#i thought i’d finally found a piece of media

[vee-thebee]

oh no he’s hot,

[entwinedmoon]

This month is the 40th anniversary of John Torrington’s exhumation and autopsy. I’ve been doing real-time daily updates over on this post to show just how long and drawn out the process was. It took over a week, starting from when Beattie arrived on Beechey to when they first started digging to when they finally got the coffin open. Right now, those updates are in a bit of a lull because, after they dug down to the coffin, they had to wait for permits to move onto the next part, so there won’t be another Daily Torrington Dig update until August 17.

While we’re waiting for Beattie to get his permits to crack open a cold one (Torrington’s coffin) with the boys (his scientific research team), you can check out my Torrington blog posts to keep the spirit of the season going. The posts Sacred to the Memory of and A Star Is Born would be especially applicable right now as they explore Torrington’s death, exhumation, autopsy, and the media’s response to the photographs of his well-preserved body.

But there’s something else I wanted to share here, another type of media response that I’ve known about (and had a copy of) for a while. I shared it years ago on Twitter, thinking it would get a laugh there, but that was, er, not the reaction I received, so I’d held off on sharing it anywhere else because I thought most people would find it inappropriate. However, I was reminded recently by a friend (don’t know if they want to be tagged here or not, so I’ll go with not) about the existence of this particular piece, and I realized that this might be something that would be more appreciated here on Tumblr, where we like to photoshop Torrington’s corpse into memes, ship him with the guy he’s buried next to, and want to see what he would think of Takis and flavored vapes.

The article I’m referring to is the story about Torrington that appeared in the Weekly World News.

If you’re not familiar with the Weekly World News, it was a notorious tabloid that made up absurd stories and pretended it was real news. Some news stories were actually true—so it wasn’t completely like today’s The Onion—but there were also plenty of clearly fictional articles, featuring bizarre, often supernatural stories, such as Elvis sightings, a double-decker bus mysteriously found at the South Pole (“scientists” claimed aliens did it), or Bat Boy, a boy who was part bat, part boy.

Torrington’s level of fame within the cultural consciousness of the time meant that he, too, got to experience the tabloid treatment.

(CW: pictures of Torrington’s mummified body beneath the cut)

Published on March 3, 1992, was this front-page story:

Man buried in 1845 brought back to life!

Sailor’s coffin frozen in arctic ice 147 years!

Hush-hush new drug revives corpse, say doctors!

Yes, according to the Weekly World News, John Torrington was brought back to life in 1992. There’s even a full article all about how it happened.

MAN FROZEN SINCE 1845 BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE!

Scientists revive seaman trapped in ice 147 years!

Sailor back from the dead still thinks James K. Polk is President of the U.S.!

By Cal Sanders, Special Correspondent

The perfectly preserved corpse of a British sailor who was buried in an icy grave after he died on an Arctic expedition in 1845 has been revived by scientists—147 years later!

And while Petty Officer John Torrington’s health is fragile at best, the team of doctors who illegally plucked him from his grave and brought him back to life say he is aware of his surroundings, walking with help and might very well be able to lead a normal life “if this man has the psychological strength to adapt to the 20th century.”

“It’s hard to believe but this man thinks James K. Polk is President of the United States and insists that horses and sailing ships are the best and fastest ways to travel,” Dr. Hermann Richter said in his report on the experiment that brought Torrington back to life.

“Electric lights literally scare the hell out of him and to be perfectly frank about it, he hasn’t quite decided if he’s dead or alive. About the best we can do at this point is take his recovery one day at a time.

“If Torrington survives we will have produced a living piece of history. If he dies, at least we’ll be able to say that we tried to do something that might ultimately have benefited all mankind.”

The decision to steal Torrington’s corpse from its grave in northern Canada couldn’t have come easy for the Richter team, which issued its report to selected European newspapers “from an undisclosed clinic in Germany.”

For starters, the young man’s grave has stood as an unofficial monument to the courage and determination of 128 adventurers led by British explorer Sir John Franklin—adventurers who gave up their lives to chart the last 300-mile-leg of the treacherous Northwest Passage between 1845 and 1848. Torrington’s body was exhumed once before, in 1983, but it was carefully reburied after scientists took a small tissue sample to determine the cause of death. As it turned out, Torrington died from lead poisoning after eating provisions out of tins that were sealed with the dangerous and often lethal metal. Needless to say, news that Richter and his associates secretly exhumed the body a second time, smuggled it into Germany and succeeded in bringing it back to life have infuriated many experts, some of whom consider the theft of the body criminal. Richter himself insisted that Torrington is in good hands and will be free to go when he is strong enough.

The doctor went on the say that he understands why the experiment might sound extreme to some people but he believes that the revival of Torrington “furthered the best interests of medicine and science.” Richter’s report did not include any of the techniques that were used to revive Torrington but it did mention “an exciting new drug” that might one day make such revivals routine.

Because he died of lead poisoning, it is also believed that Richter and his team somehow cleansed Torrington’s tissue of the deadly metal before bringing him back to life. For the record, Torrington was a man of 20 when he died. Now he looks like a man of 80, photos supplied by Richter show.

“A century and a half of death is enough to age anyone,” said Richter.

There’s a lot to unpack here—the morally dubious German doctor with a mysterious, Frankenstein-esque resurrection method; the burial and exhumation dates both being off by one year for some reason; the short, skinny guy in the obvious bald cap that they thought would pass as Torrington; and so much more. Interestingly, a lot of the article seems to focus more on how scandalous it is that Dr. Richter stole Torrington’s body, as if the writer thought that the revival of a long-dead corpse wasn’t enough of a scoop. Also, I’m not sure if Torrington would even have been aware that Polk was president in 1845—was he the sort of guy who paid attention to international politics? Wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to think Victoria was still queen?

Many people might be offended by such an article, but the Weekly World News never cared about who they offended. Unsurprisingly, one of those who did take umbrage with the story was Dr. Owen Beattie.

In a short article in the Times-Colonist Metro about a week after the Weekly World News story ran, we got to hear Owen Beattie’s reaction.

HEE-(T)HAW . . . It was standard checkout rag fare. “Man Buried in 1845 brought back to life” shouted a recent front page of Weekly World News. “Hush-Hush New Drug Revives Corpse,” it continued.

These startling revelations bore some significance for both the wax museum’s Ken Lane and University of Alberta anthropologist Owen Beattie. The man purportedly thawed like last night’s dinner was John Torrington, one of three sailors from the Franklin expedition buried on Beechy [sic] Island. The Franklin expedition—and John Torrington—feature large in the wax museum’s arresting Frozen in Time expedition. Torrington’s body was exhumed from its Arctic grave in ’84 by Dr. Beattie, who determined death was from lead poisoning.

Neither Ken nor the anthropologist felt their respective professional worlds crumbled with the News article. (It ran with a photo of an emaciated looking chap being assisted by doctors and reports that Torrington is terrified of electric lights, still believes Polk is the U.S. president, and horses are the only way to go.) Ken shrugged it off with a what-can-you-expect-from-a-checkout-rag laugh. The anthropologist wasn’t quite so forgiving.

He refused to comment on it at all, insisting that his research speaks for itself. Apparently John Torrington was quite dead when he was exhumed and equally so when buried after the autopsy. But then that’s not the sort of stuff that sells check-out rags.

While it’s perfectly understandable that Beattie would not appreciate something like the Weekly World News’ fake story, what I find most interesting about this snippet is that there was a wax museum with a Franklin Expedition exhibit that included Torrington??? Does that mean there was a Torrington wax figure???? Where is it now????? Can I buy it?????????

These very important questions aside, it’s fascinating to see that Torrington was well known enough to make it into a “checkout rag.” Maybe it’s not the legacy he would have wanted, but at least it’s worth a good laugh.

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Licentious Affairs

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, definitely dub-con, a little non-con, use of restraints, having sex with a demon, some animalistic behaviors, descriptions of blood, biting, degrading, hair pulling and i think that's everything

summary: you and dalton grew closer over the course of the fall semester. you sense a mutual feeling but still, a crush feels forbidden. on the night that dalton decides he needs to unlock all his memories for good, something possesses his earthly form and you’re left at its mercy. 

a/n: when i saw the new installment of this franchise, something about him being possessed had me kicking my feet and giggling. this is 100% self indulgent bc I feel like this is so niche lol. it strays from the events in the film(obvi) but I hope whoever comes across enjoys and i'll get back to my kpop postings shortly :3 ~nero

possessed!Dalton Lambert x female reader

word count: 4.4k

pt.2

The breeze was crisp and the trees were warm bouquets of orange, yellow, and sun-bleached green. As you walked across campus, the leaves crunching under your feet you appreciated the change in season. Wrapping yourself a little tighter in your knitted cardigan, you pulled out your phone checking your notifications. Swiping out of your social media a message from Dalton popped up on your screen. 

van gogh: r u out of class yet 

y/n: walking to the dorm rn

van gogh: okay, i’ve got something to show you

Turning the volume up on your music and stuffing your phone back into your stubby front pocket, you continued your walk to the dorm. Your mind was scattering all the different possibilities of what Dalton could’ve found out. Since the beginning of the semester, his art professor had been unleashing techniques on him to tap into a deeper artistic space. Through this theory of unlocking, he opened up memories that were tucked away so tightly that he forgot they were his own. Throughout the semester, you’ve been forced to be around his revelations as you were his dorm mate, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy his company. 

At first, you thought it was just you being good-natured and wanting to extend a hand to him in a time of need. But as his walls crumbled down you wormed your way in and slowly you found you guys becoming quite close. Opening the main doors to your dorm building the way the air felt never failed to bother you. The brick walls made it constantly humid and it was borderline suffocating with how many bodies passed through the day. Dragging your feet across the floor, you began to feel the day place its weight on your body. You felt another vibration in your pocket but ignored it, deciding to look at the notification once you got settled in. 

Opening the door to your room, you were met with Dalton hunched over the canvas of his current piece. He was so focused on the painting that he didn’t hear you come in until the door clicked shut. You dropped your bag on the floor and he finally looked up. 

“Hey. Didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Yeah, you looked pretty focused on that freaky ass painting.” 

“If not for this freaky ass painting, I’d still be “boring.”’

Flopping onto your bed, you chuckled remembering the first interaction you guys had with each other. You so desperately were trying to break the ice with your roommate and least to say it was the smallest bit painful getting some info out of him. As Dalton added the last few strokes of creativity, he put down his brush and wiped his hands off with a rag. Meanwhile, you were getting lost in his every move. You were tracing him, the way he moved, really just the way he existed. Losing yourself in your thoughts you didn’t hear him calling your name. 

“Y/n…y/n? Are you even here right now?” “Huh?- Sorry was spacing out, long day.” 

You were praying that somehow he wouldn’t think too much of it and just pass it off as you disassociating and not internally doting on him. You sat up as he walked over to your bed, the mattress shifting as he sat. 

“So you know how we learned I can astral project right?”

You nodded and raised your eyebrows urging him to go on. 

“Well, I think, whatever I’m remembering–if I finish that painting I’ll remember everything.” 

You looked at him, brows furrowing and your eyes showing an incredulous type of fear. Memories from the last time he projected flooded your mind. Whatever was stalking that other plane had it out not only for Dalton but for anyone in his vicinity. It left you stricken, but subconsciously you knew you couldn’t leave Dalton to deal with it alone. 

“You wanna…go back again?”

“I think it’s my only option y/n.”

You sighed knowing there was really nothing you could do to get him to think otherwise. You stared off toward the cryptic painting searching your brain for a solution that didn’t involve him going back to that other world. Nodding, more towards yourself, you looked back at Dalton. 

“Okay. When are we doing this?”

There was a small flash of a ‘thank you’ that graced his features. The relationship you shared was beyond the parameters of normal but it was exactly that that allowed you guys to grow so close with one another so quickly. He let out a sigh a dour expression taking over. 

“Tonight.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line forcing yourself to become comfortable with the reality of the situation. Slightly nodding, you stood up grabbing your bag from the floor. 

“Alright. I’ll be right back. Just gonna run and grab some fairy lights so I can have some source of light in here while you play Sherlock Holmes in the upside down.” 

Dalton cracked a smile, a small chuckle escaping him. It was something that softened the heaviness of the situation, lifting the tension not only between you two but for your anxieties. It also made something flutter in your stomach, something you’ve desperately been trying to swallow scared of what would happen if he were to find out. You were about to open the door but a hand on your shoulder stopped you. 

“Your phone.” 

A gentle smile stretched across his face and there was something softer about him in this particular moment. Maybe it was the knowledge of the impending doom that would ensue in a few hours or maybe it was just two people being vulnerable. You weren’t sure what came over you but the urge to hug him was impossible to pass over and your body moved faster than your mind could react. Your arms wrapped around him finding relief and comfort in him returning the gesture so quickly. 

Pulling away from him you found a certain softness swimming in his eyes that you never noticed before. Feeling slightly overwhelmed and bashful you fiddled with your fingertips attempting to wash away the anxiety that was running through you. 

“Thanks. I won’t be too long.” 

Dalton nodded and you slipped out of the doorway. As you walked down the hallway to leave the building you were fighting a more than enthusiastic grin as you felt those same pesky feelings flutter through your being. If only you had a similar gift to Dalton’s you’d be able to see that he was feeling the exact same way. As soon as you left the dorm he sat back on his bed, his hands trying to wipe away the elation he felt from the hug you shared. He was fighting a similar demon as your own, the fabrication of feelings–a crush. 

As he laid back on his bed he was running through all his favorite parts of you, something that he didn’t think he could say out loud. His mind was in too many places at once, going back and forth between the budding feelings he felt for you and the unfortunate calamity that he was going to have to face not long after you came back. 

Coming out of the corner store, you were surprised by how fast the sun began to tuck behind the mountains. You had an interesting relationship with the fall season, loving how the weather changed and the natural warmness that fall carried. By the same token though, you wished daylight lasted a bit longer, especially tonight. You wished the sun would never set so neither one of you would have to experience the ire that attaches itself to Dalton when the night approaches. 

When you got back into the dorm building, there was a formidable sense of dread that you felt settle in your stomach. You tried to brush it off as anxiety now that the navy blanket of night was cast over the sky, but as you approached your dorm the feeling only worsened. Taking a deep breath as you turned the handle of the door, you exhaled as you entered the room, dropping your bag by the door and tossing the bag of lights on your bed. 

You were about to announce your arrival to Dalton but were surprised to find him asleep on his bed. You were gone for maybe half an hour so you didn’t think he’d be too deep in sleep. Admiring his form you quelled your thoughts by grabbing the box of lights out of the grocery bag and began to unravel them while calling out to Dalton. 

“Dalton…Dalton.” 

Plugging the lights in the wall, you called for him one more time before deciding to walk over and shake him up. But when you turned around, he was already sitting up on his bed. It spooked you because you didn’t hear him move.

“Jesus! Make a noise or you know, yawn or something. Scared the shit outta me.” You nervously giggled. That sickly feeling found its way back in your stomach again and you couldn’t quite figure out why. Moving the string of lights around your bed, you found Dalton being more quiet than usual and you ruled that to be the reason why your stomach was turning in knots. 

“You alright man? You’re being more weird than usual.” 

Silence. Crippling silence. 

Chills ran up your body and you tried desperately to feel some sense of normality about the situation. Dalton got up from his bed and walked over to his canvas, running his fingers over the freshly dried paint. He forced some extra air out of his nose somewhat resembling something of a laugh. You kept yourself on high alert as you walked over to your bag to grab your phone. As you got your phone and turned around your eyes met Dalton’s frame huddled in the corner of the room closest to your bed. 

The way the string of lights illuminated him caused that sinking feeling to turn into something more dire. You started to go beyond the safety of things just being “weird” and recognized it was fear settling into your bones. Dalton’s shoulders were quivering almost resembling what a laugh would look like but no noise was coming out. 

“Dalton, what’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

Ignoring your intuition, you slowly walked over to him, hoping that the lights would let you see something that you were missing from your distance away from him. You left a couple feet in between you two and you called out to him again, only this time he turned his head slowly in your direction. Any rumination of worry about your friend was quickly replaced with terror once his head turned enough for you to see his eyes. They weren’t his own. They were yellow and held malicious intent. 

You wanted to stand your ground but the gasp that left you made a sound before you could stop it. You watched a smirk grow on Dalton’s face and as you broke your chains of frozen fear, you turned around in an attempt to reach the door. Before you could take your second step towards your escape, your feet left the safety of the ground and your body was flung through the air. 

Hitting the art wall adjacent to Dalton’s bed your body flopped onto his bed, a shield of sheets as your protection. In a poor attempt to quickly figure out an escape you instead were met with the evil incarnate of Dalton. Your heart was pounding, fear and a dread of the unknown at the forefront of your mind. His frame was looming, staring you down like fresh prey. You gripped the bed sheets staring him down trying to convince yourself you weren’t fearful. Your plan was successful, but the longer you looked at him the easier it became for something more sinister to eclipse your emotions. 

Lust. 

A salacious intent swapping out the fear of him for the fear of yourself and your own emotions. Why were you feeling this? Could whatever was using Dalton as a vessel hear your thoughts? How could you look at him the same way after this? All of your questions were pushed to the back of your mind as the door to your dorm slowly opened and Dalton turned towards it. You saw nothing in the doorway but almost like a warning, a low timbre shriek echoed from his throat as a bloody goop tumbled out of his mouth. 

Whatever was entering the door from the other side left, the door clicking shut and his attention was unfortunately back on you. With a feeble bid, you hoped that calling to Dalton would release him of whatever had a hold on him. As Dalton turned around to grab the cord of lights from the wall, the way he stalked back over to you sent a familiar feeling to pool in your stomach.

“Dalton…I know you’re in there. Dal-”

“-To be face to face with what was keeping me from him recently was not what I expected to see. Nor did I expect it to be so filthy.” 

It felt like someone was trying to steal your heart from its chest. There was a certain grit to his tone that was not Dalton’s and you weren’t quite sure if it frightened you or excited you. As he wrapped the cord around his hand he stalked closer to you on the bed. 

“Most would be terrified in a situation like this, but you? I can smell you. It’s hard to ignore really.” 

You backed further to the wall suddenly facing the reality of your situation. Your heart sped up but not out of fear. The closer he got the more aroused you became but you didn’t want to admit that to yourself just yet. Before you had an understanding of what was going on in front of you, your wrists were taken and tied to the bedpost with the cord Dalton was winding up. 

“No!” 

A sudden urge to fight back, you weren’t sure if this was something you wanted under the given circumstances. As you tried to push back against the cord, an unseen force was pinning your body to the bed. Your vision was obstructed by the fabric of Dalton’s baggy long sleeve but the overwhelming feeling of arousal was something you couldn’t ignore when he moved to face you and you looked directly into his yellowed eyes. 

His hand snaked down the front of your body leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. It was a twisted feeling, you dreamt of a moment like this but with the given situation you were struggling if it was right. As his hand toyed with the button of your jeans any doubt about the situation was pushed to the back of your mind and a gritty tone echoed in the silence of the room.

“It’s funny. Hearing you think you have enough strength to deny yourself pleasure.” 

You arched your eyebrow confused by his admission. He took heed of this and answered before you had a chance to vocalize your thoughts. He leaned forward stalking over your body before he placed himself next to the shell of your ear. 

“Your thoughts are so loud. Louder than his–if only…he could be the one to see you like this. He’s wished for it.” He pulled away grinning at you in a way that made your walls flutter around nothing. You wondered if the confession of your Dalton “wishing for it” was real or just something the entity used to get under your skin. 

You didn’t have much time to think on the matter as your heart rate picked up again at the unfortunate realization that you, were enjoying this. The smirk that rested on Dalton’s face let you in on the sadistic pleasure of whatever was taking control of him was feeling. Before Dalton moved away from the shell of your ear, he took a deep inhale of the scent of your neck. 

Humming in relish, he nipped at your earlobe gingerly pulling at the skin as he snaked down your body once more. You wish you had more control but the whimper that left your throat was something instinctive. As this primal version of Dalton reached your hips, your zipper was quickly unfastened and your pants were tossed to the other side of the room 

Dalton moved his legs so that he was no longer straddling your own and situated himself in between them. Sliding toward the edge of the bed, he slid down enough to be face first with your messy cunt. Your desire soaking through the fabric leaving no room for doubt in your feelings. Shoving his nose into your drenched panties, he huffed the scent of you a second time causing you to squirm away from the action. 

Closing your eyes and rolling your lips around your teeth, you tried to silence your whines to collect yourself. Once again trying to convince yourself that you had more power over your bodily wants and needs.

“Stop, please.” 

Your plea was met with a sardonic giggle and as you looked down and was met with the sick glow of his yellow eyes. Dalton stalked back up your body, hovering over your face and clicking his tongue at you mockingly. As you were entranced by the figure above you, you failed to realize that he unbound your wrists from the cord. The sudden freedom surprised you but was swallowed by the feeling of his hand slithering in your panties and rubbing his finger across your slick folds. 

Your body shuddered in hedonism, rolling your hips up into the feeling. As one finger slipped its way into your slick cavern your hands found solace in fisting the sheets. As he entered a second finger you couldn’t contain your sounds. 

“Ah~! I can’t believe this is happening. I can’tbelievethisishappening.”

In your stupor of sexual panic, a low chuckle brought you back down to your body. His fingers curled inside of you repeatedly hitting the special spongey spot you cherished so much. As your moans became more frequent and less controlled, he removed his fingers from your pulsating hole and ripped your panties off of your sensitive frame. You whined out not only at the loss of contact but at the sudden cool air that breezed over your skin. Settling into your body you were panting heavily as you stared down Dalton. 

His yellowed eyes still igniting fear but simultaneously leaving you wanton and in a state of ache. That conflicting feeling flooded your brain again and soon felt guilt peering over the horizon. Before you were given the chance to wrestle with your thoughts, Dalton straddled himself over your body. One hand grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks to pry your mouth open just enough to shove his fingers into your mouth. He looked down at you, a small smirk adorning his face.

“Suck.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden roughness you complied immediately not wanting to make the situation even more escalated. Your eyebrows furrow, your face plagued with anxiety as you watch Dalton come closer to your face. The leftover stain of blood that was on his chin smeared across your lower cheek as his breath fanned over your skin leaving your body wanting more. As he removed his fingers from your mouth, he licks from your chip up to the tip of your nose. Dalton pulls away slightly so he can get a better look at your face as a venomous smile pulls at his. 

He takes the hand that was holding your face and drags it down the side of your cheek as he exhales a phrase that would chill your bones. 

“Everything I’m going to do to you…he wishes he could do himself.” 

The anxiety you felt prior was beginning to trickle back in as you realized the tank top you were wearing underneath the cardigan provided you little safety from the one above. Dalton’s hands slid up your torso underneath your tank top, his hands massaging over the soft flesh of your breast. Undoing the front clasp, your tits pancaked out of the fabric only for one to be caught by Dalton’s rough hand and the other encased by his lips.

You tried to keep a coherent thought, to push back against him but you lacked the mental will due to the rapture spidering through your body. As his mouth left your nipple, the cold air sent shivers through your chest and rippled down your back as his lips savagely placed open mouth kisses along your jawline, nipping at your skin with each release. 

Caught up in the feeling you almost blocked out the sound of his belt becoming undone. But as soon as you were aware, the time to react had come to pass. His cock, hard and heavy was pulled out from the layers of fabric and you felt it tap against your inner thigh. You were suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you were and the understanding of what was about to happen next rushed through you. 

“W-wait! I don’t, I can’t I~ah! Fuck!”

Before you had the chance to form a coherent thought, his cock entered your seraphic walls and his teeth bit at the skin on your neck. A mark that would surely leave a stain in the aftermath. Having already been overstimulated by the situation itself, the stretch of his cock was horrifically sinful. You couldn’t help the fluttering of your walls as he rocked his length in and out of you at a harrowing pace. 

As he finally let go of your neck he huffed out in the intersection of your neck and shoulder. His exhales made your skin humid and left you with another layer of unwanted pleasure. Trying to bring yourself back down to your body, your hand released the binding grip it had on the bedsheets and sought refuge in Dalton’s sweatshirt, something proving to be a mistake. 

A low growl erupted from Dalton’s throat and before you could register what was happening, he had pulled himself out of you and manhandled you to get on your hands and knees. 

“What made you think that you could touch me, hmm?” 

Like a viper his hand webbed itself in your hair, gripping it at the base and pulling your body up. Adrenaline pumping, you were searching for a viable response but came up with nothing but babbles. 

“I-I don’t, I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

He controlled the movements of your head, forcing you to crane your neck and stare at him in his amber orbs one last time. Mocking your apology, he cooed at you. 

“Aww, you’re sorry? Why don’t you show me how sorry you are?”

Punctuating his statement by rushing his cock back into your ruined cunt, you cried out at the feeling. He shoved your face back into the bed, his pace now unrelenting and no longer a derivative of pleasure but rather of power. With every thrust you felt the tip of his cock assault your cervix, causing tears to well up in your eyes and dry into the sheets beneath you. It was overwhelming, feeling like all decision was stolen from you.

The only thing that filled the room now were the occasional groans from the figure above you and muffled sobs from yourself. You hated that you could feel the approaching feelings of ecstasy building in your lower stomach. The heat was building and the suffocating squeezes from your gummy walls around his cock were more than enough to alert him to your demise. 

“You gonna cum around me, you filthy slut? Enjoyed every second of this didn’t you?”

The guilt you were warding off finally made its way to the forefront of your emotions but you couldn’t find it within yourself to admit that you did, in fact, enjoy all of this. You settled for denial. Denial would save you from the inevitable self reflection you’d have to face. 

“No, no no I didn’t! I didn’t enjoy it. I didn-!” 

Your body cut you off, your orgasm washing over you reluctantly but comedically in timing. As your body shuddered around him, you heard that same derisive chuckle leave his throat mocking you yet again.

“Keep telling yourself th~aat.”

He pulled himself out of you, spraying his seed across the exposed portion of your back. The warmth felt overt, wicked, and it was something you didn’t want on you. You didn’t have the gall to face the being behind you. Instead, you let your body fall limp against the bed as the being fronting as Dalton stood up and fixed himself back into his clothes. From behind you heard him. 

“Say hi to him for me.”

Not expecting a response from you, he left Dalton’s body. His earthly form collapsing on your dorm floor. You didn’t have the strength to turn and help him up as he came to, too busy wrestling with your emotions as tears pooled out of your eyes. You heard your Dalton groan and stand up reaching to turn on the lamp light on his art desk. As the warm light illuminated the room, he turned around silence and shock devastating him as he took in the sight of you. 

You tried to quell your sobs, but your body kept shaking them out. Dalton slowly walked over to you trying to survey your body without touching you. When his eyes landed on the alabaster stains that painted your lower back a terrifying realization overcame him. 

“Y/n…? Y/n, talk to me.” 

The gentle tone was something you missed dearly despite only being gone for such a short amount of time. It comforted you knowing that the worst was over for at least right now. Dalton kneeled on the floor resting his upper body on the side of the bed. You turned your head slowly, still somewhat expecting to meet those hideous yellow eyes but when you saw the gentle and disconcerted brown pupils you were swamped with relief. Tears still were falling across your face, their frequency diminishing. 

You gave him a weak smile, a small “hey” leaving your lips. Like cracked porcelain, he wouldn’t dare touch you. He couldn’t break you more than he already had. His tone weak and regretful, he scanned over your fragile body trying to understand how this happened. He let his head fall next to yours, burying his head in sheets. 

“What did I do to you?”

[heart4gyu]

just for show || ‪mc!heeseung x mc!reader

note: this is a little angsty ?? idk i’ve been thinking about this for a while and thought i’d just finally do something with it… lmk if i should continue this blah anyways ENJOY ^_^ (not proofread, maybe a little rushed)

PT.2 HERE!!

you were nervous, of course, when you were asked to host with heeseung as your partner. i mean, who wouldn’t be? but you also couldn’t reject the opportunity that you had been waiting for for so long.

when you first met him, you just tried your best to keep your distance and still be polite. after all, you didn’t want to upset his fans or even send the wrong message about yourself.

though, you were really good at being an mc, a natural talent if you say so yourself. the jokes always hit, the dialogue was smooth, and people said that both of your visuals just fit each other perfectly.

the more time passed with you two as partners, the more comfortable you became. you were a great duo from the start but the addition of soft smiles and eye contact really added to the effect. not to mention the media reaction was great, the fans loved seeing you together.

“their chemistry is unmatched”

“don’t they look like the perfect pair”

“i need to see them do a dance challenge”

“their vocals are meant to be together”

the compliments from fans went on and on. even managers and producers would point out how great the two of you worked together. you loved all the praise and you could tell heeseung did too.

it wasn’t until he started being extra kind towards you that you started to get all the more excited for filming. he would hold the door open for you, bring you your favorite drink to set, even holding his hand out for you while you came down the stairs.

he was a gentleman. he made your heart… skip a beat… except your heart was not supposed to skip a beat for your coworker. not in this industry. but you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t help but think that if he was doing all this then maybe he felt the same.

you couldn’t ask though. the thought alone was risky enough. you pondered on these thoughts for a while, and felt yourself grow more attached to him as the days went on.

the two of you began to talk more. during hair and makeup, when you were choosing matching stage outfits, even on break, the two of you sat and talked about anything. you didn’t mind getting closer to him even if he wasn’t feeling the same tightness in his chest for you.

then one day, you both sat in your makeup chairs scrolling on your phones. “look at this,” he said, leaning over to show you something on his phone.

the video was taken by a fan. it was heeseung helping you adjust your mic pack. you remembered that day. there was technical issues and everyone had to switch out their mics and since you had already gone back on stage you were trying to fix it yourself when he helped you.

you caught a glimpse of the caption before he was returning back to his chair. ‘always so caring when it comes to her’ or something along those lines. you didn’t know, you didn’t really care either because why was he showing you that random video?

“they really love those kinds of things,” he added before you even had time to ask.

“w-what do you mean?” you stuttered, your mind suddenly starting to piece everything together.

“i mean the fans, they love our interactions,” he said, as if what he was trying to say was obvious.

“so everything you do is only for the fans to see and for you to look good?” you said, rushed and just above a whisper.

“what? y/n i didn’t mean-,” heeseung started but you were already standing up. you excused yourself to your team and quickly found the closest restroom.

you didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t bear thinking about all the sweet things he did when you thought the cameras were off. you had no reason but your heart felt like it was broken.

heeseung searched for you but by the time you came back your team was rushing to finish getting you ready for stage. you went on like nothing was wrong, performed perfectly for everyone to see.

he was worried about you the whole time. he wanted to talk to you but the second the recording finished you rushed back to your wardrobe room to change. then you and your team were gone without letting him get in another word.

you had to get out of there, because of course he would try to talk his way out of this. and you might have just believed him… you weren’t sure how you’d face him again the next day but you knew that things between you and heeseung were no longer going to be the same.

[lh44girl]

The Jacket

The afterparty for the Vegas Grand Prix 2023 was a blur of neon lights, champagne toasts, and the electrifying hum of victory. Lewis Hamilton had delivered a stellar performance on the track, and the city of sin was now his playground. In a dimly lit corner of the club, his eyes locked onto hers—a French woman with piercing eyes, a red dress that hugged her curves like a second skin, and a smirk that challenged him.

Her name was Amélie, and she exuded an effortless confidence that intrigued him. Their connection was immediate, the conversation laced with flirtation and subtle tension. By the end of the night, they found themselves in her suite, the Strip glowing below as their bodies intertwined in a haze of passion.

When morning came, Lewis slipped out quietly, leaving behind his jacket—a leather black and red bomber embroidered with his initials and a subtle nod to his championship wins. He hadn’t meant to forget it, but in his haste, he left a piece of himself in her world.

Amélie smiled when she found it. A souvenir, she thought—a tangible reminder of a fleeting night with the man everyone adored.

One Year Later – Vegas Grand Prix 2024

The air buzzed with anticipation as the 2024 Vegas Grand Prix came around. Lewis arrived at the paddock with his usual swagger, focused but relaxed. He had almost forgotten about Amélie until he saw her in the crowd. She stood near the paddock fence, her eyes catching his like a sharp hook.

“Hi there ,” he said smoothly, approaching her during a quiet moment. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Did you?” she replied with a faint smirk. “I’m just here for the spectacle.”

They talked, but the ease from the year before was gone. He saw the questions in her eyes, the unspoken expectations. The night was young and as the year before after the Grand Prix ,they enjoyed it together intertwined in the sheets As Lewis was leaving before she could get too comfortable, Lewis decided to be upfront.

“Look,” he said, his tone calm but firm, “this was… fun. But that’s all it was. I don’t do commitments. It’s not personal.”

Amélie’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in her demeanor. Her smile turned cold, almost calculating. “Of course,” she said with a shrug, her accent making the words sound deceptively light. “It’s just a fling, nothing more.”

But inside, she was seething. Not because of the rejection—she’d expected that. It was the arrogance, the casual dismissal of her as just another fleeting moment. If Lewis thought he could walk away without consequences, he was mistaken.

The Auction

Two weeks later, headlines exploded across motorsport and celebrity news outlets:

“Lost Lewis Hamilton Jacket Goes to Auction—Owner Unknown.”

The listing described the jacket in detail: “A unique piece from the seven-time World Champion, found under mysterious circumstances. A must-have for any fan.”

The bidding skyrocketed within hours, fueled by speculation and intrigue. Fans were desperate to own a piece of Lewis’s legacy, and the story only added to its allure.

When Lewis caught wind of the auction, he froze. The jacket wasn’t just a jacket—it was a custom piece, a one-of-a-kind design that no one else could possibly own. And he knew exactly where he’d left it.

His team scrambled to contain the story, but Amélie had been careful. She hadn’t named him explicitly, leaving just enough ambiguity to keep the scandal alive. The media was relentless, speculating about how the jacket had ended up in someone else’s possession and what it meant for Lewis’s personal life.

Confrontation

The next time Lewis saw Amélie, it was just before his final dance with Mercedes at abudabi Gp , where she wore the same red dress from the night they met. He cornered her in a quiet hallway, his jaw tight, his voice low and controlled.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers. “What do you want?”

Amélie tilted her head, her smirk infuriatingly calm. “Revenge is a strong word. I’d call it… balance. You play with people, Lewis. But sometimes, people play back.”

He clenched his fists, exhaling sharply. “This isn’t a game.”

“Isn’t it?” she challenged, stepping closer. “You treated me like a fling, like I didn’t matter. So, I decided to remind you that actions have consequences.”

“You’re making this worse for both of us,” he said, his voice hard but tinged with frustration.

Amélie leaned in, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “Perhaps. But at least I’m not the one pretending it’s all under control.”

With that, she walked away, leaving him standing there, the weight of her words and the fallout of her actions settling heavily on his shoulders.

The jacket ultimately sold for an astronomical sum, with rumors swirling about its origin for weeks. For Lewis, it was a stark reminder that not everything could be compartmentalized into the neat categories he preferred. And for Amélie, it was vindication—proof that even the unshakable Lewis Hamilton could be thrown off balance.even though she loved that jacket & kept it a secret hidden in her closet,wearing it from time to time on her bare body just to feel hugged by Lewis from that night. She never wanted the money nor to sell it but when she felt worthless by him a man she couldn’t handle it.

[tocomplainfriend]

Responding to your post about fiction affecting reality: very well-written post and that’s something I agree with wholeheartedly!

Full disclosure: I am a Vivz supporter and don’t really interact with the critique community because of negative past experience (hence the anon), but I really liked your post as it was well-researched and brought up a lot of points that I did agree on. Mostly that, as you evidenced, “it’s just fiction” isn’t a great argument for poorly portraying a serious concept when there can be tangible consequences for that portrayal. And you gave some really striking examples.

In terms of Hazbin, it is not that I believe that Val’s portrayal as an abuser (and consequently Angel’s as a victim) lacks any impact, but instead that it adds a positive one. This isn’t something I’ve researched so the evidence I have of this is personal experience, but as you said in your post that media can affect real life I felt inspired to add to that conversation with how it personally affected me.

So I was aware rationally that a common result of abuse/SA is hypersexuality, like I’d seen that on psychology blogs and such but never really understood it. I’m ashamed to say I thought it was a little weird and very rare. Hazbin was what finally challenged that notion with me. Being able to see how abuse looks and attribute those events to Angel’s actions step-by-step made something click in my head. I even remember that shortly after seeing that episode, I apologized to one of my friends (a survivor themselves) over some judgmental comments I’d recently made over hypersexuality. Said friend also watched Hazbin with me and it’s the reason they talk more openly to me now and we’re a lot closer. Val’s “stupid” behavior in the show and mentioned in Vivz’s comments did not lessen the impact that episode had on me, or make it unbelievable to me that Val could be manipulative. If anything I understand more now that abusers don’t always appear as psychopathic masterminds. And I know my friend finds comments like the Mean Girls one funny and they tell me it’s empowering to make fun of Val’s incompetence.

That’s not the only positive influence Hazbin’s had on me, but the most relevant to your post, I believe. It’s the reason I’m often a skeptic on most criticisms, because my lived experience tends to go against them. You said the negative impact of Val was that people are drawing fetish art of him, but the only time I ever see that art is within critic’s posts. It never shows up in my regular feed, so it looks to me like he’s equally as fetishized as every other character; the unfortunate inevitability of the internet. I can’t say I’ve seen anyone post about stories like mine about learning to understand survivors, but I have heard positive stories from survivors themselves in person and online which lead me to believe that the positive impact outweighs the negative.

Fiction has real impact, very true. But consider that might be a good thing in this case.

Thanks for being respectful!

TW: Rape, SA

I'm a victim of SA myself and that's why I wrote all of this post. If you got something positive out of this piece of media, that's great. Same with victims that saw potion and were okay with it- that valid as much as the people that didn't like it at all. I recommend watching many others shows yourself (or movies, books, whatever) will help you out with sorts of topics in bigger ways. I understand you feel like you got something good out if (and I'm glad) but I do need to say, this is minimal in comparison to other media you could consume regarding the topic!

I personally suffer with Hypersexuality, and the treatment in the show (and merch and otherwise) I found completely wrong. Even if you got to a good understatement of the topic, please put research into it (also outside Tumblr for that matter! There are better places to find stuff about!). Thank you also for admitting your faults over your treatment of hypersexuality and apologizing for it. Many people will never let themselves grasp this concept, so thank you.

If you took Valentino's comparison to Mean Girls or Powerpuff Girl as a way of making fun of him, that's you. I found it, personally, terrible. Specially cause many comments regarding that (that I put on the post) were people actively disregarding the topic at hand. Saying that Valentino is just a karen, or He is Bubbles coded, feels so out of the realm of everything (the last one didn't feel like making fun of him). I don't like the comparison of an active sexual predator to a mean high school girl or a kinder garden girl that's regarded as bubblely or dumb. Feel like you should reach into his actions over It feels diminishing to me and other people (who also complained about this themselves).

People should be extremely careful of what they portray about this topic in media. Other stuff written in Hazbin or Helluva Boss regarding R-pe jokes also is extremely disgusting to me. Never forget that if you think this portrayal is ok, one episode apart it's a gang r-pe jokes towards Sir Pen... and an r-pe joke towards Moxxie in Spring Brakers. Which I find extremely disrespectful to do and adds to r-pe culture as much as any other r-pe jokes (general or towards men) in media. Especially when they want to portray it in a serious way with Angel, where was that energy then? (Don't say Viv didn't write that, she liked a tweet about the Sir pen joke, and the spring braker is written by Viv and Brandon.)

Also, about manipulation:

The tweet right below says that "He isn't manipulating them" because he is too stupid to do so. Responding "The Vees are just meangirls" it's crazy to me.

About "You said the negative impact of Val was that people are drawing fetish art of him, but the only time I ever see that art is within critic’s posts. It never shows up in my regular feed"

Val has being fetishized by the crew itself! The person (who is not an SA/r-pe victim said by themselves, who has being open of shipping ValxAngel and being into r-pe porn) is the one that produce the whole poison part of the episode (also based on his previously non canon ValxAngel comic). You could also go throught the people Viv's responds and likes and it's mutuals with, and they also do the same thing as this crew-member (Raph). Congrats that it doesn't appear in your timeline, tho. If this art appears in a critic post, it is because it's being criticized or brought up to make a point.

[It's not on my blog yet, but I don't like receiving double ask in the inbox, specially of anons! Sorry. I don't know if it's the same person or not, and I don't want to end up receiving 5 asks in my inbox again.]

[tenebriskukris]

Oshi No Ko Chapter 164 - My Thoughts/Analysis

It seems the authors have somehow managed to pull off a chapter that was worse than I could have intentionally come up with myself. Spoilers for Oshi No Ko Chapter 164 below.

This chapter starts off with a montage of events that have absolutely no relevance to the Aqua’s life hanging in the balance. How many pages was it? Three pages that could’ve been dedicated to the actual plot rather than a Windows Powerpoint Slideshow. I’d be more lenient with things if there weren’t two bloody chapters left.

And now, back to Oshi No Powerpoint, we see Aqua’s probable death. Nine panels of a slideshow that could’ve easily been folded into the past three or chapters. More than half of the chapter at this point has just been close to, if not completely superfluous. This “death” scene might as well have been thrown out because last chapter’s ending could’ve been enough to put the nail in the coffin for any hope of survival for Aqua and this series’ ending being somewhere even remotely close to decent. 

I don’t even care that Akane is basically infodumping everyone’s reactions to this travesty and her thoughts on Aqua’s death. If the police found his body, that means it’s over. They’re not going to mistake Aqua’s body for Hikaru’s especially since Akane mentions that the damage to the corpse was minor. I guess that confirms that Aqua’s dead, huh. As sad as Akane’s reactions are, I just can’t bring myself to care about the writing equivalent of someone’s shit being smeared onto a plate and having it actually being published. It’s an insult to all the well written manga that only have a fraction of success this godawful manga has garnered thanks to one lucky anime adaptation. 

I’d heard off the grapevine that one of the author’s other mangas that wasn’t Kaguya-sama was axed and if This is the kind of output that the author has been churning out, then that cancellation is more than deserved. These last ten chapters might as well have torched the series. I wouldn’t trust the authors to teach a fucking high school writing class, let alone go anywhere close to writing a popular manga again.

Alright. Fine. Final thoughts on the chapter. I’d like the time investment that this manga stole from me back. I don’t even feel the need to rub my braincells together to type out a competent analysis of a chapter that was just so objectively garbage from almost every angle that you’d think that they were trying to completely trying to nuke the manga’s quality. With how these past chapters have been going, it’s not the worst media ending I’ve ever seen, but it’s certainly up there. At least in the top 20 at best, and we’re not even fully over.

On a more serious note, it’s hard to meet this chapter where it is mostly because I don’t want to get my boots dirty in the filth that it’s swimming in. It’s difficult to meet the manga halfway and actually putting effort into analyzing something that the authors obviously didn’t even put a smidgen of effort into in terms of anything but the art. It’s almost the inverse of trying to analyze that one piece of installation art that is literally a urinal. If the creator of said piece of art wasn’t an actual good artist and didn’t put thought into Why the bloody thing was a urinal, then people wouldn’t be debating endlessly over it even to this day. Unfortunately, this manga isn’t a urinal, though with the quality of it being so piss poor, it might as well deserve that title. There are children’s television shows that can handle themselves better than the ending of this series even on a bad day.

So. Aqua’s dead. Probably. They found his body so he’s probably dead. Doesn’t mean that Crow Girl can’t deus ex machina him back and reincarnate him again. Would not even be surprised at this point. Maybe he’ll reincarnate as Ruby’s child. That feels about on the level of garbage writing that this series has been doing. I went on a whole tirade on Why this was a bad decision in my last analysis, and oh boy the authors proved me right again. This chapter was executed so badly that I think there are some people who have zero writing experience who could end it better. It’s actually impressive.

With this chapter out, it almost invalidates the last one. Which is certainly Not what you want to do when you only have a handful of chapters left. Hell, you could probably just read 162 and 164 and skip 163 and you would lose absolutely nothing but Aqua pitying himself for making some objectively bad decisions, because somehow Nino trying to stab Ruby was forgotten by the narrative at large. So was Akane, by the way. If Aqua really wanted to get rid of Hikaru in a more subtle manner he could’ve very easily just asked for her help for an alibi after getting rid of Hikaru. It’s all just so idiotic.

It’s a fucking crime that we don���t get to see Ruby in this chapter. All these side characters get a turn on the react couch to Aqua’s death and Ruby is just a footnote in this entire thing when she was the reason that Aqua went to these extremes in the first place. I’d say that the authors don’t know how to handle their characters, but that implies that they knew how to handle them in the first place, which is very debatable. The cracks in the series may have become more evident as it leapt toward the finish line, but they were still there at the start. They were just hidden because there was still decent writing that distracted from the rot hiding beneath the surface.

From what I gather, this arc’s title was Toward The Stars and Dreams. I have a better title for it. Toward Burning The Manga Tankobons Down. The funny thing is that all the emotions I have for this manga have crystallized into apathy with all the horrible decisions the manga is taking. I didn’t feel sad at the end of the chapter when everyone was reacting to Aqua’s death. It felt too much like a slideshow of things that should’ve been given more time in the spotlight. It’s just a feeling of “oh, that’s how they’re going with this? huh. that’s garbage!” and then go on my merry way. If you’re losing the emotional investment that your readers have with the work as as you sprint toward the finish line, then you’ve done something really wrong.

Two chapters left. Let’s just get on with it. I’m not going to be getting my time investment back with this godawful series, but at least I can put a little bow on it and rip it to shreds when its over.

[theboywithburninghands]

So I finally got it done, yet another Funnybunny piece. the longest one I think. But I have to confess that this one is a little bit lighter on the romance, since I worry a bit about the formula getting stale. But the upside to this is that I actually got to include all six performers this time. This one is more of my own personal headcanons about what kind of music the cast enjoys, but the Funnybunny enthusiasts will get your food if you pay attention throughout and stick around 'til the end. Also it's semi-interactive; there's a ton of links to outside media in the text, and it's all links to music. If a line is underlined, it's a link to a song. Okay, shutting up now, enjoy. The Jitterbug

Dinner time after another adventure. The Performers were all gathered at the table, picking at their food. It was one of the rare moments of awkward silence between the six of them. The adventure that day hadn’t been anything particularly noteworthy… well, for Caine anyway. It was music themed, a romp through a lush theater populated by anthropomorphic instruments. The goal was to track down the six missing members of the grand orchestra and bring them to the stage within an hour long time limit. The intention was to have the group split up and find each band member individually, a plan which would have gone swimmingly if Gangle had been able to persuade her target to return. She found herself too meek to tell the guy to come with her, which, if it hadn’t been for some timely intervention from Jax, may have cost them the adventure. They were “treated” to a performance by the grand orchestra of instrument people, which consisted mostly of improv and a few subpar renditions of classical pieces. They played Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, although they only managed to pull off “Spring” before scrapping the rest for being “too boring” and moving onto an improv piece. Said piece sounded like someone instructed the orchestra to play The William Tell Overture before putting said orchestra on a bus and driving it off a cliff. The performers’ ears were still ringing after the cacophony of noise, and thus weren’t particularly in a conversational mood. 

Gangle: Mmmgh… eh- Gangle appeared to be struggling to hold her fork. There was a crude double knot in her ribbon right about where her hand would be, and it prevented her from gripping her fork hard enough to stab into her digital pot roast. She managed to spear one prong onto a piece of meat, but it fell with an almost comical plop onto the edge of the table before dropping out of sight beneath her chair. Gangle: *whine of defeat* 

Pomni looked at Jax, who was watching Gangle struggle with minor amusement. The purple rabbit met her gaze and his faint smirk disappeared. 

Jax: What?

Pomni: You know what. *she points at him, then at Gangle with her fork*

Jax gave an exaggerated sigh and got out of his chair, slinking to Gangle’s side and taking her ribbon with the knot in it. 

Jax: Hold still, Crybaby. *he takes the knot between his fingers and undoes it*

Gangle: …Uh… thank you, Jax. *she experimentally curls the ribbon around, it’s undamaged*

Pomni: Is there anything else you wanted to say to Gangle?  

Jax: Wanted to say? No. 

Pomni shot him an exasperated glare. Jax sighed and turned back to Gangle without looking her in the eyes. 

Jax: *speaking rapidly and insincerely* Gangle, I’m sorry I used you as rope to tie up the last band member. *looks at Pomni* There, we happy? 

Pomni: Are you okay, Gangle? Gangle: Oh… um… yeah! I’m okay, uh… I-I’ve been in worse… binds. Eheheh… uh… I’m okay. 

Pomni motions Jax back to his seat. The rabbit plods back to his spot at the table and sits, resting his cheek on his hand sullenly and poking at his food. 

Ragatha: Wow… I never thought I’d see the day! Jax actually said sorry! Jax: Yeah, whatever, toots. I save our butts with some quick thinking and I’m still the bad guy. 

Zooble: Don’t be an @$$. There were six of us and one of him. There could’ve been a way to get him back with the others without having to hurt Gangle. 

Jax: Oh really, and what bright idea did you have, Hodge-Podge? *in a babyish voice* Asking him nicewy? Zooble: You wanna lose an eye, limp&!$#?!  *holds up butter knife* 

Ragatha: Guys… *pinching the bridge of her nose*

Pomni: Alright, stop! Can we please just &%$#ing stop?! My ears hurt and I don’t need you two shouting! Just… sit down and shut up. Both of you. 

Zooble: …Tch. Fine. 

Jax: Yeah. White flag or whatever. You hear me? White Flag. *he waves a napkin around half-heartedly before tossing it over his shoulder*

The six performers continued eating in silence, everyone’s mood set right back to bad. However, one of Jax’s ears twitched and his pot roast froze halfway to his mouth. 

Jax: …What’s that? Ragatha: What’s what? 

Jax: Shh! Listen!

Everyone, sans Kinger, stopped eating and listened. There was a continuous but very faint sound coming from somewhere. 

Gangle: I-I hear it! It sounds like… music?

Zooble: Good music. Like an orchestra. 

Ragatha: Where’s it coming from?

The performers turned their heads to better locate where the pleasant song was coming from. After a couple of seconds of listening, their eyes all fell upon Kinger, who was still eating his dinner. He froze in the middle of cutting his pork chop and slowly looked up to meet everyone’s gaze.

Kinger: I’m being observed… 

Jax: It’s cuz you’re making music.

Kinger: I’m not making music. I’m eating dinner. 

Ragatha: No, Jax is right, Kinger. Do you have something in your robe? 

Kinger looked down at his robes and patted around inside them. He froze when he felt a foreign object clinging to the white inside and pulled it out. Inside his robes was a creature about the size of a baseball, that looked like a mix between a ladybug and the grille of a microphone. The orchestral score emanating from the creature reached a swell before suddenly-

Bug: LOOK! YO!-

Kinger yelped and dropped the creature as it suddenly exploded into a rap verse. It lands on the table and stands back up, bopping along to the rhythm of the song playing from its grille-like carapace. 

Zooble: What the #%!! is that thing? 

Kinger: Oh! I remember you! *reaches his hand out to pet the small creature* I put her in my robes back at the theater. 

Pomni: I guess Caine missed deleting it when he sent us back here for the night… 

Kinger: She’s not an it! Her name is… *there’s a drawn-out pause as Kinger struggles to remember what he called the creature* ...Layla!

Upon hearing this, the microphone-bug suddenly plays a guitar riff that makes everyone jump. Ragatha: I know that song… *beams* That’s a REAL song! From outside! It’s by uh- 

Zooble: Hang on. This thing plays-

Kinger: Layla.

Zooble: …Layla plays music? 

Pomni: That’s… I thought that was impossible… 

Gangle suddenly appeared beside Kinger, moving quicker than anyone had ever seen her move before. 

Gangle: Layla! Play uh, play… Play Melt by Hatsune Miku!

Jax: Play what by who?

The microphone-bug, which was apparently named Layla, began to play a sugary-sweet J-pop song, quiet at first before bursting to life. Gangle stood and watched the creature with a twinkle in the eyes of her mask, her mouth wide open in delight and her ribbon-hands on her cheeks. 

Ragatha: Oh, oh! Can I have a turn? Uh, Layla, play Respect by Aretha Franklin! 

Layla began to play a funky soul song, Ragatha giggling girlishly and beginning to dance along to the rhythm on the spot. Her energy was so infectious that the other performers couldn’t help but watch, especially as she began to lip-sync to the song with an invisible microphone. 

Gangle: giggles 

Jax: My turn. Layla! Play… Sandstorm by Darude. 

Everyone gave a collective groan as Layla began playing a familiar Finnish techno beat. 

Jax: Whaaat? I like this song! You guys have no taste. 

Ragatha: Well, you picked it! Now you gotta dance to it! Come on!

Jax: No I- HEY! 

Ragatha grabbed Jax’s hands and pulled him up onto his feet. 

Ragatha: Come on! Follow my lead! 

Ragatha began to dance along with the music, Jax scoffed and crossed his arms.

Pomni: *trying not to giggle* You made your bed Jax, time to lay in it.

Jax: Oh, have I? Layla, play Everywhere at The End of Time.

Zooble: Ew, Jax, what the h€!!? 

Kinger scooped Layla up before she could begin playing the six-hour depressing behemoth of an album Jax requested. 

Kinger: Everyone, stop! You’re going to make her overheat! *he pets the little microphone bug* There, there, you did good. 

Gangle: Aw, is it over..?

Zooble: Kinger’s got a point. We don’t want to push that thing’s-

Kinger: Layla.

Zooble: -Layla’s processing too hard. You know how weird NPC’s get when they’re overclocked. 

Pomni: Overclocked..? What does- Actually, I don’t want to know.

Kinger: Layla can stay in my room. I have other bugs in there so she won’t get lonely.

Jax: So Kinger just gets to keep the thing that plays real music in his room? 

Kinger: Layla.

Jax: Whatever.

Ragatha: Well, he did find her… and he did go through all the effort of sneaking her back to the tent. That would make her his.

Jax: So if I found a dozen donuts, I’d get to eat all of ‘em and not share, since they’re my donuts. 

Zooble: You’d probably do that anyway…

Jax: I’d share ‘em with everyone but you, Zooble.

Gangle: I’d get a donut, really? 

Pomni yanked on one of Jax’s shoulder straps, a sharp reminder to behave.

Pomni: I’m sure Kinger wouldn’t mind sharing Layla now and then. Is that okay with you, Kinger?

Kinger: Don’t eat her! *holds her away from Pomni*

Pomni: Wh- nobody is going to eat her!

Gangle: Layla isn’t a donut… 

Kinger: Oh. Well. Maybe. As long as you’re gentle with her and don’t let her overheat. 

Ragatha: We can all promise that, right everybody? 

There was a murmur of affirmation, but then everyone looked at Jax. 

Jax: Oh for- *sigh* fine. Yes. I won’t hurt the bug thing.

Kinger: Layla.

Jax: *deep breath, phony enthusiasm* LaYlA!

Ragatha: I’ve gotta say, that’s the most fun I’ve had in a while. Real fun, not Caine fun.

Zooble: I didn’t peg you for an Aretha Franklin fan, Rags.

Ragatha: Yeah? What kind of music did you think I liked? *smiles, amused*

Zooble: I dunno. Sara Bareilles or Taylor Swift. Maybe that song Wildfire. 

Ragatha: Oh, so horse girl stuff, huh? I see how it is, Zooble. *she’s still grinning playfully* 

Jax: We didn’t get to hear what you liked, Hodge-Podge. Who are you to judge? 

Zooble: Call me Hodge-Podge again, Jax, and I’ll tie your- 

Kinger: Frank Sinatra…

Zooble: Huh?

Kinger: That’s my favorite. Frank Sinatra. *he sings a little to Layla* “I’ve got you… under my skin.”

Layla: *Playing a snippet from the real song* “I’ve got you… deep in the heart of me.”

Gangle: Awwww…

Zooble: *they get up* I’m tired. I’ll see you all in the morning. *they walk towards backstage before pausing for a moment* …I like Janelle Monáe by the way. 

Ragatha: G’night Zooble. It is getting pretty late… I’ll be right behind you. 

Steadily, the performers left the stage and headed back to their rooms. Pomni left not long after Ragatha, rubbing her eyes. It was weird how her eyelids still felt heavy despite her body being a bunch of pixels… 

She wished Ragatha good night as she passed her in the hallway, went into her bedroom and flopped onto the bed. It had been a pretty bad day, like most other days in this technicolor hell. But it had an okay conclusion. It was nice to hear real music again, but she wished she had gotten a turn. Although,  she did wonder a little… if that bug could play songs from the outside world, maybe there was a way to get out of here after all… 

There was a knock at the door. One thing at a time. Pomni rolled out of bed and shuffled to the door to open it. She smiled a little seeing Jax leaning against the doorframe, and the rabbit gave her a smarmy grin right back.

Jax: Leavin’ me behind, huh? Pretty cold, Pompom. 

Pomni: You’re a big boy. You can handle being alone for a little bit. Also, you’re knocking now. 

Jax: You should note the date and time. *he strolls into her room* So, what’s the plan tonight, Pomni? 

Pomni: I’m too tired for much of anything… you wanna just cuddle? 

Jax: Sure. But how about a little music? *he takes Layla out of the front pocket of his overalls*

Pomni: Jax! Where did you get- did you steal her from Kinger? 

Jax: You’ll be happy to know I asked before I took. *he sets Layla on top of one of the oversized building blocks in Pomni’s room* 

Pomni: R-Really? He actually let you borrow her? How did you convince him..?

Jax: You really think I can’t be charming? You fell for me, didn’t you?

Pomni: *blush* …Alright, alright. 

The two of them crawled into bed, climbing under the covers, Pomni scooting her smaller frame backwards into Jax’s arms. The rabbit held her close, resting his chin on top of her head.  

Jax: So. Whatcha wanna listen to?

Pomni: …You know what? You can go first. 

[somethingwittyandweird]

Indivisible (2019), Or, Coming To Terms With Maybe Not Liking Everything About A Game

A couple days ago, I finished playing through Lab Zero’s Indivisible- a game that’s been on my backlog for some time. And in playing it, I had enough Capital T Thoughts that I felt I needed to write them out. This game gave me mixed feelings to a degree I’m not sure I’ve had before- while ultimately also providing the solution to that conundrum.

I’ll preface this by saying I’m not a nitpicky guy. Just the opposite, in fact- a piece of media has to do a lot noticeably wrong before I’ll feel like I have to comment on it. I’ve played a lot of games that are generally regarded as “not great” and still come off with largely positive opinions on them. I can acknowledge flaws or places where potential improvements could be felt, but generally if a game is even mostly good or fun, I’ll play it through, and consider it totally worth my time to have done so. 

When I first got my hands on this game, I was excited, it seemed like there was so much to like. And, getting into it, there absolutely was. The game’s visuals were the sort of treat that only a studio with as much character animation experience as Lab Zero could deliver on. (Their other major title, Skullgirls, is packed to the brim with nothing but the highest quality 2D animation.) Visually appealing character designs, vibrant environment designs, heck, there was even dynamic shading applied with objects in the environment. The combat gameplay, too, presented itself extremely well, offering a really satisfying blend of, again, Lab Zero’s previous fighting game experience translated into action RPG battle mechanics. I could feel the system encouraging setting up long combo strings by chaining together a huge variety of party attacks, and each new party member I recruited offered something cool and new for their playstyle. 

But, despite these great things about it, I sort of fell off Indivisible after a while, and didn’t pick it up again for what felt like years. And it was only on my endless quest to shovel away the backlog that I remembered I’d never seen the rest of this game and wanted to give it a try. And, though everything I remember liking was still intact… This playthrough was where the cracks showed and I understood a bit more about what subconsciously would have spurred me to set it down.

The thing is that there are a lot of aspects of the game that do nail that satisfying gamefeel. But there are aspects of the game that don’t, and I encountered them often enough that I couldn’t ignore them. I wandered lost for a while because I couldn’t dig up a good walkthrough online (not the game’s fault, but its low amount of discussion and exploration on the net is telling in and of itself). Then the map exploration started to feel less polished, navigating obstacles felt janky in ways that took me out of it (I got the sense this is where the developers were more out of their comfort zone compared to the aspects more aligned with their prior experience).  And then I found out that some of the playable characters didn’t have full movesets. And then there were indicators on the map that I again had to resort to searching on the net, only to find out that nothing was there and, though there had been plans to put something there, it was all but impossible for that to ever occur.

It wouldn’t be fair not to acknowledge that Indivisible was screwed pretty majorly by its circumstances. Controversy sprung up around the studio head of Lab Zero, which led to multiple resignations, failed negotiations, and ultimately the closure of the studio, ceasing development for this game. The game I held, the one with notable gaps in the content, wasn’t the devs’ final vision, but now it wouldn’t ever be. And that was, again, no fault of the game, but it felt bad nonetheless. And all of my problems, it seemed, were like that- whenever I kept coming back to the game, I’d be impressed anew by the things that shone about it, but then I’d put it back down again, not out of frustration or the conscious thought of “wow this part of the game makes me want to quit”, but just a generalized disappointment that things had turned out the way they had.

So, where did that leave me? I’d already decided it was worth finishing the game. I just didn’t know how to come to terms with being so mixed. Again, it’s so rare that I play a game and don’t come away with a generally positive experience- or else I try a game, quickly decide it’s not for me, and move on. There was enough that was good about Indivisible that I absolutely liked the game. I just couldn’t quite like it as much as I wanted to- as much as I was used to. Still, I chose to see it through. 

I’m glad I did.

The ending of Indivisible involves confronting the creator goddess Kala, who wants to destroy and remake the world. She views her creation as imperfect and wants to begin anew. But, in dissuading her, you point out that no cycle before has ever been perfect either- that even if she feels she failed to completely realize her vision, that flawed things are still valuable, still interesting, still worthwhile. And though I know this ending wasn’t written to be self-referential… that’s how it resonated with me as I watched it. 

I’d been struggling to put words to how I felt- did I like this game or not, if I had this many reservations? But the ending helped me reframe that question. I didn’t have to like the whole game in order to like the game. It was okay that some things didn’t feel polished, and that there were holes where some content should be. I didn’t have to tally up the game’s positives and the game’s negatives and then only allow myself to feel it was worthwhile if the game ended up in the black. The things that I enjoyed about Indivisible- the colorful character designs, the treat-for-the-eyes animation, the engaging battle mechanics- were worth the time I spent playing the game through.

It’s not a game I’ll sing the praises of until the end of time. And it objectively sucks that it will never be the game it could have been if the devs had been allowed to see it to completion. But it’s still a game that has a lot going for it, whose merits are worthy of praise. I’m happy I decided to go back and finish it out. 

[f0point5]

I don’t want to bring up drama but I really want to know if you think the simply lovely thing is big deal or not because people are still talking about it on Twitter and I’m curious about your thoughts

Oh this is going to turn into a think piece lol.

Firstly, no, I don’t think it’s a big deal. I think unless Lando’s wins the next 30 races in a row, no one will ever remember that he once said simply lovely after winning the Dutch gp 2 years from now.

But I do get why people are talking about it now, because it’s yet another low EQ moment for Lando and people love to either hate or defend him to their last breath.

Look, I think it’s pointless to speculate about Lando’s intentions. We don’t know the guy. And that goes for people who think they “get” his humour as much as people who think he’s an ass. No one knows what he was “meaning” to do other than him. And it kind of doesn’t matter imo and here’s why.

If win a race against my friend, who is considered to be one of the best at what we do, who has had a hard time with negative media attention, whose achievement at this very circuit was met with a lot of criticism; if on top of this I am known for being “misunderstood” and “arrogant” and I’m aware that the thing I say get taken out of context…that all being the case, I wouldn’t say “simply lovely”. That is not who I am as a friend or a person, that’s not how I’d want my win to be remembered. A general cognisance of the context would tell me to make a different choice. So for me, regardless of the intention, ew.

I’d also like to point out that if it’s just a joke between friends, maybe say it to the friend who is in on the joke? Because saying “simply lovely, huh” to your race engineer isn’t a thing unless you’re bantering about that with multiple people.

We don’t know what Max thinks about it, and really he might be totally fine about it, or he might be silently seething about it or somewhere in between. Regardless, his and Lando’s relationship is his business. If that’s the company he likes to keep then who tf is anyone to say anything about that?

But we can say for ourselves whether that’s the company we’d keep in his position, or whether we find that distasteful.

As for Daniel stirring it…I said this elsewhere but as an outside viewer I’m glad he stirred it lol. Because I never like to speak when something’s pissed me off in case I look petty but I do like when other people recognise the thing. Maybe Max wouldn’t be impressed by Daniel talking about him and maybe Daniel should have just kept his mouth shut and been a bit more professional. But Daniel would know more about the spirit in which the comment was meant and how it was received than anyone on the internet. Daniel is also pretty close with Lando, he knows the “humour”.

But yeah I guess my final PSA is, even if it was meant as a joke, Max isn’t obliged to find the joke funny. Lando could have meant it with absolutely no negativity and Max could still say “I actually found it rude” and that’s okay. All these people like “oh it was obviously a joke” well maybe not everyone is laughing? We don’t know either way but “it’s a joke” it’s an exoneration in and of itself.

What it all comes down to, for me, is fuck the intention because we don’t know it. To me, the person I am, the fact that twelve seconds after winning your second Grand Prix the first thing that came to your mind was a joke about your friend? That’s the biggest dick ride in history honestly.

Statement made indeed.

[geonppangi]

now that we know that zb1 is getting a show, here are some variety content i want to see

one thing that i don’t really love about variety shows is sometimes they designate one member as the mc/judge because they have an odd number. which is fair! but also i like seeing everyone be able to participate, so i thought it’d be fun if they compete individually or in groups of 3 and then have an expert come in to moderate. so everyone can do it and it would be more educational for everyone too lmfao

also mnet if you’re reading this, feel free to steal these ideas. i want to see these happen so badly

art episode

yes this is because i want to see ricky kill it like????

but i’m also really curious to know how good the other members are at art

maybe like a the members draw each other?? and they can pair up the members who don’t know each other that well

or they can choose what medium they want to use and do like something that represents their upcoming debut like a collage or smth like that

i love mixed media can one of them pls do it

or!!!!! they can do a design contest for the fanclub mascot and we can all vote lmao

so like bts with bt21

would also be a really cute way to introduce the name like maybe the members find out at the beginning of the episode and then based on what they drew we can try to guess what our name is

the potential is endless i’m telling you

i could see them either inviting an actual artist in to help or just straight up letting them go wild

but ricky is their expert

so i just found out after writing this whole thing that jiwoong is also good at art?? ^^his art

so if he and ricky are the new experts now

i think it’d be cool to see them collaborate on a piece and it would be very chill

while in the bg you just hear the members losing it

cooking/baking episode

similar to the cake decorating they did during the finale

i’m also thinking like seventeen’s cooking segments?

we can do teams of 3

can be same format as when they were preparing for their performances on boys planet but instead of killing part, main vocalist, etc, it can be appetizer, entree, and dessert or something like that

to make it even more interesting, they can play a game to find out what ingredients they get or the secret ingredient that they have to work with

so either like the camping cooking segment or like the show mom vs chef where they get an unpopular ingredient and have to make it appetizing

OR no teams and everyone creates their own thing

and they invite a celebrity chef to come be their judge/mc

pls i need a gordon ramsay crossover

i want to see him and gyuvin interact like i cannot tell you why but yeah (also yes, gyuvin can speak english but idk how well)

halloween cosplay episode

i might be biased because i am a cosplayer

but imagine a halloween themed episode where they have to make their own costumes

maybe they’re given like different fabrics or random clothes to work with

and they can figure out their own hair, makeup, and props too

i want at least one member to try sewing like i need to see it

they could invite special guests to come and teach them how to work with stuff like worbla or a sewing machine

and then at the end they have to model all of the costumes and film a dance practice in them because ofc they do

AND THEY ALSO GO TRICK OR TREATING

dorm content

obviously we need some dorm vlogs!!

like if we could get an episode of the members balancing being idols and school for some of them

also a dorm moving in + bedroom decor episode

i’d love to see the members do challenges to win like a budget for their common space furniture

and then an ikea vlog of them trying to get furniture in a certain amount of time maybe??

or it’s a scavenger hunt for money inside of ikea while they’re simultaneously looking for furniture

also cooking vlogs or maybe the members try to host a housewarming party

i’d literally cry if they plan a housewarming and then invite their friends from boys planet to come

please i just need to see dog union and junrae reunite

and imagine if we can get wumuti, seo won, woongki, and hwan hee

this is purely wish fulfillment but i want it so badly

and i want to see their skincare + morning routines

closet tour?? the boys shared their clothes so often on the show that it was hard to tell who wears what normally

pc decorating episode

could be an album unboxing episode

and if the album itself has any sort of interactive element like how seventeen’s semicolon had the weaving kit then they could assemble that

they can also get toploaders to decorate

it can be based on the pcs they pull because i have a strange desire to know what their pc luck is like

also i know this is sort of blasphemy but it is their album so ig they get a pass

but imagine journaling but with the photobook and maybe stickers if they include any

in case you can’t tell, i want to see how artistic the boys are lmfao

amusement park episode

we all knew this was coming

why are we surprised

hear me out, it’s a combo of an escape room and an amusement park

so like to escape the amusement park they need to collect clues which are scattered all around the park

some of the clues require them to go on the ride first

they can also be split up into teams of 3 maybe?? to see who can get out first

and the team that gets out last has to go on a ride that the other two teams pick

school episode

i want yujin to be the teacher

and the rest of them are the students

and they all play some sort of character but like switched

watch sung hanbin and zhang hao switch

jiwoong and gyuvin

matthew and gunwook

this is purely because i need to see gunwook cringe while doing aegyo

gunwook our canadian oppa

tbh i think matthew can pull off the student president character

ooohhhh and he should debate too

and i saved the best for last

taerae and ricky switch, outfits and all

THINK ABOUT IT

LIKE RICH EXCHANGE STUDENT TAERAE

AND LOSER (AFFECTIONATE) FASHION TERRORIST RICKY

---

show and tell?? mini series

like i want each member to teach the other members a specialty of theirs

ig ricky’s was the art episode already so pretend that’s here

cafe episode

yes this was inspired by my idea of hanbin teaching all of the members how to tut and waack

but i feel like that’s too easy, so how about having hanbin bring the group to his family’s cafe and they run it for a day LMAO

or maybe help run it…

and hanbin’s mom can teach them (not hanbin bc cold injeolmi toast…)

i want gyuvin waiter like i cannot tell you why but

and taerae too bc the more i can see him smile the lighter my soul feels

and matthew waiter for the same reason ofc!!!

jiwoong making coffee, pls he has such barista vibes

hanbin on making hot desserts because i want him to redeem himself

and gunwook and yujin on decorating desserts because i also need them to redeem themselves for their cake

ricky on sodas and smoothies because his mocktail video was just too smooth like that’s what won me over

zhang hao on tea and tea lattes

idrk why but i feel like he’d be good on whisking matcha

like the violinist wrist yknow

strings ensemble episode

also zhang hao teaching them how to play violin

he can also play piano and gunwook said that one of his goals was to learn how to play

so what if they make their own little strings ensemble with gunwook piano solo

you cannot tell me that gyuvin doesn’t give off double bass and taerae doesn’t give off cello energy

as a cellist, i’m claiming taerae

ricky would probably play violin, like it has very expensive vibes

and hanbin too because haobin violin lessons…can you see the vision

i think yujin and matthew would play viola. i don’t have any reasoning but ik some violists and they all have that energy

jiwoong gives me saxophone vibes 💀 but since we can’t have that, i’ll also give him the cello

it has a really warm and deep sound?? idk i feel like it suits him but maybe i’m going insane

wouldn’t it be so cute if they played an arrangement of their debut title track

also not alone would be soooooo cute

learning english episode

with our canadian oppa matthew

i think it’d be so funny if ricky and gyuvin pretended like they didn’t know any english

ik vancouverites don’t really have a “canadian accent” but i want matthew to mess with them by doing like a newfoundland accent so badly

or he just starts speaking french but with like an english accent and we see how long it takes the other members to figure it out

i feel like ricky would know but not say anything

debate episode

so as we know, gunwook is a debate kid (i say that both lovingly and maliciously)

so essentially going seventeen’s debate night LMAO

i want the members to vote on something that they fundamentally believe to be true

like what way should toilet paper go

and then put them on the opposite team

BUT we follow actual debate rules so they have to do research and cite their sources

prepare objections, etc etc

all within like 15 minutes lmfao

---

musical episode pt 2

but i specifically want them to write the whole thing

one team can write the script, another can write the music and choreograph and another can build the sets and plan costumes

as the resident actor, i nominate jiwoong to write the script and help direct

maybe gunwook for writing too? he’s a nerd and a debate kid so i feel like his writing must be good

MUSIC TEACHER HAO WITJ DANCE TEACHER BIN AND SINGER SONGWRITER TAERAE

literally the dream team i’m sobbing

ricky on set design and costumes because he’s an art kid so i trust him

and matthew too because his cake in the final episode was actually really cute??

not sure where i’d put gyuvin and yujin? maybe gyuvin on script writing so he can be with gunwook because i will never get sick of watching them interact

and yujin on set design?? but also yujin and jiwoong (T ^ T) and i want to see the sheer chaos that is gyuvin trying to build a set

maybe they can play rock paper scissors to figure it out

actually just a whole school performance episode or mini series??

so each episode could be a different performance that they put on as a school recital

to perform for their parents LMAO (yes this is just the artist battle special star creator stage)

i need them to do a spoken word poem and or interpretive dance because i had to do that in elementary school and i need somebody else to share in my suffering

some ideas include: a poem about the importance of colours?? and a series of tableaus depicting the creation of the Canadian Pacific Railway

they could also do church plays but instead of stories from the bible they can be like korean folktales or disney ripoffs

and ofc they have to do the awkward singing and then doing hand movements that correlate to the lyrics of the song

could also be done with their debut track btw

i want fancams of all of this

sports day

you know i had to do it

isac also works!! but idk if they're doing that so um

so with the summer olympics coming up in 2024, i think it’d be so funny if they do some summer olympics sports

volleyball segment for gunwook our resident haikyuu nerd please

and they can wear the uniforms from the anime too

please please please wakeone think about it

also imagine a skateboarding episode?? idk why maybe it’s the north american but i feel like matthew would be surprisingly good at it?

also surfing?????

idk if the surfing scene in korea is good but if not they can always take a trip to hawaii or smth i certainly will not be complaining

esports + pc building episode

listen we have 3 whole gamers in the group, this is kind of perfect

the gamers can be the captains of each team

i want the lame ass esports poses and intros

and the stats too like imagine

ALSO if you guys have seen the trash taste pc building special but think about the potential

so it’s partly based on skill and also how well they can build a pc

so they build the pcs and then play using the pcs

there should be a separate prize or bonus for building it the fastest (but not necessarily the best)

also i want the editing thing where they have an expert build the pc properly and then every time that the boys fuck up, the clip of them messing up is played right after the expert does it the correct way

think about the chaos

mock trial episode

same sort of thing as the debate night but they have to represent their clients

i feel like sung hanbin would be the defendant like i have no evidence for this but i want someone to indict him

he just seems like he would be really good at pretending to have not committed a crime

and then 2 attorneys and 2 witnesses on each side

prosecutors: gunwook and zhang hao (imagine the haobin tension guys) (also gunwook just has major prosecution vibes idk what to tell you)

defence attorneys: matthew and gyuvin

prosecution’s witnesses: yujin and taerae

defence’s witnesses: jiwoong and ricky

i feel like gunwook and zhang hao would be really good and logical

but like how can you not want to trust matthew and gyuvin like they’re so sweet

also i need them for comedy

gyuvin would 100% object to random shit and i need that

i’m sorry but i can’t imagine yujin and taerae being very good witnesses so ig it balanced out gunwook and zhang hao?

and jiwoong and ricky would be AMAZING witnesses

like it took skill to not be evil edited so ricky would be able to keep his calm so well and jiwoong too like i would trust whatever they say

and the judge could be an actual lawyer they brought on as the expert for the episode

and the jury can be the staff lmfao

now what is hanbin’s crime you might be asking?

being too handsome tbh i have no idea maybe the fans can vote on it the week before or smth LMFAO

---

volunteering mini series!

it really warms my heart to see people give back to the community, especially idols because it inspires a lot of fans to do so too!

it’d be really nice if maybe as a holiday special? they went around to different places and volunteered to spread awareness for the causes

maybe it’d be better if they split up?

the members can choose what they’re passionate about too

my personal suggestions/ideas would be:

a retirement home (they can perform music for the elderly people there. i’m thinking zhang hao and taerae would be a good combo)

a hospital

a soup kitchen

a community centre (i’d love to see hanbin and gunwook teach after school dance lessons to children)

and the proceeds for the episode could go towards different charities or programs for these places (ie if they need more funding or renovations) as well as a link for fans to donate more to these places

---

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

I’m looking forward to your thoughts on Transformers One when you get the chance to see it on your side of the pond. Speaking as a non Transformers fan, I’d say it’s one of the best films to come out of the franchise in the 21st century, and very much accessible to those who aren’t as familiar with the lore. Without going into spoilers, I definitely enjoyed the slow but inevitable tragedy of seeing Orion Pax and D-16, best friends and partners, turning into lifelong enemies, Optimus Prime and Megatron. You knew it was always going to happen, but you so wish it didn’t.

//Okay, your message is very well timed, because the film finally came out, and I got a chance to watch it.

//Now, let me make it clear that I am not a Transformers fan, at least not traditionally. I think it may primarily be because of the Bayverse movies, but I've never found those films to have much in the way of entertainment besides seeing giant robots smacking the shit out of each other.

//Which...well, at the end of the day, that's all it really needs to be for simple entertainment purposes, but the big issue is that there's far more to the Transformers than being giant robots. There are genuine stories and characters there, but the problem with the live action movies is that those stories aren't memorable or deep enough to get you to really care about the characters.

//Transformers One fixes that, and does so much more.

//The film is still relatively new, and I don't want to go too deep into it, but I am going to go into spoiler territory, so I'll put my thoughts and feelings on that film under the cut for those who have seen it/don't care about spoilers, but this is my basic review of it:

//Okay, so first things first...IGN should never be allowed to review shit again.

//A Mediocre score of 5, fucking turn it in.

//Okay, so tdlr; I thought this movie was fantastic, in case I hadn't already made that fact obvious. The basic premise alone is enough to grip me, because it's clearly a character driven movie as opposed to one that's about, as I said before, big bots slapping on each other.

//Transformers One was directed by Toy Story 4 creator, Josh Cooley, and it's the untold origin story of two Cybertronian Minors named Orion Pax and D-16, who as the movie progresses, completely change the fate of their homeland Cybertron, and go from being best friends to sworn enemies as they respectively become Optimus Prime and Megatron.

//And even without its plot, the film is excellent. The CGI animation is the greatest in any Transformers movie to date, and the voice acting by Chris Hemsworth, Brian Tyree Henry, and everyone else was outstanding.

//As I said already, I'm not a big Transformers fan, but this movie alone has the potential to change that, because this is easily the most peak piece of Transformers media I have seen in my whole life. This might sound corny, but this movie really gives you the heart of what makes Transformers cool.

//It's really easy to empathize with the struggles of what Optimus and Megatron go through in this movie, and that empathy makes you so emotionally gripped by the story in a way that a lot of modern movies, especially Transformers movies, can do to you.

//Speaking of which, the film's standout character is D-16, who eventually becomes Megatron. He is a really well-written character, and it's amazing to watch him spiral into lunacy. It's enthralling to see the hatred he displays after realizing the harsh realities of his society, and it's even more thrilling when he finally admits that he is Megatron the destroyer.

//It's like one of those stories where a child who has been tormented turns into the bully himself in order to exact revenge on those who have wronged him. It's a sympathetic, frightening, and bizarre tale.

//(Also, I know many people pointed this out after the movie, but I love the fact that as D-16 progressively gets worse and worse in the movie, his eyes progressively go from yellow to red, and I think that's really clever)

//In contrast to the Bayverse combat, which only feature sparks, machine blobs stabbing and pounding, and the sound of metal scrapping on itself, the action scenes were also incredibly colorful and well-organized. It's surprising, fast-paced, and enjoyable.

//To be honest, I don't see many negative aspects of this film. If you have the opportunity, please go see it; I believe it is still showing in UK theaters. This movie is a masterpiece of cinema, and aside from IGN's, all of the reviews have been positive, and well-earned.

-Mod

[munsonownsmyass]

Michael Kinsella x reader

Authors note: I have been through the emotional ringer lately and after listening to a Hozier song today, I just felt I needed to put this down on paper.

Sometimes life is hard, but it's important not to lose hope.

Thank you to @e-dubbc11 for ensuring me that the first thing I've written in almost two months aren't shit. Love you hun ❤️

Warnings: Angsty, bad self image, a hopeless romantic feeling anything but love, hopeful endings, a smidge of fluff.

Words: 1.1K

I never really thought I was worth anything and so far, life hasn’t really showed me anything to prove me wrong. This is not a sob story where I go into detail about how my parents didn’t have time for me or how I didn’t have any friends growing up. I won’t force you to sit through pages upon pages of me telling you about my countless wrecked relationships, how I’ve been ghosted more than a haunted house or about all the times I’ve thought to myself ‘This is it. I’ve found it.’, just to be proven wrong again. To once again have my heart shattered.

I know deep down that the problem might be me. I mean, all these things do have me in common. Maybe I’m just not worth it? Maybe I should just move to a cabin in the woods, get a bunch of dogs and live happily ever after as an author, alone and content… Given that my books could even sell, that is…

You see, my problem is that I’ve always believed in true love. Happily ever after. That one day I’d look into the eyes of another and find the missing piece of my soul and finally feel like I belong somewhere for the first time in my life. But I’m starting to believe that true love only exists in fairytales and that it’s never going to happen to me. I remain hopeful, but I wouldn’t bet any money on me finding my one true love.

You know that one person you’d want to look at every night before you go to sleep and can’t wait to see again in the morning as the sun shines through the blinds, falling perfectly on their face. Don’t we all want that all-consuming ‘can’t live without each other’ love? I certainly do and I remain hopeful… Or I try to.

Cause what is life without hope? Would it even be worth getting up in the morning? I go to bed some nights not sure if I even want to wake up the next day, but I still wake each morning, lying to myself that it will get better. That today might be the day that everything changes.

Okay, before I start sounding like I’m a depressed little person, I would want to say you’ve caught me at a bad time. Just got ditched again after thinking he was the right guy. I had already started mentally moving into a little cottage where we could grow old together, but alas… I was again proven that some men are just dicks or that I’m the problem… And I really don’t want to think about the last one.

So yes. Right now, I could curse every single man to hell, but who am I kidding? Give me 5 minutes and I will look into the eyes of a new stranger and fall a little again. As Hozier sings ‘I fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new’, cause I’m weird like that. I always see the best in people, and I always imagine how they might be like, what kind of music they might listen and if they are a cat or dog person.

This is my fault, I’m sure. If I really have to think about it. I fall too easily. So I’ll try to stop. This time I’ve promised myself I will not even look at another guy again. I’m better of alone.

---

So… It only lasted two days. I actually did manage to not even respond to that random dude who sled into the dm’s on my social media or the flirty guy at the counter as I hand him his coffee. I remained strong until he came in.

He’d been coming into the coffee shop for two months now, always the same solemn expression on his face. He’s always lost in thought, like there’s a million things going on in his mind. Whenever he comes in, I want to ask him what he’s thinking. What have caused him to have those haunted eyes so full of unspoken emotions. But I never do.

Today his pattern changes. He comes in, gives me that slight smile as he places his order and waits patiently for it go get done, but instead of going, he sits down in the corner. He’s always so quick to leave again, like he doesn’t want anyone to see him, yet today he sits there by the window, looking out.

He looks lost somehow, like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Like life hasn’t exactly treated him kindly either. He looks… almost like me. I know I should leave him alone, but I wonder if a small act of kindness from a stranger could lift that veil of sadness. If maybe I could make him smile. I bet he has a beautiful smile.

Damn. I’m doing it again. I should have learned by now not to fall so easily. Cursing under my breath, I try to work and not look at him, which proves hard. He is just so beautiful. Those expressive hazel eyes, his plump lips encircled by that full beard and the tattoos on his arms. And he probably has a nice body under that shirt, considering how it clings to- No… I got to stop this. This is the kind of thinking that always gets me in trouble.

As he gets up from his seat, I already start looking forward to the next time he comes in. Maybe he’ll stay again the next time? Maybe even stay a little longer, so I could conjure up some courage to talk to him? But to my surprise, he doesn’t walk to the door, but comes back to the counter.

“I-” He starts but stops again. His eyes find mine and I feel my heart skip a beat, like it always does when he looks at me. “I’ve been trying to get the courage to ask you out for over a month now.”

The small smile grows into a nervous one, but all I can think is what this man has to be nervous about. Surely, he must know I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Which was almost exactly what I blurt out. Thankfully it makes him smile wider and I was right. A very beautiful smile indeed. ´

“Fine, then. Tomorrow at 8.” He says with a smile and for the first time, it reaches his eyes. The small wrinkles and the shine in his hazel orbs make it impossible not to smile too.

“Tomorrow.” I confirm with a giggle, barely able to speak without stumbling over my words. On his way out he turns to me, giving me a little wave with the smile still adorning his beautiful face. Once he is out the door, it takes several minutes before my breathing is back to normal and my heart is done making backflips.

I have a date. A date with Michael. And in that moment, I don’t even care if he turns out like the others and leaves me broken. But something tells me he isn’t like the others. That this time it will be different, because… We have to keep hoping, right?

Maybe I could fall again… Just a little bit?

Tagging: @mindidjarin @itwasthereaminuteago @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @mattmurdocksscars @theradioactivespidergwen @chvoswxtch @pedrito-friskito @yarrystyleeza @murdock-and-the-sea @saintmurd0ck @boliv-jenta

[but-what-if-we]

Bliss

Sitting in the breakfast nook near the kitchen, the larger form sips from a steaming cup of coffee gazing out of the window admiring the rays of sunlight breaking through the cloudy morning. The coffee was freshly made along with the almond cherry muffins cooling on the nook's polished wood countertop. The earthy smells that filled the room were among the larger forms favorites, the types of favorites that you could smell everyday without any form of fatigue. Taking a brief moment, the form becomes lost in thought. Thoughts of how happy they are with their life, how they finally feel like they have purpose and how good it feels to be with the smaller form, encouraging them and supporting them throughout this crazy thing called life.

The larger form snaps back into the moment after hearing the sounds of a door opening accompanied by soft footsteps.

Good morning beautiful, I made muffins and if you want I can make you some coffee that won’t at all taste like coffee. 

The larger form motions to the muffins as the messy haired smaller form groggily moves into the kitchen. The smaller form takes a warm muffin from the basket on the countertop joining the larger form in the nook, kissing the larger form’s cheek as they sit.

Good morning, do you remember that “coffee” you made for me last sunday? The one with chocolate and vanilla, that one wasn't too bitter. I’d like to try it again. Did you use regular coffee or espresso last time?

The larger form rises from their place at the nook, planting a kiss on the top of the messy haired smaller form, moving into the kitchen to gather the ingredients to make the smaller form their drink. They add water to the small espresso maker to use the steaming wand built into it, prep the cup with chocolate syrup and a small amount of vanilla syrup before grabbing milk from the fridge and placing it into the milk foamer. 

Last time I did use regular coffee but it was a medium roast. We have a few options for medium roasts and I picked up vanilla and toffee flavored light roasts for you to try. Do you have a preference on which I use?

The larger form holds up several small bags of coffee, doing their best to display all of them at the same time. The smaller form looks for a moment and points to the toffee flavored light roast as they munch on a piece of muffin. 

Let me try the toffee flavored one. Honey this muffin is really good, how early did you wake up to make these? Please tell me you didn't stay awake just to make these muffins.

A slight look of concern passes over the smaller form’s face as they move to stand from their spot in the nook. The smaller form moves into the kitchen as the larger form prepares their coffee, wrapping their arms around the middle of the larger form hugging them from behind.

The larger form, pausing the drink preparation, turns in the embrace so that they are facing the smaller form, meeting their slightly concerned gaze with their own loving one. That the smaller form is vocal about their worries for the larger form's health and wellbeing is a gift the larger form will never take for granted.

I did sleep for a few hours, I just fell asleep in my computer chair and when I woke up to get some water you were already sound asleep so I got another hour on the couch. By the time I woke up that time it was early enough that I thought muffins would be a good idea and these turned out really well.

The larger form leans into the stretching smaller form, lips matching together like puzzle pieces and arms squeezing gently but with the firm message to never let go. The smaller form places their hand on the cheek of the larger form, a loving smirk now adorning their face they turn and return to the nook pulling out their phone beginning to scroll through social media occasionally announcing something interesting they had found. The larger form completes the smaller form’s drink after a few minutes, placing it on the polished counter for the smaller form before returning to the kitchen to make themself another drink. The two forms sit, chatting together in their own quiet little section of life, enjoying each other's company, affection, and presence.

[planckstorytime]

Final Fantasy VII Rebirth: A World Beyond Anger (Part Seven)

VII. This Isn’t About Saving the World – It’s About Me

My thoughts kept returning to the Gi tribe. Why did I find them so evocative?

In their pursuit of nonexistence, they cultivated their anguish, focusing it to corrupt a sacred relic. Their wishes and dreams could empower this materia – maybe they could’ve wished for a better life, a spot in the lifestream to accept them, or the fortitude to endure undying eons. But they didn’t. They did not want hope. They only sought deeper and deeper despair that could finally bring them the peace of oblivion. In the depths of their woe, they forged a power to bestow death to everything:

“Steeped in our one desire… Purest of materia no more… With pain and spite made black.”

Spite is one hell of a motivator. I felt so betrayed by the ending of Remake that I genuinely wanted Rebirth to be abhorrent. I stopped wishing for a game that would make me like the series as I once did, because I knew that hope just heralds disappointment. Caught between contradictory feelings of love and hate, I always felt dishonest to myself no matter what mindset I kept toward project. When I tried to be positive, I felt like I was dismissing my own hurt feelings; when I accentuated the negative, I had to force myself not to like the elements that I otherwise appreciated. I needed this internal argument silenced. Like the Gi, I couldn’t abide in limbo any longer.

A confluence of emotions got tangled up with these silly games. They mutated into a kind of cathectic reservoir, into which all the excess frustrations of my life flowed. Remake released in April of 2020. At that time, I had recently lost one of my best friends to a drug overdose. My beloved dog, whom I’d had since childhood, was dying. I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship. The United States political situation deteriorated further and further. And of course, a little thing called the COVID-19 pandemic struck. At the time, the world seemed cruel, and I resented my lot in life. I thought that the release of a piece of media that I’d anticipated for so long would help me feel better, but that escapism just resulted in more pain. With the literal years of isolation that followed (plus a nearly fatal snow storm), trapped at home and unable to see the people that I loved more than anything in the world, I just kept revisiting that disappointment, again and again. When every day is effectively the same, you endlessly repeat the same motions, the same feelings. In that manic state, FF7R became a sort of emblem for me, reminding me that I can’t have nice things and should not expect better from my life in any regard.

Life got better, though. Sort of. Daily life remains as challenging as ever, and new trials never stop emerging. At least I’m not locked up and scared anymore, though. Yet that game, and its impending follow-up, stayed stuck in my craw throughout the intervening years. I wish that I knew a less severe word for “trauma”, as I do not wish to trivialize the experiences of people who’ve suffered actual hardship – but this particular bugbear of mine acted as a conduit that would involuntarily drag me back to one of the worst periods of my life. Reliving that pain over and over, even as I turned these games into veritable lightning rods for my redirected negative energy, took its toll on me. The solution, to me, was to convince myself that I hated everything about them – that the hurt they gave me was all they ever were and all they ever would be. At least then they would be so unappealing that I’d never risk getting hurt again.

The results speak for themselves. I tried out Rebirth anyway, and it left me as conflicted as ever. This time, though, I feel like I’ve found meaning in that imbalance. I saw my petty struggle mirrored on the stage of a digital melodrama, and I gained a new perspective. The narrative focuses heavily on people and groups grappling with grief and spite, and the consequences of letting those demons consume you. Dyne’s rabid fury steers him to his end, denying him the chance of ever holding his daughter with an unsullied hand. Red XIII and Aerith both temper their impulses to maim Hojo after all the misery he’s inflicted upon them. Tifa divulges her previous desire for vengeance against Shinra, but how that hatred wasn’t sustainable. Cloud increasingly loses himself to murderous urges. Sephiroth’s new plan apparently hinges on a harvest of spite and sorrow from sufferers cursing their fates. Through these cases, Rebirth admonishes against obsessive anger, no matter how justified, because the true victim will always be the one reenacting their prior trauma. To draw from Aerith once more:

“It’s true that the pain and the anger we carry can make us stronger. But at what cost? What toll does it take? I believe true strength doesn’t come from any of that. True strength comes from our ability to forgive – to forge ahead in the hope of making things right. It comes from ourselves.”

It would be nice to have our problems solved for us – so that we had no reason to be angry to begin with. For me, that would’ve come in the form of a perfect adaptation: one with all of the charms that I love and none of the aspects that I hate. Y’know, just something made specifically for me, with no one else considered. Nobody’s that lucky, though. Not me, and certainly not the Gi:

“The Gi cannot rest until our sacred treasure has been restored to us. Moreover, in redressing the crimes of her ancestors, the Cetra may help us let go our ancient grudge.”

The only one who can let go of a grudge is the one who holds it. If the Gi got their Black Materia back, all it would accomplish is an extinction event. There’s no forgiveness there. The Gi must attain their peace through different means. Anger and depression must give way to acceptance – acceptance of others’ faults, acceptance of the reality of your situation, and acceptance of all the seemingly contradictory feelings swirling about that are, nonetheless, still yours.

I keep imagining alternate worlds. What if Square Enix had done this or that differently, and given us a better story? I can picture a game that would be easier for me to love. I see the contrast between what could have been with the real product, and it seeds dismay. Do these dreams help after a certain point? I realize that I cannot hide from my reality like Cloud does in the closing minutes of Rebirth. Contentment will never reach you when you’re holding out for something that will never happen. Hoping for a different fate gets you nowhere; despising your current one sends you backwards. When we linger on what we wish to be different, those unfulfilled desires, the futile hopes to rectify the past, invariably trap us in a state of permanent agitation. Only through embracing what we’ve experienced, the good and the bad, can we truly move beyond it.

As outlined earlier, I believe the third entry will likely flow with this theme, resolving on the cast achieving peace with themselves and their past woes. If it does not, so be it. I intend to internalize this lesson, even if Square does not. In the most unorthodox way, Rebirth spoke to me, and I will both acknowledge its flaws and consider its wisdom. I don’t think I’ll ever fully support the direction they took with this series. Maybe someday there will be a mod that serves as a “fan edit” to remove the distasteful elements. It’s halfway there, considering that most important scenes are intact, and the fact that you can skip Zack’s interludes on subsequent playthroughs. Until then, I have to accept a simple truth: I had fun, despite everything that bothered me.

At times, I frightened myself with how much I enjoyed the game. Knowing ahead of time that the ending would bite me in the ass, I even considered quitting to avoid that bitter sting. I thought, “What’s the point in pressing on if it all ends in disappointment?” Well, what’s the point in living, then? Sometimes we’re so afraid of pain that we would deny any chance of joy along with it. You could guess that such impulses might arise from our death drives, a primal push towards stasis.

No, I choose pleasure in the end. I choose life. Even if you know it will eventually end, I think there’s value in the transient moments of bliss. Just as it’s worth it to bond with a fictional flower girl, even knowing her tragic fate, because that story is worth experiencing regardless.

Believe me, the last thing I expected to get out of Final Fantasy VII Rebirth, given my history,was a message about how life is worth living. You can’t wallow in impossible dreams, you can’t stew in impotent rage, and you can’t give in to a wish for nothingness. You must cherish what you love and accept that one day, it will fade. Nevertheless, it was real.

I won’t let my agreement or disagreement with Square’s story decisions dictate my enjoyment on principle anymore. Maybe the next game will stick the landing. Maybe not. Going by past performance, it’s likely to get 90% of the way there and then trip at the finish line. My cautiously optimistic outlook from my previous essay did not stick with me, so I cannot say that my uncharacteristically harmonious relationship with Rebirth will persevere either. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this ordeal, it’s that unexpected outcomes occur precisely because you don’t know everything. Either way, I’ll be back here in three or four years. Until then, I’ll do my best to live in the moment and be true to my feelings as they are now.

– Hunter Galbraith

Interview translations credit to @aitaikimochi and @ShinraArch.

Further Reading

Freud, Sigmund, et al. Beyond the Pleasure Principle. Norton, 1989.

FULL ESSAY: https://planckstorytime.wordpress.com/2024/05/11/final-fantasy-vii-rebirth-a-world-beyond-anger/

[htcsense5]

Counter-Exposing Banjo/Tiredite/Lunar Moonyu/Lunar Cheese

Hello everyone.

It’s me, arsikphonegreat.

As some of you might know, I have been “exposed” for sexting allegations. While the screenshots were real, there was a LOT of stuff that went unmentioned on purpose.

Before we start, I’d like to mention that i am NOT trying to justify any of the stuff that i did in early 2021. I understand that it was horrible, but I was MUCH, MUCH younger than banjo (i will refer to her with that in this whole exposé). That exposé that was made on me was an absolutely pathetic one at that, and I’m going to break it down into pieces.

First of all, the 2020 thing. The exposing page mentioned how I started “sexting” her during a drama that was happening. Yes, that is kinda bad, though banjo did a big part in it, with even creating an OC called “Dirty Minded Banjo” and later making her first NSFW art, which i unfortunately cannot access because I can’t log in to that account where I impersonated a drama maker due to being locked out of my mail, so if you don’t believe me then it’s fine. If we ever find it, i will make sure to add it here. Everyone knew about this “sexting” bs, including my friends. It really was a joke, that was meant to make fun of a phone collector named Alonso, who was OBSESSED with horny bs. Banjo was perfectly comfortable doing this, so I don’t see why she’s acting like it traumatised her forever.

Unfortunately this is the only screenshot I could find mentioning this 2020 thing, so take that however you will. Sorry for not being able to find much proof on that.

(UPDATE: We found it. We found her first ever cursed art. Here it is. https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/714901509967446016/1167211125667008593/SPOILER_WHAT_THE_FUCK_IS_THAT.gif?ex=654d4d12&is=653ad812&hm=b1346e2bbda29ccaecedc13d9feb16c329986d2447ab32ee3206ca280e252c2c&)

But here’s where we move to one of the biggest parts of this whole ordeal.

Banjo started making more NSFW arts with my friends and sexualising in every way she could, here’s proof:

As you can see, she had a big “history” of making these arts before the banjo x arsik garbage even started.

Now, let’s move to the reason why I was exposed. I was actually 11 back then, but banjo still knowingly did the thing with me thinking i was 10. I regret not resisting, and I am sorry for that. Banjo was 13, by the way.

She never mentioned those arts, so here I am. She thought i was 10 and knowingly sent those “arts” to a ten year old.

And here’s her asking a person who she thought was 10 this type of question. Literally gross shit.

In March 2021, after me finally coming to my senses, she made ANOTHER NSFW art with my friends, and at this point i’ve had enough.

Finally, we cancelled this girl, and in June 2021 we have eventually forgiven her. It was a big war, and it’s also the one she keeps mentioning in her social media as the “Banjo hate war” and always says it started on march 8th which proves my point. During the war, SHE MADE ANOTHER CURSED ART DESPITE BEING CANCELLED FOR CURSED ARTS. Here is proof. It happened on the 16th of May, 2021, if you’re curious.

After the war ended, banjo went back to her old ways, sending creepy messages to my friend, NKYT.

As you can see, it happened after June 2021, which means she hasn’t learned anything at all.

Fast forward to late 2022, before NKYT came back from his break, banjo obviously didn’t change and posted these abominations:

She even went as far as to POST A VIDEO WHERE SHE PLAYED A VOICE RECORDING OF HERSELF MOANING https://youtu.be/WW5G_TbBgsc?si=Y7etG2AiEmVmx34W

And now, let’s talk about the raiding thing. Yes, it was bad to some degree, however in my opinion, it was completely deserved after all the lies and her posts on twitter which i have just mentioned.

Finally, this is the end of this counter-exposé. It was certainly a long read, but I hope that now you know the truth about Lunar Cheese. I don’t condone what I did back then, but banjo knew she was doing this with who she thought was a 10 year old, and was perfectly fine sending those arts to me. Absolutely disgusting and shameless.

WE GOT AN UPDATE!!!!

Looks like that bastard saw this exposé and made this abomination where she played THE ENTIRE VOICE RECORDING OF HER MOANING

Listen at your own risk, you don’t want to be traumatised.

“i had enough” my ass

another update: the vid got deleted for violating the terms of service LMFAO (looks like either some nice person who saw this post reported the video or the youtube team deleted the vid by themselves)

thankfully, we archived it:

oh, and, here are her discord IDs so feel free to ban that liar from your servers:

823539067513470976 767779242787340288 782310424129437746