#no but seriously nobody gives a shit about other sports in this country we only care about badminton and weight lifting

[fcbalding]

badminton to southeast asians is the same as basketball is to americans lmao

[artificialqueens]

And Everyday: When Life Gives You Lemons, Put Some Vodka in Your Lemonade (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode, Jaida Essence Hall/Jan Sport) - Campvanjie

AN: This was originally written for a fic exchange, and posted to AO3 under my now deleted account there on May 1st, 2020. Reposting here, because I’m proud of it, and am clearing old S12 fics from my Google drive. I’m the original author of this work, and there’s absolutely no plagiarism going on!

Summary: Gigi needs a soft place to land after her quarter-life meltdown, and Crystal realizes the happily every after she gave up on, might not be totally out of reach. Meanwhile, Jaida and Jan work on restoring an old barnhouse; because marriage begets home improvement.Prompts: Parenthood AU, Enemies to Lovers, Idiots in Love, and Angst all used to varying degrees.

CW: conversations around divorce/child custody and (past) bullying behavior, character mentions (non-specific) mental health issues as the reason for a past breakup.

-

“- Ugh, anyway, it’s like 3:30, he’s almost an hour late and I don’t know why the fuck I even got all dressed up just to sit at court being looked at like I’m some cheap bitch-”, Gigi grumbled into her phone. It was pressed against her cheek as she tried her best to juggle her purse and a extra-large coffee held in her other hand, her livid glare captured perfectly in the harsh, white light of the bathroom mirror across from her.

“I dunno, maybe because you have to be there? Kind of the mom thing to do.”, Crystal told her, static edging into her voice.

It was a long-distance call after all, and Gigi had fought against her fingers dialing the number almost by muscle memory. She had only relented once she had gotten through the packed hallway of the courts complex, and almost collapsed into what seemed like the only empty bathroom.

Call Crystal, had been the only thing she could think of do, in between beating her palms against the cool, brick walls, and shaking with sobs she refused to shed for fear of ruining her makeup.

Without missing a beat; Crystal had picked up, her voice always high and slowed, syllables enunciated in a way that had trained Gigi into asking for coffee, like it was spelled with a K, calling her son’s name, with the E in the middle a sharp, upward spike.

Crystal, Gigi realized with a start; was who had taught her to gulp in her breaths to hide herself crying, and shove her fist into her front pocket, to keep herself from shaking so much.

“I know. I know you’re right. I just- God, I’m so sick of it. It just want this all to be over so I can go back to what’s important, and stop feeling like my entire world is crashing down around me."

Crystal laughed, a little too dry for it to be genuine. "Hey, Gigi?"

"Hm?"

"If you- if you wanted, maybe you and the little munchkin could visit? Come see me in Missouri, maybe it’ll get your mind off things."

Gigi’s hands stopped underneath the stream of lukewarm water flowing from the faucet, her eyes meeting her reflection in the mirror. She looked like shit, no matter how much her carefully applied façade remained in place, her gaze jittered around the small room and she had never felt so truly tired in her entire life.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I mean, me of all people should know something about everything falling apart."

Less than an hour later, Gigi found herself dialing Crystal’s number again. She stood outside the courthouse, her glasses misted from the early- evening rain shower as she waited for her car.

Relinquished. She didn’t know whether to laugh, or cry, or take her parents up on their offer to live in their Florida timeshare and disappear off the face of the planet, too.

"He’s not coming because he filed paperwork to relinquish parental rights two weeks ago. In the eyes of the law, it’s just the two of you.”, her lawyer had told her, after finding Gigi just outside the bathroom. Jackie Cox was always dressed in tweed, pastel, pantsuits, dark hair coiffed in buttery smooth curls at the top of her head, her lips pursed in a thin, straight line, as though she was perpetually exhausted.

Gigi supposed that, being one of the city’s longest-serving family court attorneys would do that to you.

“I don’t know how I missed it on the dockets, but I should have told you first.”, Jackie apologized; her hand warm and steady at the small of Gigi’s back as she walked her client back up the hallway.

Gigi grunted, shrugging her shoulders underneath her jacket. “It’s fin- It wouldn’t have changed anything, Jackie. Really, thanks for everything."

She let herself lean against Jackie, letting one of her oldest friends wrap her arms around her, breathing in the scent of Jackie’s honeysuckle perfume on the courthouse steps.

"I’m sorry this happened-”, Jackie started, and Gigi could feel her heart sink to her stomach.

She had never done well with pity, least of all when she truly deserved it.

“Don’t be. Please, just don’t.”

“What are you going to do now?”, Jackie asked, as Gigi stepped out of her embrace, surveying the street before them that was quickly filling with cars and bikes and buses as the work day finished and school let out for the day.

“Right now? Get in an Uber and hope they don’t charge me triple for being late at daycare again.”

Crystal picked up on the fourth ring, and Gigi could hear the sound of a sink running in the background. Water splashed against metal, and the distinct sound of another woman’s voice, screeching with laughter, buzzed through the speakers of Gigi’s phone.

“Whoo- chile, I’m telling you if you come any closer with that flour, I’m gonna-"

"Shit. Sorry.”, Crystal had muffled the phone against her chest, the static only cutting out when Gigi was sure she had ducked into another room.

“How quickly can you get that guest room set up? I’m pretty sure we can make it for tomorrow if I drive through the night.”

-

“Mom- Mom it’s twelve-thirty-five. It’s way, way, way past your bedtime!”, Destiny crowed from his carseat, kicking at Gigi’s back. His blonde curls were plastered to the side of his face, lips dusted with salt from the bag of chips that Gigi had let him pick out form himself at their last rest stop.

Their entire lives had fit neatly into the sickeningly suburban five-seater that his father had insisted on, the largest luggage case filled with her son’s clothes and bedsheets still having enough room to jostle under his bare feet.

She knew it was impulsive, and stupid, and half-expected the police to pull them over several states away, but as the highways emptied to nothing bur a ribbon of white lines that kept them on the right side of the road, Gigi became more and more convinced she was doing the right thing.    

“My bedtime is five-thirty, kiddo. Yours is eight, so you get to stay up so much later.”, she joked easily, never having had Destiny for so many hours, all by herself in the years since he had started preschool.

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense! It’s eight at night and right now it’s morning! Nobody goes to sleep at five in the morning!”, he shrieked, and giggled at his own reflection in the rearview mirror.  

“That’s when the garbage truck wakes up!”, he added. Gigi didn’t remember, if he had ever talked so much, his voice jarring and so different from the toddler babbles she had recorded, and kept on her phone to watch on her worst days.

Her textile studio had taken up her days, until her partners had grown tired of Gigi stumbling in at eleven in the morning, unable to force herself to care very much about their bottom line, and the grey, dull world outside until Destiny had come to kick her out of bed.

Afterwards, his father would take her nights, the pressure incessant that they be exactly what they looked like- a family that belonged in a catalog, with a perfectly dressed, perfectly quiet child, money to burn and success in spades; drinking from matching flutes of champagne while Destiny was left alone in his basement bedroom with a baby monitor and his collection of stuffed animals.

Gigi faltered in a sea of plastic smiles and shallow conversations, and at the end of the day, all of her friends who had warned her off marrying her senior-year rebound, giving her life over to the promise of a bright, empty future, had been right.

He wanted to live in a dream, where she was only ever a sidekick; their son nothing more to him than a prop to parade, an filled-in item on a checklist that he had given up without a second thought.

Gigi had named him Destiny, because she liked it first, but second, because it had sounded so good with his last name; that she had never even considered having to change it.

Destiny Goode was a name that sounded like a motivational quote from a caveman, and she briefly wondered, merging on to the next interstate her GPS system highlighted- if a six-year-old would remember his name if she changed it right now.

He could be a Garret, or a Jaden, just like every other boy at school.

A fresh slate with no more questions to be asked, and nothing left to tie her perfect boy to Gigi’s worst mistake.

“-So, she’ll be here at nine-thirty, and we’re all going to be nice as fuck and not make it weird, okay?"

Crystal smoothed down the pleats of her skirt with her palms, her legs crossed in front of her at the breakfast table, as her eyes flitted between Jaida and Jan, who both had forks in hand as they enjoyed the chilaquilles that Crystal had set out for their meal, knowing this was going to be a big conversation.

"Chile-”

“Okay, go back to the part where she broke up with you and then ended up married to darksided Warner-"

"Guys!”, Crystal protested, glaring down at her friends.

Jaida and Jan had bought the barn on her family’s property not even weeks after Crystal had agreed to put it on the market, the decrepit, white-washed wood tower an eyesore along the country highway.

They were the closest thing she had to neighbors, in the wide acres of rolling plains that separated everyone by miles along the road, and it hadn’t taken long for the three of them to grow close.

Together, they had carved a guest house out of the front entryway, laying water pipes and television cable; and were working on renovations to turn the barn’s hall into an event space, with glass lanterns hanging high along the rafters that Crystal remembered walking across like a tightrope when she was a child.

Jan drilled in heavy wood planks to form a catwalk that overlooked the barn floor, which you could reach from the outside fire escape, and Crystal had been thrilled to finally put her years of following behind her father to use, toolbox in hand as she sanded down the reinforced beams holding up the roof.

If Gigi hadn’t called her, Crystal and Jan had a day ahead of them of hauling the shingles from a pallet left by the side of the road, in Crystal’s truck up to the barn, while Jaida had her camera, and a full calendar of Senior Portraits to finish before the end of the school year.

“I know it sounds like a lot, but please, please, don’t make it weird. Gigi always…- She always needed everything to go perfectly, and I hate to say it but… I might be her only real friend. Like, ever.”, Crystal told them, biting down on the inside of her cheek.

Gigi, who for the past few years, had been nothing but  a collection of memories that would fire in her brain occasionally, like a slight twinge from an old injury, would be back in the flesh at her doorstep, at any minute. Crystal barely had the time to recruit Jaida’s help in clearing out her guest rooms for Gigi and her son, much less process how she truly felt about offering up her home as their refuge.

Gigi had never responded to the birthday cards she sent for Destiny after his third birthday; barely ever logging into her Facebook page that had been filled with photos of the two of them through college; and seemed to abruptly be cut off after she had gotten married. Occasionally, something would trickle through, a vacation photo of her little family, and anniversary note, a first day at school and a post that asked everyone to go and follow her business page.

For all of the refreshing Crystal did, Gigi’s studio seemed to never upload anything beyond its logo and business hours.

“Nah, listen, I get it, babe.”, said Jaida, a tortilla chip hanging from the corner of her mouth. “People grow and change and we gotta meet them where they’re at."

She nodded towards Jan, who was gulping down her orange juice, with a fond grin. "If you would have told my queen bitch ass when I was in high school, that I would end up married to Miss Team Too Much, I would have stole your man and told the whole school some dirty secret.”, Jaida laughed. “Everybody’s dealing with something, and I was so closeted and angry I was acting a fool for free."

"You were never closeted.”, Jan piped up, her voice rising an octave from normal, making Crystal widen her eyes as she looked to her side.

“Glass closet, honey. Besides, my point is, it’s water under a bridge, whatever we do when we’re young. I love you now.”, she said, pressing a kiss to Jan’s temple as she rose to go take their dishes to the sink. “You ended up turning out to be an amazing woman. I’m sure Gigi’s just the same."

-

The sun was high over the horizon line when Gigi’s car rumbled up the range road, rocks spraying into the grass as her wheels skipped over the pockmarked dirt.

She had taken Destiny to a hotel waterpark with a free breakfast, the absolute joy and shock on his face more than worth being several hours off of the arrival time she had texted Crystal. He was asleep now, only dressed in a pair of shorts and his sneakers, the buckles of his carseat starting to chafe red against his skin.  

Gigi turned left at the barn, towards the yellow-shuttered house she remembered visiting over so many spring breaks and reading weeks, surprised to see two workers, stacking pallets of shingles by the barn door. One was a gorgeous, darker-skinned woman, the sun glittering from the highlights in her hair as she waved over to Gigi, making her grin despite herself.

Crystal’s tiny town had always been welcoming, the huge open expanses of space seeming to make everyone all the more willing to seek a connection- though Gigi would have never guessed that Crystal and her family would ever do anything with the barn, which looked just a little less decrepit than she remembered, so many years later.

She parked by the balcony, just in front of Crystal’s truck, and shook Destiny awake, helping him into the first shirt which she could reach from his bag.

"C'mon, Des. We’re here. Are you excited to say hi to Mom’s friend? She stayed up all night to make you new room!”, she asked, watching as he took in the word around them.

“You have friends?”, he blurted out, so plainly that Gigi couldn’t keep a smile off her face, even if he had probably heard that from a TV show she probably shouldn’t have been letting him see.

“That’s not very nice."

Still, she kissed the top of his head, and helped him out of the car, his tiny hand feeling heavy in hers as they made their way up the stairs to Crystal’s door.

The balcony creaked under their feet, as Gigi raised her hand to press against the doorbell, Destiny tugging against her shirt, pointing up at the colorful strips of cut paper that still adorned the windows, the sun cutting what must have been a stained-glass glow inside the house.

"Snowflakes, like at school!”, he called to her, pressing his face against the windowsill before Gigi pulled him back.

“No, it’s called papel picado.”, Gigi corrected, remembering how Crystal had spent hours at her paper press in the basement of the art rooms in college, a mess of stencils spread across the desk, a chisel and mallet in hand as she studied the pictures her grandmother would send her.

Crystal’s tongue would poke out of her mouth, her pupils blown wide in concentration, oblivious to the darkening sky above her until Gigi would find her, at half-past midnight, standing still wide awake in the middle of confetti slices of cut paper piling around her.

They would kiss, exhilarated and young and alone together, and Gigi would never think anything was wrong until-

“Gigi! Geegs! Look who’s late to their own party!”, Crystal squealed, the door swinging wide open to reveal her; red-brown hair still as wild as ever, piled into a messy ponytail atop her head, and a smile so wide Gigi could see nearly all her teeth. Crystal sparkled with the same craft glitter that had always hung from her fingertips, her cheeks flush as though she’d run from one end of the house to the other.

Her eyes looked bright again, the memory of which was so foreign to Gigi that she took a moment to take it all in, Crystal’s bright skirt and her tight, sleeveless top looking all the more like relics of the summers they had spent together.

“Ahoy.”, she greeted, raising a hand to her forehead in a mock salute.

Crystal giggled.

Giggled, like she always had, and waved them inside with a flourish of her hand.

“Are you mad at me?”, Jaida asked, kicking open the toolbox that she and Jan shared.

They had watched Crystal let the storied Gigi into the house, and decided to occupy themselves with bolting down the side light fixtures in the barn, until whatever was probably going on between their neighbor and ex calmed down enough for Crystal to invite them in.

But, Jan’s temper had grown increasingly short through their day, her drill now clenched in a white-knuckled grip as Jaida held the ladder she was on steady below her, digging in the tool box for the next drill bit she would need.

“Why- the fuck- would I be mad at you?”, she said through gritted teeth, over the sound of the power tool in her hand.

“‘Cause you just said fuck, for one.”, Jaida muttered, her eyes rolling skyward. Her wife had always been a little dramatic, but there was nothing Jaida hated more than the silent treatment, far preferring a knock-down, drag-out, screaming fight to being frozen out for hours with little more than a sharp glance or a silent nodded sent her way.

Jan shrugged her shoulders, her favorite blue and red flannel shirt stretching deliciously tight across her back.

Was Jan teasing her? Was it all some kind of elaborate game that was intended to be finished in their bedroom?

“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s killing the mood, babe.”, Jaida teased, hoping that Jan would get the hint.

Instead, she dropped the drill from her grip, clattering down the ladder as it bounced on the hard-packed ground. The battery pack popped from the tool’s back, not that Jan could be bothered as she stalked away, ignoring Jaida’s raised eyebrows.

“Hey- hey- you can’t just wreck stuff because you’re having a bad day!”, Jaida called after her wife, looking down at the mess of wires at her feet. “And I don’t know how to fix this shit so-"

She fell silent, as Jan’s steps echoed up the outdoor fire escape, her body disappearing until Jaida could only see the outline of her long, blonde hair, blowing in the wind from the balcony.

"Jan?”, she shouted, following her up the steps. “Hey, I know I fucked up, but you gotta tell me how otherwise I’m not gonna know how to fix it."

"Right.”, Jan scoffed as Jaida rounded the corner, the two of them facing towards Crystal’s house, where a second-floor light flickered on and off several times. “I forgot that everything’s so easy for you, I just have to spell it all out."

"Okay, what does that even mean?"

Jan glowered at her wife, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Why did you tell Crystal the reason you were a bully in high school was because you weren’t out?"

"That’s what this about? Baby-”, Jaida reached forward, her hand only barely touching Jan’s shoulder before her wife flinched away. “I was just trying to make her feel a little better about the whole thing, everything going on with Gigi. I don’t even remember if I was a bully in high school."

"Maybe I do.”, Jan snapped, her eyes flashing up in anger for a split second.

Jaida sighed, looking back over the horizon; where the sun was starting to dip at the back of scattered farmhouses and cottage homes littered accross the plains. “Look- I- I’m sorry and I shouldn’t have brought it up-”

“You’ve never apologized."

"You want me to say sorry?"

It had been years since Jan and Jaida had reconnected, long separated from the people that they had been as children.

Jaida had remembered Jan as an easy target from their first day in kindergarten, a tiny, loud girl who fell into a pattern that followed until Jan had left for college on a musical theatre scholarship, and Jaida had gone to play basketball for a small, comfortable liberal arts college in the heartland. When she had met Jan again; she was another person who shared the same name, at an alumni event where both of them had been invited to promote their respective colleges.

Where Jan had always worn her heart on her sleeve, the woman Jaida had married was confident, and passionate, witty and driven beyond belief.

She hadn’t had a second thought proposing to her, in the middle of the butterfly sanctuary at the zoo in the springtime, kissing her passionately without question at their Central Park wedding, their families both swaying together underneath the canopy of a white tent, to the music of the very first DJ they had found on Google.

"I just want you to- admit that it happened.”

“You’re acting like this was a big deal.”, Jaida groaned. “Baby, we were kids."

"It was a big deal. I thought about the stupid shit you and your friends said, for years after- and you don’t know what that was like."

"Okay- I-”

Jaida sighed, laying her hands on the railing that rounded the balcony, squeezing the metal rung tightly against her palms, the fight seeping out of her as she studied her wife, who looked on the verge of tears.

“Jan- baby, hey, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Silence fell between them, the sound of the crickets the only thing that cut in between their breaths. Jan buried her face in her hands, elbows resting against the railing beside her wife.

“I know. It’s just, that stuff adds up sometimes.”

She pressed herself into her wife’s shoulder, letting her head rest against Jaida’s arm.

“It adds up the other way around, too. Don’t think it doesn’t.”, Jan whispered, and Jaida finally let go of a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in, her arm snaking around to rest around her wife’s waist. “It’s just a lot of work.”

“Then I’ll work on it, baby. Just tell me what you need.”

Gigi was surprised, at how instantly familiar Crystals kitchen was, breakfast leftovers heaped on top of Destiny’s plate while she quietly accepted a Diet Coke, sipping at the flat beverage as she finally began to relax. Gigi could tell her son was starting to feel sleepy, his eyes losing focus even as he kept lifting his fork to his mouth.

“Cielito.”, Crystal cooed, as she ruffled his curls, passing by the two of them as she moved to shutter the blinds in the kitchen. Destiny clearly thrived under the attention, and Gigi wondered if he had always craved touch, or if he was only a child who was excited by all of the new things around him. The heat was sticky, and Crystal’s brightly painted walls made the whole house look even more like an eternal birthday party, the fridge covered with photos and magnets.

Crystal had never learned to speak Spanish, at least as far as Gigi knew, having begged Crystal to help her pass her class for months when they had been roommates, but she supposed, she must have picked up more of it, with all the time she must have spent with her family afterwards.

“Where are you Mom and Dad?”, Gigi asked, swirling her straw in her Diet Coke. “I should say hi, right?"

Crystal shrugged. "We could Facetime? They were back in Mexico for a while after my Dad got sick, but right now they’re travelling Europe, living the old people dream. I’m sure my Mom still misses you."

Gigi took a deeper breath, her lips pursed as she watched Crystal dump dirty dishes in the sink.

"Is um- are you getting the barn demolished? I saw a couple people working on it outside."

"Oh, that’s just Jan and Jaida. They live there. I sold it a few months ago, and they’re trying to turn it into, like, a wedding hall. You’d love them- they’re the gayes-”, she paused, looking down at Destiny as he tipped his glass of orange juice into his mouth. “They’re super, super in love, and so gross."

Gigi could feel herself start to blush, even though she had started having that conversation with her son almost as soon as he had started to learn to talk.

"I usually have them over for dinner, so you can say hi."

Gigi coughed, swallowing the question that had been at the tip of her tongue since she had spoken to Crystal the day before.

"So? are you seeing anyone?”, she asked.

Crystal shook her head. “I’m not really looking.”, she said. “Still putting the cry in Crystal!”, she laughed. “And you were right, I wouldn’t want to put that on anyone else."

"I- ”, Gigi bit back her reply, not quite knowing if this was a talk she wanted to have, with her son arranging chips on his plate not two feet in front of her.

“Hey- buddy”, Crystal tapped on Destiny’s shoulder, nudging him with her hip. “Go wash your hands in the bathroom. It’s the one with the fish on the door and Star Wars on the curtain."

He looked back up at his mother, Gigi giving him a curt nod of approval as he skittered up the hallway.

"He’s a cute kid, you know? You’re doing a good job.”, she told Gigi, pushing the boy’s chair back in.

“Yeah… mostly not my job, but I’ll pass it on to our last nanny."

Gigi had stood with their plates, following Crystal to the sink where she happily plunged her arms into the hot, soapy bubbles, not caring very much for how her shirtsleeves got soaked in the water, navy fabric clinging to her wrists.

"Seriously. Gigi- look at me.”, Crystal reached around her, shutting off the faucet with a decisive clicking noise. “I don’t blame you for being twenty-one and not sticking around after I flipped out because I didn’t know how to deal with college, and real life and everything. It’s a day by day thing.”, she shrugged, reaching to open a cabinet and put the glasses in the drying rack away.

Crystal’s body was almost uncomfortably close, pressing into Gigi’s side like she remembered them being like, when they had shared their first apartment, having barely enough room for two people in between the fridge and the stove.

“Some days are better than others. But it’s-”, she paused, and smirked, her lips curling into the same wicked grin that Gigi could never shake from her memories, no matter how hard she tried. “No offense, but you’re not important enough for it to have been your fault."

"Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”, Gigi couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Kick a girl when she’s down?"

"Or, some people just have shitty brain chemistry, and other people are assholes. Stop thinking it’s all on you all the time, you absolute flaming fuck-up.”, Crystal told her, her words softening behind her smile.

“Maybe don’t say flaming, but I did fu-"

Destiny padded back into the room, rubbing at his eyes. "Is it adult time yet?”, he asked, his tiny mouth yawning open. “Everyone’s saying all the bad words."

Crystal snickered, turning her undivided attention back to rinsing out the sink, her back turned to the both of them as if to say Gigi was on her own with that one.

"Good night, I guess.”, she muttered, shuffling across the tile towards him.

“See you tomorrow, Geegs. Just don’t forget, there’s always that.”

-

Gigi laid in bed with Destiny resting half on her chest, her son not wanting to leave her side, once the novelty of their adventure had worn off, and he had started to realize that there was a certain kind of permanence, to Crystal’s rainbow-colored walls, to the laughter from the kitchen that came from Jan and Jaida, who had eyed Gigi with enough suspicion to let it be known to her that she was absolutely not welcome in whatever little world they had built.

Okay, maybe the last bit was just in her head, and she could just introduce herself properly at breakfast the next morning- but she had still jumped at the chance to lock herself in Destiny’s appointed bedroom, pretending that he would need her to fall asleep, even though he had only wanted to cuddle before passing out completely the second that she dimmed the lights.

She scrolled through her phone, mindlessly as her son shifted in her arms, the message bubble beside his father’s name still lit up red with unread texts, that she skipped through to flick past her Instagram feed, landing on Crystal’s profile at the very bottom of her following list. The very first account which she had followed, years ago, and the very last that she kept up with, the creeping intimacy of being under Crystal’s roof, trying to piece together the life she had dropped out of, thicker than the heat of the air around her.

Crystal’s photos were all filtered through something that made them look brighter, more vibrant than the rainy afternoons and damp wetlands that they featured in the background, the captions all long, effusive essays about the importance of showing up to vote, or the beauty of the creek behind her house in the summertime. The most recent photo, featured her lying in a bed of sunflowers, grinning up at the sky, eyes half-shut against the sunlight.

Don’t look right into a solar eclipse!, the caption started, followed by at least a dozen laughing emoji faces, alternating with bright pink flowers. Sometimes life just punches you in the face, dummy! And you just gotta deal with it anyway. Don’t waste a second!

Gigi chuckled, locking the phone and laying it back on the bedside table, trying to move as little as possible as she turned off what was left of the light in the bedroom, and drew herself closer to her son in her arms.

His breathing was steady, his hands reaching for her hair in his sleep.

“Okay, kiddo. I got you.”, she said to nobody in particular, sinking lower in the sheets so she could tuck them tighter around him.

There’s always tomorrow, she could hear Crystal telling her, her voice clear as the dream Gigi was starting to slip into.

The next morning, she would start putting everything back together again.

[marculees]

Epilepsy Awareness Month💜

I recently seen this post by @interstellix  who made great points about epilepsy for Epilepsy Awareness Month. It sums it up really well so I suggest you give it a read and reblog! Its nice to find another photosensitive here too because we’re such a small group within the epilepsy community. I deal with anxiety on top of my epilepsy and while they aren’t always related to each other, I don’t hear enough about the day-to-day worries of epileptics. Things that seem completely normal or fine to some people can be dangerous for me, which is why stuff like giving trigger warnings are much appreciated. But often, non-epileptics don’t know about what its like to actually live with epilepsy - not just having seizures. I want to add on some of my own experiences with a funky clickbait title, below the cut. Anyone who reads this all is a star and ily⭐️

10 Things Non-Epileptics Don’t Get (Yet)

1. That moment in movies when the character wakes up and a bunch of faces are gawking down at the camera uncomfortably. Always have someone to stay with the person having a seizure. But out of care for both that person and the people around, its best to get everyone else away. No one enjoys watching someone have a seizure - it’s scary and knowing you can’t stop it can ignite feelings of guilt or panic. For the person having the seizure, its embarrassing - they aren’t even conscious of what’s happening and for all they can remember, they were minding their own business and now they’re waking up and barely able to move their body without wincing in pain.

*TW: BODY FLUIDS* I’ve literally puked, shit and pissed myself all at the same time unconsciously in front of a room of people. I’m lucky these people were my family but it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing or upsetting knowing that everyone there saw me in such a state. A fear I had growing up was having a seizure in front of my class and the students making comments about it, thinking it was funny. In today’s age, filming seizures is something to worry about too because of how easily it can be shared to others online. Even if you aren’t an arsehole like that, try to be as respectful as possible and get everyone else to evacuate the room. At most, have three people to stay there: one person to stay close and time the seizure, one person to move furniture away and find something soft to lay under the epileptic’s head, and one person for crowd control who is keeping everyone else out and reassuring them all it’s okay.

Whatever you do, don’t make the epileptic feel bad for having a seizure. They can’t control it. Afterwards, comfort them and let them know its all over and you’ll stay with them until they feel better (unless they say they would rather be alone). Most of the time, the epileptic will be so tired and sore after their seizure that they’ll fall asleep. Let them; they need it. I’ve woken up on a couch, in my bed, the back of an ambulance or in a hospital bed and sometimes I was laying there for half an hour, sometimes a whole day. Knowing someone was there is relieving. Knowing everyone was there is shaming and it doesn’t make you feel any better when they’re all in your face afterwards too. Don’t be the camera crew.

2. Travelling alone is either a dream or everyday reality for a lot of people, but its a no-go for some of us. I was raised in a very overprotective household and still today, I don’t have a lot of freedom. Driving is usually one of the first bits of independence you get, but not for me. I’ve had seizures while out travelling because of the SUN. The sunlight flickering through trees, railings or bouncing off surfaces have triggered seizures in me where my family have had to pull over. The thought of being the one driving in such a scenario is terrifying to me, my loved ones and everyone else on the road. Driving is such a normalised thing for people my age that I’m embarrassed to bring up my own case unless someone specifically asks.

Then you have public transport. The sunlight issue is also here but this time, you’re with a bunch of strangers (see Point 1 again). Something my mum drilled into my head since I was younger was that if I ever got public transport by myself, then I could have a seizure and someone would film it and another person would rob me (and then you wonder why I have an anxiety disorder). I got my first bus by myself when I was 19 and for something so mundane to most people, it was like a little adventure to me. My mum didn’t approve but she complained about having to drive me everywhere too. While its fun to get the bus into town every now and then though, it becomes a bigger issue when travelling is a daily requirement and you aren’t able/allowed to drive yourself.

Free public transport doesn’t always include those with epilepsy, depending on which country you live in. What do you do when an employer asks if you can drive? What do you do if you have committments to go to and no one is around to drive or come with you? Or you need to explain why you’re going out, every single time, because someone else has to decide whether its worth the risk. Sunny roadtrips? Want to be a pilot? That last one isn’t a joke, by the way! I used to get a coach/private bus to college and if it was sunny, I’d pull the curtain over, wear my sunglasses and try to nonchalantly cover one eye to help. You can’t really get a curtain while driving your own car though and driving one-handed is not cool, its irresponsible.

3. Staying up all night talking with someone you love isn’t as romantic as we’d like it to be. All-nighters, i.e. lack of sleep, are a huge trigger for many epileptics. I wasn’t allowed to go to sleepovers with friends as a kid until I was 13, and at that sleepover I ended up having a seizure in the middle of the night after waking up to use the bathroom. Not to flex, but I had a seizure on the toilet. Where’s the weirdest place anyone else has had a seizure?. As a result of that, I was put back on medication after being told I was growing out of my seizures and had been med-free for one whole year. I’d love to stay up with a loved one and spend the night talking or watching movies, but I think a seizure would be more of a killjoy than going to bed early.

3. Unless you’re the paparazzi, camera flashes won’t give photosensitive epileptics seizures. Its a small gesture and I do appreciate it, but don’t worry - one small flash from a camera will not send my brain into override. Just don’t be taking photos from 5 different phones at the same time for more than one pic. Standing and waiting for people to take a photo all at the same time is awkward already because you don’t know who to look at, what to do with your hands, if you should change pose, smile or not, etc. Just take one flash photo and be done, or don’t use the flash at all if you don’t need to. Ring lights are a common thing now, by the way and I love them? Bye-bye camera flash!

I don’t blame anyone for having these types of concerns though. The only time you’re probably warned about flashing lights is when you’re about to watch a news report or awards show where there will be paparazzi and performances will be aired. Concerts are another thing that can be risky depending on the genre, size of the venue, whether its indoors or outdoors (if you’re like me and enjoy EDM music, you’ll have a very low chance of actually attending or watching anything live fdkslbjfdhb). Those things we avoid. But you taking a photo with a once-off flash will be okay, don’t worry. Seizures aren’t triggered by a single flash, but rather multiple flashes in a short period of time. They’re called Hertz and that shit hertz when its between 3-30 flashes per second. Also, fuck strobes, the Incredibles 2, Into The Spiderverse and any other movie that uses these for unnecessary effect.

4. Not everyone is diagnosed with epilepsy in their childhood and though some might grow out of it as they get older, not everyone will. I thought I had been growing out of it on two occasions (see point 3 again and point 9). Some people only get diagnosed with epilepsy later into their life. If you’re diagnosed while young, its easier to adjust your life because you’re growing up with it as your norm and its something you’ve just learned to live with. But for some people, they suddenly have to change their entire routine that they’ve established since they became an adult. Be sympathetic to those with epilepsy in their adult years, especially those who only got a diagnosis. Its not just a disability for children.

5. There are different types of seizures and one that’s commonly misunderstood is the partial seizure. These types of seizures have been mistaken for people being drunk or high (i.e. slurred speech, difficulty standing up or walking in a straight line, etc.), which has led them to getting kicked out of venues for something they have no control over. Swimming pools seem to be a common place for these bans, as well as gyms. Sometimes, these people are still somewhat aware they are having a seizure but cannot control them, which is really scary to think about. I don’t have them myself but I cannot imagine how frustrating they must be to not be taken seriously and instead as someone being high or intoxicated and then being punished for that. Alcohol is usually avoided as it can trigger seizures but when these seizures happen at social events, people can get the wrong idea. If you know someone who has these types of seizures, keep an eye on them if you’re out together. We’re usually only allowed one pint and hardly anyone gets that drunk after just one, so be aware that its likely they aren’t actually hammered but having a seizure instead.

6. Nobody likes being overworked but school, college, jobs and sport can very hard on us. Unless you’ve had a seizure, your teacher or boss probably won’t extend a deadline for you. The latter might even fire you. Chronic fatigue isn’t taken seriously. School is one big memory test in most countries, but for those with aura seizures, their ‘spacing out’ can affect how information they are actually taking in. Side-effects of meds can also make concentration and memory tough, and I hate how forgetful I can be because then I feel like I’m unreliable even though I push myself to give 110% anyway. Some activities like sports and physical education can be more draining than they would be for the average person, and sometimes I’d have to sit out during these activities because I felt an aura coming on after overexerting myself. I wish I could sit out having multiple assignments and group projects due in the same week, but college doesn’t work that way. I wish I could tell employers that I might not have that presentation done by the end of the day, but that wouldn’t go down too good either.

If you know someone who takes longer to complete tasks that might seem simple to you, ask yourself if you’ve ever considered they might have epilepsy or another chronic illness or disability. Don’t assume they’re lazy if they need to take an extra day or two to complete their final essay or have to stop their beep test earlier than the rest of the class. I didn’t know a good average for the beep test was 8-9, because no one ever told me. I pushed myself to 16 because I was scared people would think I was lazy and that I was dropping out to be with the other girls who agreed beforehand. I then ended up having an aura that almost slipped into a full seizure. I also almost had a seizure an hour before my religion exam in my Junior Cert at school. My mum even insisted I stay home and miss my State exam because of it. I still went though, took a bathroom break because I had another aura, and finished with an ‘A’ but had it been a different day, I might not have been so lucky. Its about knowing yourself and your limits, but we aren’t always informed that they should exist and then you end up doing stupid things like me that could hurt you. Likewise, its important to be understanding that not everyone can work at the same pace as you. It doesn’t make the quality of our work any less even if we need more time or energy to do it.

7. Side-effects aren’t always in the short-term. My own meds are advised to not be taken long-term as they weaken my bones over time. I’m 21 now and I’ve been on meds since I was 8. I wanted to reduce my dosage and eventually become med-free last year but the neurologist told me I still had brain activity and needed to stick with them. In fact, they almost ended up prescribing me more even after I had told them I was five years seizure-free. Why? See point 9. I’m lucky though because I’ve only been on one type of med. Some people can take years to find what works and their neurologists will prescribe them all sorts and leave them with awful side effects. Only last year I was chatting with a woman whose meds had caused sudden depression and fits of anger in her after she had been diagnosed and given her prescriptions. She eventually got brain surgery instead.

8. If you have a uterus and/or want to have children, do your research and a LOT of it. Birth control is usually a tough decision to make and often times, it can feel like you have no choice. Its so important to check with multiple neurologists and doctors which form of birth control is the best for you with your medication, because even the slightest new introduction to your meds box can have unpleasant side-effects. With the current medication I’m on, I can’t take the pill unless I want to increase my current dosage of meds as the pairing cancel each other and make me more vulnerable to seizures and other side-effects. I’m not pregnant and yet I have to take daily folic acid supplements because my meds cancel that out too. Every month or two, I will faint or almost faint on the first day of my period and I’m more vulnerable to having a seizure during that time. If I ever want to give birth, my children can possibly inherit my condition or be stuck taking care of me when I should be caring for them. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.

This is not to say that people with epilepsy can’t have fulfilling sex lives or raise families. But we just do it at a greater risk that even some neurologists aren’t aware of. I had to tell my neurologist last year why I didn’t want to go on the pill because HE didn’t know it interacted negatively with my meds. I’ve known women who were prescribed the pill or meds BY A PROFESSIONAL that interacted negatively with each other and gave them seizures as a result. It takes ‘find the right method for you’ to a whole new level. If your partner has epilepsy, its so important to discuss birth control and take their condition into consideration. I hear men telling their girlfriends to go on the pill so that they don’t have to use a condom, which is really selfish for a start and also disregards other forms of birth control. Do your research but let them and their own trusted neurologist decide which form is best. You should still be using a condom to protect yourselves anyway! And if you and your epileptic partner decide you would like to have children, do the same process and make sure that they are in a safe position to do so.

9. *TW: DEATH* Threatening (even ‘jokingly’) to trigger a seizure in someone is playing with that person’s life. SUDEP (Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy) affects roughly 1 in 1000 people each year. Even if that person doesn’t die after their seizure, you may have just broken a record they set for days, months or YEARS without a seizure. You just revoked their driving license and they weren’t even behind a wheel. You just prescribed them new doses of medication without any years of medical school.

Growing up, I had countless incidences where classmates would joke about making me have a seizure. If the teacher left the room for anything, the first thing they would do is run up to the lightswitch and fuck around with it. In secondary school, I stopped using the bathroom at lunch because one of the girls thought it was funny to deliberately flick the lights on and off anytime I was inside. She would snicker and call out to me while I was in the stall, asking if it could make me have a seizure. Even after saying yes, she continued to do it. If I did end up having a seizure in that bathroom, god knows what could have happened. I had a seizure in a bathroom before and was lucky I only hurt my jaw as my head slammed against the wall. Others aren’t so lucky. Injuries from seizures can be brutal, just like OP said. Yeah, you might not kill them by triggering a seizure, but what injuries do they have to deal with after?

Imagine playing a game for years and you spent ages collecting all the items, defeating every boss and proudly showing off the trophies you won. Now imagine someone suddenly pulls the cord as you’re playing; your game freezes, the screen shuts to black and when you try to frantically start it up again and see where you had remembered to last save, it says your data is corrupted and deletes everything without your permission. It doesn’t matter where or when you saved. You have to start your progress all over again. You can try memorise the strategies from before but the game switches things up and suddenly you’re hit with a difficulty spike out of nowhere. The person who joked around and pulled the plug doesn’t have to do anything. And if they wanted to, they could do the same thing again and again. Don’t be that person. Be their Player 2 and help them. If they need to go into a dungeon but they’re scared to be alone, offer to cover their back. If their health is low, find them a safe spot and let them heal. The same goes for appointments and seizures. Its not a multiplayer game by default and while they can power through solo, that doesn’t mean they don’t need help if they’re ever stuck.

10. To end on a more positive note, there are lots of successful people out who have/had epilepsy and you probably never even knew. Cameron Boyce’s passing brought attention to SUDEP and celebrities with epilepsy but did you also know about these people and their own cases and seizures?

Prince

Elton John

Lewis Carroll

Danny Glover

Lil Wayne

Neil Young

Hugo Weaving

Charles Dickens

Julius Caesar

Vincent Van Gogh

Theodore Roosevelt

Adam Horovitz

Susan Boyle

Rick Harrison (the Pawn Stars guy!)

And some who are not confirmed (due to medical practices of the time) but are suggested as a result of numerous seizures:

Leonardo da Vinci

Michelangelo

Edgar Allen Poe

Agatha Christie

Socrates

Napoleon Bonaparte

Aristotle

Alexander the Great

Epileptics are humans, normal people just like you. And like you, they’re capable of great things too. If you think about making a crude comment to someone with epilepsy, think about these people and ask yourself if you would say the same things to them. 

If you read all of this, comment with a ⭐️ and please reblog to spread awareness. Whenever we talk about epilepsy, we start and stop the conversation at seizures. Its good to bring awareness to the other things too because its something that affects every part of our lives. Its an invisible disability but that doesn’t mean we are hidden from the disability community and discussion!

[cubanmalefootlover]

In the line of duty

How is it possible a heroic spirit inside a super ticklish body? An unflagging, tenacious soldier could have the answer…

 Corp. of the USMC Dustin Coleman looked completely different when he was off-duty and wearing his normal clothes. He’s like any average 21 years old and happy boy, trendy, outgoing, always smiling, very chatty and playful. But today he’s dressed in camouflage uniform, cap and boots because he’s been sent to this odd country at the other side of the world, too far from home. He missed his parents, friends, parties… However, he had to give his best in this mission, defrauding was not an option.

Following strict orders, Dustin and a dozen of highly trained men arrived at the city to eliminate the last remnant of terrorists in this zone, although they were ambushed and brutally attacked. After several days of bloody skirmish and chaos, Dustin and four others survivors discovered that those terrorists were actually government collaborators disguised as terrorists. A week later, Dustin opened his eyes in a supposedly hospital government, but there’s no trace of any member of his squad. Very concerned and having confirmed his suspicions of a plot, he managed to take a jeep and ran away. He had to report to his superiors about a few interesting things.

Dustin was driving through this unwelcoming land, winding around the rough path with care. The enemy had shown to be well-prepared and how perfidious they could be with foreign troops. Tired, more than twenty hours without sleeping, paranoid, thirsty and hungry, Corp. Dustin Coleman had no time to think in his own misery. Every mission was loaded with real danger and any day could be the last, but he didn’t fear for his own life.

Dustin was scanning all around with eagle eye. He was focused in the road when a twinkle made him look at the right side of the horizon. In the direction of the flicker he saw a house still standing among a few ruins of small buildings, very common in this zone of the country where remains of bombarded towns appeared in sight. Out of the blue, strange noises started coming from the jeep's engine.

-What the fuck’s going on?

He tried to ignore it and kept driving as fast as he could but as he got the level of the wrecked houses, it stalled completely.

-Great, now I'm screwed! –he grunted.

The young man jumped out of the jeep to check the engine. While he was busy in his task, he saw a large cloud of sand coming to him.

-Shit! Is this real? This isn’t happening. No, no, noo… this isn’t happenin’!

He stared at the house about five hundred of meter from him. It’s dark from soot and looked gloomy. It must be uninhabited. His soldier instinct warned him not to go, but stay in the road under the sandstorm wasn’t an option. Not a safe place to get sheltered except that wrecked house… “Damn it!” He swallowed hard and took his M16, a knife and ran toward the house.  

“Looks like nobody’s been here for a while”. He stepped forward as if he were in the battle field.

He looked at the door hesitantly. Then he pushed it and saw a family having lunch. The members of the family stopped eating and stared at the soldier in shock. Dustin aimed his M16 over them. All they stared intently till an older woman said something in their language and a twenty-something girl, probably her granddaughter, translated with anguished voice:

-Don’t hurt us, please…

Dustin stepped inside watching all around.

-We don’t have arms or anything… -spluttered the young woman.  

Dustin looked at her better; she had a small body and pretty face. When he was sure there wasn’t anyone more and no danger, he relaxed just a bit.

-Are you the only one who speaks English? –he asked her. She nodded with fear. The view of this American soldier, with those piercing eyes, aiming his powerful rifle to them got her goosebumps. He was young but looked very dominant and obviously capable to kill them all in a jiffy.  

They looked accustomed to this kind of presence and seemed harmless. Their haggard bodies and sadden faces betrayed too little strength to fight or even escape. This people had nothing to offer him except water and shelter until the sandstorm finish. He made a gesture to they continue their poor lunch. They ate two more bites and the women ran to the kitchen. Dustin followed all them the whole time. The women came back with a bunch of saucepans which placed diligently on the tattered table.

-This is for you, sir… -said the same small, pretty-faced young lady.  

-No, thanks… -he reluctantly mumbled, feeling really grateful because this people offered him their better food.  

The men had closed the windows as better as they could and now were blocking up remaining holes. It worked because the sand kept outside. The food smell filled the place; everyone was satiated except the starving soldier. Dustin was looking at the banquet with a stoic face. Poor boy, his stomach was rumbling like hell; he could eat a horse! There was no hope in the middle of the desert, above all under a sandstorm. He finally sat in a chair and started devouring ravenously: meat, vegetables, bread; local cuisine, but succulent. The members of the family stayed all together to the soldier could watch them.  

When he finished he waited in a corner close the main door. The monotone sound coming from the sandstorm acted as relaxant; he began to feel less tensed and chatted with the pretty-faced girl, the only one who spoke English. She told him her family was thanked that his troops had come to her country to help them against the terrorists. He told her everything was confused and what had happened to his squad with very little details. She told him that sometimes things are not what they seem. He sensed her last words slightly menacing, but he thought it was just his paranoid subconscious.

As he usually did when he met a cute girl whom he wouldn’t have any later relation, Dustin didn’t worry about asking her name, only things in common. She liked sports, parties and hang out with friends like him. She was apparently excited about having found her soul mate and didn’t take her big green eyes off his tall, wiry build encased in his camouflage uniform that made him look authoritative and dominant as he behaved.  

He didn’t even notice when his eyes began to close during the talk… As soon as the girl heard his snoring, every member of the family helped to carry him to a back room.

Dustin woke up with a startle. Blinking repeatedly his eyes, he noted that he was in a bedroom, probably in the same wrecked house. He tried to sit up but his wrists and ankles were strapped with thick ropes to the legs of the bed forming a big X on the mattress. The sunlight coming from the windows made him see two things: the sandstorm was over and the sunbeam angle indicated it’s been three-four hours since the jeep had stalled in the road. Next he distinguished the nine silhouettes of the family members coming out of the semidarkness. The older man said something in their language. The young cute woman approached to the bed:

-He says that this was your last food… Now you will stay here until you die.

-What?!! That’s crazy! –Dustin yelled. He struggled with all his might to no avail.

-Why did you do this to me??!!!! Are you all crazy??!!! FFUUUCK!!!

The ropes were strong enough and had been knotted properly to hold his sinewy, well-trained body in place for long time.  

-You can’t do this to me! –he roared-, I'm here to save you from the terrorists! I'm your friend! Hey you… girl… you have to help me!

The older man kept speaking angrily. Again the young pretty-faced woman deciphered:

-You will stay here until we decide how to finish you off…

Trying to not panic, Dustin managed to convince her to intercede on his behalf. Apparently she told her family exactly what he asked her to say, but they remained deaf to his arguments. The adults of the family went out of the room to talk far from the yells of the prisoner. Dustin continued struggling and kicking against his bonds; he vociferated tons of threats against all them if they don’t let him free immediately and the fate they all would face for hurting an American soldier.  

Two little boys found this situation funny; they started playing each other in a childish fight. The intimidating soldier tied up on bed must seem an amusing situation since they jumped on the bed as well imitating his awkward pose and gestures. One boy accidentally poked his side and he withdrew his torso. Then the other kid, trying to hit his brother, jabbed the other side of the powerless soldier and he jerked uneasily. The boys must have noticed this and began to prod playfully his both sides, making him jump and chuckle.

-Hehe-hey kids hohoho don’t do that… -He tried to look as angry as he really was, but his lips got distorted in smiles as he was touched.

The boys giggled and spoke in their language which turned Dustin more annoyed. The young woman, who was watching the whole scene, grinned mischievously and called the elder man. They talked and sniggered while watched from time to time to the captive in bed squirming helplessly.

-You’ll know ‘bout me as soon as I get out’f this, assholes!! –yelled Dustin.

All them surrounded the bed and stayed looking at him with empty eyes. It was eerie even for a highly trained man. There was something very strange in the eyes of that people that made him fear the worst. His hairs stood on end and a chill went down his spine.

-YOU ALL WILL PAY FOR MY DEAD! –he said with extreme seriousness. But all his words sounded worthless to them.

The elder man took a pair of scissors while another two men brought out knifes.

-What’re you gonna do to me??!! Hey! HEYYY!!! GET AWAY FROM MEEEEEE!!

Dustin tried to resist, but he couldn’t stop those scissors and knifes carefully cut away the strong camouflage fabric of his shirt and the undershirt until leaving Corp. Dustin Coleman’s slim torso naked. He went blush seeing himself in that situation. He was now so painfully vulnerable, just like a man like him NEVER should be. Dustin prepared himself to be slashed, burned, his nails or eyes pulled out, brutally beaten or who knows what kind of method of torture these people would conceive for him. This is war and this was his fate; he had to face it as a hero. He closed his eyes and waited when he felt someone sitting at his both sides. He opened his eyes and saw the elder man and probably his older son. They were watching intently his fit torso and stopped their devious gaze in his hairy underarms. After too much and distressing hours, unable to change his uniform and driving under the middle-east sun, his armpits were reeking with sweat. Dustin didn’t understand why, but soon he did when they brought their wiggly fingers to them. He shook his head a second before feeling those fingers landing in his skin. His body reacted before his mind could realize what was happening.

-Woowoohohono no no… C'hamon, men... C'mon! Hey-haha! Wait a fahackin minute..! Hahahohohooo-hehehehe… that tickles-that tickles… no… don’t!!

The men muttered something in their language. Dustin was now more infuriated than ever, but all he could do was squirm as much as he could to avoid the contact which was pretty difficult in his X-shape pose.

The elder man let his fingers pressure increase just enough to make Dustin jerk and twist with all his strength. He started to giggle harder.

-HAHAHAHAHA… C'mon men… No… no-no-no-NO HAHAHAHA!! Oh my Gad that tickles too much! Oh god OOHHOHOHOHOHOHO GOD NO HAHAHA!!

-They are not sure if this tickles you… -said the pretty-faced young woman.

-Of cohohorsse yehehessss!!! I'M FAHAHAHACKIN TICKLISH!!! Tehehell thehem stop hohohehesshh PLEEEEEHEHESSS! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

The elder man and his son slid their restless fingers down the prisoner’s sides and devoted to rub and knead them along the entire length of this very reactive flesh. Also fingering the soldier’s muscular biceps was too nerve-racking to him. Dustin broke into a deep belly laugh:

-AAHAHWW-NOOOOO...AGHHH-HAHAHAHAHA NOOO MEN… I CAN'T TAKE! I CAN’T TAKE IT… PLEASE DON’T DO THAHAHAT TO ME NO… NOHOHOHONO NOT LIKE THAT NOHOHONO NONOHOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! AWWWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAP!!! I'M TOO TICKLISH! YOU SHOULD TORTURE ME IN OTHER WAY! NOT LIKE THIS! OHOHOHOHOHOSSHHIIT!!!!

One thing Dustin was always trying to hide about himself was the fact that he was explosively ticklish. Actually, he was the type of guy who loved and hated being tickled, but in this situation, he would have preferred to be tortured in other way. This people believed to have found out the perfect punishment for him. The look of panic on his face and his violent thrashing whenever the fingers touched his body was a spectacle worthy of being watched. He followed every move his captors made and did his best to jump out of reach, but all were fruitless efforts.  

-HAHAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! HELL NO… DON’T… HEHEHAHAHAHAHAAAWW!!!! NOOUHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA I CANT STAND THIS I CAAHAHAHAHNNTT!!! FUCK!! CHOOSE ANOTHER WAY TO KILL ME AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!! YOU MOTHERFAHAHAHACKERSSEEHEHEHEHAHAHAAAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!

In a matter of minutes, Dustin was reduced to a hysterical mess. With his eyes filled with tears and sweating buckets, his skin glistened as if he’d just come from a hard training under the rain. He did a silly dance on the mattress trying his best to keep his willpower. Such scene looked borrowed from a grotesque movie: a helpless man was ravaged with tickling and he could do NOTHING to stop it.

Then one of the women cried. Everyone stared at him as if he were some kind of monster: his camouflage trousers had become a huge tent around his crotch. He peered down at the spot they were looking.  

-Oh shit… -he panted-. Tickling does that to me… Now you’d let me go?

All the members of the family retreated from the bed. Dustin sighed with relief thinking that the torture would stop once and for all. Perhaps they would be willing to free him and then disappear because he would take his revenge for having humiliated him so much.

The elder man threw some pieces of the torn shirt over his bulging trouser and again drew back, plotting another way to destroy the soldier, a more traditional, bloody way for sure. Dustin thought these will be his last minutes on earth. The children somehow realized there was something wrong with the upper body tickling, though they didn’t know what. Then they focused their eyes on the huge combat boots protruding from the bed and spoke to the adults. The elder man was reluctant, but after a persuasive talk he seemed to agree. Indeed, there’s another place which is as sensitive as the upper body and it’s located very far from the pudenda.  

Absorbed in his pray, Dustin hadn’t seen any of this until the sound of some stools dragged to the end of the bed made him stare over there. Two guys sat close the corners of the bed and started unfastening the strong laces of his desert boots. 

-No, no, no! Don't you dare YOU FUCKERS! -Dustin kicked against the ropes.

The knots of his Magnum men’s Elite Spider boots were taking too much time to loosen, so the captors brought their knives and shredded the laces.

-No nonono hold on! HEY… DON’T! DON’T TAKE MY DAMN BOOTS OFF!

They ignored him; their hands kept busily cutting the laces. As the soldier felt his boots being taken off, he knew he was doomed.

-We have tickled you too close of your private parts. This time we will tickle you far from your genitals –sentenced the pretty-faced girl as Dustin shook his head in total shock.

Dustin wore desert boot socks, slightly damp from sweat but they had no clue of smell. He swallowed hard and closed tight his eyes. The wicked men wiggled their fingers over the socked soles and scribbled them up and down the length of both feet. Dustin was in real trouble now, knowing perfectly that his feet were his most ticklish spot. He fought to repress his giggles and made futile attempts pulling his legs away from the ropes. Patiently, the men were testing every corner of these size 11 feet covered with suitable military socks. Dustin was responsive as if his feet were bare. They explored the heels, the arches, the instep, the ball of the foot, under the toes, in between the toes as much as the thick socks allow, on top of the toes and even the ankles. The room filled with boisterous laughter; spasmodic gusts of desperation poured from the soldier’s lungs in form of loud guffaws. Corp. Dustin Coleman got lost in TICKLE HELL. Incapable to keep his mind, he lost all control of himself and laughed unrestrainedly like never before in his life. Others member of the family took turns to have their own fun.

After about 10 minutes, they noticed the sheets around the victim’s body were bathed in his sweat. He was breathless, but was determined to endure this. Somehow he understood that his life depended on his resilience. The women threw more clothes over his private area since they realized that the tent in his camouflage trouser had grown even more, if it could be possible. “What size was the male organ of this American soldier?”, they asked with surprise.

Indeed, his throbbing cock was pumping hard against the strong fabric and leaking precum below his shorts. The tickling on his feet caused him stronger arousal, but since the fingers didn’t touch directly the skin because of the thick socks, he was still quite far from the climax; hence, if they kept tickling him through the socks the growing and non-consummated orgasm could shatter his strength. Right now Dustin wanted to cum more than else in the world. Even the fact of being freed and sent home wouldn’t make him feel better if his tormentors didn’t let him cum first.

Having caused such agony just through his thick military socks, some members of the family wondered how much they could harm him if they removed his last protection and did their evil work directly on his bare soles. The elder man was loath to uncover the prisoner’s feet, however he accepted. They pulled the soldier’s socks, exposing inch after inch of his feet and without more ado, they resumed the previous torture.

-OH MY GAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA…!!!!!!!!

Corp. Dustin Coleman went completely insane with tickling. The poor marine howled, ranted and shrieked as his ultra-ticklish soles were scratched with fingernails until he finally climaxed. It was the most thrilling orgasm he had ever had; he kept coming and coming in a nonstop orgasm until his sexual energy was totally spent and he collapsed from exhaustion.  

When Dustin regained conscious, he saw again the same room and knew it wasn’t a nightmare as he hoped. The sunbeam revealed that it was morning, so he had been sleeping 12 hours or more. Surprisingly, he wasn’t tied up in spread eagle, but he had only a manacle around his neck attached to the bed by a chain, so he sat up and stretched his aching body. He had still his camouflage trousers on and could feel the sticky mess in his shorts, but was too ashamed about stripping off his last clothe and stay nude in this crazy place filled with psychos. There was a tray with meal in the bed that he devoured angrily. At least these people weren’t going to starve him to death.

After noon, several persons came in the bedroom. They weren’t the family of the previous day. Dustin cried who were them. These new people said something Dustin didn’t understand. They forced him spread eagle again, took off his trousers and shorts and fastened his wrists and ankles as well, then they vented their anger on his body in the same odd way. In a matter of minutes, Dustin was in a state of ticklish dementia; his Adam nipple vibrated frenziedly and he got beetroot in a forced smile-grimace as they tickled and tickled the fuck out of him. Every of them wiggled their fingers all over his body, from his responsive neck to his super ticklish soles, including his private parts, so he reached orgasm soon and, shockingly, after he climaxed, they continued tickling him knowing that after the orgasm the ticklishness should peak.

Next day Dustin woke up with the neck manacle and the meal. Today he was stark naked. His green shorts, his uniform, cap, boots and socks were scattered on the floor. He was asking himself tons of things about his recent days when the door opened and another bunch of people entered in the room, these were different from the previous. Dustin was astonished! “All the fucking people of this country are coming here to tickle me?”, he thought in utter disbelief. “This isn’t happening!”  

Once again, Dustin’s hysteric laughter thundered against the walls for several hours. It was terrifying how two people grabbed his ankles within a leg-lock and held back his toes with one hand while used the other to scratch his exposed soles with no mercy. As well other people scribble their fingers on his armpits, down his sides, his ribs, nipples, abs, navel, inner thigh and calves. Corp. Dustin Coleman had been gifted with an average cock, about 6-7 inches long ―he used to measure it and compare with others guys― and medium balls. His orgasms were intense, at least that’s what he had experience so far. Nonetheless, in this bizarre situation, under the rapturous effects of the tickling, his cock had reached 13 inches long and his balls looked like goose eggs! He was beyond wonder, but he got used to it very quickly, after all some BIG genitals had been always his great dream! Perhaps, he thought, the penis and testicles grow when they’re properly stimulated, above all if the cock is also engulfed in a greedy mouth that gave him the blowjob of his life, which it was repeated many times all the while he was tickled. To make things better, he felt also a myriad of tongues licking every corner of his body. Needless to say he came countless times and after every climax he was, as expected, more and more responsive, so no one in world could imagine how he was feeling right now. He was miles away from Hell or Paradise, in a sort of limbo. He was completely out of himself in an endless cycle of agony and ecstasy, but what these people ignored is that Corp. Dustin Coleman had an exceptional stamina, so he confronted his fate with all his strength and good mood…

  Fourteen weeks after that day when Dustin’s jeep got stalled in the vicinity of those wrecked buildings, one squad of the company *** stomped in the deserted house. They had followed some traces that leaded them to finish the conspiracy and defeat all the terrorists in the area. One of those traces guided them where the jeep was, the rest was history… As they walked within the gloomy house, a half open door attracted their eyes. They pushed it and found a tall, wiry figure, it was a man and they recognized him quickly. Corp. Dustin Coleman was sleeping on the bed and buck naked as if he were in home. His hair had grown to his shoulders and was bearded. A look of despair twisted his nice looking face as soon as he saw his compatriots. He apparently had forgotten his English and was speaking the language of the country. In the infirmary he managed to claim that he had been tickled to no end every day by many people, but he was told again and again that he wasn’t tied up and that nobody lived in that house two years ago since the war started.

Dustin was sent back to United Stated and put in an asylum for a month, until he gave signs of recovery. He stopped talking about being tickled and behaved normally. His memories about that place looked a dream. Everyone assured him that they didn’t explain who had kidnapped him there since it was a ghost town, all the people had died during a bombardment a year ago. His kidnappers surely were terrorists.

  One year later, Dustin Coleman took a fly to Middle East. The town was still deserted despite the plan to rebuilding. Our veteran soldier rented a car and drove toward the gloomy house; he pushed the door as if he came home. The same family was inside looking at him without surprise. He was wearing his normal clothes, those that made him look like any 22 years old boy, cool, happy, uninhibited and friendly. He smiled and waved his hand, after all they knew him and he knew all them.

-Hey, guys –said Dustin in their language- this time I came to stay…

  The end

[natsspammityspamspamham]

Some Anime I Just Finished

Before I start with this stuff, I also finished Nyan Koi, but honestly, don’t watch it. There are no points of this show that I’d recommend. I watched it on a whim. I regret it. It wasn’t bad enough to really make me sit and go have an crisis about what I watched and why I like anime and why I was born, but let’s just say, I should stop watching anime because there are some seiyuu I know in it. But hey, if generic harem ecchi stuff is your thing, there’s something.

Ballroom e Youkoso

That was a lot of hype for a mediocre show. Let’s just say... it was alright and standard with a unique concept that got everyone excited. It took a really unique concept for a sports anime, but the cast wasn’t all that likeable or memorable. The story was generic sports anime stuff, but it was still pretty good. The art was really good. I don’t get the criticism that their necks were too long. We’re watching anime where the waists are tiny, the eyes are huge, and the boobs take up over half the body. Get a grip.

Shingeki no Bahamut: Genesis and Shingeki no Bahamut: Virgin Soul

This anime is a clusterfuck (and so is whatever I’m writing about it because I have a donkey brain right now). It made me laugh at times when it wasn’t supposed to, but I was entertained. I think I was searching for something to fill that SKET Dance-shaped hole, and this... was not it. This was fast-forwarded on my watch list because of the seiyuu, but I was going to watch it some time in the future anyway. Genesis (what I would count as the first season) and Virgin Soul (what I would count as the second) are completely different. I’ve heard of people who watched VS independently, and while you can, it makes far less sense if you do it that way. Not saying that you should watch this anime because it’s really... something else. If you know what you’re getting into, you’ll have a good time. Otherwise, you will not. I also watched this anime because I heard it was based off a card game and went, “YU-GI-OH? AS IF THEY CAN MAKE AN ANIME OUT OF A CARD GAME!” And in that respect, they did impress me. I was judging this series as an anime and not as a “oh, I made this on a dare.” I’m not familiar with the source material. 

Overall: 6.5/10 (Both Seasons)

(SPOILERS AHEAD - but who’s going to commit to 36 episodes? …Besides this idiot right here, aka me)

The characters here are honestly nothing that people haven’t seen before. Uh, this anime has an afro bandit, a knight with a mullet, a zombie, and some white-haired demon that everyone in Tumblr thirsts for because he looks like he’s straight out of that demon dating sim. You’ve probably seen these types of characters before. Multiple times. Rumour has it that you can find a cast of this caliber at your local Walmart or gas station. Season one introduced me to a small cast of characters, so by the end, I was like, “Alright, this is fine. If you give me another season, I can totally get behind these Mary/Murray Sue’s. Maybe.” I look up the cast list for VS and went, “Why are all of them either labelled as supporting or are gone?” VS brings out a whole slew of new characters you know nothing about.  

We had to give up this character? Seriously? Season two at what cost?

VS′s villain’s motives made no sense. His mom was killed by the monster, so he wants to bring forth the monster to defeat it even though it’s literally the doomsday bringer... alright. He even sacrificed his eye and went, “I can still do this. I can end that monster.” Meanwhile, he’s killing and alienating people who would’ve been able to help him. This is even worse considering that VS had 24 episodes to get me into whatever the heck this king was on about. Actually, I can only remember one character that was voiced by Yuuichirou Umehara that made remotely any sense, and this is out of at least 5 characters. Force that character with the main girl in that Romeo and Juliet kind of stuff, and you’ve got a new cast. All your favourite characters from season one are sidelined. You were main character last season? Pssh, that’s water under the bridge. Nobody cares that you saved the world once, it’s up to some kid who can turn into a dragon when she sees a hot guy. I wish I was making this shit up. She really fell for a guy who is ready to kill her. We’ve got more side characters no one knows about. Also, they just had to kill off a character from the first season for funsies and no other reason. They killed him in such a stupid way, and if that wasn’t enough, they brought him back as an even more hideous zombie. I didn’t even like his original design, but even I know they did him dirty. I feel like they should’ve focused on the main cast with maybe some additional characters, but when you add everything at once, nothing is going to work out. This show also really screwed up the ending in a way that I don’t know how. They closed loose ends, but were there any reasons for this buildup? No. Did I enjoy the ending? No. Would I recommend this to my friends? No.

The visuals try to save this anime, but it cut some corners to get here. Alas, MAPPA is MAPPA, so some of that fight choreography was great (but most of the “hype” only came from season one for me). The sound was alright. Good voice acting. It was even great at times. Kenshou Ono played a bastardly idiot in season two which had me really liking his performance because of how much I hated that character. Hiroyuki Yoshino plays another guy like that. Sumire Morohoshi played a 17-year-old in season two, and she was practically 17 when this was produced, so it’s one of the few times that people actually cast someone who’s the same age as the character. I haven’t actually heard Risa Shimizu in main role before, but she did not disappoint. I was disappointed when she didn’t come back for season two. I haven’t seen Gou Inoue play a main character in an anime I watched either. He’s actually pretty good. Maaya Sakamoto and Miyuki Sawashiro appeared as well. Miyuki Sawashiro played a pivotal character actually. I happened to like her character too. Megumi Han sounded badass in this anime too. 

(She looks like Robin from Fire Emblem, the plot is like FE Awakening, and she had so much more to do in the series than what she did in season one. The series would’ve been more interesting if they brought her back. In fact, the whole season season could go under some form of an edit.)

Characters from your local secondhand “lightly used” vegetable sales bin with a story fried at that old McDonalds with the semi-rancid oil thrown together with some chips that you left open the night before that were supposed to be “character development”. It’s passable. Edible. Scrap that together, but now throw out whatever good things you had in there. Throw in that fuzzy tomato that isn’t even red anymore, shady stuff found behind the fridge, and some ranch, and voila, you’ve got yourself this subpar anime. It’s plated nicely with nice visuals and some form of a facade that this anime is going well, and if you’re into guilty pleasure anime like that, there you go. I still enjoyed myself despite all that I said, but I have no intentions of recommending this. It was also really hard to access in my country too. 

[bucket-girl]

Chapter 2-1 Personal Info logs

In chapter 2, it’s possible to buy the personal info of Nao, Reko, Gin and Q-Taro with tokens, but it’s easy to miss. Reloading saves and redoing minigames is a hassle so I wrote them down for convenience. Most of them are in the form of conversing with AIs, I’ve put Sara’s lines in italics. Text under cut.

Gin > History ...History? What should I talk about, woof? "Hm... Just an introduction would make me happy." Gin Ibushi from Heiwa Elementary Class 6-3! I'm 12 years old, meow! I take care of the animals, meow!! "Is school fun for you?" Hmm... It's not that fun 'cause of some guys I don't like, meow. But it's fun to meet friends, woof! We play games together, meooow! "Do you wear that outfit to school, too?" Nah, because people get mad. It's only when I'm at home, woof! ...It's kinda easier to talk when I wear this, meow. But I can't wear it to school, so I get uneasy, woof. So people at school tell me I'm obedient, woof! But that's wrong... meow... My aspirations are to live with animals all the time, meow! "Heehee... What kinds of animals?" I'm way into gators right now, meow! They're cute, wooooof!

> Physical Info I'm 138 centimeters and 35.5 kilograms, meow! That's 4 foot 6 inches and 78 pounds, woof! And I grew 2 centimeters at my last checkup, meow! "Your growth spurt and voice change must be coming up soon." Obviously, meow! I'm gonna be bigger than you, big sis Sara! "Ahaha, I'm sure you'll look really cool. I've got high hopes for you." Yeah! I'll sweep you off your feet, meow! Be grateful, woof! "Okay, let's make it a promise." Got it, meow! A promise for when I outgrow you, woof!

> Relatives My family's a double-income household, meow! I don't have siblings, so... It's lonely when I'm there by myself, meow... My mom's super nice even when she's exhausted, woof. No matter how late she gets home, she always makes dinner... And no matter how much I tell her not to overwork herself... "Do you like your mom?" I love her, meow! I'm worried how she's even busier lately, woof... "What about your dad?" I don't like some things... but I like him, meow. But I super hate when he's a drunkard who causes trouble, meow! It's embarrassing, woof! And he's always getting yelled at by mom and apologizing, so it's like he's got no dignity, woof. I don't wanna be that kind of pathetic grown-up, meooow! ...But I'm sure I won't, meow. 'Cause I'm not blood-related to dad, woof. "Huh...?" I heard he married mom when I was 2, meow! So that genetics stuff won't make me turn out like him, woof! "Is that so...?" Well, it's not like I hate dad, woof. It's true, meow!

> Death Game info I dunno, meow... It's scary, woof... What's dying feel like, meow...? "I... don't know either." I don't wanna never meet mom and dad again, meow... Big sis Sara... are you scared too, meow? "...Yeah, I am." "...Really scared..." .......... I'll definitely protect you, meow! Come see me anytime, woof! "Heehee... Thanks..."

> What he holds dear What I hold dear...? That's hard, meowww. Hm... It's gotta be mom and dad, meow! I'd be sad if they went away, woof! Ah! And the Mew-chan cushion I'm always with! They're super precious to me, meow! We're always together, so I forgot, meow! Sorry, Mew-chaaan! Woof... "Mew-chan is family to you too, huh?" That's right, meow! I got seriously mad when dad was gonna throw them away, meow! Unforgivable, woof! Get me a new one?! No way, meow!! You're a dummy, woof! I'm getting furious just remembering, woof! Mom should yell at him again, meowww!

Q-Taro > History I was raised up in an orphanage that's just a mite bit weird. Had people from all sortsa countries. I got a lotta dialects and stuff mixed in me... 'Course, they sent me to compulsory education up 'til high school. Can't thank the place enough. An' now, I'm a pro baseball player. ...Kiddos at the orphanage root for me, too. I wanna hurry up and show 'em... That even guys in situations like ours can get on a mound and have the stadium roarin'... Well, point is, I got no history yet. I'm about to be makin' some radiant records! Better get yer autographs early, Sara!

> Physical Info 6 foot 4 inches! 230 pounds! And lemme tell ya, it's all muscle, not fat! My position's pitcher, but I got confidence in my batting, base-running, and fielding! But my greatest weapon's my head. Gotta be smart to be a first-class athlete. "Is that how it is?" 'Course, I'm reflecting on the time I tore apart those puzzle rings by force, but...

> Relatives .......... "Is it hard to discuss?" Nah... there's just nothing to discuss. 'Cause I've never seen my birth parents' faces. Only place I knew was the orphanage. That's why... the people there were my moms and dads. Doesn't matter our blood relation. But, well... I do get thinkin' sometimes. What kinda people was I born to, and what kinda genetics do I got...? I started baseball jus' for fun, but... I've thought how if I pitch as a first-string pro... maybe my birth parents'll be watchin'. "...Do you want to meet them?" If we could talk and laugh it up, that'd be the best. All at ease, like "I'm havin' a great life"...

> Death Game info Huh, you're doin' this Death Game, right...? Knowin' me, I doubt I got even the slightest notion of dyin'. Hell, to a second-stringer, baseball's a Death Game with my life as a player on the line! But to do some self-analysis... I wonder if maybe I'll try an' win within the rules of the game... In the saga of a sports player, ya tend to forget about breakin' the rules. Maybe somebody like you, young and not knowin' fear, is more suited to findin' a path to survival. "...Is that so..." ...Sorry to make it sound like it ain't my business. I mean look, I'm an AI, y'know?

> What he holds dear Hold dear, huh... The caretakers at the orphanage, the kiddos... Of course, baseball, and... Myself... probably. I ain't gonna sugarcoat it. I don't wanna die, and I don't want the people I like to die. So I don't like to kick people... But if I gotta, I got the resolve. But I hate the kinda asshole who's got that as their first thought! ...Sorry for gettin' all fired up. Shouldn't have said that all cocky-like when you're involved in it... Don't you mind me.

Reko > History Err... I'mma super cool, 23-year-old singer-songwriter... Something like that? I've liked music since I was a kid. Classical, folk, heavy metal... I listened to all of it. Think around grade school, I found myself starting to compose and write lyrics. My instincts moved my body. That was a fun time... People praised me, and my parents were just plain happy... Once they started calling me a gifted kid... Then there started being more noise. Old bastards in the music industry wanting money... My pops craving the limelight... Before I knew it, I was making music that my heart wasn't in. In middle school, I rebelled. I was a rocker! I made tons of songs nobody even wanted! But even then, noise swarmed around me. Man, even my spirit had to give in. From high school on, all the spice was gone... Didn't even have anger... My activity dried up. I had tons of chances to be famous. But I smashed 'em all. I was totally just the industry's problem child. Everybody kept their distance from me. Once I couldn't even gather members, I borrowed Alice to make a band... Hahaha. Then two and a half years ago... He caused that incident... ... Well, at any rate, I am who I am now 'cause of that shitty past. Learn something from that, Sara?

> Physical Info 5 foot 7, 121 pounds. Pretty proud of my reflexes! And I can remember choreography in a snap, so... My memory's bangin'! Well... I'm not great at baseball and stuff... Hell, maybe I'm not great at anything that's got nothing to do with music. "By the way, what are your measurements?" N-No reason to tell you that, right?

> Relatives Family... Well, uh... ...I like my mom. Though she's a little weird. She's affectionate... and I cause her lots of trouble. Yeah, I gotta show my appreciation more. My old man... Well, he's a good guy... But let's say he gives in to temptation. He's not the most true to his convictions. I hated him for the longest time... But he's woken up now, and gone back to his plain and simple personality. After them is... Alice, huh. He's... what should I say? Why'd he do something like that...? A while after he got arrested... I left music Ahh... I just remembered. At the time, I wrote in my diary, which is rare... I wrote that music, the thing I'd poured my soul into all this time... suddenly felt like a cold series of notes... this inorganic thing. I wondered, was this how music sounded to people who didn't care about it...? ......... I always thought I didn't care about my brother, and never listened to him, but... Truth is... Maybe I was a little jealous of my normal brother. And acted that way out of spite. ... ...You shouldn't ever murder somebody...

> Death Game info Why do I gotta go through this shit...? Do we have anything in common...? I haven't got a clue...

> What she holds dear Believe it or not... I think family's important, right? I wanna show appreciation to my parents. But like, right now... The original me is being put through this Death Game, yeah? If she dies, she can't do... anything. So when you think of it like that, what's important's my own life, ain't it? "...What about your instruments?" Instruments...? "When I first met Reko... I heard she treasured her bongos." Bongos...? Well, sure. I'm playing bongos in my new band, but...

Nao Unlike the others, Nao's personal info comes as documents you can read wherever. > History Egasaki Elementary School ... Graduated Egasaki Middle School ... Graduated Third Kurotsuki Private High School ... Graduated Takesasa Private College of Art ... Currently 1st year Middle-class, born and raised by a very ordinary family. School grades below average. Focused on art starting in high school, and now seems interested in pursuing only that. Looks up to an art club advisor she met in high school, staying deeply intimate with him even post-graduation. Often seen going to the man's atelier. Doesn't appear to have many friends, but has a long association with most she does have, so it's suspected she values relationships. Also, refrains from going out at night, generally staying at home even on days off. No information known on what men she associates with.

> Physical info Nao Egokoro Age: 19 Gender: Female Height: 162cm (5'4") Weight: 55kg (121lb) Has little experience in sports and the like, limited to P.E. classes in compulsory education. Even so, her reflexes are poor. Perhaps due to her inclination toward art, she has very good eyesight. Her ability to remember a scene for a long time or recognize the individual flaps of a bird's wings is within reason, yet superb. Since much of this comes from practice, about the only thing that can be called a born talent, it is thought, is her passionate love for art. No other notable characteristics, although she has a large bust. (Sara will remark that the last line is harassment and tear it out)

> Relatives Born to a middle-class, extremely average family. Both parents are in good health. Having good relations with them, her situation is common yet happy. The father has been an office worker for 20 years. The mother has carried various jobs. No siblings. The father is under his wife's thumb. When they fight, it appears Nao Egokoro often defends her father to resolve the conflict.

> Death Game info Safely cleared the First Trial. Survived the first Main Game. Greatly affected mentally by death of her teacher. Took off with teacher's head and ran amok. This could be taken as mental weakness, but endurance of great shock could make her that much more mentally sturdy going forward.

> What she holds dear Most likely, Nao Egokoro treasures the artworks she has created, and brushes et al. received from her high school teacher. Due to minimal desire for money, she does not seem the type to want expensive things.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 223: Let Me Give You a Hand

Previously on BnHA: Tomura had a flashback to when he first met All for One. AFO told him he’d spontaneously developed a rare quirk which led to him accidentally killing his entire family and his adorable dog. Baby Tenko was able to recall “fragmented images” of the incident but curiously has no clear memories of his life beforehand. But I’m sure AFO isn’t lying, him being such a stand up guy with no obvious ulterior motives here. Anyway so we also found out that the hands are supposedly all that’s left of Tomura’s family, if anyone actually buys that. And Ujiko is the one that made them. Ujiko, as it turns out, doesn’t really plan to withhold the Noumus and everything from Tomura, but he does want Tomura to prove he’s ready to handle them, and to do that he wants him to go back and win over Gigantomachia. Tomura was all “okay fine” and so Ujiko teleported him back along with the rest of the Shigaraki Squad, except for Dabi who didn’t wanna (he’d rather antagonize Hawks instead). So that’s where we’re at now. Oh and I almost forgot, but Tomura wants to destroy everything, like the whole fucking world, because he feels like that might help to ease his constant inner pain and torment. So that’s nice. What a nice chapter.

Today on BnHA: We fast-forward to mid-December. Tomura and the gang have been dueling Gigantomachia near-ceaselessly for the past month and a half. Giganto can fight for a full 48 hours (and 44 minutes) at a time without rest, so the Squad has been taking it in shifts, but since Tomura is Giganto’s main target he’s been fighting almost constantly. He seems to be in good spirits, though, and is confident they’re making progress. Anyway, so shortly after Giganto’s scheduled nap begins, Twice gets a call from Giran! Or rather, Re-Destro, calling from Giran’s phone, to brag about having kidnapped Giran. Apparently he’s been keeping busy by chopping off Giran’s fingers. Ramsay Bolton-ing it, if you will. He’s been leaving them at strategic locations across the country trying to get the League’s attention, but his buddies finally managed to hack Giran’s phone and get his contact info, so it turns out the finger-chopping wasn’t strictly necessary. So he explains who he is and what he’s about, says there are 116,516 members of the Liberation Army spread throughout the nation (did you do a fucking census?!), and explains that they have a satellite tracking Tomura’s location. He then delivers an ultimatum: come and fight, or be captured by the authorities.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 226, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

so the title of this chapter is “cockroach”, which could mean anything, but is most likely being used in the “pesky little bugger who’s obnoxiously hard to kill” sense. Tomura are you the cockroach. who is the cockroach. hmm

(ETA: yeah I still don’t know. whatever)

anyway so now it’s mid-December...! holy shit what, we’re caught up?

actually, scratch that, we’re ahead of where we were before because our last update was “early December, Sunday morning” on the day of Shouto and Katsuki’s provisional license retest. shit. Tomura I’m gonna need you to stop whatever it is you’re doing and go on your phone and look up articles about the purse snatchers who were stopped by the two young heroes who placed first and second in the U.A. sports festival earlier this year. specifically I need you to find out for me what Kacchan’s fucking hero name is omfg. can you do that

Tomura. Tomura, focus

...

okay I can see that you’re busy right now. wow. okay, uh

so lol this guy’s been at it for a month?? more or less? do I have that right? Tomura how the fuck are you still alive. you really are a cockroach

also did Giganto just fucking snap you in two here or

oh I should have known

hahaha they’re so cute!

I’m honestly amazed they haven’t fucking quit. they’re still at it. this is one loyal bunch of bastards. and Tomura is showing more dogged perseverance than I ever expected him to be capable of. makes me sad for what could have been, honestly

why doesn’t Compress just compress him. you’re telling me he hasn’t managed to touch him once in the however many weeks that they’ve been at this? or maybe he has and that’s how they’ve managed to survive this long lol

anyways, so Giganto is all “WEAK!” again and now he’s doing this

so maybe that’s why Compress hasn’t been able to touch him. he got that DBZ battle aura shit going on

(ETA: he’s kinda giving me All Might vibes, actually. Deku you wanna take a crack at this?)

meanwhile Spinner and Toga are watching from a safe distance like smart people

Toga says it looks like Tomura’s in trouble, and Spinner’s all “same as always then”

also Spinner has changed out of his Stain cosplay at long last and I don’t know what to make of this you guys

this is a shockingly normal look. a hoodie and a fucking jacket. I’m just... I’m still processing this. okay you win this round Spinner

so he’s explaining for those who aren’t paying attention to the timeline that it’s been more than a month and a half since Tomura was tasked with getting Gigantomachia to chill out, and he has still not chilled out

holyyyyyyy shit

I have to assume Spinner is exaggerating things here for the sake of drama because Tomura would fucking be dead. or else he’d have quit by the second day. screw destroying the world, I’m gonna take up knitting or something

I seriously can’t believe this shit though? was this part of AFO’s plan also? talk about a way to level up your protege in record time. either he dies or he becomes the strongest bitch who ever lived. has AFO been sneaking peeks at U.A.’s lesson plans

holy shit

wow they really are true ride or dies. also Dabi 100% had the right idea. best decision you ever made Touya

but seriously though Tomura should be dead. forget just sleeping, when is he eating and drinking? are the others going on coffee and bagel runs on their breaks? are you telling me Tomura’s been fighting this guy for the past 40 days all doped up on caffeine with only cup ramen to sustain him and running on 9 days’ worth of sleep spread out over six weeks wtf. he should be dead from exhaustion or else a fucking heart attack

holy shit Horikoshi actually explained how their broke asses didn’t just up and starve to death though omg

they got an allowance awww

also Toga is still the cutest and my favorite and fuck yeah girl you tell him though. nobody wants to be running around in the woods in fucking December without a fucking coat, Spinner

interesting that she’ll steal a bikini but not a jacket lol. nah we’re paying for that like good honest citizens

holy shit Spinner you’re still having your identity crisis?

I can’t decide if Horikoshi is setting things up to have him jump ship and join Detnerat (what with him feeling increasingly disillusioned with the League, and Destro’s philosophy being something that would almost certainly appeal to someone with his quirk and history), or purposely trying to make it seem like he is so that he can subvert everyone’s expectations and have him unexpectedly remain loyal to Tomura at the critical moment. kinda like what happened when Katsuki got captured. right now I’m leaning more to him defecting though; I think that plot would open up a lot more possibilities story-wise

(ETA: after reading Toga’s latest chapter I’ve swung back around on this. the Liberation Army is full of fucking phonies who don’t practice what they preach. look at how Kizuki was trying to make Toga into a martyr for their cause. I feel like Spinner would be able to see through their bullshit. hopefully.)

by the way you guys has Ochako always been on this list or is this a recent development??

and I love you, Toga! even though this in no way even comes close to answering Spinner’s question though! it’s okay it was foolish of him to ask

(ETA: so apparently she loves Ochako because she ships her and Deku! this is one of the most relatable things in this manga to date.)

lol

hush you that’s what makes her so perfect

and now I guess some time is passing and now they’re finally getting to take a break!

you know, that’s a good point about him eating. he’s gotta power himself up somehow. all quirks have a limit, we’ve known that since very early on. at some point Giganto has to reach his, right?

holy shit you guys

I just got some strong Katsuki vibes coming off of our resident crazyboy here and I need a moment to process this. damn. that’s some powerful character development from a guy whose signature move up till this point was sitting on a couch

Spinner’s watching him and thinking that Tomura’s gaze looks like that of “a young boy chasing his dreams”

yeah, his dream of destroying the whole world and everything in it. so pure

oh FUCK

YOUR BOY GIRAN WHO’S CURRENTLY BEING HELD BY DETNERAT?? THAT GIRAN? UH

lol Compress is telling Twice to ask if his robot arm is insured. Giran has bigger things to worry about than your arm dude. if this even is Giran calling and Giran isn’t fucking dead, since we do know this series isn’t above killing people off every now and then, and we had quite the disturbing image of what looked like a finger lying on what was apparently Giran’s signature scarf in the last chapter

Twice is saying that Giran is a real good guy and that he looked out for Twice even after he joined the League

ffffff he really is fucking dead huh

lmao but because it’s Twice he then immediately shouts at Giran for being an asshole and not answering Compress’s calls

OH FUCK

FUCK ME YOU GUYS GIRAN WAS FUCKING TORTURED TO DEATH. HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS SERIES KEEP ESCALATING ITS LEVELS OF HARDCORE WHEN IT COMES TO VILLAINS

so Compress is stupidly asking if Giran’s using a voice changer, but Twice has already conned on to what’s going on

oh fuck oh shit oh fucking shit

Compress is immediately whipping out his phone

OH FUSCK

JUST VILLAIN THINGS

fuck me this fucking series not pulling any punches. “what timeslot does the anime currently run in, again?” Horikoshi asks absentmindedly while he proceeds to not give a flying fuck one way or the other

ksdjlfkjw jesus fucking christ

IS THIS FUCKING GAME OF THRONES??! are you fucking for real with this shit??! AND SURE, WHY NOT, LET’S JUST DRAW THE FUCKING FINGER JUST LYING THERE ON THE SIDEWALK

BREAKING NEWS, JUST ANNOUNCED, SEASON 5 OF THE RUNAWAY ANIME HIT “MY HERO ACADEMIA” TO AIR EXCLUSIVELY ON HBO

oh hold up lol there’s more

well fuck me y’all if that ain’t a whole fucking hand

and fuck me also because the site of All Might’s last stand against AFO in Kamino is officially known as Ground Zero and it’s commemorated with a fucking statue and everything. my Kacchan hero name theory is decimated, Ground Zero as Kacchan’s hero name is fucking confirmed and if it is the case I’m going to get extremely emotional now at what his obvious reasons would be for choosing that name holy shit though

(ETA: although to be fair! what’s written in the chapter here is グラウンドゼロ (Guraundozero), whereas Bakugou’s name from those old character book sketches was  爆心地 (Bakushinchi). so it’s not quite the same! I feel like it’s still up in the air. I really just need this to be settled already lol. can you tell by the way I keep bringing it up multiple times each chapter even though this is an arc about the fucking villains for pete’s sake.)

-- oh shit he’s right. so we’ve got the Eight Precepts’ house, Hosu City, the Highway to Hell, Kamino, and now Fukuoka. you guys if memory serves, that is indeed every known League of Villains incident location... except for one. the very first one. as if U.A. needed any more reason to be on edge lately holy christ. let’s hope to god they don’t start chopping off the other hand

oh snap Joker’s got himself a name now!

Redestro? or ReDestro? lol that’s one of those names that looks fine in all-caps comic book letters but when typed out like this it looks stupid as hell

(ETA: I’m going with Re-Destro since it looks the least weird to me. idk.)

wow Tomura you’ve had time to keep up with the NY Times bestselling list while fighting for your life for the last six weeks? I’m impressed

this kid is not in a mood to play nice with others today and I’m loving it

Twice. where the fuck do you think Giran is. smdh

wow, Re-Destro says he’s actually still alive. hey you don’t have to show us what kind of condition he’s in, Horikoshi. just putting that out there. we have functioning imaginations, we get it. we’re good

(ETA: he’s actually doing a lot better than I thought he’d be. though I still want to take him home and wrap him up in a blanket and make him watch Jaime’s redemption arc in GoT and see if he gets inspired.)

anyway so Re-Des says they’re gonna destroy the status quo and rebuild the world into a place where everyone is free to use their powers to their full extent whenever

wow, Compress

um idk maybe because they chopped your broker’s fucking fingers off??? were you guys not tight with Giran or what? poor dude suffered some horrific shit all because he didn’t want to sell you fuckers out. least you could do is be offended

meanwhile Tomura wants to get a raincheck on this whole affair because he has other pressing matters to deal with right now

at least he told them to release Giran

oh fuuuuuuuuuuuck

where are they?? an observation tower somewhere??

jesus christ is that blood on his lap there??

how are his arms even tied behind him if he’s missing a fucking hand????

(ETA: genuinely curious about that last one though lol.)

wow Re-Destro is really testing the League’s empathy levels here

well, Tomura, that’s some pretty fucked up shit he did to your guy. what do you think. are you even slightly horrified. pissed off?

oh shit you guys!!

HE DIDN’T EVEN TALK. THIS MOTHERFUCKER DIDN’T BREAK, THEY HAD TO HACK HIS PHONE WITH THEIR MAD IT SKILLS IN ORDER TO GET THE LEAGUE’S CONTACT INFO. AND GIRAN LOOKS FUCKING HORRIFIED OH MY GOD

guys I can’t believe Giran is my new favorite character I s2g Horikoshi if you touch him again I’ll

...anyway. let’s do this whole two-page spread now because I’m super hyped in spite of my also being horrified by everything

FEEL GOOD INC. is that a fucking Gorillaz reference in my fucking shounen manga about superheroes. do I need to analyze me some lyrics. I can’t actually see any connection lol aside from it being a badass name for a villain corporation

guys I can’t believe Kizuki is my new favorite character I s2g Horikoshi if you touch her I’ll

oh hey, cool, shouldn’t be too hard to take these guys out. they’ve just got billions of dollars (presumably) and one hundred thousand soldiers lying in wait ready to rise to action at a moment’s notice, their words not mine. cool. cool cool cool cool cool cool cool we’re fucked

OH SHIT

is that why he’s in that observation place? fucking hell, how?

OH SHIT, AGAIN

HOW FUCKING NOBLE OF Y’ALL. though honestly I guess if we have to pick between the villains with the 12 Noumus of the Apocalypse who want to destroy everything, or the villains capable of running a successful business who just want people with quirks to be free, objectively the latter group is a better bet to side with

except for the fact that the latter group is totally cool with snapping their poor mouse secretary’s neck just because he didn’t like their book. and they’re also down to chop off a guy’s fingers one by one just to make a damn point. so yeah, pardon me but I’m gonna side with the League here in spite of everything

wow what the hell kind of negotiations are these??

so you just called to tell them that? “hi hello just wanted to introduce myself and let you all know I hate you and here’s how fucking screwed you are lol have fun with that”

haha hey Horikoshi what the fuck

(ETA: so yeah this is that same hand gesture that he’s doing in the panel immediately after this one. I guess it’s just their thing. these guys think they’re so fucking cool. it’s not cool to chop off people’s hands, Re-Destro!!)

I can’t believe I have to deal with this shit on the same day I’m posting the damn mushroom chapter recap

oh wow okay so he is actually giving them a chance here

lol wow this fucking arc. holy shit

but who was cockroach. well whatever. fucking villain arcs though, you guys. omg

[magistralucis]

Rammstein @ Stadium MK, 06 July 2019 [Review]

Just over a week ago, I saw one of the greatest shows in my life.

I dedicate lengthy reviews to most concerts I’ve been to. R+ most definitely merit one, and I like to think this one turned out very nice and long, with plenty of images in between. Nevertheless, I omitted a lot more details this time than I usually do, because:

My pre-show adventures were abnormally long (12+ hours wait).

I made irl queue buddies whose identities aren’t up to me to release.

I’ve talked to people who plan to attend future tour dates and do not want to be spoiled on what R+ has planned. I usually put my reviews below a cut to prevent spoilers, but it doesn’t work on mobile as well.

So, a compromise: I commented on every song on the setlist, but I kept to general comments for new content. There are things R+ brought out this year that you really need to see with your own eyes. But I can’t completely refuse to talk about new things, otherwise that’s only half a review. Those who are wary of all spoilers, please, read at your own risk.

Read on for more. Mobile users, be warned this is a very long post.

----------------------------

The Journey (+ Queue Adventures)

This show wasn’t in London. You won’t read about London commutes or opinions about the London Underground in this section for once. Too bad the journey to Milton Keynes fucking sucked. It wasn’t commuting back and forth between Rammstein and my hotel that was the problem. In fact, going back home from Milton Keynes was very simple. But getting there? My God. Only a few things went pear-shaped, and I have nobody but myself to blame for the things that went wrong, but I was not prepared for the discrepancy between MK and the areas surrounding it. Future me, book your hotels and transport in Central Milton Keynes next time.

I will never put myself in the mercy of so many taxis in my life again. Well, I mean, two. Still two too many.

A quick note about Milton Keynes for non-UK residents. It’s probably the most organized city in this country. Milton Keynes is modern and grid-planned, unlike most other cities here which have grown organically and have alleys and hills and cobblestones all over the place. All the roads in MK are in straight lines or clear roundabouts, buildings/facilities are in logical places, and it’s widely considered to be a very easy place to navigate. It’d have been nice to experience literally any of that during most of my journey, because dumbass booked a hotel in the villages around Milton Keynes rather than the city itself. The villages are serene and calming, but they absofuckinglutely do not adhere to any such thing as a grid plan and getting around them was difficult. This was not helped by the fact that the very first leg of the journey, Brighton to London, was delayed for an hour due to an accident on the motorway. I missed the connection to Milton Keynes as a result.

Fuckign.

That was one inconvenience which was not in any way my fault whatsoever, and I’m still bitter that it nearly ruined my entire journey. At least trains between London to Milton Keynes are very common, and it’s only half an hour. So ultimately, after an extra fifteen quid, I arrived right on time. Commuting to the hotel was much harder, because it was a very hot day, and the trains to these villages come by more infrequently. But at least they were there, I hadn’t packed a very heavy load, and when I finally reached the hotel I was given a cottage room all to myself which was cool and comfortably out of the way. There was a huge bathtub. Some nice free toiletries. Complimentary brandy. Oh, hotel, why couldn’t you have been a little closer to the city centre?

But, whatever. I got there. I took the Ls I deserved, and I didn’t pay too high a price for the one I didn’t deserve. I’d brought more than enough money to cover it, because I’d known I would need to shell out extra for transport on the day of the concert. That thought process is universal among concertgoers; I think I handled that as well I could have. I ate dinner, packed a bag, and fell asleep.

That was Friday. Saturday the 6th I will cover in bullet points, from waking up to front row, because most of my Saturday consisted of nothing but waiting for Rammstein. I’m usually more detailed about my preshow life, but there’s a line between an entertaining diary entry and making people slog through fifteen hours of Rammstein-not-happening. Let’s go.

4am. Up nice and early. I force down breakfast. I have a small bag packed with necessities, and a plastic bag intended to be disposed of at the concert: the latter contains energy bars, satsumas (for hydration), some dried salami, and two bottles of water. That is all I’m going to be eating for the rest of the day.

5:45am. Taxi to Stadium MK. It costs exactly a tenner. I decide that when I’m heading back from the concert, I’m willing to pay up to double this amount. A higher price surge will mean I’ll have to wait.

6am. Queuing adventures begin. There are already four people ahead of me; the people at the very front have been waiting since 3am. I’m at Gate 5, closest to front row out of all the other available gates in the stadium. There are three queue lines already formed with metal barriers, separated by standing, seats, and accessible/disabled, but there is a taller barricade in front of it which prevents us from going in there. We are too early even for that.

Stadium doors open at five, R+ comes on at eight. This is going to be a ridiculous haul.

7am. Up to ten people in the queue. The first six of us in the queue begin talking. These people are the aforementioned queue buddies who will subsequently keep my place in line during bathroom breaks, give me much concert wisdom, and preserve our places for front row. The human capacity to spontaneously begin caring for one another at concerts is what I like best about concert culture, especially metalhead culture. Ain’t no other home I’ve found like with fellow metalheads.

9:30am. I am really tired. The people right behind me have homebrewed a sunshade out of plastic picnic mats across the barriers. Half of us are collapsed on the asphalt, sleeping.

10:13am. Bathroom break. Me and one other girl leave the queue to the 24h McDonalds to make use of theirs. I will revisit this McDonalds roughly 14 hours from now, this time to contribute actual business.

12pm. People in queue are significantly more alert because security guys have started milling around. The barricades for the main queue lines will be removed around 3pm.

1:30pm. One last bathroom break. We visit the nearby Asda, because it’s becoming evident the area is flooded with R+ fans and the restaurants are demanding they engage with actual business before using their bathrooms. Asda has no such issue.

3pm. Barricades finally open and I make it to the front of the line once more. We’re allowed a single 500ml bottle of water with us but then they FUCKING HIT US AGAIN WITH THE NO BOTTLE CAP BULLSHIT. Seriously it’s more of a hazard to have open bottles spilling water everywhere for the love of God just let us keep our bottle caps. I discard my original cap, but what I didn’t tell security was that I had a sports cap from a separate bottle from earlier hidden in the depths of my jacket. Once I’m in, I just screw that on, and I am fine and dandy.

5PM FUCKING DOORS ARE OPEN GO GO GO-

-STAIRS? S T A   IR S??? AIN’T NOBODY FUCKING TELL ME ABOUT STAIRS ? 1!?@?3@?@/2?3?#

After a wild scramble I score front row nonetheless. Last time I was front row for Rammstein, I was in front of Richard; this time I choose Paul’s side.

Around 6pm it begins to rain. In the stadium.

6:30pm. I am really cold. I am shivering despite the thousands of people rubbing shoulders beside and all around me, and it’s still 1hrs 30mins until R+ show up. They cannot come on fast enough. I have never wanted so much to be toasted like a marshmallow.

7pm. The opener comes on - Jatekok, a classical pianist duo who covered most of Sehnsucht over a half-hour period. They are all the way over at the B-stage however, and while I can hear them, being a short woman at front row essentially means I forfeit anything that happens on the B-stage. It’s too far back, and there are too many people between me and the stage for me to see anything.

Rammstein came on at 8pm to a multi-language announcement asking the audience not to film the performance. The abundance of full-length videos on youtube depicting exactly that is proof that this request was not kept, but I digress. I’m assuming most people reading this review are Rammstein fans, or or know how each song’s ‘performance’ goes, so a minute-by-minute play will be unnecessary. My comments are general, but hopefully insightful.

----------------------------

01. Was ich liebe (Rammstein)

Check this shit out!

This screen will continue to be relevant throughout the concert. Half the time it’s displaying the logo, and half the time... well, you’ll have to see 😂 R+ have opted for a relatively calm start in this tour. The bandmates appear one by one to the intro, lingering at the front of the stage (save for Schneider) until Till appears.

All the bandmates’ outfits. So far a theme is uncertain. Or maybe it’s just that Flake is the odd one out. He sparkles most golden throughout the entire concert. He still has the treadmill arrangement going. If anything he’s gotten more stage-confident and hilarious since the last time I saw him.

Till’s outfit goes hot and serious and heavy. He will only keep the coat on for ‘Was ich liebe’, which is perfectly reasonable; it’s stopped raining by this time and the venue is warm-ish, though clouded. As for ‘Was ich liebe’ as a song, I’m fond of it. I am, however, surprised to see that it’s the opener. This is not a complaint: in retrospect, R+ paced out the songs from their recent album very cleverly throughout the concert, alternating between their older hits and building up to the major climaxes in the middle (songs 7-14). It was just a bit of a surprise at the time.

I see the most of this cheerful lil’ bastard through the show. Paul will feature heavily in my images of this night.

02. Links 2-3-4 (Mutter)

Storytime. Kinda. I had never watched the music video of ‘Links 2-3-4′ until the day of this concert. I’ve always known one existed, I just didn’t watch it because it’s full of ants and insects are my number one phobia. I haven’t willingly sought out things with insects in it for years, and I wasn’t going to start any time soon. This self-imposed ban on watching the video was broken in Stadium MK because while we were waiting, they were marathoning every single R+ music video on a large screen off to the side of the stage. I watched the whole thing then because I might as well; what the hell else was I gonna do, leave the front row?

It was actually a pretty good video once I got past the CGI bugs ick factor of it. This has nothing to do with the actual live version of the song. Why the hell have I written so much about this? Till removes his heavy coat almost as soon as the song begins. Paul starts properly fucking around with his mic. I’m seeing the virtues of being on Paul’s side very early on, and I finally get what people mean by having ‘met Paul’s eyes’ during the concert. It’s not that he’s focused on the one person, at least not as far as he outwardly presents himself, but he does seem to have a specific zone in which he regards the audience. He takes time to meet eyes with various people, smile, and acknowledge particular situations.

03. Tattoo (Rammstein)

Till is now dressed suitably for the Tillhammer to come out in full force. I’m not huge on ‘Tattoo’ as a song, but this is where Till really starts to gravitate towards either side of the stage, rather than at dead center. After shenanigans with Paul, as seen above, he comes over to Paul’s side (where I am) and stays for the first verse and the first ‘zeig mir deins, ich zeig' mir deins’ chorus.

I like to think we make eye contact, but there are thousands of people behind me and he’s not an eye contact person. Just a fleeting thought.

Also I just went to look at one of the aforementioned full-length videos of this concert and someone was bouncing around an inflatable shark (?) behind me. How did they get that in? Hide it deflated in one’s clothes then inflate it while in the stadium?

04. Sehnsucht (Sehnsucht)

The last strands of ‘Tattoo’ fade immediately into ‘Sehnsucht’ with no time for a break. Till removes another layer of outerwear. Fireworks burst out at every beat leading up to the main part of the song. In retrospect, discounting their fiery entrance, ‘Sehnsucht’ is really the point where you can tell they’re warming up the pyrotechnics. I don’t remember any particular interaction between Till or the guitarists, as from what I can remember Till was busy Tillhammering at the center stage; he will move around more freely later. My memories of this song are loving but blurred, because I got into headbanging with the girls beside me and their hair was grazing my arms something awful. I have similar length hair, however, so I’m sure I was doing the same to them.

God ‘Sehnsucht’ is so good. I always think of the Live Aus Berlin performance where Till was bashing the mic against his forehead when I hear this song. Hits me right in the spot every time.

Also: bonus Richard.

05. Zeig dich (Rammstein)

*sick guitar riffs* ‘Zeig! Dich!’

Fuck yeah. The heat from those firebursts are brief but incredible. Now I feel most comfortable and toasted. Black smoke drifts into the sky.

Also significant ymmv based on location, but this is only about the people around and behind me: come on guys, seriously? You don’t know the lyrics! This is the third song from Rammstein already and you’ve been quiet all three times! I however give them credit for being so well behaved through the show. People further to the right of me were getting dragged out all over the place.

06. Mein Herz brennt (Mutter)

Till trolls us with the first instance of ‘mein Herz brennt’, as the main riff doesn’t immediately begin after these words in this performance. He has a laugh about this. Other than that, the performance is as you’d expect, complete with heart pyrotechnics towards the end.

Olli comes very close to me at the halfway point. I'm starting to worry he’s going to spend the entire concert dressed like this, though the concern is unwarranted. It seems such a hot thing to be wearing.

07. Puppe (Rammstein)

ich rEISS' DER PUPPE den KOPF! AB!

ja, ich REISS' DER PUPPE den KOPF! AB!

UND DANN BEISS’ ICH DER PUPPE DEN H̷AL҉S̕ ĄA̡AA͟B̵!

E̷҉S̀͡͞ ҉̶ĢE͞͝H̷͡T͘ ̢́M͜҉I̵͜R ́͠͝N̷̴Í̷C͟͡͞H̸̀T̛̀ G̡̕U̡҉̀U̵̕U͡͠U҉UU̢U͡T̷̨̛

Make sure you see this performance live, preferably up close. It’s beyond words.

08. Heirate mich (Herzeleid)

When I was in the queue I struck up a conversation with one of my queue buddies about what songs might be on the setlist. She had been front row for the concert in Berlin prior to this, so she already knew what we were getting into. I requested no spoilers in advance, which she kept to - but then our conversation moved to the Herzeleid-Sehnsucht era and I mentioned how I’d love to see a live performance of ‘Heirate mich’ again. It was always a wistful sadness of mine that I was born too damned early to see Till doing this.

Not that I said outright Tillchard was the reason I liked this song.

In retrospect, she had a twinkle in her eye when I said this, because she knew that this song was on the setlist. I did not see it coming. I kept myself spoiler-free from day one of buying tickets to the actual concert itself, so it was a genuine surprise when the intro to ‘Heirate mich’ started playing. Surprise and confusion with a heaping side of mother fucking excuse me when I recognized what it was.

Oh I went hog wild, guys.

Till does not do the dragging himself onto his knees thing in the current tour, which I think is understandable. His knees weren’t amazing twenty years ago and they are presumably even less so now. It’s a very straightforward performance, winding down to prepare for the real showstoppers - but my old wish was finally granted, Till sounded wonderful in both song and narrative, and I came away most satisfied. 11/10 would listen again.

09. Diamant (Rammstein)

Half the band takes a break here. Flake comes down from the keyboards to sit on the stage and Olli sits beside him, providing the bass for this short beautiful little ballad. There are no fancy pyrotechnics here, nor much stage movement; it’s a sequence to make the audience aware of the overheard screen, imo, in case ‘Puppe’ didn’t do a good enough job of it. The entire performance is broadcast on that screen with the camera turning between Olli, Till, and Flake.

Till’s voice is beautiful. It’s the most legitimately serene Rammstein performance I’ve ever seen live. They have their share of ballads - ‘Ohne dich’ will also feature later in the concert - but ‘Diamant’ is probably the most low-key of them all.

10. Deutschland (Richard Z. Kruspe Remix) / Deutschland (Rammstein)

I...

???

?????

?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!

I have no words. Like ‘Puppe’, you really need to see this entire sequence live. I can say three things, however, and two are about Richard: 1) ‘Deutschland’ comes in two flavours in the tour, the second one being the glorious full version in the main album, 2) Richard avoids sounding devilish in his backing vocals (‘du hast, du hast, du hast, du hast... so heiß, so heiß, so heiß, so heiß’ etc), though I cannot guarantee he will always be as tuneful in future performances, and 3) he will not go of that coat until ‘Du hast’. DJ Kruspe is in the house and only the unrelenting flow of time can part him from his swaggity swag fluffcoat.

But I... well, I keep remembering Till’s pink shrug every time I look at it. Remember back when we fawned over that as the brand new Rammstein outfit?

Oh my God I’ve gotten so old.

11. Radio (Rammstein)

This is probably my second favourite song of the new album and they deliver. Because ‘Deutschland’ was, well, ‘Deutschland’, it comes across as relatively low-key compared to what came before (and will after), but I like it like that. During the bridge ‘Ra-di-o... radio’ part, Paul and Richard come out with their own small synths to recreate that sound. It’s so peppy.

Paul does another small dance. Why did I neglect being on Paul’s side until now? This is great.

12. Mein Teil (Reise, Reise)

I’m half ashamed to say I spent this entire performance filming it instead of rocking out. I wanted to save it that much. It was that good.

No, it’s not fundamentally different to other performances of ‘Mein Teil’. Till keeps his usual outfit, Flake’s in the pot, there is a pot, etc. However, the pyrotechnics have changed significantly, and let’s just say that Flake endures a hell of a lot more than previous incarnations.

And comes out of it more sprightly than before, somehow.

Marry me.

Also a bonus consequence of being front row: after this song, Till comes down the stage and walks along the barrier shaking/slapping hands with people. In his murderchef outfit. I was one of many who managed to touch his hand. It really is a very quick walk, so you’ll have to be ready with hand already out and in reaching distance (difficult if you’re short) if you want to partake in this encounter, but it does happen. Future concertgoers watch out for something like this maybe.

13. Du hast (Sehnsucht)

Can you really call it a live performance of ‘Du hast’ if the audience isn’t singing at least 50% of it in Till’s stead? But then, when else do we have that opportunity. Milton Keynes audience does not disappoint.

Also Till shoots some excellent fireworks that travels across the length of the stadium and back before crashing back onstage. I still hear their whistles in my mind. Night is beginning to fall for real, and it’s a fantastic time to be ramping up the fireworks. Evidently R+ think the same, because...

14. Sonne (Mutter)

Daaaaaaaaammnn!!!

I have a video of this performance, but honestly it is not that useful for assessing what’s happening onstage. There is just too much fire. The video whites out continuously from all the flames mere feet away from us. ‘Sonne’ has always been a facemelting showstopper for Rammstein during live shows, but they’ve really gone above and beyond this year: the arena truly lights up like the sun for the full duration of the song. I highly recommend getting front row for this, right in front of where you can see the pyrotechnics are installed in the above gif. (Between main speakers, essentially.) Your face will burn off even more than it usually burns off during a R+ concert, and you will enjoy every minute of it.

15. Ohne dich (Reise, Reise)

Till’s in very good condition tonight. How he pulls off the slow ballads is how I tend to gauge his voice is from night to night, and he doesn’t let us down here either. The entire front row slow waves to this song, which is something I’m proud of being a part of. The girl to the left of me is weeping. The seriousness of this song still does not prevent Flake fucking around. It wouldn’t do R+ performances justice if he wasn’t like this.

‘Ohne dich’ is considered the first ‘ending’ of the concert, meaning in reality the band’s first departure from the main stage. All six members take an initial bow before moving to the B-stage. They will return to the main stage shortly afterwards for further encores.

16. Engel (Sehnsucht)

Pros: The opening act return in their gorgeous outfits and pianos, and act as the piano instrumental for this performance.

Cons: It’s on the B-stage. I sure heard this song but didn’t see anything. God damnit I hate being five feet four.

They provide a karaoke for people exactly in my situation, though. That’s at least something 😂

17. Ausländer (Rammstein)

You thought one R+ boat ride was awesome? HOW ABOUT THREE.

I am going to cry. Look at it. It’s literally a Welcome sign. The sentiment of the music video to ‘Ausländer’ is perfectly retained as they surf across the audience from the B-stage.

Also bonus ~✨👀 unintentional Tillchard moment 👀✨~ as Richard has a little slip on his way out of the boat. He was not hurt and was back onstage quickly. All this before the song even begins. I may need to upload the video of this moment.

‘Ausländer’ itself I have slightly more mixed feelings for. The song is fantastic and I have no complaints about the album version, and hearing Till cry out ‘я люблю тебя’ is always a plus. The problem with the live version is simply that the drums are too loud during the chorus: instead of a clearly enunciated ‘Ich bin Aus-län-der!’ with a drumbeat on each syllable, one hears ‘*THUD* *THUD* Aus-län-*THUD*!’. I was wearing earplugs which might have affected the quality somewhat, but people who weren’t wearing any were talking about this after the show as well, and after watching videos of the Milton Keynes performance I’m sure the drums were too loud. Your mileage may vary on whether this is a desirable effect - it lets the audience fills in the ‘ich bin’ part, I suppose - but I feel Till was unnecessarily drowned out.

18. Du riechst so gut (Herzeleid)

For me, the highlight of this song in the live version is always, always, always Richard’s evil scream-growl ‘DU RIECHST SO GUUUUUUUUUUUT’ (example here for reference). He delivers yet again.

19. Pussy (Liebe Ist Für Alle Da)

On the whole, this performance is largely unaltered from how it usually goes. Till gestures for the audience to sing the first couple of lines, there is a dick cannon that shoots something at the audience, and Till mans the dick cannon. Last time I saw them from front row, we were all covered in a very thick white foam; this time it was bubbles, followed by a shower of white confetti. The combination was less clinging than the foam, somehow, much more pleasant to be showered with.

Only Rammstein could make me write such a sentence about dick cannons.

Speaking of the dick cannon, though, I engaged in some discussion about it while I was waiting for the performance. This cannon has had a troubled existence, as R+ fans would know: sometimes it straight up hasn’t worked, and it’s been redesigned several times, ranging from a disturbingly realistic look to a flesh-coloured polygonal creation. This current version is the least realistic of all the dick cannons R+ have ever used. It’s just like, metal. Visibly. They haven’t gone to the extra trouble of painting it flesh-coloured. My guess is that this is because it fits with their current chrome/dark aesthetics better, R+ aren’t a band to neglect that kind of detail. As long as it works and the audience is aptly showered, what’s the problem? Let’s do it quick! 😀 And now this is entirely too many words about dick cannons, so I’ll move on.

20. Rammstein (Herzeleid)

‘Ramm-stein!’

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. It is past ten o’clock and the skies have gotten dark, though not so dark you can’t see the black smoke spiraling into the air with each burst of fire. A plane flies by far above into the distance and I appreciate the poetic irony. I think I would have been happy enough if they’d ended the performance on this note, but there’s one last song left.

21. Ich will (Mutter)

I can’t think of a better finale.

This song is exactly what you’d expect, with an additional sprinkle of fireworks punctuating every pause in the lines ‘Seht ihr mich? / Versteht ihr mich? / Fühlt ihr mich? / Hört ihr mich?’. Like always, audience participation is mandatory, as is the audience showing off their hands. It is the perfect way to end the show: it’s a classic favourite, it’s neither too bright nor too grim (avoids ending on a downer note), and it’s a song exclusively written to highlight a togetherness between band and audience. ‘Ich will’ could end every R+ concert it features in, in my opinion, regardless of theme or era... and it will always be appropriate.

The concert really ends after that. It helps that Till addresses his farewell to us as ‘fucking Milton Keynes’ (in a wholly fond way) before they depart. I won’t speak about the details of how they leave, because that’s almost a small show of its own, but trust me when I say I was in tears.

I say that like that didn’t happen at least three times during the concert.

----------------------------

After it’s all over, I... don’t get to go back to my hotel and sleep. Not after a lot of waiting, anyway. Over 30,000 people are trying to leave this stadium all at once, the traffic congestion is awful and there are pretty much no taxis/uber rides available in the couple of hours following the concert. I eventually end up sitting in the McDonalds (only 24hr restaurant nearby) with queue buddies until roughly 1am until the surge goes down and I can pay the amount I promised myself for my uber.

I could have gone back earlier. I budgeted over a hundred pounds to see myself through the price surge, in case it didn’t go down as quickly as I hoped, or if I urgently needed to get myself out of danger. It was just that the predictor was showing something like fifty to eighty quid for a ten-minute ride back to my hotel and, like. Fuck that. There’s being able to ‘afford’ it, and then being able to afford it, and I can think of better ways to spend fifty pounds.

And to be honest, after over a half day of hunger, even McDonalds was one of those better places. I had a meal and a Sprite before I could get out of there. It was probably the first time I’d had something resembling a legit meal in two days and if I hadn’t been so ecstatic I think I’d have been depressed. Then I got back to my hotel. Made myself a hot chocolate with brandy. Passed out on my bed around 3am, then got back up around 7am to enjoy a nice morning bath and get myself back home. It was around 5pm on Sunday when I returned to Brighton, ears still ringing, feeling on cloud nine.

So that’s me. Future concertgoers, take as many opportunities as possible to go see Rammstein’s current tour live. Front row may be near impossible if you aren’t a LIFAD member and/or get pre-releases for the Feuer Zone (although Milton Keynes didn’t have that) but try to get as close as possible, anyway. It is not an experience to be missed.

Though also bring an umbrella, maybe. If your stadium allows it. It was a fucking trip surviving 12+ hours in the great outdoors and then immediately being rained on while on front row 😰

[berlinaura]

I’m slowly but surely starting to get settled down here. Apart from English and German, my courses started this week. In this post I am going to share a few “what the fuck” moments I’ve had during these 2,5 weeks and also just tell what’s up. 

Right now we are supposed to go to the first lectures of courses that seem interesting and try them out. As no official registration to courses is needed, we can try everything out and make our decisions after we have gotten an idea what the course is about and what the lecturer is like. This system has its advantages but then again it doesn’t differ much from what I am used to. The only difference in Finland is that you indeed need to register for the course but if you feel like giving up, it’s no problem to just leave.

Right now two of my courses are overlapping. Normally this wouldn’t be no problem whatsoever but here the lectures aren’t recorded nor can it be assumed that the lecturer posts the lecture material online. After a long time I have finally found interesting courses I am excited about but simultaneously I am not looking for having any of this extra stress. It would be bad enough to spend the evenings of my exchange year self-studying the material from missed lessons but now I wouldn’t have even an idea what they are talking about in the lessons (there’s not even a semester plan provided!). It’s just not worth guessing, googling, begging for lecture notes from other students twice a week.

I also heard that some teachers have problems accepting Erasmus students to their courses. If the international office in Berlin accepts the courses then there shouldn’t be any question if Erasmus students can attend the course! And even better - the info should already be provided on the course catalog when we are expected to choose courses. It’s just as I said earlier, some things are made difficult for no reason and the staff of TUB even knows this. Still nobody does any changes and and the frustration just repeats itself every semester.

From the info we got on the orientation week I understood that every professor might have their own “rules” and ways of working and nobody can stop them. They might just deny a student from their course and the head of the international office told us that the most efficient way to get proper treatment when a teacher acts up is to CRY IN FRONT OF THEM to make them uncomfortable. We were also told to “make sure you see that the professor is writing your name down when you tell them you’d like to participate. Otherwise they might just forget it when they go to a coffee break!”. Why the hell is this our responsibility? If you want to have a system where students can’t sign up for courses online and make sure they have a place, then the paper hell and struggle of keeping up with names is on you. 

Even the printing here is relatively hard. You have a few places where you can print. I’ve done it in the library and let me tell you, it ain’t that simple. First of all you need to leave your bag and jacket to a locker (to which you need to bring your own lock) or you can take your most important belongings our of your bag and leave everything else to a public space. Then you go to a computer (that looks like it’s from 2004) and download the thing you need to print to the computer. Also, the only accepted file is a pdf so you can’t for example just print an email, you need to copy it, paste it it Word and convert it into a pdf file. Then you put money to your name and go to a certain website to where you can pick a printer - or more accurately: you can choose the ROOM where it gets printed out. Next you’ll search all of the printers in the room while the printers print every students’ documents at the same time. Today I was hunting down some documents there and there was random people’s documents in between mine and I had no idea which printer is going to do the printing so I had to keep an eye of three printers for like 5 minutes until some of them finally printed out my document. Also, printing 1 black and white page costs 5 cents which eventually adds up because German people have some kind of fetish to forms and filling things out by hand.

Just like probably every capital, Berlin is not a “student city”. So naturally what I sort of miss here are student events. For a few times I have already got to explain the student life in Finland and everybody seems so interested and jealous of sittnings, saunas and the tech student culture, overalls, caps, traditions... An ESN club that organizes events and has a club room would be really great. Not that there is any student culture for the club to show (yikes :D) but hey, there is a very strong Berlin culture instead. 

We do have the buddy program here that is somewhat responsible of organizing a few events for us but I heard they are having a hard time coming up with fun things to arrange. Me and a Swedish exchange student volunteered to organize international sittnings here! The buddies also differ from the Finnish “tutors” because they’ve had barely any training or instructions and everybody is just there to hang out and have friends. Which is of course great and welcomed but exchange students are also full of questions and buddies are the people they want to ask them. Informing the buddies of basics (how exchange students sign up for stuff, what they need to take care of upon arriving etc) would add so much value to the buddy program. Luckily some of the buddies are more involved than others, and are there to meet, help and answer questions as well. 

While there might be a lack of student life and culture, Berlin is still an ideal place for students and young people. There are so many things to do and the city never sleeps. Last night (Tuesday-Wednesday night) I was out at 2 am and the whole city is just so lively. People are out and willing to have a conversation unlike in Finland. There’s plenty of events, music, dancing, bowling, clubs, pubs, sport opportunities, museums, flea markets, karaoke, restaurants, historical places, parks, christmas markets, sights... And the opening times are so much better than what I’m used to! Seriously, nobody chooses Berlin for the university, we choose Berlin for Berlin. 

Last year around this time I was at an international sittning in Tampere and talked with the international students about differences they find between their home country and Finland. This is probably my all time favorite topic to talk about. This one girl from Hamburg said “It is incredible how the atmosphere here in Finland is so peaceful. Nobody’s in a hurry. Look, you might have red lights on traffic but that’s okay, you’ll just wait until it turns green. You walk like you don’t need to be anywhere, just taking your time”. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about but now I know exactly what she was talking about. 

Everybody in Berlin is in such a hurry all the time. They’ll run 200 meters to the tram without giving shit about the traffic and then cram themselves in even though we can already see the next tram coming behind the corner. There’s a lot of people in Berlin and everybody makes room for themselves whereas I would just rather wait until the people on my way will pass. I get a bit anxious when I need to follow a Berliner in a crowd because they will walk twice as fast as me and they don’t want to take that needed 5 seconds to figure out if the first walking route they see is the most reasonable way to go through. To be honest there’s a few times I just wanted to shake my buddy and be like “Why can’t you notice that there’s a kid running towards you from your right and you’re going to pump into each other in 3 seconds if you keep on walking to that direction as if we were in a horrible hurry!! You can’t just walk with this tunnel vision, ignoring other people and expect me to keep up”. I’ll probably become less aware of the surroundings as I get more used to it. Can’t expect to have personal space and consideration from people in a busy and crowded city like this.

Although this post is a bit negative, I wake up every day with such gratitude to be here. Two days ago I walked like three hours just browsing Berlin and enjoying its beauty. I almost wanted to cry out of happiness when I got to Hackescher Markt because I felt like my soul is resting here. Hackescher Markt area is one of my favorite places here so far. I’m grateful of the interesting courses they offer at TUB. I love living in Prenzlauer berg and I truly had luck with the apartment. I am reminded of this every time I hear experiences of others. Yesterday I was hanging out in pubs in Kreuzberg and had a memorable night with people I just met. The atmosphere is so open and it’s not weird to just go talk to people. On Saturday I’ll go to visit Dresden, on Sunday I’ll go to Mauerpark (if the weather is nice) and next week there’s a concert I’m so looking forward to! 

[phroyd]

America, can we talk? Let’s just cut the shit for once and actually talk about what’s going on without blustering and pretending we’re actually doing a good job at adulting as a country right now. We’re not. We’re really screwing this whole society thing up, and we have to do better. We don’t have a choice. People are dying. At this rate, it’s not if your kids, or mine, are involved in a school shooting, it’s when. One of these happens every 60 hours on average in the US. If you think it can’t affect you, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. So let’s talk.

I’ll start. I’m an Army veteran. I like M-4’s, which are, for all practical purposes, an AR-15, just with a few extra features that people almost never use anyway. I’d say at least 70% of my formal weapons training is on that exact rifle, with the other 30% being split between various and sundry machineguns and grenade launchers. My experience is pretty representative of soldiers of my era. Most of us are really good with an M-4, and most of us like it at least reasonably well, because it is an objectively good rifle. I was good with an M-4, really good. I earned the Expert badge every time I went to the range, starting in Basic Training. This isn’t uncommon. I can name dozens of other soldiers/veterans I know personally who can say the exact same thing. This rifle is surprisingly easy to use, completely idiot-proof really, has next to no recoil, comes apart and cleans up like a dream, and is light to carry around. I’m probably more accurate with it than I would be with pretty much any other weapon in existence. I like this rifle a lot. I like marksmanship as a sport. When I was in the military, I enjoyed combining these two things as often as they’d let me.

With all that said, enough is enough. My knee jerk reaction is to consider weapons like the AR-15 no big deal because it is my default setting. It’s where my training lies. It is my normal, because I learned how to fire a rifle IN THE ARMY. You know, while I may only have shot plastic targets on the ranges of Texas, Georgia, and Missouri, that’s not what those weapons were designed for, and those targets weren’t shaped like deer. They were shaped like people. Sometimes we even put little hats on them. You learn to take a gut shot, “center mass”, because it’s a bigger target than the head, and also because if you maim the enemy soldier rather than killing him cleanly, more of his buddies will come out and get him, and you can shoot them, too. He’ll die of those injuries, but it’ll take him a while, giving you the chance to pick off as many of his compadres as you can. That’s how my Drill Sergeant explained it anyway. I’m sure there are many schools of thought on it. The fact is, though, when I went through my marksmanship training in the US Army, I was not learning how to be a competition shooter in the Olympics, or a good hunter. I was being taught how to kill people as efficiently as possible, and that was never a secret.

As an avowed pacifist now, it turns my stomach to even type the above words, but can you refute them? I can’t. Every weapon that a US Army soldier uses has the express purpose of killing human beings. That is what they are made for. The choice rifle for years has been some variant of what civilians are sold as an AR-15. Whether it was an M-4 or an M-16 matters little. The function is the same, and so is the purpose. These are not deer rifles. They are not target rifles. They are people killing rifles. Let’s stop pretending they’re not.

With this in mind, is anybody surprised that nearly every mass shooter in recent US history has used an AR-15 to commit their crime? And why wouldn’t they? High capacity magazine, ease of loading and unloading, almost no recoil, really accurate even without a scope, but numerous scopes available for high precision, great from a distance or up close, easy to carry, and readily available. You can buy one at Wal-Mart, or just about any sports store, and since they’re long guns, I don’t believe you have to be any more than 18 years old with a valid ID. This rifle was made for the modern mass shooter, especially the young one. If he could custom design a weapon to suit his sinister purposes, he couldn’t do a better job than Armalite did with this one already.

This rifle is so deadly and so easy to use that no civilian should be able to get their hands on one. We simply don’t need these things in society at large. I always find it interesting that when I was in the Army, and part of my job was to be incredibly proficient with this exact weapon, I never carried one at any point in garrison other than at the range. Our rifles lived in the arms room, cleaned and oiled, ready for the next range day or deployment. We didn’t carry them around just because we liked them. We didn’t bluster on about barracks defense and our second amendment rights. We tucked our rifles away in the arms room until the next time we needed them, just as it had been done since the Army’s inception. The military police protected us from threats in garrison. They had 9 mm Berettas to carry. They were the only soldiers who carry weapons in garrison. We trusted them to protect us, and they delivered. With notably rare exceptions, this system has worked well. There are fewer shootings on Army posts than in society in general, probably because soldiers are actively discouraged from walking around with rifles, despite being impeccably well trained with them. Perchance, we could have the largely untrained civilian population take a page from that book?

I understand that people want to be able to own guns. That’s ok. We just need to really think about how we’re managing this. Yes, we have to manage it, just as we manage car ownership. People have to get a license to operate a car, and if you operate a car without a license, you’re going to get in trouble for that. We manage all things in society that can pose a danger to other people by their misuse. In addition to cars, we manage drugs, alcohol, exotic animals (there are certain zip codes where you can’t own Serval cats, for example), and fireworks, among other things. We restrict what types of businesses can operate in which zones of the city or county. We have a whole system of permitting for just about any activity a person wants to conduct since those activities could affect others, and we realize, as a society, that we need to try to minimize the risk to other people that comes from the chosen activities of those around them in which they have no say. Gun ownership is the one thing our country collectively refuses to manage, and the result is a lot of dead people.

I can’t drive a Formula One car to work. It would be really cool to be able to do that, and I could probably cut my commute time by a lot. Hey, I’m a good driver, a responsible Formula One owner. You shouldn’t be scared to be on the freeway next to me as I zip around you at 140 MPH, leaving your Mazda in a cloud of dust! Why are you scared? Cars don’t kill people. People kill people. Doesn’t this sound like bullshit? It is bullshit, and everybody knows. Not one person I know would argue non-ironically that Formula One cars on the freeway are a good idea. Yet, these same people will say it’s totally ok to own the firearm equivalent because, in the words of comedian Jim Jeffries, “fuck you, I like guns”.

Yes, yes, I hear you now. We have a second amendment to the constitution, which must be held sacrosanct over all other amendments. Dude. No. The constitution was made to be a malleable document. It’s intentionally vague. We can enact gun control without infringing on the right to bear arms. You can have your deer rifle. You can have your shotgun that you love to shoot clay pigeons with. You can have your target pistol. Get a license. Get a training course. Recertify at a predetermined interval. You do not need a military grade rifle. You don’t. There’s no excuse.

“But we’re supposed to protect against tyranny! I need the same weapons the military would come at me with!” Dude. You know where I can get an Apache helicopter and a Paladin?! Hook a girl up! Seriously, though, do you really think you’d be able to hold off the government with an individual level weapon? Because you wouldn’t. One grenade, and you’re toast. Don’t have these illusions of standing up to the government, and needing military style rifles for that purpose. You’re not going to stand up to the government with this thing. They’d take you out in about half a second.

Let’s be honest. You just want a cool toy, and for the vast majority of people, that’s all an AR-15 is. It’s something fun to take to the range and put some really wicked holes in a piece of paper. Good for you. I know how enjoyable that is. I’m sure for a certain percentage of people, they might not kill anyone driving a Formula One car down the freeway, or owning a Cheetah as a pet, or setting off professional grade fireworks without a permit. Some people are good with this stuff, and some people are lucky, but those cases don’t negate the overall rule. Military style rifles have been the choice du jour in the incidents that have made our country the mass shootings capitol of the world. Formula One cars aren’t good for commuting. Cheetahs are bitey. Professional grade fireworks will probably take your hand off. All but one of these are common sense to the average American. Let’s fix that. Be honest, you don’t need that AR-15. Nobody does. Society needs them gone, no matter how good you may be with yours. Kids are dying, and it’s time to stop fucking around.

Written by a very smart man!

Phroyd

[mynameisbriggsycakes]

“Nobody is That Stupid”

Men are trash. 

I say this with a relative amount of experience under my belt and knowing full well that despite this statement, I am undeterred in my quest for that D. That being said, that D still belongs in the bin.

Yesterday I had to take my motorcycle skills evaluation test. For the second time. This was after taking a two-day class during Thanksgiving weekend in which the denouement was saturated with my own frustrated tears. The first day ended with me as gray as the clouds in the sky. I panicked, shut down, and almost burst into tears. The second day took a sheer amount of willpower that I hadn’t tapped into in months for me to return. Not even the instructors expected me to return.They even said so. They are very encouraging people, I swear.

Anyway, along with all the other craziness that I was dealing with, including, but not limited to job relocation, people sucking, my fear of flying to the point of insanity, money, no D, I was obviously under a bit of stress. But while I was so used to crawling back into my misery, as it is warm and familiar, I had to try to get out of it. I had to stop. So I listened to my friends and my counselor this time and turned away from that doubt and tried to pump myself up, get confident, and ace this skills test. I played music, and I even decided to leave a bit earlier so i could be sure to get there on time, under the impression that I could just take the test and leave. 

And then...there was Bruce.

Bruce drove a Chevrolet. Bruce had a 4.9 rating on Lyft. And Bruce picked me up at around 12:47 to take me to my test. And Bruce didn’t waste any time.

He immediately offered me some lip gloss that was left by a customer. I politely declined, saying that using a stranger’s lipstick is not the most hygienic thing to be doing. He looked shocked. Then he asked if I heard about the woman who brought a lawsuit against Sephora due to her contracting herpes after trying one of their samples of lipsticks. I did, of course, and he asked for my opinion. I stated that while I do give a personal side-eye for anyone willing to put used lipstick on, it’s still completely irresponsible for Sephora to allow this sort of practice as it defies all common sense. I continue:

Me: And despite the country being very litigation-happy--

Bruce: Especially California. 

Me (with internal red alerts humming): --it seems fair that she would sue for damages and her request is reasonable. 

Bruce: So let me ask you this.

Me (internally): Please don’t.

Bruce: So I’m trying to return to working in the office, you know, I’ve been doing this for two years and I really want to go back.

Me (internally): Oh, no.

Bruce: So when I go back, I just wanted to know...you know...since there’s gonna be women there..how do I approach them? I mean, ANY one of them, at any time, could complain that they are being sexually harassed. 

Me: Uh...that’s not how it works?

Bruce: So let’s say that I get into a relationship with someone at at work, right? It’s consensual and what not, and then it ends. Then she could go to HR and complain that it’s sexual harassment. Any woman could do it.

Me: No. Any woman could not do this.

Bruce: But listen--

Me: Here we go. If you’re asking me personally if I will date someone I work with, the answer is no. I don’t shit where I eat, but with that being said, I know plenty of people who were able to have loving, stable relationships with people they met at their job. They simply have to go to HR and tell them first.

Bruce: I know, but if she goes to complain--

Me: The point of HR is that it protects both parties. If there’s any sway to one side or the other, there is usually a reason. Anything else? (don’t say this ever to a Bruce)

Bruce: (dumb silence is dumb) So what do you think of the Harvey Weinstein scandal?

Note: I figured out later on that his line of questioning is deliberate and I am almost entirely convinced that he probably purchased that lipstick on his own specifically to start this ridiculous conversation with all the women he picks up. This is seven shades of fucked up.

Me (don’t answer don’t answer you are in a trap): I believe the woman and Weinstein is a pig who deserves to go to jail for the rest of his life.

Bruce: Yeah, but NOBODY is that stupid.

Me (snared in the trap): What?

Bruce: If I were a woman, and my boss told me to come up to his hotel in order to discuss business, why would you go? You can chose the hotel bar, the hotel lobby, a restaurant. Why would you go there?

Me (begins to see red): Because men of power have fostered a culture of fear specifically to subjugate women in order to keep them down and to keep the patriarchy alive. The power involved is usually sexual in nature. Women fear that if they do not acquiesce to sexual demands, their lives will be over. 

Bruce: But NOBODY is that stupid.

Me (actively She-Hulking out): You’re actually victim-blaming? Are you actually serious right now?

I wanted to get to my class early. I wanted to actually meditate on the course and eliminate all of the fear and anxiety in my heart so I could pass. Instead, I get a sexist, ignorant Lyft driver who unfortunately has all the control in the car and I am now wanting out.

The rest of the time, I just heard more excuse after excuse. And all I could think of was hearing those same words by people who said they loved me and told me it wasn’t the same thing as they molested and tried to rape me.

And I had enough.

Me: You know what? You are part of the problem. All you’ve done is victim blame and make excuses for what is obviously disgusting behavior. I’m getting out of this car and you have a nice day, sir.

I jumped out of the car at a stop light. I didn’t know where I was at first, but thankfully, I was only five minutes away from my destination. He muttered something at me, I’m sure an insult or something, I don’t give a fuck, but he sped away and canceled the ride. I made a mental note to report his ass later, but the damage was done. Instead of coming into my test relaxed and ready to go, I’m now worked up because of the not-so-gentle reminder that men are BASURA.

I went onto the course muttering to myself again, but it wasn’t an anxious muttering. It was more just exhaustion. I just need to remind everyone here that it is almost impossible to be positive in a world so fucked up like this. I am trying...SO HARD.

A minor highlight was when I finally arrived on the course to see someone else taking it with me. And not only that, he was supportive and kind and gave me tips. Just watching people ride on the course gives me a zen that I haven’t felt in a long time. And I thought with the lessons that I took on Saturday, I had a decent chance to ace this nope.

I hit a cone. My feet hit the ground. I stalled. My gears went to neutral. Objectively, I did worse than I did the last time and I fucking failed. But at no point did I decide to give up. I sucked up all my mistakes and I decided that no matter what, I was going to stay positive and not let my anxiety and nerves get me down. I did my best and I faced it.

Finally, it was the quick stop. I practiced this and nailed the heck out of it. So when the instructor called us over to tell us how we did, I almost broke down because I saw only one card in his hand, meaning that my classmate passed but not me nope.

There were two cards. I passed.

I PASSED.

I am now officially a licensed motorcyclist in the state of California. Granted, I need a TON more practice. A literal ton. I need to be more comfortable with riding and if I’m going to able to handle the new Ninja 300 I want to buy next year, I have to give it my all. But the instructors were kind and helpful and made sure I was able to take the next steps. I mean, we are talking about not only an extremely dangerous sport that could kill me if I don’t practice, but an activity that actually takes up so much of my time and makes me so calm that I’m addicted. I have to take this seriously and show all the Bruces of the world that I can outmaneuver any bullshit they throw my way and will protect those who can’t defend themselves. Why not? NOBODY is that stupid.

Until next time, guys.

[nhlhoser]

On The Rocks

 Master List 

         Ice ice baby

  Dancing around the ice on the streets of Toronto is a task in regular shoes but in heels is a fucking mission even when you're a native of the conditions. I've already caught a patch which I scraped my elbow and bruised my right hip and Now limping with a slightly damp trench coat.

 When I get to my destination I officially regret the choice of walking to the event rather taking a cab. My thought process did not include this amount of ice. I live close but it doesn't feel like that now.   

Entering the doors greeted by the security with warm smiles as I hand my invite over. I've been to one other event of this caliber -Black tie. I was a nobody there and I'm still a nobody here. I'm representing my dad's friend of friends company the first time it was for a Fundraising event for sick kids and the guy who I was filling for was out of the country and it would look horrible if no one from his company went and nobody wants to go.

Being a nobody is okay for anxious people like me. There is no attention on or for me in the slightest. I can come and leave and no one would notice but that won't some me from overthinking things like 'what if I trip?' 'Spill something on myself? Or even worse someone else!'

After checking my coat in and inner pep talk I stop by the bar to grab a cocktail that I highly need and will probably finish before I even get into the main hall.

 Passing a lot expensively dressed people I make my way to my table which is rather close the bar and the opposite side of the room from the main entrance.

 "Don't trip" I chant quietly under my breath as I pass the table to my seat. Carefully grabbing a flute of champagne of a tray being paraded around the room by multiple staff members. The more alcohol I drink the calmer I get and is just what I need right now.

  Starting to see familiar faces around the room making all the calm leave my body but I thankfully had made it to my table. My nervous making my grip on the flute almost white knuckle.

   As the room starts to fill meaning more people sitting at my table. All faces unknown to me. The tables beside me also unknown, closer to the stage is where all the NHL players sit with their girlfriends, wives or family.

As the night progresses it just gets boring. Speeches from organizers to everyone that came out directed mainly to the big name players and company heads that sponsor the league. I'm slightly buzzed from champagne and the open bar 20 feet to my left. Slowing down on the alcohol when the food game which like I had expected wasn't what  I had picked but I ate bits to looks the part and push around the rest to look like I ate more. The lady clad in bright blue making her eyes sparkle to my right going on about how luxurious the hall was and the importance of these events.

Bored. I got more bored the less I drank and the more the lady in blue kept talking- to who I'm not sure because honestly think I'm the closest to listen but that's just to be polite and I don't know anyone here.

After a short debate- no debate I knew it was the time I left and as people had started to get up to socialize and network (the purpose of this event) I left my seat, I made sure to grab all my belongings and drink the rest of my now warm drink. Carefully making to the washroom before I left. You can't keep drinking without almost peeing yourself.

   My makeup more I texted the. I expected but I had spray a good half of my setting spray. My blue eyes more vibrant than usual from my dark blue eyeliner and black smoked out eyeshadow and the false lashes framing and completing my look. No lipstick my lips naturally pink.  My dark hair straight falling past my breast and mid back and tucked behind my ear.  My cheeks pink from the alcohol. Time to go.

"Shit shit why did I have to wear white? And why did I have to have the chocolate ice cream?" A short blonde came rushing into the washroom. A dark smudge on her pristine dress. Stunning is the only word to describe the young women probably my age.  After watching her fail attempt of removing the stain I remember my Tide stick.

"Here I always carry this because I'm always clutz spilling things on myself," I said carefully offering her the stick. Her head snaps to me eyes wide. I clearly spooked her but she did take the stick and started to remove the stain with ease. Her shoulders relaxing the more the stain came out.

"Ah thank god! Thank you so much" she goes to give me back the pen by I refuse " it's okay you keep it. You never know what might come your way" I said warmly waving her off grabbing my clutch and heading for the door.

  Out of the door of the washroom and on my way to the exit I'm stopped by the lady in blue who now is accompanied a man who is not her husband. A man a handsome made with soft blue eyes, age lines accenting his features reveling some of his age and perfectly styled hair. Sporting a blue suit and brown dress shoes.

" Ah. Here she is. I thought you had left" almost lady almost. I smile carefully at the duo having no clue what's happening.  'Tread carefully'

"She's what you're looking for! Unknown beauty hell she doesn't even know it. Those eyes piercing! Maybe lose some bulk little too muscled.." she casually starts to point out flaws but then something she liked but all making me mad and confused. I never like being critiqued so blatantly. I'm a tall girl that likes to workout so of course, I have muscle.

As these two keep talking and I'm too polite to leave because I don't want to be rude even though they are rude. My eyes starting to well up with tears out of anger and my lips are pursed.

Stop talking to me!!!

The guy who now doesn't look as perfect as he points out my flaws offers me a card with his details on it. I carefully take it and make my way out of the hall and to the coat check my head down.

"Here's your coat miss" the young teenage hands me my trench and I would have been already gone if the girl from the washroom hadn't stopped me. Please, I can I leave!!! I just want to grab a hotdog and go home.

"I really want to thank you again" she gushed. I nodded and trip side step and leave. But she stopped me. "I just want to know those two uppity asses don't know what perfection is even if it hit them in the face like you should've, " she said seriously well holding me captive with her eyes.

 My confusion made her continue with a roll of the eyes. "When I came out of the washroom I saw your frown and I heard them in detail critiquing your appearance. I followed you. I want to thank you girl!" She finished with a huge grin.

" well, it's not a problem honestly" I grinned her words making me flush red.She sees someone over my shoulder. Her mood getting even happier (didn't know was possible). "I was wondering if you wanted to come an after party with me and my friends" she more informed than asked.

 With wide eyes, I don't want to have any more weird encounters tonight. " Ah I was hoping to go grab street meat and crawl into bed, " I said carefully not wanting to offend her. " I also don't even know who you are and if this is a ploy to kidnap my ass" I joked." oh shit sorry you're right! H, I'm Steph and here come my boyfriend Mitch" she waves someone over. "I heard street meat, " Said Mitch walks over and it's Just any Mitch. it's Mitch Marner --- holy shit.

"Street meat? Is this Marns new nickname or something?" An another voice joins. This voice being Auston Matthews.

I need more alcohol if I'm expected to act normal. I'm just standing wide-eyed.

"We actually talking about hot dogs actually" Steph corrects the tall hockey player with a teasing frown and a laugh.

"Yeah were gonna go grab some with our new friend here. You in?" Mitchell Marner says throwing his arm around his girlfriend.

"Sounds great. Hi, am Auston" his large hand goes for a handshake and I stare like it's a foreign object for a second too long before grasping his hand".

"Amelia" is all I could muster before Steph goes on about how rude she never asked for my name.

In seconds we were out of warmth and into the cold of Toronto going to get hot dogs.

NEXT

[melodramatic-glasses-character]

1.) what’s a song you depict with your childhood? - Free Bird, Lynrd Skynrd. My dad showed it to me when he found out I was learning electric guitar


2.) did you have a memorable childhood pet? - lovely lab/Doberman called Bella and a cat called Charlie


3.) have you ever been drunk? - many many times, amigos


4.) have you ever tried drugs? - I smoke weed pretty regularly (helps me sleep) and I tried Nos once at a friends house


5.) have you ever completely regretted what you’ve said? - so many times


6.) have you ever made someone cry? On occasion


7.) has someone ever made you cry? - only once, ever, since my dad left


8.) have you ever been in love? if so, describe the moment you knew it. - I’ve been in love so many times and each time has been different and varied and wonderful. I was thinking today that those first few months of being in love with someone are some of the best experiences life can offer


9.) which came first the chicken or the egg? - seriously? The fucking chicken


10.) are you part of the lgbtq+ community? do you support them? - I’m bisexual, but I don’t consider myself part of the community because apparently I’m ‘straight passing’ or ‘doing it for the attention’ and I’ve never been really accepted into that sphere (me being a Christian probably has something to do with that too) But I’ll always support them because nobody else fucking does in this world.

11.) how many siblings do you have? - two siblings, and a half sister who I never see


12.) have you ever been in love with someone you couldn’t love? - I’ve been in love with a lot of people. A few people that never got to show love to, and a few who I couldn’t love the way they needed me to


13.) are you a good cook? - I have a select few meals I can cook really well. The rest? Nah


14.) what is your favorite tv show? - at the moment, Brooklyn nine nine, but I also love sense8. I’m more of an anime man tho


15.) what is the last movie you cried during? - spirit stallion of the cimmoran, when I was four


16.) what are songs you’ve cried to when you first heard them? (if any) - nah, but the closest I’ve come was the first time I ever heard Crash Land by Twin Atlantic


17.) do you have a middle name? - two middle names, but I’m not about to share them here


18.) have you been out of your country? - yeah a few times. I LOVE ITALY


19.) are you a chocolate fan or not? - I can take or leave it?


20.) how many people have you kissed? - I have kissed a large number of people and I regret nothing. Kissing is great


21.) what is your favorite album? - that’s a very difficult question. Probably Wilder Mind by Mumford


22.) what is your dream car? - @luxury-pie a yellow 2010 Ferrari California


23.) what is your lucky/favorite number? - 8. Never known why, but 8 is my number


24.) what is your favorite flower? - I don’t really like specific flowers. Daisies are pretty tho


25.) books or movies, why? - books, because I don’t have the attention span for movies


26.) have you ever been on a blind date? - no, should I have?


27.) has one of your friends ever backstabbed you? - no, nothing serious or hurtful, but…


28.) have you ever backstabbed one of your friends? - I have. Brutally and awfully and I regret it so much


29.) what thing do you symbolize love with? - love is doing shit you couldn’t care less for gladly because you know it’ll make somebody else happy.


30.) do you have neat handwriting? - I have the fucking worst handwriting of anyone I know


31.) do you have a friend with benefits? - nah, although I have in the past and really enjoyed it. She’s great and we’re still really good friends and chat shit all the time


32.) do you want a friend with benefits? - not right now, I’m more than happy with my girlfriend


33.) if you could be anything in the world, what would you be? - happy and financially stable


34.) have you ever been blackout drunk? - I’ve lost memory while drunk, but never blacked out. This particular occasion I had a race down a line of Jaeger shots and woke up in bed with a friends hot sister. No memory of the night after the jaeger race tho


35.) have you ever met someone famous? - not mad famous no.


36.) how many concerts have you been to? - too many to count


37.) which concerts have you been to? - awesome ones


38.) do you have a hidden talent? - I have a great many talents but most people who know me know about them. For tumblrs benefit, I play nine instruments, write fiction relatively well, sing fairly well, and give really good head


39.) what do you do when you’re stressed? - panic. And smoke. And sometimes if I’m lucky, I smoke some weed


40.) do you think money can buy love? - money can’t buy shit that matters


41.) how old would you date? - maybe 25 rn? But I prefer a year either way


42.) have you ever done something illegal? - a fair chunk of illegal shit yeah. Particularly as a teenager


43.) what is your biggest fear? - becoming like my dad


44.) what is an unusual fear you have? - long ass tunnels


45.) can you drive? - not legally, no


46.) do you believe in supernatural creatures? - angels and shit. No fucking ghosts though


47.) do you believe in karma? - good comes around, but bad shit sometimes happens to good people


48.) what is one quality you need in your partner? - they should preferably like me


49.) do looks matter? - as an added bonus, certainly, but they’re nowhere near the most important thing


50.) does size matter? - no it fucking does not


51.) who is the last person you forgave? - truly forgave? Probably my dad. He’s the only person who’s ever wronged me enough to mean that it’s a conscious effort to forgive them.


52.) what is your favorite ice cream flavor? - cookie dough.


53.) what languages can you speak besides english? - none


54.) ever been on a plane? - yeah, I’ve flown a few planes too


55.) ever been on a boat? - yeah, but I prefer planes


56.) is there anyone you’ve lost touch with that you wish you hadn’t? - I’ve moved house so many times, so I’ve left a lot of people behind


57.) are there any friendships you regret? - no, no matter how they ended. Friendship, no matter how lasting or fleeting, is always a precious gift


58.) are there any friendships you wish you could make? - few of you guys in tumblr


59.) have you ever stayed awake for 24 (+) hours? I haven’t slept in the last 50 hours and I seriously need to


60.) have you ever walked outside after 12 am? - oh yeah, loads. I love night time


61.) have you ever seen a sunrise completely through? - yeah my girlfriend and I cycled two hours to the beach at three in the morning so we could watch the sunrise together at five


62.) are you scared of rollercoasters? - nah I enjoy them


63.) on a scale of 1-10 how stressed are you usually? - a solid 6.75


64.) do you have any plans this weekend? - working tbh. On the bar


65.) do you miss anyone right now? - I miss so many people. Right this second I miss @merryanustrench and @luxury-pie


66.) who do you wish you were talking to right now? - those guys. Or my dealer, tbh


67.) if you could have any superpower, what would it be? - insane jumping ability


68.) who is your favorite superhero? - someone from the incredibles


69.) are you dirty minded? - half of what I think is about sex


70.) what is your favorite song from every decade starting at that 80’s? Close to Me by the Cure, Lithium by Nirvana, Mr Brightside by the Killers, and I Really Like You by Carly Rae (those are just ones I like off the top of my head)


71.) how many kids, if any, do you want? - I’d want a few, but always figured I’d adopt as well as having my own


72.) who is your biggest OTP? - Tom Natsworthy and Hester Shaw from Mortal Engines


73.) what is your favorite food? - chicken marengo


74.) do you want to be married one day? - always have, always will


75.) dogs or cats? - both are amazing, but cats


76.) do you drink enough water daily? - fuck no


77.) have you ever seen a shooting star? - my first one was last year


78.) if you had the opportunity to go to the moon, would you? - nah can’t say I would, tbh


79.) how many best friends do you have? 2. One is my girlfriend, the other is called J and I love him to pieces


80.) when was the last time you cried? - only once since my dad left. Once in about six years


81.) have you ever laughed so hard you peed yourself? - nah never


82.) have you ever made anyone laugh so hard they peed? - yeah I have, a family member


83.) if you could travel any where in the world, where would you go? Canada, a log cabin in the wolves surrounded by wolves


84.) what are 3 words you would use to describe yourself? - not too great


85.) do you consider yourself a loyal person? - I used to. But I think I treasure the idea of loyalty, more than I do actual loyalty in practice.


86.) what is your favorite season and why? - spring. Spring brings the life back and helps me to light up my life when I’ve been depressed


87.) have you ever told anyone you loved them, and didn’t mean it? - yeah. Not proud of it, but I have


88.) do you know how to play any instruments? - like I said earlier, 9 instruments


89.) do like like falling asleep to music or not? - nah my brain analyses music too much. I like having anime playing so I can’t analyse what they’re saying, or I’ll play some mindless sports video game (NBA 2K) and that puts me to sleep


90.) what are you allergic to? - speaking in front of people


91.) have you ever wanted to be someone else for a day just so you could see what there life is like? - yeah all the time


92.) if you could be any character from your favorite tv show would you, and if so, who would you be? - I feel like Jake Peralta is already my spirit animal


93.) if you could be best friends with any celebrity who would it be and why? - probably Keane Reaves, because we’d mess with people and be super nice


94.) are you outgoing? - mentally I’m quite outgoing, but a lifetime of having a speech impediment means I get anxiety when I have to speak to people


95.) have you ever wanted to kiss someone, but weren’t brave enough to? - oh yeah, certainly when I was younger


96.) are you a good flirt? - nah I’m a fucking terrible flirt, it either turns into low level bullying or overly sexual shit with the subtlety of a freight train


97.) have you ever been turned down, or have you ever turned anyone down? - yeah I’ve been turned down. I’ve only ever turned one person down but she was an honest to God stalker so I don’t count that


98.) which planet is your favorite? - fucking Neptune, man! So pretty 
99.) are you superstitious? - nah, nothing beyond what’s normal culture (saying bless you after a sneeze and that)
100.) are you a good listener? - yeah I’ve been told that
101.) are you a good kisser - my dude, I am a FANTASTIC kisser and I dare you to test that
102.) would you kiss any of your friends - I would kiss SO MANY of my friends. In fact I’d kiss most of them. Almost all. If you’re friends with me, there’s a good chance I’d kiss you. In fact, if you’re friends with me irl, there’s a good chance you already have

Thanks for putting up with this overshare! I love doing these. I tag @luxury-pie @bemyrobin and @merryanustrench to do however many of these they feel like doing

[cloppyreads]

Dumb Fanfic Writer Reads Salty Comments

Hey guys, if you didn’t know, I’m a huge fan of the horrific YouTube series Filthy Frank, which I’ve only become really interested in over the past few months. One of the funniest series he does is “Loser Reads Hater Comments” which is pretty self-explanatory through the title itself. Whereas my last post about Pride was pretty composed, this time the filter is coming COMPLETELY off, so if you’re not a fan of me cussing and basically being a huge dick to the people who deserve it, then I’d just skip this post. Everyone else, jump down past the “read below” line

Alright motherfuckers, let’s get this shit-show on the road! We’ll start off with the main account, AO3, which is where I got a lot of the heat from in the first weekend of chapter 1 going up, but let’s take a look at the constructive criticism that the opposition felt the need to leave for me (and if you want to read the full comments section for yourself, here you go):

(You’re most-likely going to have to right-click the images and open them in another tab to be able to read them, since I’m putting this under the “read more” line. Sorry. :( ) 

First of all, don’t you love these types?  Hurrrr, the media is corrupt, man, they’re all trying to brainwash us with their poisonous broadcasts, I’m not gonna let them make me one of their SHEEPLE, illuminati confirmed!!1! Second of all, HOLY CRAP, you DIDN’T vote for Trump, and you’re STILL disagreeing with me!? Oh my god guys, we have such an open-minded individual, someone give this special snowflake a medal, STAT! Buddy, nobody gives a shit that you didn’t vote for Trump. Your voting choice doesn’t take away the butthurt that you’re projecting because I’m saying something you don’t like. I mean, I’m just speculating here, I could easily be wrong about this, but I’m gonna wager a guess through your comments that you didn’t vote for Hillary either, so that leaves you in three possible groups: 1) You didn’t vote at all, which means you don’t give a shit about your country, and you’re just as much to blame for every shitty decision Trump makes because you didn’t even TRY to stop it.  2) You were one of the 10,000 idiots who voted for Harambe, a dead gorilla. Not just a gorilla, an animal, who isn’t allowed to be president anyway, but a DEAD animal who isn’t allowed to be president. So there’s a strong possibility that you were one of the thousands of college students who were just barely old enough to vote, and were chuckling the entire time you waited in the voting line mumbling “lol memes xD” while avoiding eye contact with anyone more attractive than you (which is probably most people).  3) You voted for that libertarian guy who I can’t even remember- Johnson, something or other? I forget what his deal was, but he was basically an idiot. My brain probably did me a favor by purging him from my memory. 

Alright, let’s move on

Well guys, I don’t know how to fight this one; nobody in the history of the world has ever made a parody of a real person for satire and to entertain the people who don’t like that person. There’s no such thing as SNL or any other late night talk show who does this regularly for entertainment purposes.  I’m basically public enemy number 1 at this point, I’m shocked the FBI hasn’t knocked on my door because I made a caricature of Trump. But even if they do, I’m not going quietly. I’ve got a Walking Dead dart-shotgun that’s fully loaded and ready to pop some sticky darts onto people’s foreheads. #FUCK GUN CONTROL Seriously though, you want to cry about leftists burning buildings down because of political bullshit? Do you? Do you also want to cry about white sports fans who burn down cars and start riots when their team loses (or hell, even if they win)? You know who doesn’t cry about that? Fox News. Yeah, they just show a thirty second blip of it on TV and chalk it up to “some fans getting a little out of control” God forbid any of those fans have dark skin, otherwise they might get shot just for screaming too loud. 

what’s next?

WHEW LAD Okay, telling me that I need to adopt a “don’t ask don’t tell policy” about politics in MY writings, seriously? What country are you from, Korea? One of those countries where you’re required to suck your political leader’s dick every day or you get thrown in jail or worse, killed? Buddy, I said right in the first chapter there was gonna be political bias in this story; I didn’t say I was a political scientist and that I was writing this as a thesis for how our government needs to restructure itself (at this point, I think dismantling it completely might be better off; a Mad Max style anarchy or Walking Dead wasteland looks like an okay alternative right now), I wrote this story for entertainment purposes. Telling me this story is shit because the politics aren’t 100% accurate is the same kind of cringe that tumblr exhibited when they got mad at Zootopia because the staff designed Judy’s nose incorrectly, BIG FUCKING DEAL.  Oh, and the kicker, saying I created “a major divide in the audience” and warning me when “all hell breaks loose”.  Oh my god guys, I’m so scared! I think some terrorist organizations are gonna come after me because I wrote a fanfic that expressed my ideals! Shit! I better seclude myself in the Right-Wing protection room, I hope I have enough canned ravioli and lotion to survive their furious rage! D: 

Ooh, ouch, that cuts deep yo! What an educated response, just rubbing my face in it, oh god, how will I recover!?? Alright, well if you click on this guy’s name, you can see that he doesn’t have any stories on his account. If you google search his name though, you’ll find two things of interest that stand out: -He’s a League of Legends player (and it lists his stats there, but I don’t play this game; is he good? Is he trash? Someone who plays this game tell me, because I don’t give a shit enough to look it up). -He has an account on fanfiction.net which has ONE story, the Zootopian Empire. I’m not gonna waste my brain cells on reading any of the story, but just from the description, I’m gonna assume this guy has such a hard on for League that his manchild brain decided it’d be a good idea to write a Zootopia fanfic that basically has the characters from the movie stand in for the characters of the game. Is that what this is, Valhalla? You trying to be a writer by combining your favorite videogame with your favorite movie? Oh yeah, those always go over REAL well. “Oh my fucking god guys, I fucking love League, and I fucking love Zootopia! I’m gonna write a fanfic that combines both of them and I’ll just explode with popularity, because the idea is so good that IT SELLS ITSELF, I AM A FUCKING GENIUS!!” 

Alright that’s all for AO3′s side, let’s take a look at what angry manchildren on fanfiction.net had to say: 

Totally didn’t write a foreword in my first chapter warning people “this story contains political bias, don’t read it that bothers you”, nope, not at all.  Seriously, how do people like you get through life? Do you read a sign that says “water contains sharks, do not swim”, then jump right in and get mad when you see sharks coming after you? You’re obviously (barely) smart enough to read, so do you just willfully ignore warnings for the sole purpose of being an ass? Great use of your time there, I’m glad this small act of yours gave you the confidence you needed to keep going through life. :)

Sir, you seem to be coughing a whole lot. Are you okay? Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time with your head up your own ass, you wouldn’t be choking on your own shit; just a thought.  Anyway, yeah, you reading stories from National Enquirer about Hillary SUBTLE COUGH AND PRETENDING TO CHOKE WHILE I CORRECT MYSELF LAWL MALLORY and her secret emails doesn’t really convince me or anyone else with an above average IQ. I do find it funny however that people like you will take any mention of questionable emails from ANY source as unarguable truth, but when allegations of Trump THROAT CLEAR SHAKE OF HEAD HOLDING UP HANDS ROFL TRUNK HA HA being guilty of sexually assaulting women, you start saying “Hurrrrr, where’s your prooooof, where’s your sources, huuuuuuuuh!?”.  Ah, hypocrisy; smells of that ripe acrid smell of bullshit. Gotta love it. 

Now this... this one brought a tear to my eye. I mean, I know there’s war going on in the East, starving children in third-world countries and nations who have gone entirely bankrupt, but this... this is the most tragic thing I have ever heard.  A person living in a well-off global super power country has to... they have to... see and hear things that they don’t like! On TV! On the radio! On newspapers! And they can’t do anything about it! They can’t change the channel, or look up something on youtube or play a videogame to give themselves some entertainment to distract themselves from this minor inconvenience; NO. They have to sit there helpless and the thing they’re subjected to makes them slightly uncomfortable.  Guys... I’m sorry, I’m just so emotional right now, I need to go listen to Arms of the Angel and grieve for this poor soul living in a constant state of minor inconvenience. T___T

Fun fact: the part about the transgender thing is 100% wrong you dub fucking idiot, and unlike you, I have a source backing it.  According to the same source, apparently he doesn’t want them in the military either, so thanks for proving how stupid you are, bye bye. 

Oh hey guys, look, it’s Mr. “I’m gonna write a Zootopia fanfic that’s basically League of Legends with Zootopia characters.” AGAIN I don’t really have much to say about this, I just think it’s funny that the same guy had to show how NOT UPSET he is by commenting on the first chapter ON TWO DIFFERENT WEBSITES.  Good job sir, you sure are showing me the what-for’s and the business and stuff, I just can’t survive under your onslaught. 

So that’s all for the public comments on both websites, which means this little segment of mine SHOULD be over; but wait, there’s more! This one came really as a surprise to me, because I got it through a PM on FurAffinity, which I haven’t even published the story on (I kept meaning to, but, eh, lazy).  I’m not going to ask you to read this whole thing-- I seriously don’t want you guys to waste your precious brain cells on something like this, but I still felt like I at least had to show you a visual of it, just so you know that human beings like this are indeed real.  Without further ado, I present to you, the MacDaddy of butthurt manchild in its purest form:

I know that’s probably too small of font for most of you to read- like I said, don’t bother reading the whole thing, your IQ will probably drop by seven points- but that is a whopping twelve paragraphs of “I don’t like what you said, it hurt my feelings and made me more upset than any rational human being should feel over something so inconsequential”.

I’ll admit, I didn’t read the whole thing either, but just for fun, let’s go ahead and skim it and highlight a few parts of it: “ To make matters even worse, instead of providing a reasonable political commentary and giving both sides their fair share of flaws, you go into full-on Hillary Clinton fangirl mode, portraying Muleford's side through rose-tinted glasses while making Trunk and his supporters look like total lunatics. Officer McHorn, for example, is ridiculed for bringing up the email scandal, which is actually a real issue that the FBI themselves have exposed multiple times. “ blah blah blah, here’s some stuff I read from my favorite Republican news source... “ What makes this even more glaring is how obviously out of character Judy and Nick are here. They both uncharacteristically identify themselves as "progressives" who "embrace diversity in each other's species", have uncontrolled emotional breakdowns over election turnouts, and even go as far as to ditch their jobs as impartial protectors of the law in order to carry protest signs around during an organized event they should be patrolling.” Yeah, because you know, you, a fan who has no involvement with the creation of the canon movie, never collaborated with the directors or the staff or anyone working for Disney, has all the business in the world telling me what is and isn’t “out of character” for characters you didn’t create. Great logic there.  “ Speaking of which, what's up with all the blatant Donald Trump demonization? Yes, I get that you voted for Hillary Clinton, as you made that painfully obvious earlier, but that doesn't justify using Remus Trunk as an excuse to hate on Donald Trump. Whether you like it or not, he is our country's president, so the least you could do is be tasteful about it. There are better ways to go about tackling political issues than constantly calling a political caricature "bigoted"” Bro, how many people wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how much they hated Barack Obama when he was president? What if Hillary had won; would you take anyone seriously if they were telling you to show her some respect because she was the president, or would you be foaming at the mouth going “TRAITOR TRAITOR EMAILS PUT HER IN JAIL I AM UPSET AND INSECURE BLARRRRRGH!!!!”? Anyway, that’s all I care to read of that message, you get the idea-- people who either like Trump or like Hillary LESS than Trump all had to come pitch a fit and tell me how threatened they are that I expressed my opinion in a fucking fanfiction. Really great that these are the people who think the world is too PC and that everyone is too sensitive for their tastes, when they themselves get all butthurt when someone voices something that disagrees with them. 

So there you have it- my fanfiction pissed off a lot of idiots, and no shits were given. I just wanted to showcase this gallery because it was fun, and I hoped it was fun for some of you guys too. If you think this was petty and that I should have been the bigger man and just ignore them, you’re probably right, but I think being the bigger man is overrated. :) Petty for life! Whooo!

[obsessed-withthe-hales]

Meet The Family

50 Reason’s To Have Sex #15 -  You finally get the chance to show your childhood bed some action

Request: So for number 15, I was thinking that the childhood bed could be Derek's instead. He takes the reader to meet his mother for the first time (and also the rest of his family) and they end up staying for the weekend. They have to sleep in his old bedroom together (as the rest of the rooms are occupied) and on one of the nights there, things get heated, and... well... his bed gets some action and they end up breaking it and then he has to tell his mother about it in the morning.❤

Author’s Note: This idea is adorable and sexy and I just love it. It is sort of AU-ish...I didn’t really picture the Hales as werewolves for this one, rather just a close family. This is seriously a monster fic, guys. It totally got away from me. I really hope you like this one because I loved writing it! Let me know what you think, I always love feedback :) Enjoy!

Warnings: Language; smutty smut smut; awkward situations

Tags: @openly-panda​, @angels-secrets, @logancola, @wolfshifter4life, @palaiasaurus64, @lipstickstainsandwerewolfchains, @melanie451, @hardladyheart​, @noordinarymagic, @t0ribr0, @bubbles2416, @a-court-of-stydia, @palaiasaurus64, @iliketoimaginestuff, @wheresthekillswitch, @justdreamstars, @hattnco

*******************************************************************************************

“Sweetheart, it’s only one weekend,” Derek chuckled as he eyed my overstuffed suitcase. I sighed in exasperation, gnawing on my bottom lip.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure I was prepared for anything. You said that you’re family is really outdoorsey and can be spontaneous, and I don’t know what all we’ll be doing there, so I just wanted to make sure-” My anxious rambling was cut off by Derek’s hands on my arms, running up and down soothingly.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh,” he said, reaching up and cupping my chin in order to pry my eyes from the luggage. “It’s alright. Just relax, everything is going to be fine. They’ll love you, I promise.”

“But what if-”

“’But’ nothing. Now, come on. Let’s get the car loaded up and hit the road. Mom wants everyone there before dinner.”

The drive to Derek’s parents’ house was a few hours, but between napping and staring out the window at the early Autumn scenery, it didn’t feel nearly that long. When we pulled into the drive of a huge country home, my jaw nearly dropped. The property, especially the house, was gorgeous.

“This is where you grew up?” I asked in disbelief, whipping my head around to stare at my boyfriend wide-eyed. He just chuckled like it was nothing, throwing the SUV in park before turning it off.

Placing a quick kiss on my cheek, Derek hopped out and came around to open the door for me. After I stepped onto the dirt driveway, my feet didn’t move. I just couldn’t tear my eyes off the giant house in front of me, or my mind off of what, or rather who, waited inside. Derek lacing his calloused fingers through mine and giving a gentle squeeze brought me back. His green eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun as he smirked down at me.

“Ready to meet the family?” 

“I went inside for two seconds to grab the phone and the next thing I hear is Derek screaming from the yard,” his uncle, Peter, continued with his story as we all sat around the table, listening intently and trying to suppress laughter. “At first, I figured that he and Laura had just gotten into a fight and he was upset over that. So, I go out there and he’s laying on the ground clutching his arm, crying and wailing about how ‘superheroes are supposed to be able to fly!’”

Peter level his nephew with something between an amused look and a glare, a blush creeping up Derek’s face enough to be visible through his dark beard. The room had erupted into chuckles and I affectionately nudged his broad shoulder with my own as he glanced over and shook his head at me in denial.

“Well, they are!” Derek defended through his laughter. “Superman did it on TV, I thought I could, too. Besides, it wasn’t totally my fault. She helped me get to the top of the shed!” He pointed at his sister, earning a scoff.

“Hey, don’t try to avert the blame here,” Laura said, the corners of her mouth curved the slightest bit upwards. “It was all your idea in the first place.”

“Regardless,” Peter interjected, his fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “I got shit from your mom for months after that.” 

“Could you blame me?” Talia replied, her light laughter echoing in her words. “My son broke his arm on your watch! By jumping off of a building.”

“Needless to say, I wasn’t the primary babysitter after that.” Peter grinned over at me after he finished speaking. I smiled back, enjoying hearing their family stories. Especially the ones that embarrassed my boyfriend.

Everyone continued to reminisce and share, smaller conversations breaking off around the table. I sat back and tried to take it all in, the warmth, the closeness, the love that seemed to radiate from this family. From the moment Derek and I had walked in the door, they had been so welcoming and kind, making me feel like I’d been around forever, like I belonged there. 

His mother and sisters had taken an especial liking to me, something that shocked me in the best way. They were all so sweet and kind, not to mention hilarious, and more than willing to include me in their girl talk after shooing the men away from the kitchen. 

Truthfully, I hadn’t seen much of Derek since we arrived, aside from dinner. He had gone out with his father and several others to play some basketball while we had stayed inside to start getting the food ready. Talia was an amazing cook, even teaching me a few new tricks. She and her daughters had asked me questions about myself and about Derek and I’s relationship, getting to know me throughout the day. They had shared all kinds of details and stories about him growing up, much to my liking. His mother had even admitted that I was the first girl he had brought around in years, the only one she had ever heard him talk about so fondly and openly.

My heart nearly exploded at her words.

When Derek and the others had come inside after it was announced that dinner was almost ready, I had practically attacked him, not caring that he was sweaty and hot. Catching him in the hall with nobody around, I had gripped the front of his shirt tightly and slammed my lips onto his, the force making us stumble until his back hit the wall. Derek had been surprised at first, but soon recovered, pulling me into him and kissing back with just as much passion.

Once the need for air became too much, we broken apart breathlessly, bodies still molded together and chests heaving. He let out a low chuckle, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. 

“Well, hello to you, too,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. 

“Hi,” I whispered, smiling as I stared into those gorgeous green eyes.

“Don’t know what that was for, but I sure as hell wouldn’t complain if that was how you greeted me all the time.” The smirk on his face made me giggle as he leaned in for another kiss, only this time, we were interrupted by a voice calling down the stairs that another shower was open just before his dad appeared.

Derek and I jumped apart, trying to hide the flush in our cheeks. He looked between the two of us, giving a knowing look before clapping his son on the shoulder and heading toward the dining room. I looked at Derek once his father was out of sight, spluttering out a laugh at the situation. 

Leaning forward, Derek placed a sweet kiss to the top of my hair. Before pulling away, he bent to place his lips by my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine as he whispered a gruff, “We’ll finish this later” while one of his hands squeezed my ass for emphasis.

With that, he had walked off for a shower and, after taking a second to compose myself, I headed into the other room to help the set the table for dinner.

After everything was cleaned up, Peter and Derek’s father had started a bonfire in the backyard. His sisters had grabbed everything that was needed for s’mores and eagerly headed outside, Derek and I in tow.

It was a beautiful Fall night, the air just chilly enough that I pulled on a jacket. There were more stars visible overhead than I had ever seen before, completely stealing my attention. Chuckling at my preoccupation, Derek pulled me into his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist. Caught a bit off guard, I turned my head to quirk a brow at him, only earning a sweet smile in return.

“Wanna roast a marshmallow?” he asked, grabbing one of the sticks. I nodded and reached for the open bag, pulling out two. 

“Figured I’d be nice and do one for you, too.”

“Just don’t burn it,” he chuckled. My brows scrunched together in mock offense as I scoffed at his words. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Golden brown is perfect.”

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Derek replied with a wink and toothy smile, making my roll my eyes and grin at him before turning to put our marshmallows over the flames. 

After awhile, people began to excuse themselves, turning in for the night and heading back to the house. Through the course of the night, I had curled into Derek’s chest, watching the flames with half-lidded eyes and perfectly content to stay right where I was. But when I let out a yawn for the third time in 15 minutes, Derek announced that it was probably about time for us to head in, too. After saying goodnight to those who were still up, we walked back hand in hand.

My nightly routine completed, I packed my now dirty clothes back into my bag. Once that was done, I stood up and stretched, sighing in relief when my joints popped. With Derek in the bathroom, I took the opportunity while I was still alone look around the room.

Derek and I had been placed in his old childhood bedroom. As he claimed, it was ‘exactly how he left it’. There were a few posters up on his walls, mostly showing off sports cars, a bookcase filled for the most part with athletic trophies, but there was a row of books, too. A desk sat in one corner, a long dresser placed against one wall, and a bedside stand with an alarm clock and lamp on it completed the look. I smiled to myself, imagining a teenage Derek inhabiting this space.

Warm hands and soft lips broke me from my thoughts. Leaning back into the solid chest that I knew so well, I closed my eyes and let out a soft sigh. 

“I didn’t hear you come back,” I told him quietly.

“That’s because you’re easily distracted,” he joked, the words mumbled against my neck.

“Oh yeah? And what was I so distracted by?”

“Mmmm, probably all those trophies over there. Thinking about me being a star athlete.” A smirk made it’s way onto my lips.

“Or maybe I was busy wondering why there was a desk in here taking up space since I definitely can’t imagine you ever using that, mister star athlete,” I countered, earning a chuckle. Gently pulling away from his neck kisses, I turned in Derek’s arms, bringing my hands up to play with the little hairs at the base of his skull. He held my gaze, those green eyes boring into mine with such an adoring look that it nearly made me choke up.

The moment was broken, however, when Derek glanced over at the bed. The edges of his mouth quirked up as he studied it.

“I’m not sure I can still fit in that thing,” he stated. Scrunching my brows, I turned to look at it. The bed was a full. It may be a tight fit, but it should be more than fine. When I looked back at him to say as much, there was a playful smirk on his face. “Especially with you hogging all the space.” There it was. I slapped his chest lightly, making Derek laugh. 

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, pulling away from him and moving to crawl under the covers. 

“You love me,” he quipped, following my lead and switched the bedside lamp off. Settled in, I turned to look at my boyfriend, finding his green eyes in the darkness. With a small smile, I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips to his, the kiss tender and sweet. Derek happily returned it, one of his hands coming up to cup my cheek. It was flirty and playful, nothing too serious. Our legs tangled together as we moved closer to each other, both grinning through the mini makeout session we were having. 

Just barely breaking away, our mouths so close they were almost still touching, I couldn’t help but bite my lip to try and suppress the giggle that was building up in my throat. A curious look on his face, Derek pulled back a bit and asked what was so funny.

“How many girls have you made out with in this bed?” I asked.

“What?” he laughed, raising his eyebrows.

“You heard me,” I pressed playfully. “I’m curious.” 

“Okay,” he breathed. “Um...maybe three or four?” I gave him my really? look, earning a scoff. “Alright, fine. Including you, nine. Happy?”

“So, you weren’t only mister star athlete, but mister player, too, huh?” I joked, making Derek roll his eyes at me. Feeling daring, I pushed a little further.

“Ever get past first base?” His eyes darkened at my words, a hand sliding down to the small of my back and pulling my body flush to his. The atmosphere in the room had changed, suddenly feeling much more tense.

“A few times,” he answered, lips back to hovering over mine. I hummed in acknowledgement of his words, trying to collect myself before I continued.

“Ever fuck someone in this bed?” I asked, my words much quieter this time.

“Just once.” Derek rolled overtop of me, pressing his hips into mine. I gasped when his hard length rubbed against my core. “Right now.” 

I didn’t even have time to say anything before his mouth was on mine, hot and demanding. The kiss was passionate and consuming, our tongues sliding past each other, causing a slow burn to build inside of me. God, I was already aching for him.

Derek caught my bottom lip between his teeth, nipping with just the right amount of pressure and tugging in that way he knew drove me crazy. Both of us nearly panting, I looked up at him with a kinked brow and a smirk.

“So, I’m guessing you have other plans that don’t involve sleeping them?” Humming his confirmation, Derek leaned back down to start kissing a warm trail down my jaw and to my neck.

“I do believe,” he mumbled between kisses. “That we have something to finish.” He reached the top of my shirt as he finished speaking, glancing up at me while his hands slid under the fabric, pushing it up until it was bunched just under my breasts. Biting my lip to contain my noises, I watched with baited breath as Derek pressed slow kisses from my navel up until he reached the fabric once again.

Whimpering under his teasing, I moved my arms above my head, arching my back so that he would get rid of the damn thing already. Thankfully, he did, and once it was discarded somewhere on the floor, Derek’s mouth was on my nipple, sucking lightly while one of his hands cupped and squeezed the other, making me gasp. 

He lavished my breasts with attention, driving me totally wild. My panties were absolutely soaked, my pussy throbbing for him. I wiggled my hips in a poor attempt to find some friction, but it caught Derek’s attention because the next thing he did was kiss his way down my torso until he was hooking his fingers in the waistband of my shorts, sitting up to pull them off along with my ruined underwear. 

“Jesus, Y/N,” he breathed, eyes dilating at the sight of my drenched core. Not able to resist anymore, I reached up and pulled Derek down roughly into a sloppy kiss. My nails dug into his shoulders and he let out a groan, the hardness in his pajama pants twitching against my thigh.

“Der, please,” I whined. “Please touch me.” My voice sounded desperate and needy, but I didn’t care because, fuck, I was desperate and in need.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Derek whispered in my ear, his hand sliding down to cup my aching pussy. I moaned at his touch, but it was taken away before I could even enjoy it, his other hand covering my mouth. “You’ve gotta be quiet, babe. Can you do that for me?” I nodded my head vigorously, wanting nothing more than to feel him again. 

Without another word, Derek’s hand was back, his fingers running up and down my folds, circling my clit a few times before dipping down again only to push into me.

“Fuck, yes,” I breathed, throwing my head back into the pillows. Derek took the opportunity to attack my neck once more. His fingers sped up quickly, the heel of his palm rubbing just right against my clit to send me toward the edge in no time at all. Curling them just right, he quickly found the spot that drove me crazy. One of my hands flew down to grab his wrists, my hips bucking with his movements. “Yes, oh God- don’t stop!” 

“You gonna come on my fingers, Y/N? Hm?” Derek asked, his words practically a growl. 

“Yes- fuck!” Turning to bury my face in one of the pillows, my cry of pleasure was thankfully muffled as the orgasm crashed through my body, limbs trembling, back arching, walls clenching tightly around Derek’s fingers as they gradually slowed their movements before pulling out.

“Look so good when you come, baby,” Derek said quietly, positioning himself over my still recovering body after kicking off his bottoms. “Need to be inside you.”

“Please,” I whimpered, wanting desperately to feel him filling me up. I truly couldn’t care less at this point that we were in a house filled with his family, I just needed him to fuck me.

After running his head through my drenched folds, Derek pushed in to the hilt, leaning down to bury his face in the space where my neck meets my shoulder and let out a groan. He moved slowly, but purposefully, thrusting deeply in a way that had my mouth open in a silent scream. 

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I begged for Derek to move faster, harder. And my God, did he. Letting loose a primal growl, he snapped his hips forward. Then he did it again. And again. Reaching up to grab the headboard for support, Derek maintained his quick pace. The bed squeaked in protest, but all I cared about was the coil winding tighter and tighter in my stomach. 

A handful of thrusts and several chants of Derek’s name later, I was coming around him and biting down on his shoulder to contain my screams. I clung to him for dear life as the pleasure coursed through me, slowly subsiding until I could see straight again. Derek was only a couple of seconds behind me, his forehead falling against my own as we tried to catch our breath.

Moving to his side of the bed again, we each took a second, staring up at the ceiling and processing everything. That was some of the best sex we had ever had, and in his childhood bed no less. Finally shifting to my side so I could look at him, Derek met my eyes and we both broke out in huge smiles.

“Damn,” he said quietly, chuckling as I agreed. He reached over and pulled into a sweet, quick kiss before we settled into our usual sleeping position, his arm around me and my head on his chest. After a few second of silence, I spoke up.

“I do, you know.” My voice was small in the dark room. Looking up at Derek, he had a questioning expression. “Love you.” 

It took a few seconds, but once he remembered the transaction from earlier, his statement that I loved him despite being a dork, a soft smile broke out on his face.

“I love you, too, Y/N.” It was a sweet moment, an intimate and vulnerable one.

But it was interrupted by what sounded like the cracking of wood. Before either of us could react, the mattress suddenly dropped, the creaks of old springs echoing out along with Derek’s curse and my squeal.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grip tight around my body. We were both frozen in place, too afraid too move and wondering what the hell had just happened.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “You?”

“Mhm.” Carefully, very carefully, Derek shifted to stand up. There was the sound of more wood splitting, a few more creaks and groans, and then nothing. Pulling on his pants that he’d located on the floor and turning on the lamp, he helped me get up as well. I found my own clothes and threw them on as Derek inspected the damage.

“We broke the bed,” he murmured. “We broke the fucking bed.”

“Holy shit.” He gave a few nods of agreeance before sighing and running a hand through his hair.

“Well, looks like we’re taking the couch tonight.” Gathering some blankets and a pillow, I followed him downstairs in the dark, trying our best to be quiet. We made a quick bed on the couch and got comfy. Just as I was about to fall asleep, my body exhausted from all of the day’s (and night’s) activities, Derek’s voice caught my attention.

“Your hair smells like smoke from the fire,” he said, pausing before he spoke again, this time with a smirk evident in his tone. “And sex.”

With a snort, I playfully smacked his arm.

Sunlight assaulted my eyelids, making me groan and try to pull the blanket over my head. It felt like it was too early to get up. Plus, I was so warm, so comfortable, and I definitely did not want to move. 

Unfortunately, my boyfriend didn’t feel the same way. 

He grumbled as he started to wake up, letting out a yawn and stretching his arms. I tried my best to ignore his movements, but it was a small couch and I couldn’t escape. Opening my eyes with a huff, I glared up at him only to be met with a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” he rasped, his voice sending tendrils of arousal licking down my spine. Before I could say or do anything, though, another voice cut in.

“Good morning,” Talia said, entering the living room with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. She raised her brows at us. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well,” I supplied, sitting up and rubbing my eyes a bit.

“I can’t imagine it was too comfortable being cramped on that couch all night,” she replied. “Speaking of, why are you on the couch and not in your bed?” Derek and I instantly looked at each other, our faces going red. Running a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, Derek looked over at his mom with a sorry expression.

“About that...”

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Merciless

by Wardog

Wednesday, 16 September 2009

Wardog reviews Havemercy by Jaida Jones and Danielle Bennett~

And here I am with the ex-Harry Potter fanfic writers yet again. Havemercy is a fantasy novel, written by Jaida Jones and Danielle Bennett of Shoebox Project fame. It's basically Temeraire meets The Mirador and, well, it’s not entirely dreadful.

It’s set in the kingdom of Volstov, which is currently embroiled in a century-long war against the neighbouring Ke-Han Empire (who are the usual different-coloured, braid sporting fantasy ‘other’). Volstov’s greatest weapon is the mechanical, magic-infused dragons, which are powered from some kind of magical well and piloted by the Dragon Corp. The war, however, recedes into the background for most of the novel; instead we concentrate on the developing relationships between the four (yes, four) POV protagonists.

First up we have: Margrave Royston, a socialite-wizard, and a big gay, who has been exiled to the country for bumming the crown Prince. He is packed off to stay with his countrified brother and his brother’s horrid wife, and finds himself becoming friends with the quiet and scholarly tutor who has been charged with the education of the children. This is Hal, Protagonist II. Back in the capital, we have Rook, the worst of the Dragon Corp, who has recently involved them in a massive diplomatic scandal on account of treating an Ambassador’s wife like a whore. And finally Thom, an aspiring academic at the university, who is tasked with basically putting the Dragon Corp through sensitivity training as a consequence of Rook’s actions.

The focus is very much on character and relationships rather than, y’know, events. The war does kick it up a notch in the final third of the book and various things come together but it all feels a bit non-urgent to be honest, although the consequences of it are genuinely devastating (more on this later). I remember the first time I ever picked up a book by Sarah Monette and I was so impressed. “Wow,” I said (or words to this effect), “it’s wonderful to come across a fantasy writer capable of creating complex characters, and taking the time to develop them.” Unfortunately, I think it’s time for me to eat those words. I’d like some goddamn plotting please. To be fair, I think part of the problem is not that they’ve chosen to focus on character over action but that they’re basically not as good as Monette. I’m not saying Havemercy isn’t moderately competent and reasonably entertaining, it’s just also emotionally unconvincing and has a weird attitude to homosexuality.

The novel is told from the perspective of all four of its protagonists, which keeps things from dragging too much. There has been some attempt to differentiate their voices, Rook, for example, talks common (although, again, he comes off as a poor man’s Mildmay). And everybody else pretty much blends into sounding vaguely like Felix or, you know, possibly the authors. The effect of the four different points of view is generally positive and enlivening although I do think four was perhaps slightly too ambitious. And as much as it’s illuminating to have multiple perspectives on the same events occasionally it does lead to what feels like a tedious and self-indulgent dissection when you’d much rather be getting on with the … oh … what that’s word again … plot.

There are things to like about Havemercy. Steampunk dragons, for example, powered by the magic of eccentric magicians, you simply can’t go wrong with that. And I loved Havemercy herself:

“Just a spin,” I said. “Good,” said Havemercy. “I’m getting rusty.” “Shit,” I said, “you ain’t.” “Aren’t,” Havemercy said. “You common little fucker.”

She’s a nice antidote to swotty little Temeraire. And actually I quite liked Rook, who is the only character in the whole novel with any bollocks to speak of. And to give Jones and Bennett their due, they do a good job with the world building, weaving the history and the culture into the narrative without making it too oppressive.

However, there are a bunch of problems with Havemercy which reveal both the novel’s status as a debut and, perhaps, the youth of its authors. Spoilers ho.

Havemercy

She ain’t in it anywhere near enough. I know part of the deal with having a cool concept is that you don’t overplay it but, seriously, for a novel called Havemercy I could have done with a touch more dragon. Besides, as we can see above, when she is there she’s fabulous. As the war finally becomes marginally more important than the characters’ personal lives, the first major indication that something bad is in the offing is that the dragons start to act a little strangely and feel a trifle ‘off’ to their pilots. Now, I know the Dragon Corp are supposed to be an insular and closed off unit to which the reader has only mediated access but because the dragons aren’t really given enough page-time it’s next to impossible to engage, emotionally or intellectually, with the fact that they’re starting to go wrong. The dragons are off, are they? Well, uh, what were they like when they on? This also interferes with the climax – mad clockwork dragons charging towards their destruction or their salvation, it’s such a fantastic image but it has no depth to it because the dragons are basically scenery by this point anyway.

Sausage Party

There are no women in Havemercy, unless you count Havemercy herself. Oh, and a bunch of whores and a homophobic wife, of course. It must be the fandom-gene at work, because it’s obvious that Jones and Bennett are way more interested in pretty, angsty boys than they are in, well, anything else. Maybe I shouldn’t penalise them for this (at least they’re honest) but if a male writer wrote a book in which his only female characters were prostitutes, flirts or bigots I would hit the roof. Again, maybe it wouldn’t be such a problem if the fantasy genre didn’t have such an appalling history with female characters. History? What am I saying. Present. Also it genuinely does unbalance the book, what are women doing (apart from whoring and being homophobic) in the kingdom of Volstov? I think it might have helped the authors differentiate their voices and perspectives if one of them had perhaps been female.

Puerile Emotions

The characters are all of them saturated in angst, except, having read Monette, I can safely say it’s a kind of angst-lite, in which the characters moop and weep and put their wrist to their foreheads but ultimately it all feels a bit pointless. Take Hal and Royston. They fall for each other hard. They get caught in a rainstorm. They take shelter in a small hut. They are forced to remove all their clothes. To keep from, like, catching a mild chill or something. They have tension. They nearly kiss… but Royston decides he would be taking advantage of Hal if he did institute snoggage so they don’t. Basically their relationship goes something like this:

Royston: I am blatantly in love with you (sorry I have a silly name, by the way, I know it’s horrendously unattractive but we can work round it)

Hal: I am blatantly in love with you too.

Royston: Shall we shag like bunnies … wait … no! We cannot shag like bunnies because … because … look over there, a plot development.

Hal: But I want to shag like bunnies!

Royston: We cannot. Woe!

Hal: But why?

Royston. Because we cannot. Woe!

Hal: Woe! (I’m still a bit confused on this point)

Royston: Because I will be taking advantage of your innocence, dammit. Woe.

Hal: But I’m blatantly in love with you and I want to shag like bunnies.

Royston: But we cannot. Woe! Come away to the city with me.

Hal: But then I would have to abandon these people who are horrible to me and be happy. Woe!

Royston: You’re right, it’s a terrible and selfish thing to ask of you. Woe.

Hal: Oh, all right.

Royston Woe…err…what? Oh. Okay. Yay. Let us shag like bunnies … oh wait … we cannot shag like bunnies.

Hal: Why not this time?

Royston: Because … because … I only want to do it when you’re absolutely ready. Woe.

Hal: I’m fucking ready, I’ve been ready since page fucking 30.

Royston: Well, tough, I’m going to war. Woe!

Hal: Woe!

Royston: I am back from War.

Hal: Can we…

Royston: Well, now I am really ill and might die of a magical disease. Woe. Gosh, I wish we’d shagged like bunnies.

Hal: Me too.

Rosyton: Woe.

Hal: Woe.

Following a similar pattern, is the relationship between Rook and Thom. Rook hates Thom because … because … he does? And is generally bitter and heartless because his younger brother was tragically killed in a fire when he was but a Rookling. Thom, too, is carrying deep psychological wounds from the fact his older brother was tragically killed in a fire when he was…. Yeah. Zomg. I could cope with this Home and Away style plotting if hadn’t been so appallingly handled. Essentially Thom works it out first from something Rook says in a moment of vulnerability (Havemercy, of course, spotted it straight away because she is fabulous) and then … wait for it … decides not to tell him. Because … because … ?

There is no excuse for this kind of nonsense. Nobody in the novel seems remotely capable of behaving in a sensible, non-histrionic fashion or accepting other characters as adult human beings capable of making their own decisions. You can argue this is all part and parcel of their flaws but it seems more like authorial incompetence than human failing to me. And it makes Havemercy extremely irritating to read at times because I simply couldn’t respect the characters.

Teh Gay

So we’re getting more homosexual and bisexual characters in fantasy these days. I guess that’s a good thing. But with an increase in quantity, as ever, comes a decrease in quality. I think I’ve playfully remarked that it’s impossible for anybody even vaguely connected to the fandom to not have a gay in their books (I’ll forgive Erastes because she’s writing m/m romance), but there’s something horribly tokenistic about this parade of brand new, card carrying poofters. I’d better refine that slightly. It’s not that they are there to be token gays, but there is something about their homosexuality that feels tokenistic.

Take Royston and Hal. I seriously have no idea why these two are together. I mean, I know the principle – Royston is cynical and depressed after the unfortunate crown-prince-bumming-incident and is attracted to Hal’s gentleness and innocence, and Hal is desperate for knowledge of the world and somebody to be interested in him. It’s a typical innocent youth / man of the world pairing but it’s utterly utterly hollow. It’s all fluff, cuddles and celibacy. I’m not saying I want hot man-on-man action every other page, or even at all, but I felt no genuine sense of individual connection between them. It was more sort “hey, you have a cock, I like cocks, maybe we should think about having a relationship.” Also I don’t mean to be vulgar but the constant deferral of sexual gratification struck me as a bizarre way to endorse the merit of their relationship. It was like the authors were elevating one form of homosexuality (the pretty, celibate kind) above another (one that actually involves two men fucking each other).

Take this description of Hal, from Royston’s point of view:

I didn’t know who’d moved first to make it so, but quite suddenly he was tucked in close against my chest, warm and impossibly soft. Everything important about Hal was softness, I decided, his hair and his mouth, the sweet curve of his jaw, and the way it fit neatly into my palm.

What the hell?! Now, I’m no expert on what gay men think about the men they find attractive, but, seriously, soft? Soft?! To describe another man? I’m kind of assuming here that gay men fancy other men for pretty much the same reasons women fancy men … and, let me tell you, when I’m cuddling a man, or a kissing a man, I’m not thinking “gosh, isn’t he lovely and soft.” I’m not demanding chiselled and rippling masculinity here but there’s no way around the fact that ‘soft’ is a terrible word to use in conjunction with a man, especially if you are one. And, again, there’s something so flaccid and de-eroticised about the whole scene. For heaven’s sake ladies. Homosexuality is not an aesthetic.

It’s possible that I’m just too used to romances, heterosexual and homosexual, and therefore emotionally limp, sexually uninspiring and generally badly done romance arcs irritate me more than they should. But it doesn’t help that Hal is as wet as Fort William. He does occasionally make things happen, but mainly by crying at them. Weirdly, I do think I’d have found Hal less offensive if he’d been a woman. Not, I hasten to add, because I believe crying at things is more acceptable if you’re female, but because the “quiet governess / cynical lord” is a romance trope with hundreds of years of associations behind it, hopefully lending it some resonance even if the depiction of it is rather lacking. Pathetic guy and slightly less pathetic guy, not so much.

Furthermore, Havemercy suffers from an equally unsuccessful depiction of homophobia. The prevailing view of homosexuality is not really established – it seems to lie, rather like the present day in the real world, somewhere between widely accepted and generally reviled. Royston is exiled for his shenanigans with the Crown Prince, indicating a certain degree of political discomfort and there’s an amount of social sneering directed at him for his predilections. However, the only people who are openly homophobic are those we are supposed to view as ignorant (Rook) and/or repugnant (Royston’s brother’s wife). This leads to a peculiar implied social structure in which homosexuality is not completely approved but only evil people are homophobic. This is turn elevates homophobia to being basically morally equivalent to murder. Thank you self-consciously liberal, queer-positive fandom. Thank you. Ultimately, there is no denying that homophobia, sexism and racism are bad but there are plenty of perfectly nice, perfectly moral people out there who just happen to be, ‘a little bit racist’. As I think we’ve argued here at Fb on many an occasion, you do not get ‘isms’ by people waking up the morning and deciding to be prejudiced today. Again, I’m not saying the novel should have had more homophobia in it, I just think it should have more bollocks. And, regardless, it’s pretty irresponsible of Royston to “out” poor Hal (who, as we have already established is a basically homo-convenient) in a society that may judge him harshly for his sexuality.

Whedonesque

And I mean that as an insult. Again, massive, honking spoilers incoming. So, at the end of the novel they realise they can probably deal with the magic illness that is affecting Royston and the other magicians, and driving the dragons made, by taking out the magicians who cast the spell. Conveniently these magicians are standing around like NPCs in a big blue tower in the middle of the Ke-Han capital. So the dragon corp get on their now batshit dragons in a desperate attempt to tkill the magicians, save themselves and save the world. All the dragons and nearly all the dragon corp are killed. Except Rook, the one who might be gay, and the non-homophobic one, of course. In some respects, the fact I was genuinely shocked and upset by this says positive things about Jones’ and Bennett’s writing. On the other hand, it’s also a shot so fucking cheap it’s worthy of Mr Whedon himself. Kill Tara why don’t you. Kill Wash. But keep your main characters miraculously isolated from the slightest ill fortune as if the Almighty Plot Angel itself was watching over them.

Conclusion

I guess I’d better stop bitching and wrap this up. For all my criticisms, and let’s face it, there were many, I did kind of enjoy Havemercy, in spite of myself. It has some good ideas, even if they are somewhat buried beneath the layers of adolescent characterisation and gay-fetishisation.Themes:

Books

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Sci-fi / Fantasy

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Minority Warrior

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http://ruderetum.blogspot.com/

at 13:02 on 2009-09-17There seems to be an infestation of dragon riding books right about now, with all of these Eragon's and Temeraire's and what not. Personally, I've never really cared for that idea, especially if the dragons are supposed to be intelligent. In Harry Turtledove's Darkness series and George R. R. Martin's The Ice Dragon(at least in the short story) the dragons are not terribly intelligent or are quite alien (respectively). But in these other books the dragons are supposed to have personalities and to be intelligent.

So we have a large awesome magical beast which is awesome in its own right and then we have some whiny humans who control them. What! I mean, dragons can be good and all but the idea of an intelligent awesome creature being controlled consensually by some puny and usually whiny humans is not acceptable to me. Dragons might give the occasional lift to a human, but they are not horses people!

In other words some jerk using a dragon as a weapon and that dragon just getting along with the idea reduces their awesomeness into mere attributes to make the human characters cooler.

My other point concerns the high amounts af angst which seems to infest the genre as well. It connects to the point about this books' take on homophobia and in general coming out stories and such like. Now, it is clearly meant to make some aesop about how homophobia or such like things are bad, but if we have characters who are only defined by their narcissistic whining and their utterly frustrating behaviour because of this, we have a problem. The problem being that they are uninterestin characters.

I mean if the character being portrayed isn't a teenager(and an angst ridden teenager is a horrible cliche in itself) or clinically depressed then it just doesn't make any sense. It is strange that reading the Maus comic book for example contains very small amounts of angst from the main characters, even when they're put in Auschwitch for god's sake and on the other hand we have fictional "heroes" who can't do anything because things are so frigging bleak. I'm looking at you Mr. Potter.

End rant.

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Arthur B

at 13:51 on 2009-09-17

So we have a large awesome magical beast which is awesome in its own right and then we have some whiny humans who control them. What!

I do find this a bit jarring myself, and it only gets more jarring the more independently intelligent the dragons get. I seem to recall in the

Pern

books it kind of makes sense because the dragons aren't smart enough to just be told "go and destroy those space threads", they need telepathically linked human riders to steer them right. But if you've got dragons who are massive, powerful, and smart enough to follow a mission briefing and understand what they need to go do, one does begin to wonder what the point of having someone riding them is in the first place. Why stick a squishy vulnerable person atop a powerful war machine when the war machine is perfectly capable of doing the job itself? What on earth does the rider bring to the fight which the dragon doesn't bring in spades?

Which isn't to say that

Havemercy

doesn't have an answer to that - Kyra doesn't mention either way - but it is something people should probably think about when they're writing this sort of thing.

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http://ruderetum.blogspot.com/

at 14:26 on 2009-09-17The use of dragons as war machines and comparing them to bombers and fighters should really be examined and justified more completely if it appears that these 'machines' have real intelligence. I believe Michael Swanwicks' The Iron Dragons Daughter is one of the greatest successes when it comes to making this kind of thing work. The dragons are gigantic warmachines whose intelligence is like a magical artificial intelligence filled with hate, because they're war machines. So they need to be controlled by pilots or they would try to destroy everything. So there's actually a reason for the control. It's so sad that some pure badass creature would take orders from some squishy apes without being fordced to.

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Dan H

at 18:47 on 2009-09-17I'm with Arthur on this one. It's not that I find it degrading for dragons to have riders (I find it a little hard to get het up about the dignity of fictional beings, and I don't actually have a problem with the whole "bond between dragon and rider" thing) it's just that in a military context it makes no sense at all. It's like insisting that all of your soldiers go into battle with a small child on their back.

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Rami

at 19:00 on 2009-09-17Wow. Magical steampunk dragons. I really can't see how you could go wrong with that. Maybe you could have them run out of coal mid-flight and have the riders necessary as stokers, or something.

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http://ruderetum.blogspot.com/

at 20:15 on 2009-09-17Well, truth be told, I'm not much of a torch bearer for fictional beings' rights myself. I just get bugged about stuff and too often the cool image of dragons is just a cheap way of giving the central character(s) a cool accessory.

In this case, the dragons being mechanical, I suppose it's not really important. The cover blurp is incorrect though, steampunk magic dragons can be found in The Iron Dragons Daughter, which I mentioned before. It's a great idea though anyways.

Actually Dan, judging from your own writings that book by Swanwicks' could suit you. It's been described as an anti-fantasy and is its authors reaction to run-of-the mill trilogies and such. Plus it's a changeling story, with a magical society run by amoral elves, which is pure cutthroat capitalism and rule of the strong.

An example is that when a citys' and its universitys' costs and population gets too high, they(it's emblematic of the story that who they are is left intentionally unclear) initiate a Tenism, which means that in carnivalistic time of chaos one tenth of the population is handily destroyed. The strong and the rich are supposed to survive. Well, it's at least different I suppose.

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http://miss-morland.livejournal.com/

at 15:55 on 2009-09-18

Everything important about Hal was softness, I decided, his hair and his mouth, the sweet curve of his jaw, and the way it fit neatly into my palm.

Blergh. This is the sort of weirdness you'll find in a lot of slash fanfic, and which contributes to giving the genre as a whole a bad reputation. I'm so glad I've never bothered to read The Shoebox Project...

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Wardog

at 16:26 on 2009-09-18

Blergh

Thank you. I read that description and I felt exactly the same way. But I thought perhaps too much hypermasculinity had warped my sense of romance. I feel vindicated in my blergh now.

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Arthur B

at 18:45 on 2009-09-18The jaw bit seems particularly weird. Jawbones are not, by and large, especially soft, and jaws by extension tend not to be soft unless they have a fair amount of padding. Heck, I'm a fat bastard and I still don't have enough fat in my face that you could really describe my jaw as soft to the touch.

The mental images conjured are bizarre. Either Hal has some sort of horrible bone-melting disease and has to eat through a straw, or he's an extremely chubby guy whose jowly jaws and double chin fit neatly into Royston's hand.

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http://miss-morland.livejournal.com/

at 19:20 on 2009-09-18

he's an extremely chubby guy whose jowly jaws and double chin fit neatly into Royston's hand.

Lol! What a romantic image. :-D

But really -- I don't mean to sound condescending or anything, but I do wonder a little how much these authors actually know about the male physique, because realistically I'd expect there to be some stubble, at least. Not all this 'softness'. But perhaps gay men don't have facial hair? *eyeroll*

In fact, I get the impression they think gay men are completely different from straight men, both mentally and physically, which I find offensive -- it's not so much that I have a problem with male characters crying; it's rather that I have a problem with male

gay

characters crying, because I'm 100 % certain the author wouldn't portray a straight male character that way.

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http://miss-morland.livejournal.com/

at 19:46 on 2009-09-18Oh, and I should add that I haven't read

Havemercy

, I'm just speaking about bad slashfic in general.

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Dan H

at 21:27 on 2009-09-18The "gay man = woman" (or possibly "alien") thing is particularly disquieting, if only for its popularity amongst people who would never in a million years think of themselves as homophobes.

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Arthur B

at 22:45 on 2009-09-18We have people riding dragons, we have weird attitudes towards homosexuality... I don't think there's ever going to be a better time to cough and note that

Anne McCaffrey

has some interesting ideas about tent pegs.

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http://descrime.livejournal.com/

at 03:05 on 2009-09-19My impression of slash fanfiction is that there are two kinds of slash writers: writers whose characters like they like to write about just happen to be guys, and writers whose characters they like to write about happen to be guys because they hate writing women. I once took part in an online discussion where women seriously complained that it wasn't their fault they just wrote women completely out of their stories, it was simply too hard to write female characters. And they saw nothing wrong with this. From this review (I haven't read the book), it seems these authors fall in the latter category.

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Viorica

at 05:16 on 2009-09-19I think it's also a form of emotional porn/Mary Sue syndrome. There's a reason fangirls swoon over angst.

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Dan H

at 20:36 on 2009-09-20It's one of those difficult situations where you *almost* have to stand up and say "well fair play to them then". I mean it seems that what you've got here are a couple of girls who are mostly interested in pretty men angsting about stuff and who write exactly that. You've almost got to admire the honesty.

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Wardog

at 23:12 on 2009-09-20@Dan - Yeah, I know what you mean about the honesty. But ultimately I think I'd be kicking up a fuss if a male writer did it so I feel morally obliged to kick up a fuss if female writers do :)

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Arthur B

at 01:58 on 2009-09-21I think the difficulty is the inclusion of the homophobia angle; by introducing what is essentially a RL issue into their story about pretty unthreatening men having pretty unthreatening relationships, they are kind of inviting people to compare said pretty unthreatening homosexuals to actual flesh and blood homosexuals. And asking the reader to compare your fantasies to reality is not a game that ever ends well.

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http://roisindubh211.livejournal.com/

at 02:07 on 2009-09-28I actually find it odd that they did such a silly job with the romance in this, because they wrote much more believable boys in the Shoebox project:

Sirius makes a noise that's kind of a laugh and kind of a groan and then presses his lips against Remus' without any warning. Or with ample warning that Remus is only just now beginning to decode. He hasn't shaved and his hands are sweaty and there are teeth in there, and it is not much at all like kissing Lily except that kisses, Remus has learned, are wet, nervous, compelling, terrifying things. He makes a sound. Sirius jerks away. "Let's never mention this again," Sirius decides out loud, leaping to his feet, as if he's been electrocuted. "Shall we?" "Uh," Remus says.

I'm wondering now how much of the quality in the Project has to do with the pre-existing characters.

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Dan H

at 10:36 on 2009-09-28I'd imagine pre-existing characters are a big part of it. It takes pretty much no effort at all to make a relationship between two characters convincing if everybody is *already* convinced those two characters are at it doggy-style.

There's very little, for example, in the passage you quote that tells us why these two people are attracted to each other beyond the fact that they're Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

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Arthur B

at 16:39 on 2009-09-28This would, in fact, seem to one of the dangers inherent in using fanfiction to develop your writing talents: because someone else has done all the heavy lifting of establishing the characters for you, there's far less need to actually develop your skills on that front.

It's slightly less true of setting, because you get weird alternate universe fanfics which play merry hell with the setting - or indeed ditch it entirely and populate an entirely new world with the same characters - but the fanfic scene does seem to be all about the familiar characters. Even when the occasional original character creeps in, it's considered bad form (and indeed textbook Mary Sueism) to let them upstage the established characters, and you don't see many people writing alternate universe fanfic where the setting is the same but all the characters are different.

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Dan H

at 18:48 on 2009-09-28To be fair to fandom, there's a sense in which working with pre-existing characters can actually help sharpen your mad characterization skillz. You can talk about "voice" all you like, but in the end one of the best ways to really understand how the whole thing works is to look at something and say "yes, but would Severus Snape really *say* that?"

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Arthur B

at 19:17 on 2009-09-28It can help there, sure, but that sort of exercise does nothing to help you establish "Who is this Snape person?" in the first place, which is the aspect I think people can neglect. As you point out, you can get away with not explaining who Snape is in fanfic, you can't get away with not explaining who Royston is if you're introducing him to people for the very first time.

Essentially, it can help you understand voice, and how to write in particular voices, but those skills are at best ancillary to the skill of coming up with distinctive voices for your characters in the first place. Hence Cassie Cla(i)re and the mysteriously Malfoylike qualities of certain of her characters.

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http://roisindubh211.livejournal.com/

at 01:53 on 2009-09-29They do make them believably attracted to each other throughout the Project, I just chose that segment to contrast with the "Hal is so soft and delicate" bits from Havemercy. I think they would have done better to write about teenage boys in a "semirealistic" setting (I can't believe I just called the Potterverse semirealistic- I guess I mean contemporary with or without magic tacked on).

They do a good job with characters we don't really see in the books -Pettigrew, for instance- you almost get why he'd fall in with the DE crowd and his motivations there- and also they manage to write James as a

likable

jerk, which is not the easiest thing to pull off.

Mostly, I mean that they can write boys who are goofy and dorky and shy and pull pranks on each other, and who like each other, without getting taken over by teh gay like poor Hal (and, to be honest, a hell of a lot of slash fanfic)

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Wardog

at 12:22 on 2009-10-05I just wanted to say, I like the bit you quoted and I see why you quoted it. I think the fandom/not-fandom thing is, for this, largely irrelevant - the point is it shows them having something like a clue. I can only presume they threw said clue out of the window when they came to write Havemercy. I don't know how could they could from this quite harsh, quite 'realistic' depication of a clumsy boykiss to soft melting girly Hal.

Seriously, ladies, what the hell happened to you?

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valse de la lune

at 12:26 on 2011-12-08Necroing this to note: the things you've said about slash and fandom here would have gotten you absolutely

eviscerated

in some circles and, probably, called a raging misogynist or something. Slash fandom has become this weird sacred cow thing to some social-justice types. It's bizarre and also reminds me that, in my flailing desperation to seek out more lesbian representation, all the attention is always given to the hot gay boys--consider the Rachel Manija Brown thing and the "say yes to gay in YA." All of which always made me comfortable too because, uhm, we're still raising a big giant fuss about a couple of straight white ladies who wrote this gay Asian--Japanese?--boy. Wow gosh, they are so brave! Deepa D.

expressed her misgivings

better than I could. tl;dr even if I don't think much of her writing on a technical level, Malinda Lo's Asian lesbian girls > this crap by an order of magnitude of fifty thousand.

but there’s something horribly tokenistic about this parade of brand new, card carrying poofters. I’d better refine that slightly. It’s not that they are there to be token gays, but there is something about their homosexuality that feels tokenistic.

That seems to be a thing which plagues pretty much all former HP fanfic authors who "graduated" to writing YA. And, well, there's probably a reason the YA reader/writer subset is so strangely insular and so very, very like fandom.

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Wardog

at 14:39 on 2011-12-10Yes, I'm slightly more aware of the discussions / context of the role of homosexuality in fandom these days so I might express myself a little better ... but I do kind of stand by my comments. And although I'd rather people didn't come and bite my face off and make me sad ... well ... yeah. It's just everything about the portrayal of a gay relationship in Havemercy brings me out in HIVES.

As I'm sure we've discussed before I have no problems with people getting off on hot (potentially not very dudely) guys sexing each other up - but when you claim that's *representation* then it's *appropriative*.

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valse de la lune

at 18:09 on 2011-12-12No, I agree with you and don't mean to bite your face off by any means!

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Wardog

at 18:45 on 2011-12-12Hehe, not you! I meant an angry fandom complaining about me impugning them :)