. The tram is going to be crowded and it's going to take you some 45 minutes to get there on a very bad day. Live with it. That’s the reality of the city, and this is a reality YOU created by coming here en masse, not us. So don’t fucking complain that we don’t cater to your needs because, remember, your inconvenienced holiday means hundreds of portuguese people are getting late for work and taking 4h a day in public transportation. So again, I do not give one flying fuck.

- Tram 28 is a public transportation not meant for you. You, as a tourist, fucked it up, keep that in mind. If you want to ride the traditional trams, there’s a touristic service made specifically for you that works as a hop on hop off and it does a wider route than 28. My advice is take that one, it has no thieves and you can sit down, and it’s two different routes (green tram and red tram). But if you do want to take the public one, then my advice is: take the 12 instead. If you want to get on 28, begin the route from the starting point at Estrela. It will be calmer there. If you want to go to the castle, then no, the tram isn’t the only way. Bus number 727 stops right at its door and it’s usually super empty. Take that one.

- Saint Geroge’s Castle is completely fake. Not a fucking stone in there is real. There are real ruins there, of course, but they aren’t even of a castle, they’re of an “Alcazaba”, an administrative center back when the moors were in portugal. That’s why the neighborhood next to it is called “mouraria” - the moorish neighborhood. Yes, there was a castle there from the 14th century onwards, but very little was left of that. The whole thing you’re seeing? Completely rebuilt in the 20th century. It’s even fascist propaganda in a way.

- Tuk Tuk drivers don’t know shit of what they’re talking about. The chances of them making shit up for you are like, way higher than you can imagine. You can’t comprehend the bullshit I’ve caught them telling tourists, like the Lisbon Cathedral is from the 19th century. They’re not tour guides, they’re fucking drivers. The info they’re giving you is generic and easily obtained. they’re speaking to you as a portuguese person who knows their traditions, but they don’t usually know shit about history and art because they’re not required to. So if you get on a Tuk Tuk, keep that in mind and don’t demand too much from the driver. And also, chances are they’re bullshitting you. I know one Tuk Tuk driver who is an Art History graduate and masters degree and is a great tour guide, since he’s someone I trust a lot with the history of the city, so if you really want to get on one and be real about it, hit me up and I’ll hook you up with him.

- Don’t make a fuss about the supposed “drug dealers” selling weed in broad daylight in Baixa. First of all, literally everyone in the city except you, tourists, know that what they’re selling is not drugs, it’s bay leaf squished into a powder, and I have to give it to them, their scheme is pretty fucking brilliant because it’s prompted tourists to go to the police and complain that “the drugs this guy sold me aren’t real” lmao. But this is a situation that again partly resulted out of mass tourism. So shut the fuck up because I know damn well it would take me one day to find out where I could get high in your country. And also, me as a citizen can’t do shit about it (BECAUSE THOSE AREN’T DRUGS LOL).

- Don’t be fucking unpleasant about the homeless and the beggars. Fucking really? There’s a high level of poverty in here. We’ve been saying for years but if you choose to believe your Time Out articles, then that’s not my fault. But be fucking respectful. Life isn’t cheap here, and we’re having it hard.

- Please understand, once and for all, that Fado is pretty normalized. Like, it’s fucking everywhere. Every goddamn souvenir shop you’ll walk into, it’s gonna be playing fado. Restaurants, cafés, a fucking cab, same thing. I know it’s been sold as the traditional song of the people, poor and desolate living in the streets of Alfama, but that’s not it anymore. It’s been classified as World Intangible Heritage which means an incredible effort is being made to preserve it, WHICH MEANS the amount of Fado singers has increased incredibly. So there is no “real fado experience” anymore. The real fado experience is either a) a concert, or b) a dimly lit restaurant with a guitar player and a lesser known singer.

- Be careful how much you’re being charged by the taxi drivers. If possible, don’t take a cab at the airport. If you’re moving from point A to point B WITHIN the city, you shouldn’t be paying over 10€. The starting fee is NOT 20€, it’s 3,90€. There’s a little extra added if you call a cab (instead of finding one on the streets) or take it at night. If you can, install the app My TaxiApp, the drivers there are pretty honest. Or use Uber.

- Don’t get on the Hop On Hop Off buses. Personally, I can’t see what’s so appealing about these, but there are a lot of reasons why in Lisbon they don’t particularly work: 1) traffic. You’re gonna be stuck in traffic, it doesn’t matter what time of the day you got on. 2) The waiting period. It shouldn’t take more than 30 minutes for a new bus to come by, but with traffic, we don’t know, and I certainly can’t predict it, since I don’t have a fucking GPS in me. 3) The bus that goes to the Castle is much, much smaller and it fills up way quicker because double-decker buses don’t fucking fit those narrow streets. So chances are you’re gonna be there for a while waiting because they’ll keep coming full. Not my fucking problem. Take a walk instead. There’s a touristic bus called Caravel on Wheels which would be my advice for you. I worked for them, it’s a 1h45 long video tour. The audio is very well put together and explains the history of Lisbon incredibly well, and it has a shit ton of languages, and you can just ignore the goddamn video, trust me. The assistants are super nice and sweet and the driver is amazing. We made a huge effort to make sure you wouldn’t forget that experience, trust me. Also, it allows you to see the most important parts of the city and then decide what you want to see by yourself.

- Don’t disrespect the monuments. Don’t paint on walls. Don’t spit on fountains. Don’t lean on statues, don’t get close to statues, don’t even breathe on statues. Don’t fucking touch the paintings, the artworks, any fucking thing you find inside a museum. It sounds ludicrous that I have to point this out but you wouldn’t believe what I’ve seen.

- Mouraria, Alfama and Martim Moniz aren’t just the most traditional parts of Lisbon, they’re some of the most multicultural and poorest too. So don’t be a fucking racist asshole. There are indian, chinese, and sikh, among others, communities in there, including “illegal” mosques and chinese restaurants. Don’t be unpleasant to the locals. Don’t be disrespectful to the people who live there. The thing about the portuguese is we love tourists, we’re welcoming like that, IF you are nice. These people are happy to welcome you to their neighborhood, trust me, they are, but you gotta be respectful.

- Avoid eating at Rua dos Correeiros. If you don’t know what street that is, it’s the only one in the entire fucking Lisbon where every fucking restaurant will have a guy holding a menu approaching you and BEGGING you to eat there, and I mean every single one. Most of those restaurants are most likely schemes and one in particular, Made in Correeiros, has made the news for convincing tourists to come in while holding a menu where they show prices ranging from 10 to 20€ and then inside suggest something that is at the end of the menu (but they will make sure you won’t see it) and it turns out a dish of salmon costs 500€. That whole street is made of shit like that and not a single one of them is traditional in the least, don’t let them convince you they are because they have a bitoque and bacalhau à brás, those are dishes that any portuguese with half a brain can cook, so walk away.

- Don’t be fucking rude to the bus drivers, and I mean every bus driver, whether it’s touristic bus or city bus, cause they are not required to speak your fucking language. There are a million different tourist offices where you can ask for help. Have your money ready when you enter the bus or recharge your Viva card at the subway. A bus fare is 1,80€ within any point in the city.

- And don’t be fucking rude to the vendors. They don’t control traffic. Especially resellers who don’t represent one company but rather sell several companies, don’t yell at them. They don’t control traffic and they don’t control the bus routes. Explain to them you are disappointed by the service and they will take a note and I can guarantee you they will inform the company about the delay/problem and will exchange your money. They don’t think any less of you and they understand you, as long as you’re nice about it.

- And don’t complain to them the city is disappointing! I don’t give a rat’s ass that Barcelona was more beautiful, go to fucking Barcelona and shut up.

- Don’t walk around with 100€ bills. Use 50€ bills for large purchases only. Most vendors aren’t even allowed to accept 100€ due to couterfit problems. Exchange your money at the appropriate place. Don’t fucking buy 3€ worth of fridge magnets with a 100€ bill like I’ve witnissed, come on. That’s common sense.

- Things that ARE good, traditional souvenirs: porcelain magnets with sardines, tiles, bits of history and the black swallows you see everywhere. Bottles of wine, especially Port, too. Tawny being the best brand. Make sure it’s from Porto/Douro. The bags of salt if they come from Aveiro, otherwise I wouldn’t trust it. The famous red, green, blue or black scarves you see with floral motifs and fringes I guess can be considered traditional too, but be aware that 1) they’re mostly cheap imitations (the realest ones are really expensive) and 2) they’re traditional from way up north like, above Porto even. That’s a part of a very traditional outfit of a very specific region, linked to very specific traditions. Small portuguese guitars are pretty cute. Avoid the cork shit. Cork used to be our main export, now it isn’t and most of that crap I don’t even think it’s made here, it’s just a brand, but someone correct me if I’m wrong. Although the cork postcards are cute. Little stuff like notebooks, postcards and bookmarkers with Fado on it is cute too. A Vida Portuguesa is a store you’ll come across in Baixa that sells shit that looks cute and Art Neauveu-sy that recreates old stuff from the 40s and 50s.

- Things that aren’t traditional at all: canned sardines. Anything being sold on the streets. Certainly not the peruvian CDs on Terreiro do Passo.

- No, you won’t find random postmarks on the streets where you can slip in your postcards. There are a few, but are very scarce. There’s a post office in Restauradores, use that. You can usually buy stamps at any souvenir-looking shop or anything store that says “Casa da Sorte”.

- The green card you use for transportation is good for everything but you need to charge it either with money for all or in the appropriate machines that will give you the specific ticket you’re looking for.

- If you walk inside ANY restaurant or whatever and ask for a cup of coffee, this is what you’ll get. If you want a larger coffee a bit watered down, ask for an abatanado. Or go to Starbucks. A garoto is a strong espresso with a bit of milk, served in an espresso cup. A galão is basically the same, but in a taller glass that will, for 99% of the time, look like this, and the milk is stirred until it forms foam, like a cappuccino without the chocolate. So be specific about what you want. Our coffee is very strong. Ask the waiters, they’re used to the confusion, don’t worry.

- Here’s an important thing to you if you’re stopping by during a cruise: no, you can’t fucking visit the whole city in one day. The city is way bigger than you’re thinking it is. You can’t see it all in 5h. So pick wisely. Here’s how to pick it: Oriente is the modern part of the city, the main attraction is the Aquarium (Oceanário). Belém is the historical part, where most of the main monuments are. Downtown Lisbon is the place you can walk to and discover by foot. If you’re strict on mobility, a Tuk Tuk is the perfect choice.

- Maybe this is kind of asking too much out of a tourist, but it would be great if you had any fucking clue what Lisbon even has. Don’t just stand in Rossio looking puzzled and ask me where the famous tiles are. You should at least know you’re thinking of fucking Porto, which is some 300km away. The worst question you can ask touristic vendors is “so what can you do in this city?” bitch I don’t know. Make your goddamn research. You like art? Here’s a list: Berardo Museum (contemporary). Museu Nacional de Arte Antiga (from 14th to the 18th century and colonial art). Azulejo museum (those famous blue tiles). MAAT (contemporary art, also a nice overview of the city). Gulbenkian (antiquity to the 19th century and also a modern art center, a beautiful museum with amazing gardens). The Fado Museum. You want history? Here’s another list: anything in Belém, you don’t have to pay for the tickets even, the tower is not that interesting anyway and you can visit the church of Jerónimos for free, it’s the whole monastery complex you have to pay for. Church of São Roque for the prime example of baroque. The Lisbon cathedral. The Church of Saint Vincent. Estrela Basilica. Ajuda Palace. I don’t know what else, at the top of my head, these are probably the most important.

- The train to Sintra is in Rossio train station, which is NOT physically connected to the subway station. Stop asking me.

- Sintra, Cabo da Roca and Queluz are outside of Lisbon. Yes, you have to get on a train. I don’t care if it’s an inconvenience, I didn’t fucking build it.

- No, the beaches are not exactly in Lisbon. The ones that kinda are, you go to Cais do Sodré, you get on a train and get off at Oeiras or something. Ask someone there. The other ones are around Sintra or across the river. If you want to go across the river to Caparica, there’s a service that costs 10€, picks you up in the morning, takes you back in the afternoon. If you think that’s expensive and decide to go there on your own, then be prepared to pay a lot more and have the worst bus ride of your life. I’ve been riding TST buses my whole life, you have no idea the shit hole they are. Pay for quality, it’s worth it.

- No, you can’t get to Freeport by bus. It will take you too long and cost you a fortune. Pay 10€ for the shuttle. It’s way less than any other means.

- No, you can’t take a cab to Fátima. It’s 127km. Also, don’t take the train there. The train station is 30km away from the city. Take a bus. Rede Expresso is your friend. You can charge your fucking phone in that bus! Also you have wifi.

- Yes, you can walk around holding a cup or a bottle of beer on the streets, nobody cares. Just don’t litter. Throw that fucking thing in the garbage, don’t be a pig.

- No, the guys wearing a black outfit with a cape are not celebrating Hogwarts. That’s a joke someone started that caught on. I never actually thought people would believe it, yet here we are. They’re just university students getting drunk lmao. If you want cheap booze, follow them.

- Just overall be kind, don’t bump into people on the streets, don’t stall, smile and say thank you and good morning/evening/whatever. Remember: say obrigado if you’re a man, obrigada if you’re a woman. We don’t care that your portuguese is shit, we love that you tried and that you ask how we say things. We also don’t care that you’re actually speaking brasilian portuguese. We love that you went through the effort.

- Portuguese people greet with a kiss on each cheek. A handshake is something more business-like. If you don’t like being touched, stay away and wave, we’ll get the message. But if you happen to meet an old lady, then you’re on your own, your cheeks are getting pinched, I can’t save you.

- We’re also incredibly loud. No, we’re not constantly fighting, we’re brutes towards each other. That’s how we show love. Don’t make a point of it.

- But remember: this city isn’t the hip, cheap, hot-spot you’ve been sold. It will look like that if you just wander around Baixa and Alfama and Mouraria, where mostly students and foreigners are. But that is not the reality. The “tradition” you’ve been sold, that supposedly lives in Alfama, practically doesn’t exist anymore. Any story that says “traditional” in it, I can guarantee you is not. The best restaurants are the corner tascas that smell of cooked potatoes and grilled beef. If the owner of a restaurant is fat, the restaurant is good, trust me this is a mnemonic that works. ‘

- Don’t act superior, don’t act like you know this city better because you’ve been here before or because you have portuguese friends. Or because you read this post lmao. Certainly, don’t walk up to tourist vendors and try to convince them YOU know more about traditions in their country than they do, like I’ve had people do with me. Cause you don’t lmao.

Add anything you might think is necessary and sorry for the long ass post

#long post

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officialjkhogan · 7 years ago

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STRAY: Chapter Eight

by J.K. Hogan

Noah’s stomach cramped with hunger as he tapped the glass touchpad that controlled the holographic display. He was using the library’s public data-deck to take a practice test for his level twos. If he got the grades he thought he would, he might be able to escape his almost certain future of working in a factory or a plant, and instead become an engineer. Level two proficiencies were the highest level of education for everyday citizens—doctors, for instance, went on to level threes. Noah knew from his history lessons that back in the days of brick-and-mortar schools, level twos were referred to as “university.”

He sipped bitter coffee that someone had left sitting on the machine, obviously having forgotten about it while it was being filled. Gods, he was hungry. He hadn’t made many sales at the Bazaar last Tuesday, and a couple of his regular customers had stopped coming around, so he had literally five dollars to his name at the moment. He just had to manage not to starve to death before he took the tests, then he could get a decent job and find an actual place to live and, like, food and stuff.

At least he had a current roof over his head, as undesirable as it was. And crashing with Cousin Tom was definitely undesirable. Being a dealer meant that Tom had a revolving door for customers at any time of the day or night, and they were always eyeballing Noah real creepy-like. Sometimes even Tom did. Noah had gotten used to living with the hunted feeling, that need to constantly be on his guard and look over his shoulder. He always felt like there was someone just around the corner, waiting to grab him—be it Tom’s addict friends, stalkers on the street like that one time years ago when the blond guy saved him, or even goons from his parents’ church-cult, deciding they were going to force him to join after all. He’d never, ever felt at ease. Well, only once. With that guy. Whose name, irritatingly, he couldn’t ever seem to remember.

Noah had been avoiding going back to Tom’s, because the way the man looked at him had been making him increasingly uncomfortable. Sure, they were family—at least, he thought they were. He’d only met Tom after his parents had dumped him. They ran in the same circles, and Tom approached him one day, saying that he was the son of Emmy Cowan’s estranged brother. Noah had been so desperate for any kind of connection to another human being that he hadn’t questioned it. Still, occasionally Tom’s stare became sort of possessive, and even…predatory. Sometimes.

Noah scored nearly perfect on the practice test before his hunger started making him lightheaded. He had two more days until the Bazaar opened again, but he’d starve before then. He had no other choice but to back home—not that it was his home—and find someone to blow for a twenty. There were always some tweaked-out druggie closet-cases around to hit up. They consumed more when they got off, so it was lucrative for both Noah and Tim. As much as he hated doing it, Noah refused to let himself feel ashamed. It was survival, pure and simple.

As he walked home later, Noah passed by Sanctuary just like he did every time he went to the library. And each time, he remembered the masked man who suggested there might be a job for Noah inside. Hell, the guy probably just wanted Noah to come in because he thought he was pretty. It had been a nice fantasy, but Noah didn’t believe a word of it. It was rare for businesses to have enough capital to employ an in-house engineer to keep their tech up and running. Still, every time Noah walked by, he wondered if he’d given up before he even tried.

Tom lived in a ramshackle house on the edge of a former residential district that hadn’t survived the last purge. No one had bothered to claim the land and redevelop, so people like Tom and his ilk had colonized it, squatting in buildings in various stages of disrepair. The front door rocked on its hinges as Noah swung it open to reveal stained tan carpeting and puke green walls that were peeling enough to expose the sheetrock beneath the paint. The sickly sweet smell of ganja was a physical cloud in the hallway, so Noah followed it into the dark den with its blackout curtains and psychedelic tapestries.

Tom lounged on the threadbare couch with two men who were obviously sampling the wares, and a woman was asleep—or unconscious—in the recliner that hadn’t reclined since they’d found it on the side of the road. Tom looked over and gave him an oily grin.

“Eyy, Noah, my dude! Have you been at the fuckin’ library this whole time?”

With a sigh, Noah half sat, half fell into the only empty chair left. “Yep. Killed my practice test though. I’ll be ready for my level twos. I only came home because…I got hungry.”

Tom took a sip of his lager and eyed Noah for a moment, before jerking his chin at the guy to his left. “I’m sure Adam here can help you out.”

Noah’s stomach rebelled, and he had to swallow down the urge to vomit air—because that’s all he had in his stomach—but a guy had to eat. At least Adam was somewhat attractive, built like a tank, with a razor-sharp jawline and a crooked nose, but he also looked like he could get mean with very little provocation.

“My cuz here needs some work to make a little extra cash,” Tom said to Adam. Some kind of silent communication must have happened to inform Adam just exactly what kind of work Tom meant, because Adam gave Noah a long onceover and licked his lips.

Fuck. The guy was definitely down for it, and Noah should be happy because he would get to eat but, fuck. Noah stood up and headed for the door, looking over his shoulder and raising a brow until Adam got the picture and followed him. As he climbed the stairs, with Adam’s fingers brushing the top of his ass, Noah hated himself just a little bit more.

****

Tonight I am a creature. A man but not a man. Who dreams of nothing but murder.

****

Tuesday, the Bazaar was swamped. Noah sold half the inventory he’d brought from the crypt, and he should have been flying high on the accomplishment, his full belly, and the wad of cash in his pocket, but he was just…numb. All he could think of was the feeling of Adam’s beefy hands on his skull, pulling his hair, and Noah wondered why he did it.

He had no one. No family, not really, no real friends, only people who seemed to want to use him, so why the hell did he fight so hard not to starve. Why didn’t he save himself the trouble, and his jaw the strain, and just go fall off a bridge somewhere.

Shaking his head, he stuffed his remaining tech into his duffel. How fucking melodramatic. He’d never been suicidal…not really. Honestly, he’d always felt like there was something just offstage, waiting in the wings, something that he was meant to do but couldn’t quite see the full picture yet. Some days it was the only thing that kept him from knotting sheets together.

He piled up his boxes and crates behind an old food stand from the bygone days of the amusement park and hoped no one would steal them before next Tuesday. The back of his neck prickled as he bent to pick up his duffel, so he spun around and scanned the almost empty Bazaar. There was no one near. No one, except for a big white cat.

This time, the coincidence of seeing the cat again made Noah’s hair stand on end. He was half convinced he’d been hallucinating the creature this whole time. His fingers clenched on the leather strap of his bag, but he tried to act like he wasn’t afraid he was losing his mind.

“Hey, there, um…cat. I don’t know how you keep finding me. In fact, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m seeing things. I’m surprised you haven’t gone home by now. Hell, I’m surprised you’re still alive.” Noah scrubbed his hands over his face, then shook his head. “I’m surprised I’m still talking to a gods-be-damned cat.”

The creature meowed, then slinked over and wove its way between and around Noah’s legs, leaving long white hairs all over his jeans. He brushed off the denim-myolene blend and glared at the cat. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

The cat purred and let out another plaintive moan.

“Ugh… I know that look too well. You’re hungry, yeah? All right, then, follow me. Today, we eat like princes.”

Eating like princes for Noah meant one of the mobile kitchens that frequented the park. He ordered some falafel, with curry chicken and rice, and hauled it all over to a picnic table. He sat down on the table part, while bracing his feet on the bench. Inexplicably, the cat followed him like it thought it was people. With a sigh, Noah spread out a napkin and spooned some chicken onto it for the cat, who eagerly wolfed it down, snarling a little as it chewed.

“Easy, killer,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t choke. Damn, you must’ve been starving. Been there, pal. Hey, at least you found a generous benefactor to keep you in curry, and you didn’t even have to blow anybody to get money.”

As if it understood, the cat froze. It stopped eating and stared at him, blinking slowly. It sat back on its haunches, ignoring the food, and waited, as if it expected him to continue. Embarrassed about talking to a cat, Noah gave an agitated wave of his hand.

“It’s nothing. When you’re homeless, you do what you need to do to get by. Every day I see people who are way worse off than me, so I try not to complain.”

The cat padded closer, curling up and pressing against the side of Noah’s thigh, purring. Noah stroked its back, running his fingers through the soft fur, and felt the knobby bumps of its spine as it arched up to chase his touch. Looking down at the cat, Noah noticed something he’d never seen before—a flash of black on the inside of its ear.

“Hey, what’s this?” he asked, as if the cat was going to answer him. He swiped a finger along the pink, paper-thin skin of the cat’s inner ear. It was ink. A tattoo. He knew that animals were often tattooed with ID numbers by shelters, or even their owners, but this marking was unusual. It was a glyph of a small, five-pointed crown. Beneath it, letters spelled out a word he didn’t recognize. “I wonder what this means. Basti.”

When he said it, the cat whipped his head around to stare up at him, and it let a garbled little growl. It sounded so disgruntled that Noah had to laugh. Obviously at some point, someone had cared about this cat enough to mark it, but he’d seen it on the streets too many times for it to be anything other than a stray.

“Is that your name, then? Basti? It’s cute.”

The cat narrowed its eyes, exhaled sharply through its nose, then mewed and went back to the curry chicken. That, apparently, was that.

While Basti inhaled his food, Noah ate at a more sedate pace, savoring the feeling of, for once, not being hungry. He looked at the cat, who in turn watched him. It was lithe and willowy, but not skinny. Its bones didn’t protrude past its thick coat, so it had to be fed with some regularity.

“I wonder where you normally get your food,” Noah said before he could quell the impulse. He sighed, setting down his now-empty food carton. “I know I must seem like some freaky stranger who speaks to you as if you were human, in a language you couldn’t possibly understand but…I don’t have many people—or animals, I guess—in my life, so I just can’t help myself. You’re safe.” Noah didn’t know if he meant that the cat was safe for him to talk to, or that the cat was safe with him. Maybe both.

“I have to go home. It will be dark soon.” The last place he wanted to be was Tom’s, but it wasn’t safe on the streets at night. “You should go on back to wherever you normally sleep and eat. Trust me, where I’m going isn’t anywhere you want to be.”

Noah tossed their trash into a nearby agri-dump receptacle, and set off west, toward Tom’s. The cat jumped down from the picnic table and followed. Noah sighed heavily, because with his work done and his belly finally full, all he wanted to do was lie down on his lumpy mattress and sleep for a week.

“Shoo! Get out of here! Trust me, you don’t want to go where I’m going.”

Basti grumbled and sat back on his haunches. As Noah continued through the rapidly darkening park, he pretended he didn’t know the precocious feline was still following him.

#gay romance #gay fantasy #m/m romance #m/m fantasy #m/m paranormal #m/m dystopian #stray #chapter #writing #m/m paranormal romance

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kdinthecity · 7 years ago

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Zutara Week 2017: Confessions of a Teenage Sugar Queen

The title is a throwback to a movie I liked when I was in high school, so that is the voice I’ve chosen for this AU. (Not Lindsay Lohan’s from the movie, just me trying to channel my inner teenage Katara...)

All of my @zutaraweek submissions will be part of one continuous story. Get ready for some slow-burn Zutara angst starting with Day One: Fire Lady.

“I can’t wait until summer!” A blur of orange brushes past me in the school hallway. “I’m gonna go hang gliding and kite surfing and eat ice cream for breakfast and donuts for lunch!”

That would be Aang. He lives with his head in the clouds on most days.

“Let me guess. Cream puffs for dinner, Twinkletoes?”

Toph is pretty solid for a freshman. She keeps Aang grounded when he starts to get too flighty. I like hanging out with them, but sometimes their immaturity annoys me. I can tell this is one of those moments. No one can eat dessert all day. Talk about a serious sugar crash.

“What about you, Sugar Queen?” Toph asks.

I don’t know why she calls me that. OK, maybe I suggested once that I could survive solely on fudgsicles and moon pies, but that was only after that bad breakup with Jet. Toph elbows me hard in the ribs, her usual gesture for getting my attention.

“Oww! I have plans this summer, alright? I can’t just goof off. I’m going to get a job and do something that matters for my future!” I hate how haughty that sounds, but I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. I hurry past them before I say anything I might regret.

“Geez, what’s with her?” Toph mutters. Aang sighs airily in response.

They just don’t get it.

I’m the only sophomore to participate in the school’s summer internship fair this year. My brother calls me crazy. Well, I think he’s crazy because as a junior, it’s his last opportunity to gain this experience for college applications. Yet, he’s blowing it off to go fishing in Alaska with Dad. Maybe Sokka will end up taking over the family business, but I know he’d rather pursue engineering than commercial fishing.

The truth is, Dad cannot provide for our college tuition with his income. Sokka doesn’t think about these things, but I do. I’m getting an internship this summer so I can help pay for stuff like clothes and school lunches. And then hopefully I’ll get a scholarship for a top tier school like Atlas University. I will not be a burden to anyone.

“But what do you mean I can’t get any of the paid internships?” I am nearly in tears as I approach Principal Pakku.

“I’m sorry, Katara, but you’re under the legal working age. You can apply for one of the volunteer positions.”

“I’m a hard worker! And a straight A student!” I want to add that I’d do a better job than half the junior class.

He folds his arms across his chest. “Rules are rules.”

The pale blue of his suit starts to blur in my vision, and my bottom lip trembles, but I refuse to cry in front of this man. “But I'm turning 16 this summer!” My birthday is actually at the end of August. Had I not gone to Montessori kindergarten, I would be an entire grade younger according to the age cutoff for public school.

Ms. Yugoda, the school nurse, senses my distress. “Katara, sweetheart, it will still look good on your college applications, and it will help you land a top notch internship for next year. You still have time.”

“But, I need… the experience.” I will not beg for money.

“There’s nothing I can do.” Principal Pakku claps his hands and rubs them together as if that settles the matter. “I’ll put in a good word for you. How about… the zoo?”

I brush the back of my sleeve across dampened cheeks and stomp my foot. “I do not want to be scooping up ostrich-horse shit all summer!”

The principal’s expression is scolding, but I can’t stand the look of pity Ms. Yugoda is giving me right now. Before I have a chance to apologize for my outburst, Ty Lee sweeps in from the adjoining door that leads to the nurse’s office.

She hooks a bandaged arm through my elbow and escorts me out into the hallway. “What’s an ostrich horse? Sounds… magical!”

Her high-pitched giggle grates on my last nerve. An ostrich horse happens to be an imaginary animal from this fictional world I created. Sometimes I write about characters with amazing abilities to bend the elements. For me, I've always wanted to control water—like command the waves, summon the tides. My earliest memories are of Mom at the beach, so…

“Katara?” The knitted brow and slight frown look out of place on Ty Lee.

“Sorry.”

“You can always join the circus with me!”

“Right.”

I should have asked her what happened to her arm, but apparently I am too self-absorbed today to care about my friends.

“The Marine Science Center has a few openings. Here, take a brochure and see if anything interests you. We are a non-profit organization, so we can’t pay our interns unfortunately, but sometimes our students come back to work for us after they graduate.” The woman has an almost ethereal look about her.

“So… I wouldn’t be cleaning up seal sh—poop? I mean, it’s OK. I just don’t want to do that the whole time.” I cringe, but she smiles.

“No, no. That’s not really a valuable learning experience, is it? I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Yue.”

“Katara. Nice to meet you.”

“So, we have a position that works with the medical staff. Most of the marine animals we treat are sick or injured, so we nurse them back to health, tag them, and set them free. Another position studies the water, looking for contaminants and identifying potential threats, like factory pollution, for example. Then, you can work on a government petition to shut those facilities down or enforce environmental safety regulations. And lastly, we have a group that goes to schools, summer camps, and museums to talk about all these things.”

I skim my fingers across the panels of the tri-fold brochure as she speaks. Rehabilitate. Advocate. Educate. I always swore I would never go into fishing, but this is different. I care about the environment. I even organized a beach cleanup day as a community service event for the honor society. (This is how I know the juniors are lazy dipshits.) And I want to be either a professor or a doctor when I grow up, so the experience would be relevant. I take an application, give her my best smile, and express my sincere interest in the positions.

I sign up for a few other things before deciding I’m done. There isn’t much interest in the unpaid internships, and my eyes are drawn to the crowd on the other side of the gym. The largest group gathers at the table for Future Fire Technology. I've heard quite a bit about the company because the CEO’s daughter is in the honor’s track with me. Azula talks nonstop about how the former weapons company has rebranded and now manufactures cutting edge robotics. I couldn’t care less.

Azula will undoubtedly secure a position at her father’s company for the summer. She’s ambitious like that. Her brother, Zuko, will likely work there, too. He strikes me as different somehow—not really the corporate type. He’s not one of the half-assed juniors, though. He’s still pretty intense. I’m a little intrigued by him, but Sokka warns me to leave him be. Well, Sokka can’t tell me who I can and cannot talk to… I just wish I could get up the nerve to… oh monkeyfeathers!

“There aren’t many sophomores here, y’know,” a voice rasps. Zuko is standing right here. Talking to me. Sokka says he never talks to anyone.

“I, uhhh…” I want to slap my forehead for being such a blubbering idiot.

“I saw you at the Marine Science Center table. Sounds cool, huh?”

He was… watching me? The pink that rises to his cheeks would indicate that yes... yes, he was. I'm dying to ask about that mysterious scar across his left eye, but I guess that won’t make the best first impression.

“Katara,” I say.

“What?” he asks, his single brow raised in confusion.

“I’m Katara.” I hold out my hand like a dork.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Zuko.”

We are now shaking hands. Like dorks.

“And yes.” I clear my throat. “The Marine Science Center looks cool. I hope I get it.”

The results are posted the following week. With everyone crowded around the bulletin board outside the gym, it feels like we’re clamoring to see who’s made the basketball team or the cheerleading squad. I’m the only sophomore and of average height, so it takes me a while to wiggle my way to the front so I can see.

There are three names listed for the Marine Science Center.

Me! I got the position I wanted!

Then, Hahn. I don’t really know him, only that Sokka hates him, which should be interesting.

And… Zuko?

I scan the crowd for his unmistakable face, but he’s nowhere to be found. I can’t help but notice the red-clad crew off to the right, however. Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai are all on our school’s beach volleyball team. Either they just came from practice, are headed to a game, or just want an excuse to wear their uniform. Two seniors, Ruon Jion and Chan, hover nearby, enjoying the view. Ty Lee offers a shy wave when she catches my eye.

“Congrats to the newest Future Fire Lady!” Azula salutes Mai.

The dark-haired girl simply huffs. “But Zuko won’t be there. He got some stupid job at a water park.”

I fight the urge to march right up to her and emphasize how respectable and meaningful the Marine Science Center internship is, but the look on Ty Lee’s face stops me. Her bottom lip protrudes in a full-on pout, and I remember that she told me about Mai’s childhood crush. Apparently it is one-sided, and everyone wishes she would just get over it. Mai's scowl confirms that I should let it go.

“Of course Father wouldn’t give him a job after the equipment malfunction last year.” Everything Azula says comes out like a sneer. “He’s such a disgrace to the family. We need someone who is competent and level-headed in the company, Mai. Not lovesick and forlorn. Should I retract my recommendation I made to Father?”

Even though she’s shaking her head, I swear I hear Mai mumble bitch under her breath. For some reason, I am mesmerized by the exchange. The crowd finally thins out as everyone heads to class. With only two weeks left of school, the summer will be here before we know it. And I will be nursing injured seals back to health with Zuko?

Toph nudges me with her elbow. “Hey Sugar Queen. Watch your back, will ya?”

“What? Why?”

She’s gone before I can ask what the hell she’s talking about.

Chapter Two: Underwater | Chapter Three: Steamy

Chapter Four: The Fall

#zutara week #zutara week 2017 #zkweek #zkweek2017

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toonben · 7 years ago

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Why The Emoji Movie Sucks

*insert very pissed off and raging emoji giving a middle finger and wants to kill himself here*

*Contains SPOILERS, but you ain’t seeing the film unless you’re one of the few who will bother to see it*

Yes, I’ve seen this movie. It was the worst waste of an hour and a half of my life I’ll never get back. At least I have some valid excuse to watch Ice Age: Collision Course. The Emoji Movie feels like a blatant feature-length commercial for smartphones, masquerading as animated family entertainment. This is a perfect example of everything wrong with animated films since the early 2000s.

The movie has a heavy amount of product placement for smartphone apps from Facebook to Youtube. It panders to millennials who spent too much time playing on their smartphone and the movie is made for them rather than everyone else. The whole plot involves the main characters going to Dropbox to escape the smartphone. They pit stop at various apps including Candy Crush (a rip-off of Sugar Rush from Wreck-It Ralph) and Just Dance (can you play this on the smartphone). The Instagram scene is kinda cool when the emojis travel the frozen 3D photo, but it’s still product plug.

The story feels like 99 cent version of Inside Out, Wreck-It Ralph, and The Lego Movie combined. It has the done-to-death “be yourself” message that was done better in several other animated films. It takes place in a generic emoji version of the city. The script feels like manufactured by a machine using cliches and conventions rather than artistically crafted by talented writers. Inner workings of a computer or technology is an interesting idea, but you can find better portrayals of it in Wreck-It Ralph. The fact is that the arcade game, human mind or body, and Legos are good playgrounds to make a movie out of it because it provides imagination and creativity. Whereas, emojis don’t have a story to tell as they are just tools for communication. The subplot involving the parents came off as dull. Like Inside Out and Osmosis Jones, the other part of the story takes place outside, covering the human subject’s life. I don’t give a shit about that part of the story because it’s generic ‘boy has a crush on a girl at school’ plot with a boy who lacks personality and the girl who is just there as the plot objective. In addition, the kid probably got her phone number and is still being a chicken on talking to her You can find better plots like this in anime or anywhere else. In contrast, Riley’s side of the story in Inside Out is relatable as it involves her adjusting to her new life after moving.

Gene feels like a stock protagonist who is a mish-mash of Wreck-It Ralph and Emmett. He had a derivative character arc of finding himself and learning to accept who he is. High-5 is a grating supporting character who spouts unfunny jokes. Jailbreak came across as the poor man’s Wyldstyle and a token love interest for Gene. The twist involving her as the lost princess is a rip-off of Vanellope. They even made fun of princess tropes including singing to summon birds. That was done better in Shrek even if it started a wave of pop-culture heavy and colorful animated comedies. At least, Wreck-It Ralph didn’t satire princess troupes. The rest of the characters were stock villains or annoying side characters. TJ Miller is a funny actor who is entertaining in supporting roles. He tried his best. But for the most part, he is doing this for a paycheck along with everyone else. Patrick Stewart is wasted as he is stuck being the center for poop jokes. It proves that Big Hero 6 is only good thing Maya Rudolph has in her animated feature resume. Christina Aguilera hasn’t done anything worth in animated films since Mulan.

Aside from a few mildly amusing moments, this movie is not funny. The humor ranges from juvenile, predictable, to cringe-worthy. The script is plagued with lame dialogue. It uses hip jokes to pander to the kids. They used the lame hashtag jokes, even if it takes place in the computer world. The worst joke is when the bots are distracted by using cute kitten video, which came across as vomiting cloying. Yet, the Poop Emoji is used as the center for toilet humor and not even the Star Trek reference is funny.

The movie gets technology wrong as the filmmaking didn’t bother to do thorough research and wrote the script in a day. They reach piracy app where they meet Trojan horses and spam (is the kid’s phone infected?). It got internet trolls really wrong because they are portrayed as a virus. What the fuck! They aren’t computer viruses, they are actual people who are dickheads wasting their time fucking with other people. I view them as smartphone malware rather than trolls. The kid is a dumb ass by scheduling to wipe out his phone by going the store because it sent the wrong emoji and it’s making sounds. Dude, do you know that you can do factory resets anywhere? It’s a cheap way to raise the stakes in the story. Since when the hell did smartphones have a firewall? When the kid is 99% done with resetting his phone and finds out it sent Gene’s animated emoji, he just unplugs it and the phone goes back normal. If it were real, it would have damaged the phone. This is the definition of movie magic saving the day.

The animation looks okay, but nothing amazing. It has colorful backgrounds and some good-looking scenery. It’s one of the few reasons why it’s better than Norm of the North and Foodfight.

After watching the Emoji Movie, my life feels like a fucking joke. It’s an atrocious and soul-crushing experience that has everything I didn’t like about modern animated films with its half-assed premise, juvenile humor, pandering to its target audience, and overuse of pop music. Sony Pictures Animation seems to have potential as an animation studio to make fun animated films, But this film is a massive taint in their catalog that will hurt their reputation in a long run. I love animated films, but Emoji Movie is one of the all-time worst animated films along the ranks of Norm of the North, Foodfight, Doogal, Troll in Central Park, and those animated Titanic films. Don’t watch this movie just to hate it because you’re wasting your time and money. Your life will be better if you don’t watch it. Leave it up to the reviewers to watch it just to tear this movie apart. Fuck this movie!

Rating: F

#the emoji movie #my thoughts #movie review

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knightofbalance-13 · 7 years ago

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It’s Only Homophobic If I Don’t Like It/All LGBT People Must Think Like ME!

https://rwbycrit.tumblr.com/post/163790412947/speaking-over-lgbt-people-totally-okay-sarcasm

AKA Double Standard the post.

oh boy is there a lot to dissect in this one. first, hey dude, are you lgbt in any way, shape, or form? at all? if not, shut the fuck up

1. Actually, yes I am. I occupy a weird space between heterosexual and demisexual to my neurological condition. So you’re first point is immediately invalidated. And in fact, due to your accusations, your entire post either falls because of this...or you yourself are homophobic.

2. Yeah....and yet when Dudeblade does this later, you don’t call it out at all. You let it go even though, by your logic, he’s doing the exact same thing as me. But since it’s what you want, it’s not homophobic. so screw any LGBT people who didn’t agree with you huh?

there isâ€¦. a lot of casual homophobia here. 1. â€œyou peopleâ€ 2. â€œbitching about every straight coupleâ€ 3. â€œscreeching homophobiaâ€ like. slow down, dude. the post has only just begun and youâ€™re being homophobic.

Yeah...except that I call out Dudeblade in the exact same manner as this person, group him in with the “you people” and talk about him with the others and in fact most of my ange ron him...and he’s straight. Now what do they actually have in common? Being RWDE posters. So either you’re an idiot or you are willfully misrepresenting what I say.

there you go with that "you peopleâ€ bs again. 1. calling the lgbt community â€œtoxicâ€ is literal homophobic rhetoric. 2. you say blame rt like itâ€™s not their faultâ€¦. are they not to blame for making the conscious decision to not include even one (1) lgbt character in 5 years/4 volumes lmao?

1. Look at the point above: You just look homophobic for thinking that the LGBT community is a hivemind.

2. Did they ever SAY when the character was coming? No? Then they don’t have a deadline to meet ergo they can take their sweet ass time doing it, as creators are entitled to do.

1. itâ€™s been five (5) years, my dude. weâ€™re way past â€œnot immediately. 2. lgbt characters are not something lgbt viewers should have to sit and wait for, or â€â€œdeserveâ€â€œ (in I believe Montyâ€™s wordsâ€). they are not prizes.

And you are not LGBT viewers: You are RWDE viewers which is not wholely made of LGBT people. Funny how most of your arguments fall apart by looking at the context huh?

this is so homophobic lmao i canâ€™t believe im reading it with my own two fucking eyes. 1. â€œeveryone blames the lgbt communityâ€ everyone does that anyway 2. â€œyou are that insecure about yourselves that everything must mirror youâ€ youâ€™re the one witting a fucking essay about how shows donâ€™t need to have an lgbt character and can be filled to the brim with cishets, my dude. it looks like one of us is the insecure one, and itâ€™s not the lesbian lmao 3. also nice blaming the lgbt community for homophobia. like, thanks homophobe, never heard that one before

1. Actually, a few of your members (read: RWDE) have said that being straight is dragging the show down so that’s a lie.

2. Well, I'm not the one taking your words out of context and making everything fall apart simply by existsing and context. If you were so secure about yourself, you wouldn’t NEED an LGBT character in your show. I usually don’t give a shit about a person or character’s sexuality unless it has massively creepy undertones (like Puri Puri Prisoner from One Punch Man. Seriously, fuck that guy, going around attacking and molesting people just because he’s stronger. Hero my fucking ass.)

3. Once again, you are displaying the thought process of “Every LGBT person MUST think like em or else they are not LGBT.” AKA LGBT people are not like normal people and are a hivemind. Which, like I have said in this very post, is homophobic.

1. MILES also made this promise, you dumb fuck 2. they do have the obligation to include an lgbt character lmao 3. no they donâ€™t. 4. calling lgbt people abusers lmao. love that Homophobiaâ„¢ 5. what actions and how are they irredeemableâ€¦â€¦â€¦â€¦.. ?????? calling rt out on not including an lgbt character in 5 years despite promising us and then making me sit thru the â€˜Life and Times of Jaune Arc, Sad Heterosexual Boyâ€™? get fucked

1. Proof. 2. Not anymore: You people (read; RWDE) have pretty much shown that if you are given anything, you will tear everything to shreds so if they never do it: You have only your selves to blame. 3. Ah so they are not allowed to do anything you don’t want them to do. Sounds familiar... (https://helpguide.org/articles/abuse/domestic-violence-and-abuse.htm) 4. Nope, calling RWDE absuers: Glad to see you cannot comprehend that LGBT people are, shock, people with different ideas because sexuality is mostly a non factor in how a person is. 5. Give me a minute: https://knightofbalance-13.tumblr.com/post/163768158700/hey-remember-what-a-mirror-is (A gleeful assortment of what just one person has done.) https://bluepulserjaime.tumblr.com/post/163547055676/so-just-because-jaune-was-in-a-dress-and-camp (trying ti remove freedom of speech. Also he said that the CRWBY are only being praised because they are white. http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/163589308451/just-because-jaune-was-in-a-dress-and-camp-camp#notes Oh hey, you’re in there too!) https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/163181907124/okay-so (Supporting a guy who outright insulted Monty) https://rwby-analysis.tumblr.com/post/162751186437/ejladybug-its-pretty-low-to-accuse-someone-of (ATTACKING an LGBT person because, get this, they didn’t insult Miles and Kerry) That enough because I can go into the harassment, the bigotry, the double standard, the attacks against other LGBT people, the devaluing of human life and so on.

how are you even comparing critiquing a show and itâ€™s writing to actual, real life ABUSE, you disgusting human being?

also, who the fuck is the victim in this? rt??????

Ah yes, critique...that consists of lying, msirepresneting and cheating...and attacking the writers while trying to get them fired so a woman can take over...constantly insulting them while saying you are their fans...then trying to humiliate them by making a spectacle and then blaming them...while treating them as a factory for LGBT characters or as robots that should only do as they say instead of people...Making the CRWBY hesitant to answer any and all questions that might set you off...as you control what they do, when they do it...Like an abuser (https://helpguide.org/articles/abuse/domestic-violence-and-abuse.htm)

So yes, yes they are.

1. jaune asking weiss to the dance 2. weiss giving neptune Sad Heterosexual Looks bc she had a crush on him 3. pyrrha being a Sad Heterosexual bc she has an ~unrequited love~ for jaune 4. pyrrha literally kissing jaune 5. ren and noraâ€™s background and Meaningful Heterosexual Looks, all but confirming renora 6. not to mention all the more one liners about how many characters are SO attracted to the 'opposite genderâ€™ (ie qrow with the waitress)

1. ah yes, because t’s bad if a heterosexual is having love woes. Doesn’t TAHT sound bigoted?

2. Ship sank and was sued for character development. 3. Ship also sank and was used for character development. 4. Ship sank. 5. Because Asexuals, demisexuals and bisexuals don’t exist apparently (and both Ren and Nora have aspects of the first two.) 6. Look at 5

yes, 'tis was I, the Homosexual, that was the homophobe all along! anyway, calling out homophobic/transphobic jokes is not homophobic, I canâ€™t believe i actually have to say that.

Yes...except those jokes are not what you call them. By this logic, every joke ever made is some kind of phobic and thus humor as a whole shouldn’t exist. And since people make jokes about straight and cisgender people, logically they are allowed to make the same jokes for LGBT people. That IS what equality means.

â€œthe lgbt community doesnâ€™t deserve anythingâ€ ohhhhhh my god

“Only people who think like me are LGBT” Really, whose the homophobe here?

1. itâ€™s probably because bumbleby is? the most popular? lgbt ship? in? the fandom?????? 2. im not even gonna TOUCH on asexuality and the lgbt community lmao 3. also like Bumbleby can, in fact, be a ship made up of not only two lesbians, but two bisexual women, a bisexual woman and a lesbian, a pansexual woman and a lesbian, or a bisexual woman and a pansexual woman. 4. just say you hate wlw and go!

1. And what about the people who don’t like Bumbleby and are LGBT? Like this person (https://darkvioletcloud.tumblr.com/post/163803510478/rwde-and-rwby-critical-is-making-me-hate-bumblebee) 2. Because if you don’t consider them LGBT because they aren’t you. 3. And you can have two gay men, one bisexual man and one gay man, one bisexual man and one pansexual man, one pansexual woman and one bisexual man, two pansexual men or woman, one pansexual man and woman, one bisexual man and woman. Bumbleby is not your only option for LGBT representation. Or are you just using the guise of representation to force your ship? Seems that way to me. 4. I don’t: I’m a White Rose Shipper. You’re the one who hates anything not wlw from your attitude.

1. im not going to comment about the suicide baiting bc i honestly know nothing about it so 2. didnâ€™t you, earlier, in this very post, say treating the lgbt community like it was a hive mind is homophobic? and yet.

1. Another example of irredeemable shit. 2. I know one would because one HAS done it. My friends in this fandom are all LGBT and they have called this out too. Hell, the guy I linked to is bi AND trans. No one likes being used for another’s agenda. Also, you have been acting LIKE the LGBT community is a hivemind. 3. Dudeblade is straight and talking over LGBT people: He’s doing what you accused me of. And yet not a word against him. Double Standard much?

1. renora was suggested from the beginning 2. pyrrha and jaune literally kissed on the mouth in literally the most cliche, heterosexual way possible

1. And by your logic, so was WHite Rose and Bumbleby: Not a counter 2. Ah yes because hetersosexuality Is inherently bad like a cliché. Because homosexuality and it’s kin should just be marketing ploys to make something look good and original when it’s actually shit. That’s not homophobic at all.

1. i canâ€™t believe one (1) man is doing all this! by just criticizing an internet show on a micro-blogging website. amazing. 2. this is now a joke post bc heterophobia ISNT REAL aldjajdjahskshh im literally close to tears rn fuck oh my god

1. More like a group of people encouraging a dangerous mindset and being toxic as shit by encouraging an abusive relationship between fans and creators. 2. Considering you used “cishet” which is a deragitory word used to devalue heterosexuals and cisgender people as if they are beneath you: You are a perfect example of heterophobia. Also: If heterophobia isn’t real then it’s counterpart isn’t real. That’s right. you just insinuated that HOMOPHOBIA isn’t real. Good job there. 3. What abouyt the homophobia argument? The sexism argument? The racism argument? Are those just accepted as truth? Well then: Glad to see you admit it.

not very logically indeed, kob

That’s a mirror you’re talking to dumbass.

#rwde bullshit #rwbycrit

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icouldbemuchworse · 7 years ago

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Me Update™

Selena here, bringing you news live from my home in Something Or Other, Florida. After a (very) long hiatus on Tumblr and a four month hiatus from art in general (breaks are good. I lied. They're awful don't take them) I'm back in action! I'm currently dealing with some minor (major) art style regression but that shouldn't take me very long to recover from. In school news, the new fall semester starts on Thursday! I only have five classes at my high school this year as I am taking two college classes at my local college (because AP sucks, tbh) I'm straying from my norm this year and not taking an art class, which I honestly never thought I'd do. Personally I had a few issues with the teacher, clashing personalities and her distrust of my friend base to boot. I'm still in my schools design academy, but I'm not entirely sure how much longer I'll be staying considering the massive changes they seem to have planned. I'm not a big fan of change, especially if it involves changing the whole dynamic of something that I loved and essentially shoving it into a tight corset of school regulated conformity. High school sucks. In other art related news, my tablet pen charger got eaten by my good-for-nothing shitty ass roomba so my digital art, and commissions consequently, are temporarily out-of-commission. (See what I did there? Ya I'm trash) Good things did, however, come out of my fourth month long art hiatus. I picked back up an old hobby of mine: Figure Skating Sounds funny, right? Shady little artist, hands all fidgety and overworked, stressing about her knife shoes. In reality, I've rediscovered an old love of mine and with it, as preposterous as it sounds, happiness. In the past four months I have progressed further than I had in my childhood (screw you @ 7 year old me for quitting) I can now do scratch spins, forward and backward, toe loops, and of course the ever annoying Waltz Jump™. (Not to mention the basic things like forward and backwards crossovers, lunges, spirals, swizzles, and numerous stopping techniques) To make this more impressive, I've been doing it in a miss-sized pair of Riedell Opals, a boot and factory grade set meant for going forwards in a straight line and nothing more. Soon, hopefully, I will be getting new boots n blades that are for a higher level, but until then I'll enjoy my last few days with my Opals. Speaking of skating, I ended up finally watching Yuri On Ice after my close friend locked me in her room and asked for my Crunchyroll password. And honestly 10/10 Yuri On Ice is fricking AMAZING and PURE and HOLY That kinda brings me to another issue. Yuri On Ice inspiring people to skate. I know for a fact that this is controversial in not only the Figure Skating community itself but in the YOI fandom as well. So, here's my take. If you want to try skating because of YOI go for it. Go for it with all of your might and fight in your body because, hell, you might end up really finding an affinity for it. I've personally watched kid after kid come into my home rink fall and fall and fail. Some get up, dust themselves off, and keep going, while some just give up. (Some even come back! One little girl that I taught swizzles came back a week later with a pair of skates! She's taking lessons now and I am So Proud) You won't know if you're good at something if you give up, so don't let anyone stop you if they say you "aren't good enough" or are doing it "just because of an anime" This, like anything, has conditions of course. If you watched YOI and want to become a skater: •DO NOT go to a rink and act disrespectful to the staff, the ice, the facilities, or, heaven forbid, the figure skaters themselves. I've seen this before, and it's pretty grim. •DO NOT go into a rink, or a rink program/academy, expecting to be able to 'rise above the rest' or to 'be naturally talented on the ice'. We all start from somewhere, kids, and in this case, your place is on the bottom (or on your bottom. Falling is natural. Trust me I fell on my ass two days ago, and I'm decently experienced!) Your skating will improve drastically once you realize that legit no one on the ice in front of you is perfect in any way. We all forget things. •DO NOT try to critique a higher-level skater. Please. dear god please. I've experienced this one personally and it makes me want to CATCH ON FIRE. If you're a public skater, don't go up to a figure skater and tell them that they did something wrong. Chances are, they probably know already, and, chances are, all you'll do is severely piss them off. If you NEED to comment on something say it politely. "Maybe if you lifted your leg a little higher...." Or "You seemed a little off balance" might work, depending on the skater, but in all honesty, we don't want your opinion. (Chances are what we want is to complete an actual scratch spin without almost slicing open a random child's head. yes this happens) •DO NOT get in a figure skaters way. Y'know what, just don't get in anyone's way. "They'll move for me" isn't an excuse and neither is "they can move faster than we can". I had a friend the other day who had to stop her routine and fling herself face first into the ice all because a child skated into her blind spot and got in the way (my friend dislocated her pinky finger in the process) Please watch out for us. We try to watch for you but if we're in the middle of a spin or are going backwards, please for the love of god shuffle out of our way. All of these things aside, please do feel free to talk to figure skaters during their free time. We like to help people and, chances are, we like YOI too! I don't have one skater friend who hates YOI, and I'm friends with almost every skater in my home rink! I can tell you from personal experience that all positive commentary is appreciated greatly. Small talk too. Chances are, you'll be talking to a skater that felt like they didn't quite make the cut that day or who felt like they weren't going to place well in a competition. A quick "wow! You look so good on the ice! How long have you been skating?" Can really brighten someone's day. (Even for those of us who hate conversations ((me)) a little encouragement can go a long way) Wow! I'm Really Bad At Keeping On-Task!!!! Anyway, this is Selena signing out of your random Me Update™! Until next time!

#update #figure skating #life

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theliteraturenerd · 7 years ago

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25 MOTIVATIONAL THOUGHTS FOR WRITERS by Chuck Wendig

1. YOU ARE THE GOD OF THIS PLACE

The blank page is your world. You choose what goes into it. Anything at all. Upend the frothy cup that is your heart and see what spills out. Murder plots. Train crashes. Pterodactyl love interests. Vampire threesomes. Housewife bondage. Demon spies! Cake heists! Suburban ennui! You can destroy people. You can build things. You can create love, foster hate, foment rage, invoke sorrow. Anything you want in any order you care to present it. This is your story. This is your jam.

2. INFINITE POWER, ZERO RESPONSIBILITY

Not only are you god of this place, but you have none of the responsibility divine beings are supposed to possess. You have literally no responsibility to anyone but yourself — you’re like a chimp with a handgun. Run amok! Shoot things! Who cares? There exists this non-canonical infancy gospel where Jesus is actually a little kid and he’s like, running around with crazy Jesus wizard powers. He’s killing them and resurrecting them and he’s turning water into Kool-Aid and loaves into Goldfish crackers — he’s just going apeshit with his Godborn sorcery. BE LIKE CRAZY JESUS BABY. Run around zapping shit with your God lightning! You owe nobody anything in this space. It’s adult swim. It’s booze cruise.

3. THE RAREST BIRD OF THEM ALL

The easiest way to separate yourself from the unformed blobby mass of “aspiring” writers is to a) actually write and b) actually finish. That’s how easy it is to clamber up the ladder to the second echelon. Write. And finish what you write. That’s how you break away from the pack and leave the rest of the sickly herd for the hungry wolves of shame and self-doubt. And for all I know, actual wolves.

4. YOU’RE NOT CLEANING UP SOME SIXTH GRADER’S VOMIT

You have worse ways to spend a day than to spend it writing. Here’s a short list: artificially inseminating tigers, getting shot at by an opposing army, getting eaten by a grue, mopping the floors of a strip club, digging ditches and then pooping in them, cleaning up the vomit of nervous elementary school children, being forced to dance by strange dance-obsessed captors, working in a Shanghai sweatshop making consumer electronics for greedy Americans, and being punched to death by a coked-up Jean-Claude Van Damme. Point is: writing is a pretty great way to spend a morning, afternoon, or night.

5. ABUSE THE FREEDOM TO SUCK

Writing is not about perfection — that’s editing you’re thinking of. Editing is about arrangement, elegance, cutting down instead of building up. Editing is Jenga. Writing is about putting all the pieces out there. It’s construction in the strangest, sloppiest form. It’s inelegant. And imperfect. And insane. It’s supposed to be this way. Writing is a first-time bike-ride. You’re meant to wobble and accidentally drive into some rose bushes. Allow yourself the freedom — nay, the pleasure — to suck. This is playtime. (Or, as I call it: “Whiskey and Hookers” time.) Playtime is supposed to be messy.

6. AND EMBRACE THE AUTHORITY TO BE FUCKING AWESOME

It’s your rodeo, hoss. You have the authority to write with confidence, to puff your chest out, to slap your ink-smeared genitals on the table as you utter your barbaric yawp. Aim big. Go bold. Don’t hide from your own most kick-ass desires. Don’t unfurl the story with hands trembling from the fear of what others will think. You have the power to do different. Yours is the authority to choose the road with your name on it. Write the story the tangle of desires and neuroses that comprise you so desire: A love affair between a man and a parking meter! A civil war between robots and other robots! A SPACE OPERA STARRING ROOT VEGETABLES. Fortune favors the bold. And being fucking awesome favors being fucking awesome.

7. YOU CAN CLEAN UP THE MESS LATER

Writers are afforded the glorious possibility of endless do-overs and take-backs. Every draft a new chance to go back and clean up messes and untangle the tangled wires that hide beneath the narrative. Can you imagine that privilege in real life? “Hey, when you go outside today, anything you do can be undone and the whole day can be recreated.” Holy crap, the day you’d have! Bath salts and dolphin sex, car crashes and muddy graves. I’d have an orgy at a candy factory. (So sticky!) I’d kill someone just because I could. I’D EAT DEEP-FRIED LIPO FAT AT A COUNTRY FAIR SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF AMERICA. If I didn’t like it, I’d go back and wipe the slate clean, start over again. That’s your story. Your story is a madcap day whose minutes and hours subject to your whims of rewriting — or unwriting.

8. A ROOM FULL OF STARVING STORY ADDICTS

For all the dire predictions about writing and publishing, I’m going to make a promise to you: the audience is waiting. They’re a subway car full of twitchy story tweakers going around and around, looking for any stop that will give them good story. They’re there for you. They’re waiting for your tale told. Writers often feel like they’re just sobbing into the void, but the audience will hear your plaintive cries, young storyteller. You may feel like a story flunky, but be sure that the audience is full of story junkies. Hey, snap, that rhymed and I didn’t even mean it to. FUCK YEAH WORDS.

9. I’M TALKING ABOUT MOTHERFUCKING ICE CREAM, SON

You are allowed to live a reward-driven life. You want me to motivate you? Go motivate yourself. (That is not code for “go fuck yourself,” unless I don’t like you, then it totally is.) Set a various goals and when you hit them, do something nice for yourself. I mean, the goal shouldn’t be, “Every time I write a sentence, I get an ice cream cone,” because that sir is a high-speed rail straight to the heart of Diabetesburg. But hit your mark of 2000 words a day? Write a chapter? Finish the book? Accept how kick-ass that is and reward yourself. It’s okay. You have my permission. (As long as you don’t bogart that ice cream. Dick.)

10. NOBODY ELSE WRITES LIKE YOU

When all your force fields and filters are down, when you’ve stripped yourself of your presuppositions and your fears and needs and your pants, you discover that nobody in the world writes like you. Nobody has your ideas. Nobody has your narrative memetic code. You are not a unique and beautiful snowflake, no. But your writing — your writing is your fingerprint. Your voice is yours and yours alone.

11. WE’RE TOTALLY BUILT FOR THIS

Someone will look down on you at some point (or, if you’re me, at frequent points throughout your day) for being what you want to be. Writer. Author. Artist. Storyteller. Here’s why that’s a dumpster full of shitballs: we are built for this. One of the things that lashes us all together with rope and chain and psychic plasm is our desire — nay, our sacred fucking need — to tell stories. We’ve been doing it since we drew Neanderthals chasing unicorns on cave walls. We tell stories about the weather, about work, about family and friends, about pets and sex and about that time that friend we have at work had sex with his pet python while a hurricane raged outside. This is what we do. You’re just codifying it. Making it real.

12. ONE WORD AFTER THE OTHER

The technical side of writing — by which I mean, the physical act itself — is one of the easiest things you can do. It’s literally one word placed after the other with some appropriate punctuation thrown in between breaths and ending thoughts. Yes, it gets more complex once you start thinking about narrative, character, meaning, text versus subtext — but for now, fuck all that. Just breathe. Let the tension go out of you (not so much you pee yourself). This is like LEGO. One block upon the other. One word after the next.

13. JUST WRITE 100 MORE WORDS

A frequent phrase said when I was a child or a teenager: just ten more minutes. Meaning, it was time to go to sleep (as a child) or time to get up for school (as a teenager) and all I wanted to do was avoid sleep (child) or sleep longer (teenager). As a writer, play the same game with yourself: you want to give up, close the notebook, save the story? Just 100 more words. That’s all. Push yourself just a little. A hundred words ain’t much (it’s about the size of this text block). And you’d be amazed at how 100 words just isn’t enough.

14. THIS IS HOW YOU GET BETTER

Writing is a muscle: the more you use it the stronger it gets. Writing is like a dog: the more you train it, the smarter it becomes. Writing is like one of your orifices: every time you allow a bigger object to be inserted within (pinky, buttplug, fist, cucumber, wiffle ball bat, railroad tie) you train it to gape wider the next time. …okay, maybe not so much the last one. Still: writing begets writing. You may not be great — or even good — now. But effort yields fruit. Fruit you may later jam up your ass for pleasure. Wait, what?

15. THE MORE YOU DO IT, THE EASIER IT GETS

It’s not just about getting better. It’s about it becoming easier. More natural. More intuitive. The act of writing cultivates both calluses (a metaphorical hardening the fuck up, Care Bear) and instinct (where your decisions as a word-captain and story-slinger are less the product of rigorous thought and more the result of you just having a gut feeling and going with it). Hard at first. Easier over time.

16. YOU ARE NOT THE OMEGA MAN

You are not alone. You are not Lonely Writer Person on Planet Nobody. We all get what you’re going through. We know your triumphs and terrors. The future of writing will be us uploading ourselves to The Cloud (probably on Amazon’s servers), our spirit animals glomming together to howl a single song, but for now, we’re all located at our individualized story pods, cranking out the words by ourselves. But that doesn’t mean we’re alone. We have community. We have shared understanding. Reiterate: You are not alone.

17. YOUR LOVE FOR WRITING IS ENDURING AND IMPERFECT

Some days will be great and other days will be hard. Some days you will love the thing that you’re doing so intimately and so completely that you feel like you achieved some kind of narrative orgasmic apotheosis, whereas other days you will feel nothing but septic hate gurgling in your empty belly and every word slung will feel like a brick flung into your own nose. Your love for this thing you do needn’t be there every day. Every day won’t feel like winning the championship. But the love endures, imperfect as it is.

18. IT’S OKAY THAT SOME DAYS ARE REALLY FUCKING HARD

Some days are difficult. The words feel like dead fish flopping out onto a dirty floor. Hell, maybe they don’t fall out at all but feel like they must be yanked one by one, the act both painful and slow, as if you’re extracting teeth. Some days are shitty. Is what it is. All writers go through it. You want to do this thing then don’t look at the shitty days as a problem: see them as a challenge that prove your pudding.

19. WRITER’S BLOCK IS NOT A REAL THING

You can be blocked. Everybody gets blocked. But it’s not special. It’s not unique to writers. It doesn’t deserve its name or the credit it receives. More importantly, it isn’t a physical thing — it isn’t a gorilla with a croquet mallet who smashes your hand every time you reach for the keyboard. You can get past it. You think past it. You write past it. You kick it in the teeth and step over its twitching body.

20. HOW TO IMAGINE THE HATERS

If there is one thing we have learned upon this old Internet of ours, it is: haters gonna hate. You will ever have disbelievers among your ranks, those who pop up like scowling gophers, boring holes through your well-being, your hopes, your dreams. It is very important not to prove the haters right. It is very important to know where to place the haters in rank of importance, which is to say, below telemarketers, below any television show on TLC, below crotch fungus and garbage fires and anal cankers. Imagine the haters herded into a pen. Eaten by the tigers of your own awesomeness. Then digested. Shat out. And burned with flamethrowers. The only power you should afford the haters is the power to eat curb.

21. MULTIPLE SHOTS AT GOAL

Just as you get multiple chances to fix a single story, you get multiple stories to fill your life — as many as you care to cram into your days, months, years. Our lives are a series of stories untold, and it’s up to you to tell them. This one might not be successful. But the next one might.

22. THE LEPRECHAUN’S GIFT

At the end of this rainbow are whatever rewards you want. Money? It’s there. Some say writers don’t earn out, that you can’t make a living doing this thing that we do. That’s a quiver of broken arrows: don’t sling it over your shoulder. I do it. I know a lot of writers who do it. So can you. But it’s not just money at the end: it’s self-fulfillment. It’s love. It’s confidence. It’s the things you’ve learned about yourself, about the craft of writing, about the art of storytelling. You never know what you’ll find until you climb that motherfucking rainbow. (One time I found a cardboard box of vintage porn and tasty grilled cheese sandwiches.) Writing is a journey. Each story just one leg of the trip. So start walking.

23. YOU ARE YOUR ONLY ENEMY

You have no enemy but yourself. You’re the only one that brings a story into existence, or, as it may turn out, fails to engineer that existence. Your enemy is not your spouse, your kids, your boss, your neighbor, your dog, your mother, your buddy. It is not time, work, addiction, distraction. It is not video games or Twitter, Facebook or television. Your enemy is fear. And indolence. And lack of discipline. And: uncertainty. And: lack of self-esteem. And all those things live inside your heart and your head. That’s hard to hear at first, but the trick is, that means you have the power to sweep all that shit off the table until it clatters and shatters against the floor. You’re the only one standing in your own way so, knock down your own worst inclinations and get to it. Disclaimer: actually, unicorns are frequently the writer’s enemy and if you got a unicorn problem best thing I can recommend is to call a priest. You can’t kill those things with weedkiller. And they deflect bullets with their horns. That’s no lie. Unicorns are pesky assholes.

24. THIS MATTERS

Story matters. Writing is important. Stories make the world go around. Many things begin as words on a page. It matters to the world. And it matters to you. Don’t let anyone rob you of that. Don’t rob yourself of it, either. Don’t diminish. Don’t dismiss. Embrace. Create. Accelerate.

25. UM, WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE?

Uh, hello? You should’ve bailed on me ten list items ago. What the fidgety fuck are you still doing here? Whatever it is you want to write — novel, script, short story, blog post, haiku out of fridge magnets — go forth and do it. Don’t wait for me. Don’t wait for all the answers. Don’t wait for permission, motivation, inspiration. It’s time to saddle up and gallop forth — through the white dust and the red sand, through the darkness of your own fears or inadequacies and into the light of a tale told to completion. Quit lookin’ at me. Quit looking for reasons. Quit dicking around. Close this browser and go tell a story, willya?

by Chuck Wendig

#writing #writer #studyspo #books #writers #writing motivation #literature #work

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nevermore--nevermore · 7 years ago

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20 things I don’t talk about but that I consider very important parts of my character

1: I can’t think of anything I love more than seeing other people genuinely excited about learning. My honors government professor, my high school math teacher, and Vlogbrothers changed my life.

2: I have now read The Catcher in the Rye six times and it seriously concerns my parents. I relate to Holden Caufield and Gregor Samsa from Metamorphosis above any other characters ever written.

3: I often think about the fact that as a neurodivergent, gay person, I serve no real function in the human race. I carry shitty survival traits and I’m basically sterile anyway. I don’t necessarily mean that in a depressive way - biologically, my survival just doesn’t make much sense.

4: I would rather gore my own eyeballs out and eat them off a toothpick like an olive than make polite conversation at a party for 10 minutes.

5: I watch a TedTalk almost every morning and have for years now and I think that’s really impacted who I am as a person.

6: I wish anyone and everyone I meet could understand the depth of the emotional intimacy, bond, love, strength, companionship, support, connection, and adoration my childhood best friend and I had for each other. Some days it keeps me up at night to think that I can never impress upon someone else the full experience of having a soulmate. It makes me sick to casually refer to those memories as a mere childhood friendship: something to be cast away, something impermanent, something casual, a normal experience. It was bigger than you or me or anything else I’ve ever known.

7: I wonder sometimes whether or not I am truly mentally ill or if I just freak out about things that other people just handle the way grown-ass people should.

8: I find it very frustrating that we have not evolved to no longer need to drink water. I hate drinking water. It tastes like nothing and it does nothing but waste time. Getting water, drinking it, peeing: all time wasters. Water is stupid and pointless.

9: I often question the concept of mental illness as a whole: yes, I recognize that much of what my mental illnesses make me do are forms of slow suicide, and yes, I see that they make me extraordinarily unhappy. But I can’t help but question whether the problem really is me and the way I’m wired or if the problem is the fact that the world doesn’t want to let me be the way I am naturally supposed to be.

10: I believe ranting about small, irritating things is one of the most fabulously fun, effective ways to regulate emotions, and I will be happy to talk about the atrocity that is nuts in cookies to anyone that disagrees with me.

11: Sometimes I try to think about who I would be without my demons and realize that they are more important to me than anyone or anything in my life. Without them, I would just be another cog lost in the churning factory of life. At least now I am a cog full of odd thoughts and fears. Even if it makes my gears a little dysfunctional, I appreciate that my cog seems to be built a little differently than most.

12: My self harm scars are my favorite parts of my body: thin, white lines etched into me, the only physical representation I bear of the wars my mind wages on itself every day. I have never harmed to release pain: I have scarred myself to be reminded that my battle is real.

13. You know how bands sometimes do that thing where they let a crowd sing a few verses of a song by themselves? That seriously fucks me up. I can’t say exactly what it is, but there’s something to the community, emotion, connection, and bond that it makes to sing something with a crowd that just wrecks me internally in a way I can’t describe.

14. I don’t understand my moods in the slightest, and it often takes me hours to identify what I am feeling and even longer to decide why. Most of the time, I reside in an unpleasant, disembodied, confused, blurry haze of detachment that makes me feel like an alien brain stewing in an acid-filled jar trapped in a human body.

15. I can know someone casually for years, but I will still be shocked and overjoyed if they recognize me by name out of the blue. It’s a fucking amazing feeling.

16. The safest I have ever felt is coiled in the harsh, hissing embrace of my anorexia, and despite all the joy my recovery has brought me, I envy those still in the clutches of their own demons more than I can put into words.

17. I believe in love, and I love nothing more than making others feel loved and valued. I want everyone to be happy. I want everyone to be confident. I want everyone to love the living fuck out of themselves. Everyone should feel empowered to pet more dogs, sniff more baby heads, drink more hot cocoa, and use more fuzzy blankets. Fuckin love yourselves, ok???

18. I’m incapable of measuring myself with the same ruler I do others, but sometimes people don’t understand that and the harsh measures I inflict on myself hurt them merely through implication.

19. When I was 15 years old, I decided that I would one day commit suicide while listening to Radiohead’s OK Computer. To this day, I cannot listen to The Tourist without immediately reverting to a place of extreme depression I usually like to believe is dead.

20. I want to learn to love every part of myself, but sometimes I need someone to reassure me that it’s OK to love the parts of me that try so hard to kill me. I guess, in the end, they’re the solid rock bottom I use as a foundation on which to lay out all those beautiful, fragmented little puzzle pieces I’ve spent my life trying to form into a completed me.

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