#never encountered this many bugs in one place before but fuck if it doesn't make it more delightful at times

[loumauve]

Sable pic spam bc I'm ridiculously attached to this buggy game

[alice-blogs-things]

The Haunting of Hill House (Show) vs The Magnus Archives

Finally started listening to the Magnus Archives this summer, so of course I wanted to see if I could combine its lore with my other favourite horror production of recent times.

The Crain Sibs as Avatars

Steven Crain- the Eye

Places a lot of emphasis on visual evidence when conducting his paranormal investigations

"I've never seen a ghost" Has actually seen several, along with many other fucked up things his siblings did not, such as the warning signs of Olivia spiralling.

Placed in the role of protector of the younger four from childhood, expected to watch over them and keep an eye on them, a duty that never goes away

Come on, you can't tell me that if this guy met Jonathan, especially in the first season, they wouldn't get along.

Shirley Crain-Harris- the Corruption

Bugs feature most prominently in her episode, which features an actual wasp nest

Her kittens all end up being diseased, in effect corrupted before they have a chance

Her literal job is to paint over dead bodies so they're more palatable to look at, while fully knowing the rot beneath, which she is paid to conceal, but can't escape from herself

Theodora Crain- the Eye

Technically has touch-based powers, not sight-based, but her powers come with an immense burden of secret knowledge, Knowing things she shouldn't know

Can't shake hands with someone without getting a front row seat to the worst things they've ever done

Literally Saw her mother as a dead body long before it actually happened, and was terrified by it

Luke Crain- the Lonely

Everyone, the viewer included, thinks his childhood best friend is imaginary.

He's often seen playing alone in the flashbacks, and faces his encounter with William Hill's ghost entirely alone as well

His one friend as an adult ends up betraying him and leaving him alone- making genuine, non-familial connections seems to be an ongoing struggle.

Nell Crain-Vance- the End

Was literally haunted by her own death for twenty-six years and didn't know until it was too late

Her adult self doesn't appear in the second half of the show, except as a ghost

Is tricked into walking- or falling- into her own death by the promise of reuniting with those she's already lost- death is a constant presence for her.

Bonus: Olivia Crain- the Spiral

The more time she spends in Hill House, the more she loses her grip on reality

She's effectively lured into this by Poppy, similar to how Michael and Helen were

Ends up bound to the house, a twisted corruption of her best qualities, no longer able to really know what's best for her family

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I'm the only person in the Florida Keys who still wears a mask whenever I go inside a public place, I get a lot of stares, a lot of glares (which are distinct from stares, more antagonistic), and a lot of chuckles, but I can ignore all that. What I couldn't ignore was when this older white lady lifted her leg like a fucking animal and farted on me. That was the single worst thing another human being has done to me in 25 years on this earth, and it is by the grace of God that I did not go to jail for physically assaulting that woman. I did call her a disgusting bitch out loud so everyone in the Publix parking lot could hear, and then I stormed off before she could respond.

This is the savagery I deal with. These people are absolutely beyond parody. Farting on people, spitting on people (no one has ever spat on me, but one guy in a truck spat at me, spat in my direction, but he was too far away for it to hit me), I wouldn't put it past them to dig their fingers up their ass and smear shit on people like fucking apes! How fucking bestial are these people? What point are they trying to prove? "Covid is a hoax, so I'm gonna shit myself in public to show how unafraid of germs I am!" She LIFTED HER LEG LIKE A DOG! Somebody's grandmother. If my gramma did this to someone, I wouldn't think it was funny, and I certainly wouldn't be PROUD of her or cheer her on. This is despicable behavior, but from her perspective she won this interaction because she got a rise out of me. That's what this is all about, just getting reactions. Doesn't matter if they embarrass themselves in the process, because they don't feel shame! It's not embarrassing to these people. They will never look back on this moment with anything but a feeling of smug superiority, if they think about it at all. Chances are this lady will forget it even happened in a week, it's so mundane to her. I doubt she goes around farting on a ton of people, I'm probably the only masked person she's encountered in months, but in her mind I'm no insignificant, so beneath her, that she can't even be bothered to commit this to p9ng term memory. It's like stepping on a bug. Even if she felt bad about it, which she doesn't, it's just a bug, one of many, a forgettable experience. The fact that I'm still mad about it would make her so fucking satisfied, it hurts. "I really owned that lib! I triggered him hard!"

I can't imagine going about my life like that. What kind of life must you live where you feel comfortable farting on strangers in public because you think its funny? This is elementary school bully behavior! Underdeveloped empathy! No sense of right or wrong! And we're really living in two separate planes of reality because there's no convincing them that their behavior is abnormal or inappropriate. In their world, they're completely justified and will never see it any other way. They feel no regret, no remorse, no self doubt, no guilt, nothing. They live truly blissful lives where they can molest anyone and never be molested. I still follow societal norms, I refuse to stoop to their level, so I lose. I am going about every interaction with one hand tied behind my back, unwilling to commit the same disgusting acts of indecency and disrespect, and that makes me weak. In a world of assholes, you can't get by being nice. They don't feel bad about being assholes because they WANT to be assholes! They don't WANT to be nice, they WANT to hurt people, and rarely ever get their comeuppance because the universe is uncaring and unfeeling. The United States of America is proof positive that karma does not exist, because otherwise our entire continent would have sunk into the sea by now.

[tyrantisterror]

I forget if you've been asked this question before, but a friend of mine is trying to write a kaiju story for kaijune, but she doesn't have much experience writing kaiju or with kaiju media, and she asked me a question I figured you'd be better at answering: What is it that makes a kaiju story truly feel like a kaiju story other than the focus on a giant monster?

That's a very difficult question to answer, so I can see why she's having problems with it. It all depends on how you define the kaiju genre, and that's a highly contentious subject. I mean, defining things always is - every definition will have people who say it's too loose for including x and other people saying it's too narrow for excluding y, and definitions of the "kaiju genre" are no exception.

I guess let's start by setting up the to extreme ends of this definition.

The most liberal definition: A Kaiju Story is any story where a giant monster/kaiju rampaging around is the central conflict of the story.

The most(?) conservative definition: A Kaiju Story is any Japanese story where a kaiju rampaging is the central conflict of the story.

Our first big takeaway here, and the thing all kaiju genre fans can agree on, is that a kaiju needs to be integral to the plot of your kaiju story. Lord of the Rings isn't a kaiju story, because while it has a big monster in it, that big monster is an incidental encounter rather than the core focus of the conflict. That's our minimum requirement for a kaiju story.

Now, I lean towards the liberal side of this issue (which is unusual for me when it comes to defining literary shit), but I'm gonna explore on the conservative side here first, because I think there's some important points to consider there. The term "kaiju" doesn't just conjure up images of any giant monster when you hear it - it brings to mind Godzilla, Power Rangers, Gamera, Ultraman, men in rubber suits, bad dubbing, etc. And what those franchises have in common that other giant monster media doesn't is a shared background in Japanese culture and history.

When I think about why I love kaiju stories even more than most other monster-focused fiction, a lot of the things that come to mind have their roots in Japanese culture. The complex characterization of the monsters has its roots in Shintoism and various folk religious that treat all things, be they human, animal, plant, or even inanimate objects, as having souls. The emphasis on living in harmony with nature comes from those same beliefs, from Buddhism, and from the mercurial nature of Japan's environment and weather. The firm themes of opposing warfare and breaking cycles of violence are born from the pioneers of the genre despising the horrors they witnessed in World War II and wanting future generations to never repeat that great mistake. Et cetera et cetera.

I think it would be mostly accurate to say there are a great many details that make Japanese giant monster stories feel more alike to each other than to non-Japanese giant monster movies. ...mostly.

But not entirely.

Because defining "the kaiju genre" as solely being a product of Japanese culture ignores the unignorable fact that Japanese kaiju movies, from the very beginning, took some inspiration from American giant monster films. There are elements of King Kong (1933) in Godzilla (1954), and the film-makers have acknowledged that much. Rodan has this great twist at the end of the first act that depends on the audience expecting it to work like an American giant bug movie, which most of the first act functions almost identical to. The movie that cemented the "Monster vs. Monster" formula at Toho was King Kong vs. Godzilla. It goes on!

And it also goes both ways - Gorgo, a film made by the creators of The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms and The Giant Behemoth, has more in common with the Godzilla franchise in tone, themes, and its approach to its monstrous stars than it does to its Western predecessors, and the creators were open about it. Hell, they even work in explicit nods to it in the film - the island Gorgo is discovered on is called Nara Island, a Japanese name despite the island itself being off the coast of Ireland. Pacific Rim, Colossal, and Cloverfield, some of the most prominent modern American giant monster movies, were likewise explicitly inspired by Japanese giant monster films. Video games like Rampage and War of the Monsters draw influence from and make homages to monster films of both the East and West.

There's also a sort of inherent fallacy to assume all kaiju stories from Japan end up having the same themes and motifs. I don't think the Showa Godzilla films would agree with how, say, Attack on Titan portrays war. Japanese giant monster stories aren't a monolith.

If a Japanese giant monster story has content that unilaterally contradicts the content of a classic kaiju work like Godzilla, but an American giant monster movie hews to that content very closely, which is the true kaiju story? Is being made by Japanese people all that matters? Or is it the content - the themes, the tone, the approach to the monster, etc.? Where do we draw the line?

...I don't know, dude, and I don't think it's my place to be the arbiter of that.

But, in an attempt to give you something that could be vaguely helpful, here is my short list of criteria for a kaiju story that I personally would like, which isn't quite the same thing as "what makes a kaiju story a kaiju story," but is as close as you're gonna get to that when asking me:

1. The monster(s) is a character and has at least one moment of sympathy in the narrative.

2. The dichotomy of nature and civilization is at the crux of the narrative. Neither is presented as uniformly good or evil - civilization has started the conflict by causing wanton and unnecessary destruction, and nature strikes back at civilization unilaterally without distinguishing the guilty from the innocent.

3. The rampaging monster(s) is a direct consequence of civilization fucking things up - bombs waking up prehistoric monsters, greedy CEOs steal a monster's egg to make a profit without a care for what the parent may do to get it back, genetic engineering creating deadly mutants, aliens who represent the dark potential future of humanity if we keep going down a selfish, warlike path set loose monsters as their personal soldiers, etc.

4. The story is explicitly anti-war, anti-capitalist, and pro-environmentalism.

5. Conventional weaponry is incapable of defeating the monsters.

6. No matter how things shake out, humanity is humbled by their encounter with the monsters, and either learns to do better or suffers for their hubris and arrogant desire to dominate the world.

[monokyokyo]

Flower Boy

An old one but I'm working on a part 2 so I figured I'd share it anyway!

Jongsang (although it's not really focused on), pretty fluffy, Jongho is a florist

Flowers had a range of emotions. From the fiery passion of roses to the sombre colour of forget me nots'. Jongho found comfort in the likes of these pristine plants. After all, he had an entire shop dedicated to nearly every flower the region had to offer. It was such a simple job yet there was nothing he would rather do.

Every day, someone new entered his shop in search of a flower to suit their tastes or situation, and it was Jongho's job to assist them.

The day started out normal. Jongho was rearranging the objects on the front counter when a familiar face strutted in. "Hello Mr Park," He greeted the tall man cheerfully.

"How many times must I tell you? Just Seonghwa is fine." Chuckled the customer as he removed his sparkling sunglasses.

"I'm sorry. What can I do for you today, Mr Park?" Seonghwa shook his head, deciding to just leave it be. His eyes travelled around the small shop, a light hum coming from his lips.

"I'm looking for something that really pops! You know? This couple is really into gemstones, so they're having a crystal wedding." Seonghwa was a wedding planner. Every now and again, usually once or twice a week, he would come to Jongho's store in search of the perfect flowers to impress his clients. He was a rather picky individual and Jongho learned during their very first encounter that he wasn't someone whose time should be wasted.

As such, Jongho got right to looking for the perfect bunch of flowers for the occasion. He glanced around before finally landing on what he hoped was the right bouquet. "Why not freesia?" He suggested. "The red ones represent passion, something these two must have a lot of if they're theming their wedding around their love of crystals. Wouldn't you say?"

Seonghwa nodded at him, a slight grin forming on his face at the bright smile on the younger man's face. "I would say indeed. Alright, I'll need two dozen bouquets. I'll send you the details on the wrapping later." He put his sunglasses on and turned to the door. "Give me a call when you're ready to plan your wedding, hey Jongho? I promise I'll give you the best of the best."

"I'm only twenty," He giggled. "I've still got some time, Mr Park."

Seonghwa chuckled. "Indeed you do." He left, leaving Jongho with a smile on his face.

About an hour or so later, the bell above the store entrance dinged. Jongho looked up from his order and saw a man scanning, somewhat frantically, through several displays of flowers. "How many I help you today?" Jongho asked the customer cheerfully.

The man sighed and sluggishly walked over to the counter. "I need the perfect flower for my boyfriend. He's been going through a lot recently and I need something to show him that I'm here for him..." Jongho tilted his head at this and hummed. He told the man to wait a moment then hopped over to one of the shelves.

"Here," He said. The man looked down curiously at the pink hydrangea in Jongho's hand. "Pink hydrangea for a passionate and emotional romance. You clearly care about him a lot. I'm sure these flowers will show him that." Jongho tilted his head at the light hum of consideration he received, hoping he would take up his suggestion. "I could label the bouquet if you'd like? What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Wooyoung," Jongho didn't fail to notice the way the man smiled at the mere mention of his boyfriend's name. He found it sweet how love two people could share with one another. Words are hard to express, but one could show them through something as simple as a flower. So Jongho made sure to put on the nicest tag he had, and encased the hydrangea a shiny, clear plastic to keep them safe.

"I hope things go well for you two," Said Jongho just as they finished their transaction. He handed the man the bouquet, sending him a grin with it. "Have a good day Mr..."

"San. Choi San," Then they parted ways. It made Jongho feel a certain pride inside, knowing he had the potential to help someone with his flowers. Regardless of if he knew the turnout, at least he was able to provide some assistance to those who would appreciate it. Well, it wasn't always appreciated.

About thirty or so minutes later, another familiar face stormed into the flower shop. The front door slammed open, disturbing the usual calm atmosphere of the store when he stomped in. An empty vase on the counter, nearly cracking it and causing Jongho to flinch from his seat. He let out a yelp in surprise, a small squeak that only made the man in front of him scoff.

"M-Mr Jeong? I'm sorry I-"

"You should be," Growled the older man. He pushed back his blonde hair with an aggressive sigh while Jongho slowly pulled back the clay pot. His brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what could've gone so wrong that he would come back so vexed, especially after their calm encounter last week. Mr Jeong or, Yunho, had ordered a pot of roses for his girlfriend. Could she have hated them that much?

"I-If you don't mind me asking...What happened last week?"

The blonde huffed, though it sounded more like a growl to Jongho's sensitive ears. "She's allergic," The younger male squinted, carefully asking him to repeat himself. "Are you deaf? I said she's fucking allergic!" Jongho flinched back at his harsh and loud tone yet Yunho hardly made the effort to reel himself back in.

"You sold me these damn flowers, giving me this grand speech about how special they'll make her feel and how she'll love them and you know what happens? She ends sneezing through our entire date! Why the hell would you give those to me?!"

"W-Well how was I s-supposed to know? Y-You came in asking for flowers!" The look Yunho gave him had to be the scariest thing Jongho had ever seen...in his shop. He was tall, about six foot, and easily towered over the cowering boy.

"Are you saying this is my fault?" He seethed through his gritted teeth. Jongho gulped, unsure of what to do in this sort of situation. He had never had anyone this angry over roses of all things.

"W-Well, no...I'm not blaming you but...shouldn't you have known?" He flinched yet again when Yunho leered closer, his hands thrown up in what would likely be, useless defence.

"Those roses had to be bugged, sprayed with something, I don't know! You had to have done something to them! We have roses at home for crying out loud!"

"And do you water them?" When Jongho's only response was silence, he lowered his arms, creasing his brow.

"Well...I've never seen anyone water them...but..."

"So...You ordered real roses thinking that your girlfriend wouldn't be allergic...because she doesn't react to the fake roses in your home?" Yunho could only sputter out a string of incoherent words that basically proved Jongho's suspicions to be correct. In response, he sighed then wordlessly pulled out his logbook.

Yunho watched curiously as he flipped through before he landed on last week. Jongho then grabbed a piece of paper and asked for the man's card, which he reluctantly agreed to. When it was handed back to him, Jongho hit him with a frow. "Here is your receipt sir. I've refunded your flowers..." The face alone was enough to make anyone feel lousy but the way his words trailed off just added extra salt to the wound.

So just before he took his receipt and left, Yunho mumbled something under his breath to the boy. "Thank you...for what it's worth...she loved the flowers before she started sneezing..." A tiny grin formed on Jongho's face and it made Yunho sigh, successfully feeling like less of an ass.

Jongho never had aggressive customers. Irritated, sure, but no one had ever gotten that upset with him. It was a flower shop after all. All of that before twelve as well...

The brunette let out a sigh of relief when his phone went off at twelve-thirty, signalling that it was finally his lunch break. Though the day was mostly quiet, he hadn't eaten since that morning and was eager to fill his stomach with some sort of nutrients. However, just before you could put up his 'Back in 20 minutes sign', the sound of the doorbell caught his attention. In shuffled a man with jet black hair, featuring various strands of gold.

His eyes were light red and his face was a little puffy as well. Jongho didn't give himself a moment to mourn his lost lunch break and hastily rushed over to greet the once crying figure. "I'm sorry...Am I bothering you?" He sniffled, wiping whatever remaining tears he had.

"No, not at all! What can I help you with?"

The man fidgeted slightly, eyes wandering around the shop and towards the floor. Clearly, he was trying to look anywhere but at Jongho, something the younger wasn't at all bothered by. "I'm looking for a flower..." He shook his head, muttering how that was obvious. "A gift I mean. I-It's for..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..." Shaking his head once, the customer told him that it was alright, followed by mumbling a few things that Jongho didn't quite get. "Pardon?"

"S-Sorry I um...I just got back from the hospital..." Judging by his mannerisms, Jongho couldn't quite tell if he was a patient or if he was merely visiting someone. "My father he um...isn't doing too well," Well now he felt awful for assuming his condition. "I just wanted to get him some flowers and my boyfriend recommended this place..."

The snap from Jongho's fingers made the older male flinch, put off by the rather bright grin on his face. "You must be Wooyoung! San's boyfriend, right?"

"Y-Yes...That's me..." Jongho had realised his awfully chipper tone wasn't very appropriate and did Wooyoung a favour by calming himself down.

"Sorry...Why don't you browse around and tell me what catches your eye." A slight nod was all Jongho got before Wooyoung began to walk around the store. He tried his best not to follow the young man whilst he strolled about but it was difficult not to be curious. The way he moved was so tired, sluggish even and Jongho knew he wouldn't find anything he would like in a reasonable amount of time.

So, with that, Jongho stood to his feet and made his way over to the mixed-haired male, following his gaze across the shelves. "Anything that's caught your interest?" His sudden question made Wooyoung jump. Jongho apologised as soon as he startled him yet the older only turned away.

"I'm sorry...I don't really know what I'm doing here," Jongho heard his airy chuckle but it definitely wasn't humorous. "I don't know the first thing about flowers or what he would like...I think I'll just go."

Jongho grabbed his arm before he could turn away, earning him a questionable look from Wooyoung. His arm was yanked back and Jongho replied with a nervous laugh. "Sorry. Um, stay right here?" With the soft tone of his voice, Wooyoung couldn't possibly leave yet. So he sighed to himself while watching the young florist run off to the corner of the room, where an array of purple flowers caught his eye.

He came back not too long later with a bouquet in his hands. "Iris'," Said Jongho just as he handed them off. "They represent hope. I hope you and your family have enough, but a little more won't hurt. Stay strong." Wooyoung looked down at the flowers in his hand. Incoming tears were the only thing he saw as they began to fill his vision, eventually clouding it entirely until he felt the water roll down his pale cheeks.

Whatever words he mumbled to Jongho were interrupted by his unstable breaths and cries but it hadn't deterred him in the slightest. Instead of charging him the moment Wooyoung was handed the flowers, Jongho asked him if he would like a cup of hot chocolate. The older male wiped his tears, offering him a slight grin and saying: "T-That would be wonderful..."

Jongho even gave him extra marshmallows to make him feel better.

It was rather late when Wooyoung left. Well, if you count quarter past three to be late - which Jongho did. Although, he didn't mind much. Wooyoung left his store with a smile, flowers and a cheeky bit of foam around his lips. It was good enough for him.

Thankfully, Jongho had gotten to eat a cookie or two while speaking with the mixed-haired male. It was just enough to distract his growling stomach while he helped his few customers. One of which was certainly one of the most intimidating Jongho had seen yet.

A tall stature, black leather jacket, red hair and a dark stare - Jongho had no clue what he was doing in a flower shop of all places. However, he had learned to never judge a book by its cover and greeted the man with a bright beam, just as he did with all his other customers. "Hello..." His voice certainly fit his appearance. It was deep, like it could reach the depths of the ocean if he wanted it to.

"How can I help you today?" Said Jongho, as he waved to the old lady who had just bought a pot of daisies right before the redhead entered.

"I'm looking for some flowers..." As obvious as that may have sounded, Jongho didn't hold it against him though. It was clear that he had never been in a store like this. The poor man looked too scared to touch anything as if he were afraid it was going to burst into flames if he so much as lifted a finger. Honestly, Jongho found it rather cute.

"Of course! What kind?" That didn't seem to be the right question to ask. As all the man did was rock back and forth on his heels, the gears turning in his head as attempted to come up with a suitable answer.

"Um...Pretty ones?" Jongho nearly giggled at how adorable his answer was. He was clueless about flowers and the young florist was ready to help him find the perfect one for his occasion. Walking from behind the counter, Jongho made his way to his titan of a customer and looked up at him. He was quite small in comparison but he didn't mind.

"I'll help you find the prettiest ones around! Who are they for?" Big men like him didn't usually visit Jongho's shop, so it was no surprise when a light blush crept across the customer's cheek and he began to avert eye contact in embarrassment.

"They're um...f-for my mother..." This time, Jongho didn't hesitate to giggle, eliciting a deeper blush from the taller male. "D-Don't laugh! What? Got a problem with me getting a gift from my mother?" The man's tone dropped to a frightfully low level, ending Jongho's laughter within seconds.

"I didn't mean it like that...It's just, I'm surprised. That's all. Not many tough looking guys like you come in here." This time, it was the other male's turn to laugh. A 180 that was nothing but appreciated by Jongho.

"Never judge a book by its cover, I suppose," He sent Jongho a grin and the younger smiled right back. "My mother's been telling me all about this shop, she comes here every Tuesday to look at the flowers and pick up supplies for her garden. She was busy today, so she asked me to pick a few things for her house."

"Oh! You must be Mrs Song's son? Mingi, was it?" The redhead nodded at him, continuing to grin even as he chuckled somewhat awkwardly. "She talks about you quite a bit. The one that sleeps with plushies, right?"

"Yep, that's me. I'll be honest, I'm not much of a flower guy but my mother adores them. Mind helping me pick out something she would like?" Jongho nodded at him, eagerly bouncing up and down in a way that made Mingi giggle.

Despite his rough exterior, Mingi was a rather sweet person. Listening attentively and nodding along as Jongho told him about his various selection of flowers and even giving his own input, saying what and what not his mother would like. Eventually, the two settled on yellow daffodils, quite a few dahlias and a tiny pot of lavender. Once Mingi was completely sure this was perfect, he bid Jongho farewell, promising to come visit again with his mother at some point. The prospect of seeing him again made Jongho grin. Another satisfied customer.

The day was officially coming to a close. Jongho sighed the moment the final customer went on their way. It was a rather old lady and he had just spent the last fifteen minutes explaining that the stamen and anther of her plants weren't insects. A rather draining conversation, as you can imagine. After that, the young man was just about ready to close his shop and head home.

He glanced at the clock, smiling at it finally struck six. Closing time. He trotted over to the front door and got ready to flip to the open sign to close. Yet just before he could do so, the door suddenly swung open and Jongho flinched back in surprise. A hand grabbed his waist just before he could fall backwards, lifting his body to meet another.

Light, sparkling brown eyes met with Jongho's dark ones. His hazel hair managed to look unkempt yet too perfect to fix and his expression was soft but his features were sharp, almost prince-like. He was the epitome of beauty. "Are you still open?" Were the first words to leave his soft lips.

Jongho couldn't find the words or the will to say no or so much as shake his head. All he did was slowly escape his grip, carefully gesturing him into the store. The stranger smiled at him then made his way in. Jongho gulped, watching his every movement. He had seen him before. A delivery boy from the restaurant down the road. The two had never spoken but Jongho knew he existed. Yet he yearned for more.

"Do you know what you're looking for?" He inquired in a voice more akin to a whisper rather than his usual upbeat speaking voice. The older brunette turned back to him. Jongho thought he had done something wrong judging by his stare yet the smile returned to his face.

Slowly, he made his way towards the florist, prompting Jongho to step back until he was pressed against one of the displays. "You," He stated simply.

Blush erupted onto Jongho's cheeks, sending him into an internal frenzy of panic. "M-Me? What do you..." He trailed off when the other male picked a lone rose from the table. Oh...he meant the rose. He told Jongho that he would take it and go, filling him with a heavy heart.

With that, Jongho filled out their transaction, trying his best not to let his gaze travel to the lean figure in front of him. How could he be so intimidating while doing practically nothing?

The man had sweater paws for crying out loud.

Jongho then handed him the rose and a receipt. "Have a good evening, sir..." Yet he hadn't left yet. He glanced up to see the man wrapping a tag around the flower, before he placed it back on the counter. Just before Jongho could question what he was doing, he was hit with another smile.

"Good night, flower boy." Was all he said before he leaned in and placed a kiss on the younger's forehead. Just like, he disappeared into the night. Like a strange yet delightful dream Jongho had experienced in the wake of dawn.

Cautiously, he glanced at the rose that was left on the counter.

Call me XXX-XXX-XXXXX Kang Yeosang I would love to get to know you, Flower Boy

[shadowdianne]

glad I asked prompt was: set in season 1, Emma sees Mayor Mills sneaking off somewhere, and she follows a little later. Emma is suspicious of what she's up to, and arrives at the stables. She comes in to see Mayor Mills galloping around on a horse, looking all young and free. She watches, and thinks a lot. Mayor Mills doesn't see her and gets down and cares for her horse. Maybe she could see Emma and she could tell a non magic version of Daniel, and Cora's parenting. I'm writing my own version.

There you have! Thank you for the prompt ;) I’ll be keenly watching in order to not miss your story then! I hope you like my tiny version of it. 

Emma drummed her fingers against the steeringwheel, narrowing her eyes as she stared at Storybrooke’s stables standing aheadof the road. The grey-hued sky silhouetted its form and as she hummed toherself she could feel the first of many minuscule droplets of water hittingthe windscreen and reflecting the timid sunrays that did reached both her bugand Regina’s car.

Car she had been staring at for almost half anhour now after she had decided to follow the brunette back when she had seenher exiting her office with clouded eyes and pursed lips.

A part of Emma had doubted the second she hadfollowed the brunette with her eyes, seeing the woman entering into her car anddriving away with barely a glance at her back. Another part, the one who hadgrabbed her key cars and jumped into her own bug all but forgetting she hadgone all the way down to the town hall to actually ask for a date with the woman,hadn’t really minded when she followed Regina through Storybrooke’s streetscarefully trying not to get caught.

As Regina had left the town at her back,however, Emma had started to get worried and her worry had turned into confusionwhen the brunette had stopped in front of the stables. A quaint place Emma hadalready visited once or twice albeit not feeling it really welcoming.

Looking at the hour, the blonde bit down herlips and took a deep breath, not sure if it was time already for her to turnback to the safety of the town in where the possibility of the brunette findingher and trying to kill her were less than here. Curiosity, however, had broughther this far and so, without thinking it twice, she muttered a quick “fuck it”that was swallowed up by her bug before she clasped her keys with her righthand and walked out of the car.

The cold weather of fall hit her as she tooktwo steps towards the structure, hands quickly transforming into fists into herjacket’s pockets as she took one look at if before biting her bottom lip. Shehadn’t seen anyone but a puny caretaker last time she had needed to do herrounds so close to the forest’s line and a part of her wondered if that hadbeen the reason why Regina had decided to visit the small place; a way ofchecking on it. Extricating her right hand from her pocket she run it throughher tresses, not really knowing what to do.

A grunt was what decided it for her. Just asshe was about to turn towards the car and pretend she hadn’t followed Regina toStorybrooke’s stables, a whine floated towards her, brought to her by the windthat surrounded the place and made the leaves of the surrounding trees shiver andmutter around Emma as the blonde glanced around her, trying to see where thesound was coming from.

Realizing that more than the wooden buildingthe plain that stood behind it was also part of the stables, she took severalmore steps into that direction until the sight of a galloping horse around the plainmade her frown.

And if her mind had wondered already all thereasons possible for Regina to have  hadleft in the middle of the day only to drive to the stables what she found wassomething she hadn’t truly thought about because in the middle of the yard,quickly approaching while stirring an animal Emma truly felt terrified for the unmistakablefigure of the mayor stood against the greying sky, its shilouette black andbrown in a riding ensemble that became more clear as she came closer.

The sight of Regina riding the animal was whatmade Emma halt, the cold wind hitting her mercilessly as she found herselfstaring, unable to say anything. She, Emma admitted, eyes squinted, didn’t looklike the woman she had met before and for a second she could almost picture herin the book Henry didn’t stop talking about, saddle and all. The idea, despite everythingRegina had accused her on doing and their ongoing feud, made her smile.

And as she walked back to the front façade ofthe building, bug’s on sight, she couldn’t but think how the brunette didn’tseem like the cold mayor she had previously encountered before but rather…someone younger.

Emma’s skin prickled at the thought and as sheheard the grunt of the horse getting nearer, she squared her shoulders, herboots crunching the fallen leaves that created a sea of maroons, reds andyellows around her. She had still time, she reflected, to go back to the carbut, somehow, that didn’t feel like an option.

                                                              -.-

“So, this is where you come whenever you don’tfeel like sending me out of town?

Regina didn’t startle as Emma walked inside thestructure, her hands caressing the horse’s mane. She, however, sent the blondea murderous look once she turned towards her, the shadows casted by the quicklydying light outside running down her clothing which, Emma confirmed as shetried her best not to stare, was definetely different than the power suits shehad come to associate with the brunette.

“I guess asking why you are not working is awaste of time, Miss Swan.”

Emma could feel vague rage she always feltclose to Regina clouding her sight as she pointed at the older woman, notletting her flustered state shown as she kept on taking into the image ofRegina’s riding pants.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Regina sighed deeply, her knuckles protruding asshe glanced briefly at the horse she had been riding.

“I don’t need to explain myself, Sheriff. I’myour superior.”

Emma narrowed her eyes and shrugged, the usualfire returning to her chest. Much more manageable, she thought while taking onedespondent step towards Regina, that the thoughts that had entered into herhead after seeing Regina riding.

“Then I don’t need to tell you how I need to domy rounds, madam mayor. I just happened to be near.”

Regina almost growled at her, approaching heras she tensed her upper body. Emma could feel her own body shagging in responseand for that she frowned inwardly, not having really expected her mood to swayso rapidly.

“Do what you please then.”

The words were void of any fire and Emmaconsidered leaving it like that, turning and leaving, pretending to have notseen Regina seeming carefree, happy, and not an ounce of the woman she now hadin front of her.

She, however, didn’t stop and so she spoke again,unsure.

“I never would have considered you the type wholikes to ride.” A ghost of a teasing smile found its way at the end of herwords and she could see Regina smiling slightly at them, suddenly relaxed andmore like the woman she had momentarily looked like during the first minutesthey had known each other.

“There is a type.”

There was a strange inflection on the “p”,brown eyes shining as the rumbling of the rain grew stronger above their heads,the smell of pasture clouding Emma’s thoughts as she, instead of halting, kepton speaking.

Her next words, however, fell flat.

“The ones whose horses were bought by theirmothers, yes.”

The heat had returned but this time conceleadby the ice-cold stare Regina directed at her, her elbows and cheeks anglespainted in black as Emma felt the same tingling she had felt before on the tipsof her fingers, making them twitch.

“Weren’t you leaving, sheriff?”

Regina hummed, still staring at her in the waythat made Emma always think that the brunette was constantly playing a game ofchess. Sucking on her breath and gritting her teeth, the blonde kept her ownstare, doubt ebbing again as she channeled on her own anger at Regina’s spite.The brunette’s eyes were still dark, stormy, and for a moment Emma felt her whole-bodytensing, sensing a fight that quickly left Regina’s posture as the horse at thestable pawed the hay-covered floor before neighing softly.

Turning towards the animal, Regina rose both ofher hands and caressed the animal’s skin in soothing movements, her shouldersraising slightly as Emma kept on staring, hands on her pockets and not knowingwhat to do. Her throat, she realized when she swallowed as Regina kept onlooking at the animal, felt raw and as seconds transformed into minutes shefelt a wave of tiredness washing over her.

Sufficient, she realized once Regina steeledher back once again, turning towards her with fire on her eyes, to not want tokeep fighting. For now, at least.

“There was a boy who taught me how to ride.”Regina’s voice reached her and Emma blinked, not sure why the brunette suddenlyshared that kind of story with her. The older woman seemed as surprised as shewas and for a second she rose her chin, pursing her lips into a thin line. Hervoice was steady when she spoke again but Emma could hear the echo of somethingelse entirely shimmering just below the surface. A detail she swallowed just asquickly as Regina kept on talking, lips devoid of makeup and disheveled hairthat framed far too shinning pupils. “He died.”

Emma swallowed, seeing that there was more tothe story, details that Regina was obviously hiding from her. Which, shethought as she took a big gulp of air, changing the weight of her body to thetips of her feet, was understandable.

“My mother didn’t buy me the pony, Miss Swan.”Regina’s anger was still there, burning yet controlled just on the brunette’schest, coiling on the back of her gaze when Emma stared back at her. “She didn’tlike him or how much time I spent riding nor me and she was sure I remembered that every single day. But I adored him and everything she hated.”

Emma could see the tension growing inside ofthe brunette, clawing up her insides but she remained silent. She wasn’t surethat the brunette was talking to her anymore.

“Until I didn’t have it in me.” Thewhispered admission was soft enough for Emma to pretend she hadn’t listened butshe did and for a moment the two women fell silent as the neigh of the horsesfilled the air, the creaking of the wind outside only growing as minutespassed. The scent of ozone filled the air and, for a moment, Emma could feelthe hair at the back of her neck standing, reacting to the electricity thatseemed to have started to fill the air around them as the already dim light allbut disappeared from outside.

The storm was getting nearer.

Clearing her throat as it became apparent thatRegina wasn’t going to continue, Emma glanced at her, the memory of her riding superimposingitself to the image she had had of her until now. It felt strange, shereflected, how little she suddenly didn’t want to fight as opposed as righteousshe had felt less than two hours ago.

Just as the first thunder growled at some pointstill far away from the two of them, Regina’s whole posture changed once again.Hardening her features, the older woman crossed her arms in front of her, theglow on her eyes all but disappearing as she chased Emma’s gaze with her own.

“I’m sorry.” Emma replied at the end, a whisperthat almost didn’t reach Regina.  Herwords made the brunette smile sadly but scoff just as quick.

“Don’t be. You should still be doing yourrounds, sheriff.”

And, as she turned back to the horse Emma knewthe moment had passed.

[plasticnightmaredoll]

"Resident Evil 7: Biohazard" spoiler-filled review

Well, I went ahead and replayed "Resident Evil 7" after finishing "Resident Evil 8" twice. I wanted to see if the former was still as good as I remember it being when I first played it several years ago.

Sure enough, it is still my favorite RE game so far (I have only played 4, but still, I don't think any of the other games will beat RE7 in my eyes) and one of my favorite survival horror games (my favorite gaming genre).

RE7 is why I even got into the RE game franchise at all. I always (and still do) prefer "Silent Hill's" games, and never had a strong desire to play any of the RE games. I just...wasn't impressed, I suppose, with what I saw and knew.

RE7 changed that and now I have played three other games in the franchise and have the intention to play most of the others (the ones on PC only because I don't have, can't afford, and don't need a console right now).

I actually have less to say about RE7 than I do about RE8, but that isn't a bad thing, mind you.

Anyway, onto the review!

The Good

Setting/Locations

I liked the location the game took place in. It was a departure from what RE had offered so far, bringing us back to the roots of the series in a way. The original "Resident Evil" took place in a creepy mansion, and RE7 takes place in three creepy, rundown houses.

Horror games taking place in a city (which RE2 and RE3's remakes did) doesn't mean they're not capable of being intense horror experiences, but I just like the classic aesthetic and age-old trope of "haunted" houses. Also, by taking place in the woods and not in a city (nowhere near a city from what I could tell), RE7 increases the tension by making you feel completely isolated. There's nowhere to run, except the woods, and who knows if you'll find help in time.

I also loved the part where you play as Mia and you have to initially explore the wrecked ship without any weapons, thus causing you to have to be cautious around monsters while still trying to get things done. Even when you get ammo, it doesn't turn the segment into a walk in the park.

Plot

The story was good, starting off as a bunch of fucked up mysteries (What happened to this house? What happened to this family? Were they always crazy? What's with the ability to "glue" severed limbs back on? What's with the crazy regeneration ability for Jack? Why is Mia so crazy and violent? What's with the mold?) and does provide answers at a steady pace as you progress until all is revealed by the end.

Still, it's not like it makes things less disturbing. In some ways, it makes it even more so. I mean, we have a kid with special powers who actually just wants a family but seems to lack any sense of compassion or mercy, probably because she was kept in a lab all her life. We have a family she "corrupted" and led to the deaths of 3 of the 4. Then you have Mia, Ethan's wife, who has been forced to turn evil on occasion, even against her own husband, and she nearly died. And, well, we have Ethan who is stuck in the middle of this giant mess.

It's not an over-the-top horror story, and while it relies on some horror game tropes, it never gets stale. It uses the tropes wisely, creating an atmospheric survival horror experience.

First Person

I am not a big fan of the 3rd person perspective that the other RE games have (minus RE8). I'm not a fan of it in general, and it actually makes the game less scary. You know you're playing as a character because you can clearly see them, so it's more like watching a movie, I guess. It can still be scary just not as much, in my opinion.

The first-person perspective is perfect for horror games because they make you feel like you're there. You are seeing things from the character's own eyes, like you're in their place, so the danger feels much more real. I'm so glad RE7 seems to have broken this trend as is possibly steering the franchise towards first person.

Weapons

Now, I was debating whether to put this in "the good" or "mixed thoughts" section, but I'm keeping it here. RE8 does have the benefit of weapon customization, so you can give your weapons more firepower, decrease their reload time, have them carry more bullets before reloading...RE7 has none of this. What you see is what you get.

Now, I don't see this as an issue, in fact, it's kind of a good thing. Since the weapons you find are going to remain as they are for the whole game, including the shotgun which only holds 4(?) rounds, you have to be smart. I think there is less ammo in RE7 than in RE8, too, so you really have to be careful. If you're not implementing some sort of strategy in fights in RE7, you could find yourself running out of ammo or not switching between weapons fast enough. You can only hold 4 in the active slots, too, which limits you further because you may have to swap two weapons during a fight.

It's not annoying...it's horrifying in its own way! I mean, if you have a bunch of ammo laying around and you can make your weapons Doom-style in terms of power, then where is the fun? Where is the horror? You can just blast away all day at enemies. By limiting what you have like RE7 does, you feel like it's a much more intense gaming experience, not to mention a more realistic one. I mean, in reality, you wouldn't be able to even carry that many weapons at once, nor would you be able to easily craft lots of ammo, nor would you be able to upgrade your weapons on the fly.

Graphics & Soundtrack

The soundtrack was very fitting, adding additional chills to the already haunting atmosphere but never forcing the "mood," so to speak. Graphics still look fantastic even now after 4 years have passed. Sure, RE8 has more polished visuals, but RE7 still is a very attractive game in terms of graphics quality. Lots of great lighting effects, including a lot of shadows to build more suspense since you're not running around in broad daylight or in places that are fully lit (most of the time).

Characters

While there aren't any remarkable characters in the game, I think they're all still memorable.

Jack is an absolute psychopath who loves to stalk Ethan while taunting him. When you see what he used to be like later in the game, it's almost sad because you can tell how distraught he was at what b became of him and his family.

Marguerite is the crazy bug lady, trying to get you to eat her gross food.

Lucas is the wide-eyed, sadistic killer who likes to make his victims play morbid games.

Zoe is the only sane one in the family and provides Ethan with much-needed guidance.

Mia comes off as the typical "wifey" type but she can actually kick some ass and knows how to use guns.

Ethan is a very resilient and noble character who cares about his family and would do anything for them.

Eveline is a creepy, weird girl (a trope but it still works here), but her backstory is kind of sad when you think about it: She has been raised in a lab her whole life as an experiment and has no concept of what love and compassion are, and acts out like a disturbed child more than an evil monster.

Bosses

I thought the boss fights were all pretty challenging, especially your final encounter with Jack and the fight with Marguerite. Eveline was easier to deal with, but when you think about it, it was still messed up considering you had just killed her and now she was mutating into a horrifying monster in an attempt to get revenge.

Sure, there weren't many boss fights, but a game doesn't need to have a dozen of them to be good. As long as what you get is entertaining and challenging, then it's all good to me.

Mixed Thoughts

The gross (and sometimes goofy) mold monsters posed a significant threat, a lot of it because you have to deal with them in small areas. They're so weird-looking, so inhuman, yet they make up the majority of the enemies in the game. It's the mold monsters and Marguerite's evil bugs.

They served their purpose well and provided some decent jump scares, but I wish there had been a bit more variety. I'm not sure what considering the location but I feel like there could have been one or two more monster types (like the nasty spider babies from "Not a Hero"). Hell, even having some gators around for Ethan to deal with would have been fun.

The Bad

Nothing!

Final thoughts:

I really love "Resident Evil 7." It's fun to play and chilling all at once, which is what I want out of horror games. It's easily the best thing to happen to RE since probably RE2 or RE3 (the original versions), and gave the series a much-needed change in direction.

Grade: A

Resident Evil Village: B+

Resident Evil 2 (2019 remake): A-

Resident Evil 3 (2020 remake): B-