#really make Fantastic stick out in an unfitting kind of way

[scratxhed-cd]

now that the excitement from the new-ness has worn off I can admit “Fantastic” is the most out of place song in all of season 2 and it hasn’t stopped bugging me since

[kodzumie-archived]

OMGOMGOMGOKOKOK SOOO CAN I ask for a gentle vampire komaeda who has a crush on a very apprehensive and easily scared fragile girl who’s kind of scared of him at first but then after seeing how kind and soft he is, eventually comes around to like him? Also, he protects her bc vampires are vv strong 🥺 THANK YOU ILY DUDE <3

❝SERENDIPITY❞

Synopsis; Against the unruly clutches of chance, could the blossoming of a bond between two fundamentally forbidden species piece itself together?

Featuring; Nagito Komaeda x Fem! Reader

Warning(s); Vampire Komaeda, blood, alternate universe (AU), injury description, slight gore, and themes of predator/prey.

Kodzumie’s Note; This was so fun to do! Thank you so much, dear, for the request! Aah, vampire Komaeda is forever welcome on this blog. Thank you for bringing this idea to life, I love you so much!! Muah, muah! <3

➤ NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ The inception of adoration is an enigma. A blossoming of a passion so seemingly fantastical, yet ever-so ontological. Love―in its most bare form―is unpredictable.

⤷ You’re meek; the glorious crumb of bread dropped in a fish pond. But life is much more unforgiving to those who are unfit for the calamities of the world. Reflecting upon existence in a metaphorical sense, that fish pond could only wishfully have been inhabited by mere Koi, but rather barbarous piranhas.

⤷ In this bitter life, the chains abide only by those who are fit for survival. A population divided into two―humans and vampires―you’ve been subjected to the former; necessitating hospitality and the protection of another.

⤷ If not by mere chance, you’d have met your doom inevitably. It’s alarming; your fate cradled by the clutches of chance itself. But, as cruel as life proves itself to be, you harbor no command over your own providence.

⤷ And chance, as it has instilled within you relentlessly, prefers to plays it’s promiscuous games unfairly. Which you are reminded of once more as you find yourself cornered. Yet again, you are the helpless prey.

⤷ Your heart pulsates; a beating that rings amongst your ears almost deafeningly. The sound nearly drowning out the malevolent growls of the vampires seeking victuals of whichever foolish, helpless victim to feed upon. If only the thumping of your heart could drown the tantalizing realization that you are the pathetic victim.

⤷ In the mere blink of an eye, eclipsed figures sprint towards you. Hauntingly, their footprints seemingly inaudible as though they were flying. But if only you’d known better. You were human; weak and delicate. Whatever fragmentations of survival chance had provided seemed void in that instance.

⤷ Even by the grace of your legs carrying you as fast as they could possibly go, the odds were tauntingly against you. Granted, you likely wouldn’t even have time to accept the bitter reality of your predicament; you weren’t going to make it out of this alive.

⤷ Your breathing is erratic; uneven and forced out in puffs of desperation. But there’s a will within you. Though the poignant truth encapsulates your hope in shackles, you continue to fight. For every breath you take, you push yourself to run faster, dodge the clawed hands reaching for your feeble body, and to do whatever it takes to survive. 

⤷ It’s a humane instinct; to fight for a continuous existence despite fate’s stamp of undeniable death. You were steadily approaching your due date, and predictably by the end of the night, you’d be nothing more than the feed of the pack of vampires.

⤷ After a sharp turn, jabbing your heel into the ground as you whirl your body to turn; the air resistance inducing your eyes to clamp shut. It was a turn too fast for your body to handle, stumbling forward sporadically, but it was enough to throw the famished vampires off of your tail, even momentarily.

⤷ Run, run, run! Dumbified by the desolate venom of oncoming death, you leap forward, narrowly avoiding what would’ve been a climatic fault; tripping over the thick roots of an unforgiving oak tree.

⤷ The night air in which you once believed was refreshing and serene now plagued with the tang of your own demise. It’s suffocating; feeling fear for your life and yet unable to provide some sort of protection for yourself. You were cowardly, and you were weak. Yet in this bitter life, the chains abide only by those who are fit for survival.

⤷ And life doesn’t make exceptions for anyone. You, just as much as anyone who finds their fate at the mercy of chance, were no exception to its cruel deduction as a pair of arms envelope your form.

⤷ At long last, the chase has concluded. Of all nights you’d spent tossing and turning in a pitiful attempt to subdue the remanence of a nightmare―a lucid illusion of your innermost fears―nothing of that caliber could begin to compare to the piquant dread settling within you. You’ve been caught.

⤷ But even as the sinking anxiety pricks at your delicate heart, the tendrils of terror stabbing into your mind, you thrash. Kicking and scream, you fight against the figure engulfing your form, pressing your back against their abnormally cold front.

⤷ You, yourself, weren’t quite aware of why you kept insisting on resistance. Perhaps it was the hope residing within you; the hope that there’s even the slimmest of probabilities that you’d find a way out. Or perhaps that, itself, was the naked core of the human will.

⤷ Sobs tear through your throat, ripping your vocal cords raw as you screamed for help. Your desperate pleas for somebody―anybody―to help you. But even if they managed to hear you, who would be dumb enough to put their own life at risk for the sake of yours?

⤷ Such is life; we live, and we die. Those who are unable to fend for themselves are sacrificed to the grip of gravel as their corpses rot amongst the cycles of parasitism; cells feed upon your body until you’re nothing more than a husk of what once human; what was once alive.

⤷ Yet, even as you thrash and cry, begging for some sort of escape to the Hell you’ve been forced to witness and endure, you find that as moments pass, the anticipated pain of claws tearing into your plush skin as teeth sink into the conjunction of your neck never come.

⤷ You should be wary, you should expect for life to expose its cruel, ugly face to you in its hideous nudity. But such is the fragile mind of someone as meek as you; truly, you were what the world deemed as unfit for existence. You believed what embodied the hope towards a unified tomorrow. And that, in itself, was fatal.

⤷ As you calmed your body, easing the subtle tremors, you crane your head to meet eyes with your captor. Ghostly green hues interlock with yours as you gulp. It’s a man, an alarmingly paled young man.

⤷ His skin powdered in thin layers of dirt as he reciprocates your fearful gaze with a gentle grin. Features ever-so delicate you almost assumed that the mere flick against the plush would result in scarring. He was gentle and, at that moment, you felt as though you could trust him.

⤷ But trust is fatal in this world. And as you meet eyes with him, you finally push away with a shove of your shoulder against his throat. He chokes momentarily as you stumble back, albeit tripping over your own feet and landing on your rear.

⤷ Could it be that he’d come to aid you? Could it be that for once in the hauntings of this unforgiving world, you were provided with a temporary protector?

⤷ No. You’d be a fool to believe such audacious hospitality from the likes of what had damned you to such a corrupt fate; caught amidst a forest of brambles and blood-thirsty monsters, seeking to drink upon your viscous fluids.

⤷ As you continue to meet eyes with the boy, you manage to stutter a question that rang much too loudly for your liking. Yet you needed to stay assertive. One crack in your visage and you life would be taken before you could even comprehend it yourself. Who are you?

⤷ Truthfully, you didn’t even know if he’d muster a genuine reply. For all you knew, he could leave you with a cold shoulder and put an end to your miserable life. But, much to your surprise, he manages to croak out a choked answer; “I’m Nagito Komaeda.”

⤷ Though as soon as his name escapes from his lips, he shrinks his gaze away as he bows to you. A gesture that startled you as you quickly realized who he was. Or rather, what he was.

⤷ As he voiced his name, baritone voice resonating against the hollow oak, his fangs barely showcased themselves from within the caverns of his mouth. You, really and truly, were in a predicament. And one that would seemingly result at the end of your life; an unfathomable death.

⤷ He lifts his head as you shriek, finding your figure to be rapidly crawling away from his in desperation. There was no way in Hell you were going to stick around if it meant being in the presence of the one who―you were certain of―would take it upon themselves to feed on you.

⤷ “H-Hey, where are you going?” He questions, beginning to pace after you. How belittling. His jog was quick enough to synchronize with your frantic crawls. You stood no chance. You were at his mercy.

⤷ Lifting your head once more, a frustrating cry escapes. “You’re one of them!” Your tone sharp despite your countenance openly conveying your vulnerability. Even to him, it was blatantly clear that you’d dubbed your fate as under the terrorizing control of his will.

⤷ “I don’t mean any harm to you.” He admits. His voice a mere whisper amongst the chirping of the nocturnal melody the crickets sang. Ghostly green orbs glossed with earnest intentions as he respectfully kneeled before you, holding his hand out towards you.

⤷ It’s strange. This―in every way imaginable―was abnormal. A taboo, even. His lips curled into a smile that genuinely expressed his yearning to assist you was wrong; it shattered every miserable rule this corrupted cycle of life instilled.

⤷ And yet you still place your hand within his, allowing him to help you up to your feet. He even went as far as to pat down the front of your garments, ridding you of the accumulated dirt from your attempted escape. It unnerved you. Why is he acting as though he truly wants to help you?

⤷ “You were running away from a pact of vampires, weren’t you?” He asks, stepping away from you. The space allowing you personal room to breath yet enough closeness to ensure you’re within arms-reach. With a shaky nod of your head, you agree to his inquiries.

⤷ Yet you’re still cautious. He’s a vampire, he’ll easily be able to overpower you and strip you of your life, leaving you with the travesty of what you fear would only be momentary trust.

⤷ “Why are you helping me?” It’s a direct question, and one you prayed he wouldn’t dodge. You had to know; you needed to know. But were you truly prepared for the truth? Were you prepared to hear what the embodiment of your fate had to say over your very own survival? A confirmation of your death?

⤷ You almost managed to interrupt him and admit you don’t want to know, but he beats you to it. Truthfully, it takes a moment to register. You almost don’t believe it, but the haunting vivid reality of his lips moving as each word escaped his lips leads you to believe that it’s real.

⤷ “I couldn’t sit back and allow someone so hope-filled to be mauled by the obscene, hideous hunger of despair. I want to help you. I want you to survive.”

⤷ With a dazed mind, you begin to question whether or not you’d managed to hit your head previously. Was this an illusion? It’s against the principles of this perpetually miserable world to allow unity between the two ruptures of the population; vampires and humans.

⤷ But it was real, real, real. The ontological sensation of his hand cradling yours as he helped you up, that was real. His arms encapsulating you as he put a halt to your sprints of flee, that was real. This entire situation was so hauntingly real. Yet how could he insist on something so unworldly?

⤷ Though you weren’t allowed to voice your perplexed distrust as he ever-so gently takes your hand within his once more. The soft, alarmingly cold skin of his hand figuratively melting against yours; in which your body regulated to remain at a forgivable body temperature.

⤷ He tugs your hand to signal for you to follow him, his eyes glistening with the reflection of the moon as he smiles. The curling of his lips oozing with a foreign sincerity you’d never have guessed to be found from someone like him; someone you’d predicted would be the death of you.

⤷ “Come on, I know a place where you can hide. They’re not going to find you there, I promise.” It’s a voiced assurance; a promise of your survival. Or, at the very least, for your protection.

⤷ But did you really have any option other than to rely on him? Rejecting his offer could insinuate a possible rage and result in his teeth sinking into your flesh. Yet abiding could, too, result in the findings of your hideout and fatally subject you to the mauling of multiple slobbering, fanged mouths.

⤷ You nod, deciding to agree. “O-Okay.” It was faint, but induced the softening of his gaze as a breathy chuckle escaped him.

⤷ “It’s not the best place around, but it’s the most scum like me could find. Sorry I can’t give you anything more adequate.” He apologized. It was a charming apology, yet unnecessary. Truly, you’d have never expected him to provide a location for you to seek shelter within.

⤷ “No, it’s fine...” You trail off, eyes narrowing on your intertwined hands. He was abnormally cold, yet you still seemed to feel strangely warm. A flurry of fondness smothering your chest as you suppressed an oncoming smile, finally tearing your gaze away from your joint hands.

⤷ “Thank you, Nagito.” Amidst the crescendo of nocturnal chirping and the gust of the nightly breeze, you voice a mere echo. Yet it still is audible and resonates within the pointed ears of your fanged potential ally.

⤷ He turns to you with a momentary visage of bewilderment. It seems that he, too, is susceptible to shock despite the loops of flummox he’s thrown you in for the night.

⤷ After a moment, his confusion melts into his fond smile that you’ve rapidly grown fond of. This meeting, by all odds, was due to the clutches of unapologetic chance. As he squeezes your hand within his, you’re reminded that this is inexplicably irredeemable.

⤷ Hand-in-hand, the two of you fragment the shackles of taboo; the perpetual division of your diverse species. It’s by chance that a vampire has taken it upon themself to assist a human. And it’s by chance that what life’s fundaments deem an impossible allegiance is the blossoming of your potential bond.

⤷ But there’s a chance―an undoubtable hope―that a unified future between the two unaligned. It’s a slim probability. But when has life―when has chance―ever proven itself to be fair?

[afreesworn]

Character Survey: Nabi Kharlu

RULES.  Repost, Don’t reblog! Tag  10! Good  luck!

TAGGED BY. @vysaldhe Thank you!

TAGGING. I’ve seen this go around so who hasn’t done it? @anchor-management! @shaelstormchild!! @jaliqai-and-company!!! @sentryandco?? @mirkemenagerie @trc-xiv @finishing-touch @ember-arrow @fatewalker @andarion @jancisstuff @gegenji @shadottie @zhauric @herd-of-halla (I’m sorry if you have already done this!) and anyone else who wants to!

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :  Nabi Kharlu

NICKNAME :  None that seems to stick since her mother died.

AGE :  In her 20s.

BIRTHDAY :  Summer

ETHNIC  GROUP :  Au Ra, Xaela

NATIONALITY :  Of the Kharlu Tribe

LANGUAGE / S :  Common, Xaela, Hingan

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :  Heterosexual

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Heteromantic

RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :  In a relationship with Anchor Saltborn

HOME  TOWN / AREA :  Born in the Steppe

CURRENT  HOME :  Shares an apartment in Shirogane

PROFESSION :  Herbalist, Alchemist, Healer

PHYSICAL.

HAIR :  Raven black hair that she keeps short and cropped near her chin

EYES : Warm gold

FACE : Sun-kissed complexion, soft features, usually with a look of welcome or curiosity.

LIPS : Smiles easily.

BLEMISHES :  None on the face.

SCARS :  Sometimes a few scrapes and bumps, but she is without any significant scars that would have resulted from any serious wound or trauma.

TATTOOS :  An ornate mark on her right back shoulder area.

HEIGHT :   On the short side for a Xaela.

WEIGHT :  On the thin side.

BUILD : Soft, although not unfit since she likes the outdoors, but she is by no means athletic.

FEATURES :  She has youthful features, with bright eyes that are most notable. Her usual cheerful outlook softens her countenance almost always.

ALLERGIES :  None that she’s aware of yet.

USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  Trimmed around her jawline so it is easily tucked away, but left free and loose otherwise. 

USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  She can be intently studying an herb, pouring through books about alchemy, focusing on mending wounds, or happily chatting up with whatever customer that happens to find their way to her stall or clinic. Her general mood is usually buoyant and welcoming, although there is a certain softness that can be spotted around those she is close to.

USUAL  CLOTHING :  Varies between traditional Hingan fare to woven robes favored in the Steppe. Has a few traveling clothes that are neither, usually a loose comfortable cotton robe and leather boots. She is almost always found with a bag hung over her shoulder. 

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :  Losing her loved ones. Failing them. Drowning. 

ASPIRATION / S :  She won’t speak of it, but she has only one real goal in mind. To cure someone she loves of what is killing him. Other than that, she has no specific ambitions, only looks forward to discovering what brings joy. She has however kept certain promises close to her heart that she wants to see fulfilled. Something about new sunsets and beaches. 

POSITIVE  TRAITS :  Trusting. Kind. Optimistic.

NEGATIVE  TRAITS :  Hopelessly optimistic. Wants to see the good in all things. 

MBTI : ENFJ

ZODIAC : Virgo

TEMPERAMENT :  Phlegmatic

SOUL  TYPE / S :   Priest

ANIMALS :   Butterfly

VICE HABIT / S :   Rambling, Daydreaming, Throwing herself into work.

FAITH :  Vaguely remembers her mother talking about Nhaama, also believes there are spirits (kami)

GHOSTS ? :  Yes

AFTERLIFE ? :  In the aether stream

REINCARNATION ? :  Perhaps?

ALIENS ? :   From...?

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT :  Anyone that promotes peace she favors

EDUCATION  LEVEL :  ”Home schooled” by her mother

FAMILY.

FATHER :  Deceased

MOTHER :  Deceased

SIBLINGS : None.

EXTENDED  FAMILY :  Uncle and cousin(s?).

NAME MEANING / S :  Her father named her while she was in her mother’s womb, to signify her delicate beauty but also a new start

FAVORITES.

BOOK :  Anything that has to do with herbs. But she also likes romantic tales from foreign lands.

DEITY :  She respects both kami and Nhaaama.

HOLIDAY :  She is starting to try and observe some of the foreign holidays, like Nameday. But she always has celebrated Heavensturn.

MONTH :  The month when cherry blossoms are in full bloom

SEASON :  Spring

PLACE :  Home.

WEATHER :  She loves all sorts. Just when the cold is starting to give way to warmth of spring and the birds start to sing. The first sunny day after a snowfall. Cloudy windy afternoons that sends the colorful autumn leaves spinning through the air. That quiet and stillness just before rain is about to fall. She loves them all.

SOUND / S:  Mating call of birds in the spring. The sound of raindrops drumming against the rooftop. The soft babble of a running spring. Distant chirping of crickets in the quiet of night.

SCENT / S :  She enjoys the rich scent of nature in full bloom, from flowers to trees to various herbs. But there is a soft spot in her heart now for rosemary, and the briny scent of the sea.

TASTE / S :  Delicate tastes of Hingan cuisines and teas but also bold savory mixture of flavors from the Steppe.

FEEL / S :  Tingling warmth that rolls up to greet her touch.

ANIMAL / S :  Fireflies. And anything small and adorable.

NUMBER : “Do people have favorite numbers?”

COLORS :  Soft colors like pink and cream, but also rich earth tones.

EXTRA.

TALENTS :  Analyzing and mending wounds. Recognizing natural elements.

BAD  AT :  Knowing when not to empathize. Reading non-verbal cues of people when she is curious about them. Staying mad, she finds it exhausting. Hiding her emotions, it shows plainly on her face. 

TURN  ONS :  She isn’t the type to be easily turned on. But she does take note of those who are honest, even bluntly so, and those who let their actions speak for themselves.

TURN  OFFS :  Violence. Cruelty. 

HOBBIES :  Reading. Drawing. Gardening. Cooking. 

TROPES :  Ho boy. Lots. Some may be spoilerific.

QUOTES : “It’ll be alright.“

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1 :  I’ve always wanted to see Cigarettes and Fireflies as an animated series rather than a movie, first season starting with the Underground Arc.

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 :  Epic scores (I really love Hans Zimmer) for battle scenes, but also quiet soundtracks from Sleeping At Last for some private moments. But really, there are SO MANY TRACKS I have on the playlist.

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?          

A3 :  My first main character, Roen, had just completed this huge three year arc of a story, and I wanted to write for someone new, someone who was extroverted, open, and personable. Roen was none of these things. I also wanted to delve into some mystical side of magic, and  the Xaela was introduced.

Q4 :   What first attracted you to this character?          

A4 :   Xaelas were one of my favorite parts from Stormblood. Shamanism and all that. But I wanted her to be also displaced from it, with a loss of identity in a way.

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Sometimes, her reactions are not what come naturally to me. The things she would say and think could seem baffling to someone else, but I want it to make sense in her own head. There are times where I struggle to make certain her reactions feel natural, since I would have definitely lashed out more, been furious and or distrusting, but she decides consciously not to choose those paths. She is a patient and kind person above all, but sometimes I wonder if it comes off believable rather than tropey.

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6 :  She derives a lot of satisfaction in helping people. She also likes to daydream. And seeing her loved ones be happy, makes her happy.

Q7 :  How does your muse feel about  you?          

A7 :  Nabi would probably adore my puppy and would approve of my doting husband. Probably also would like my career choice.

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?        

A8 :  I love, LOVE the people I am writing with. They are all so fantastic. Nabi’s story wouldn’t be what it is today without Anchor. And we wouldn’t have ongoing arcs without Sentry, Ghoa, and Shael. Pjel recently jumped in, so I am quite excited to see how she gets to know everyone.

Q9 : What gives  you inspiration  to write  your muse ?        

A9 :  Music, sad and not sad head canons (thanks Anchor), lately some AU ideas (again Anchor’s fault), but mostly the RPers/friends I write with. They are AMAZING.

Q10 :  How long did this take you to complete ?          

A10 :  Too long for me. I have work next morning. Which is why I skipped the tropes.

The original art can be viewed here! 

[she-wolf-of-highgarden]

Tywin Lannister as a Classical Realist

 What is Classical Realism?

Classical Realism is a theory in International Relations/Affairs  that first came into being in the 5th century by Thucydides, a Greek general during the Peloponnesian war. In the classical Greek tradition war was blamed on deities, mean waged war because the heavens wished it, Thucydides introduced a secular reason. People waged war because of the need for power as power is currency. Morality is not as important as power.

Now jump a head a few centuries and you come to another famous Classical Realist, Machiavelli, who expands on the importance of power. In The Prince (which he wrote to gain the favor of a prince) Machiavelli introduces the idea of a higher morality. So basically as citizens we all have morality and we can stick to it, but as a ruler they are held to a different morality.

“[The prince] dare not let ethics keep him from doing whatever evil must be done to preserve himself and the state.”

The morality of the ruler does not matter. In this theory the ruler must do what he has to do in order to protect the State, no matter how they personally feel about what it being done. It is seen as answering to a higher power, a power that everyday people do not really have to bother with.

Now we are to skip forward again, skip Thomas Hobbs and his belief in the chaos of the natural human state of being, and stop at E.H. Carr, who is writing during the twilight of the Great War. Carr is a huge critic of utopianism and idealism, basically he really is not a fan of American style liberalism. Realism, unlike utilitarianism, follows the belief that we all have differing interests, the greater good for one is not necessarily the greater good for another. This is part of the reason why in this theory public opinion is viewed as more of a hassle than anything. The masses are fickle and easily riled up, so why bother with how they feel? Carr is kind of an elitist.

Tywin Lannister as a Classical Realist

So I have now taken you through a very brief and simplified history of Classical Realism, what does this have to do with Tywin Lannister? Work with me here.

One important part of this discussion is who is the “State” for Tywin? When Thucydides first brought up the theory Greece was still made of city-states and Germany was still a bunch of principalities. It can be argued that the State for Tywin would be the Westerlands of which he is warden, you could also argue Westeros since the Westerlands is part of the country. Those are the two obvious answers, but i argue a third. The state for Tywin is House Lannister, of which he is the head. Given the lose definitions of “State” the Houses could count as one. I think for Tywin it is a combination of Westeros and House Lannister. House Lannister first, and then Westeros. 

Tywin does a lot of questionable things on screen (page, but whatever) and off of it. From a Classical Realist view most of what he did in the name of keeping his family in power is ethical. Let’s look at his role in Robert’s Rebellion as an example. Tywin is hand of Aerys and Jaime is the knight of the Kingsguard and Rhaegar has kidnapped the fourteen year old daughter of the Warden of the North and Aerys has killed the Warden of the North and his heir. Tywin as Hand has a duty to keep the peace in Westeros, the Targaeryns could no longer be trusted to help keep that peace. So what to do? Tywin decides to break his vow to serve the king and turns to Robert Baratheon. 

But Tywin was late. He changed sides near the end, not the beginning. He did it for personal gain, not altruism or some sense of duty. Still under Classical Realism it is ethical. So what if he had self serving motives? Of course he does, we all do. In this theory altruism does not really exist and ethics are only really important when they help to consolidate power. What matters is that he brought the end to a war and protected Westeros from an unfit ruler. Not only that, he made that ruler grateful to him.

“We had come late to Robert's cause. It was necessary to demonstrate our loyalty. When I laid those bodies before the throne, no man could doubt that we had forsaken House Targaryen forever. And Robert's relief was palpable. As stupid as he was, even he knew that Rhaegar's children had to die if his throne was ever to be secure. Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children.” - Tyrion VI, ASoS

Robert never has to take the blame for the deaths Rhaenys and Aegon because Tywin took care of it. The deaths of Rhaenys and Aegon are brutal, however, under the view of Classical Realism it could be considered ethical. Rhaenys and Aegon, had they lived, would have been threats to the throne. Should they ever try to reclaim the throne another civil war would break out. Aegon, especially, would have been a threat to Robert’s power. Under the view of Classical Realism Tywin is justified in his actions. He may have ordered a heinous act, but the children posed a threat to the new state and that state came first. 

This is view is also reinforced by his view on the murder of Elia. 

“I grant you, it was done too brutally. Elia need not have been harmed at all, that was sheer folly. By herself she was nothing.” - Tyrion VI, ASoS 

“Because I did not tell him to spare her. I doubt I mentioned her at all. I had more pressing concerns. Ned Stark's van was rushing south from the Trident, and I feared it might come to swords between us. And it was in Aerys to murder Jaime, with no more cause than spite. That was the thing I feared most. That, and what Jaime himself might do." He closed a fist. "Nor did I yet grasp what I had in Gregor Clegane, only that he was huge and terrible in battle. The rape . . . even you will not accuse me of giving that command, I would hope. Ser Amory was almost as bestial with Rhaenys. I asked him afterward why it had required half a hundred thrusts to kill a girl of . . . two? Three? He said she'd kicked him and would not stop screaming. If Lorch had half the wits the gods gave a turnip, he would have calmed her with a few sweet words and used a soft silk pillow." His mouth twisted in distaste. "The blood was in him.”  -Tyrion VI, ASoS

Does he feel any guilt or responsibility for what happened to Elia? No. Should he? From my perspective? Yes. From a Classical Realism view? No, not really.

He did not order the rape and murder of Elia. Him not thinking of her, with other forces rushing at him, may not be entirely unethical in this view. The children died brutally, but they needed to die either way. If Tywin was actually all that concerned with how Elia and her children were treated he could have punished the Mountain and Lorch. He does not. Instead he sends the Mountain to ravage the Riverlands during the War of the Five Kings. The lack of punishment may bring up ethical issues but the sending of the Mountain to the Riverlands is not. 

It is during the WotFK that i think we see the merging of Westeros and House as the state to which he is loyal, especially since his grandson sits the throne. When Catelyn takes Tyrion captive she is challenging the power of House Lannister by taking one of its citizens. He sends the Mountains to ravage the Riverlands because he knows he the brutality to see the region destroyed. Tywin is doing this to prove a point as well as get Tyrion released. To make a foreign combatant return hostage citizens. All the destruction in the Riverlands is ethical in the view that he is trying to keep power. Tywin has dealt with civil wars within the Westerlands before, if he appears weak who is to say Houses will not try to rebel again?

The Red Wedding, though a violation in the eyes of the gods, would not be one in the eyes of Classical Realism. Tywin, to his knowledge, basically ended the war right there. The Riverlands no longer need to be ravaged. The Northmen can go home. Bend the knee and you will be pardoned. Tywin did what he had to do to end a war and keep House Lannister powerful. He regrets none of it. 

Tywin Lannister views his actions during the War of the Five Kings and Robert’s Rebellion as ethical, or does not even consider it, because all he does is in the name of keeping his house/state in power. Tywin would make a fantastic hard core Machiavellian-style Classical Realist  

[johobi]

When You Least Expect It | 05

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung 

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: tiny bit of angst

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732419/navigate

A/N: Okay, this is the second part I extracted from that mammoth chapter. It’s a little shorter than normal as a result, but I hope you enjoy it.

Next: 06 || WYLEI Masterlist

You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last-ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

The first date was supposed to be the most nerve-wracking one, right? And that’s why you couldn’t understand why choosing something to wear was even more of an insurmountable task than the last time. How even though your apartment was now meticulous, it still seemed unfit for Jungkook to see, and that was despite the fact you were still not planning on inviting him in. Oh, no, just because you didn’t put out on the first date, that didn’t mean you were reserving it for the second one in some half-assed attempt at sticking by these new values you had adopted.

So why had you, yet again, gone to town on grooming and dressing parts of yourself that he wouldn’t be seeing tonight? Surely you should have been going au naturel to guarantee that you wouldn’t dare let him in the vicinity of these areas?

Because.

He was disarmingly handsome, cute, and growing on you at an unnerving rate. Without being in the same room, even! It was mind-boggling. Perhaps the sheer fruitlessness of your love for Taehyung was beginning to dawn on you. Perhaps your outpouring to Hoseok had been a turning point.

Perhaps.

Or perhaps you were fooling yourself into thinking that you enjoyed Jungkook’s attentions.

Time would tell.

And time was approaching fast. He was due to pick you up in another five minutes, and you couldn’t find your fucking keys! Typical.

Buzzzzzzzzz.

Fuck. He was early. Good job you had pressured your lazy ass into cleaning up.

Sounding, you were sure, akin to an elephant charging across the savannah, you stomped down the stairs to your front door and flung it open, the two of you presenting each other with similarly toothy grins. His, however, won, because you were sure you were beginning to develop some kind of freakish fetish for his rabbit-like gnashers. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Jungkook brimmed so intensely with enthusiasm, you could almost see him vibrating. Jesus. It was still novel to you that someone was so sincerely excited to spend time in your company. As with anything that seemed too good to be true, your paranoia set in to fret over whether this was another – certainly more malicious – of Taehyung’s pranks. But for the next thing Jungkook uttered, you honestly didn’t give a shit. You would take it, even if it was fantastical. “Wow,” he breathed, casting a long, appreciative glance over your figure. “You look incredible.”

You blinked down at what you considered to be a rather hum-drum outfit – some black skinny jeans and a tank-top – and wasn’t sure just what he was seeing. You hadn’t even put on your fancy sweater yet. Yes, you were just that organised. “Thanks,” you exhaled a mild snort. “I don’t know about that, though. I’m not even ready – sorry to be a pain. You were considerate enough to show up a little early and here I am, frantically searching for my damn keys. Would you like to come in for a minute while I look for them?”

Jungkook’s upper lip thinned as his smile grew. Everything that came out of your mouth seemed to be music to his ears, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing. His eagerness was almost abnormal. Or perhaps your sense of self-worth was just that skewed? “Sure.”

“Perspective, ____,” you heard Hoseok’s parting words echo in your mind. “Don’t always trust what your mind tells you. At the moment, it’s on the wrong side.”

You opened the door wider and turned to run back up the stairs – realising halfway up that it was probably impolite to clamber around your apartment like a chimpanzee in company. Awkwardly, you slowed down and looked over your shoulder to apologise, but stopped when you noticed that Jungkook’s eyes had been glued to the tight outline of your ass and his face was only inches from colliding with it when you stopped. Immediately you roared with laughter and his gaze flew to your face, his expression some hilarious amalgamation of guilt, mischief and chagrin. He hung his head low, like a kid that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I’m sorry, you’re just—right in front of me, and those pants look really good on you—“ he spluttered, but you only laughed harder.

“It’s fine. I probably should have given you some notice before you nearly face-planted my butt, too,” you snickered as you ascended the stairs.

When you reached the landing, you led him into the living room, the place you were certain you’d misplaced your keys. While you frantically upturned sofa cushions and rifled through the magazines on your coffee table, Jungkook took the chance to absorb his surroundings. And, by extension, probably glean something about your personality, you surmised.

It was appropriately lacking.

“You have a really nice place,” he commented kindly, and you scoffed.

“It’s boring, and doesn’t have many personal touches,” you muttered distractedly, hands on hips and completely flummoxed. “I haven’t really had the time to do much with it, even though I’d like to.”

“I like DIY if you ever need a helping hand,” he offered, and that tore you from your quest for keys for a moment. You tilted your head in disbelief at just how genuinely nice this kid was.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smile appreciatively, then, remembering why you were still standing around in your apartment and not on the way to the movie you were bound to be late for, you growled in frustration. “Where did I put those fuckers? Hold on a sec, let me check the kitchen.”

Jungkook nodded and plopped himself down on your couch, and you found yourself mildly thankful that he didn’t ask permission to do so. You wanted to see him relax, to take some initiative, and maybe – this suggestion being entirely influenced by your unbidden libido – for him to take some control.

“Thank Christ,” you muttered under your breath when you found the offending item on your kitchen counter, right where you’d sworn to retrieve it from. Because you’d baked Jungkook some cupcakes, too, and you knew you’d forget them. Instead, you’d forgotten both your keys and the fucking baked goods.

When you returned to the living room, you saw him examining your various framed photographs. You approached where he stood and smiled at him when he looked up, his finger outstretched and pointing to one in particular: Your high school graduation. Your parents had, of course, been absent, far too busy for such a “glorified, pointless event. The piece of paper is what matters, darling.” But Hoseok and Yoongi had lined your sides as exemplary stand-ins, and in all honesty, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. You had graduated together as classmates, peers and family that day. “Are these your parents?” Jungkook joked.

“Yeah,” you played along. “My two gay dads. They adopted very young. We’re very close.”

“My collection of photos looks scarily similar to yours,” Jungkook smiled dolefully. “A little more aesthetically pleasing, perhaps, thanks to my eye for composition,” he ribbed in passing, and you shook your head incredulously, “but just as devoid of family. I’m glad you’re displaying who and what actually makes you happy.”

Ah, yes, Jungkook had vaguely mentioned his own familial troubles. “That’s right. There’s more to life than pining after a parents’ overvalued love,” you commented rather cynically, but Jungkook was nodding his agreement. “I couldn’t have wished for a better substitute family than these two. I’m theirs, too, really. It’s one disjointed, but loving, family. You’re more than welcome to join,” you teased, and Jungkook shuddered exaggeratedly.

The side of his mouth arced into a suggestive smirk. “I’m not into incest, but thank you for the offer.”

You raised your eyebrows at his boldness. This was a first for him, in person. “Oh?” you let your one-syllable response hang in insinuation. And if he were about to respond, in kind, with a decidedly more salacious reply, he didn’t have the chance before you were shoving the box of cupcakes at his chest. You know, in that half shy, half ‘just take it!’ way that textbook Tsunderes do. You fitted rather easily into that god-awful stereotype. “I baked these for you,” you stated lamely, your face flushing for some unreachable reason.

Jungkook’s eyes widened as he opened the box and saw what lay within. “You made these for me?”

“I did just say that,” you brushed your efforts off with a nonchalant flap of your hand.

“Wow, ____,” he mumbled, gazing into the carton of treats with all the wonder of Pandora and her box.  Hopefully, no such ills would befall him for consuming it. Possibly food poisoning, but that hadn’t happened in a while and— “Thank you, I’ll probably eat them all in one sitting when I get home.”

“If you do, then I’ve done it right,” you chuckled, then clamped your hands onto his shoulders and steered him toward the way he’d come in. “I’ve got my keys, let’s go.”

The car journey was subdued in conversation, but fizzed like nothing else with delicious tension. No particular moment had sparked it; rather a sequence of minor, missable happenings. A brush of hands, a waft of cologne, the way he had reached over to pull your seatbelt over your lap when you found yourself struggling. Jungkook locked eyes with you when it clicked into place and fuck if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him so badly right then, completely ruin whatever semblance of innocence he still had clinging to him.

Your curiosity having gotten the better of you, you finally broke the spell of charged silence by questioning him gently about his past dating life. “So,” you started awkwardly, picking at the threads that had begun to unravel on the sleeves of your sweater. “When did you last go on a date? I told you it’d been a while for me, so it’s only fair that you ‘fess up too.”

Jungkook chuckled, glancing at you quickly before returning his eyes to the road. He was, of course, one of those infuriatingly hot guys that drove with one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearstick, oozing a confidence for driving that you were envious you didn’t possess. Oh, no, you were definitely as nervous a driver as you were a navigator of life. “I went on a few when I first moved here, a couple of months ago,” he admitted, and that uplifted you a little, to know that he had some experience under his belt. You wouldn’t want anyone’s first time to be spent with the unworthy likes of you. “But it didn’t work out, really. I haven’t been interested in anyone for a while.”

You couldn’t resist the urge to play coy. “And that changed?”

Without taking his eyes off the view ahead, his profile flashed with a contented grin. He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Right. My parents have always had a very narrow view of who I should be with,” he sighed, his buoyancy vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

“Oh,” you puffed out, caught off-guard. “Is that why you moved away?”

It seemed like Jungkook hadn’t meant to steer the conversation in this direction. His knuckles whitened on the wheel. “Yeah. It was a rather twisted, complicated situation,” he was being purposefully vague and you didn’t want to see your night ruined by bringing up bad memories.

So, without thinking, you reached out to turn on the car radio and jumped so high in your seat you nearly banged your head on the ceiling. Fucking hell, he liked his music loud. “Jesus, Jungkook!” you swore, turning the dial to an acceptable level. He cackled brazenly and you swatted his arm in response, the thick leather of his jacket serving to protect him well. Yes, he was wearing a leather jacket, something he hadn’t deigned to bless your eyes with until you’d reached the car he was taking you in. When he’d swung the garment over his shoulders, it was almost as though it had played in slow-motion before your eyes. Every guy you’d ever had a crush on growing up had had a leather jacket. And, somehow, he pulled it off better than any of them.

To your delight, the radio was tuned to one of your favourite stations. “You weren’t just talking shit when you said the 80s were your favourite,” you mused, impressed.

“Of course not,” he gasped in mock injury. “It’s the best era.”

“You’re too young to remember it,” you teased, pinching your tongue between your teeth in preparation for a scathing rebuke.

He raised a sole eyebrow. “Do you want me to call you noona, is that it? Is that why you keep reminding me?”

You hadn’t been expecting that. You flushed and turned away, well and truly put in your place. It didn’t help that Taehyung’s overuse of the word had kindled in you something dangerously akin to a kink. “No,” you muttered flippantly.

But he wasn’t fooled. “Oh,” he whispered. “Oh,” he dragged the offensive breath of air out, recognition sparking in his eyes. “You do want that?”

You shook your head vigorously. “No!”

“You do!”

“I don’t! I hate that word,” you hissed, the defensiveness of your posture – crossed arms, avoidant of eye contact – said more than enough.

“Noona,” he purred, and nothing could have had you whipping your head around quicker than that. He sounded fucking sinful and an all-too unwelcome throb nestled itself adamantly between your legs. Jungkook looked elated by this newfound power. “Holy shit, I’m definitely using that from now on.”

“Only if I get to call you my Little Sugar Kookie, then,” you shrugged, lips pursed and defiant.

An embarrassed groan met your ears. “Oh God, I don’t think I’ve heard anything worse.”

“Well then,” you sniffed, a smirk creeping back into your expression. “Don’t try me.”

You arrived soon after that exchange, your charged banter invigorating your spirits and expectations for the evening. He insisted, of course – and despite the roll of your eyes – that he open the door for you. Such blatant chivalry deserved a reward, you reasoned, so as you walked past him you casually yanked up the drooping waistband of your jeans, giving him an eyeful your best asset. There was no need to look back, of course, to judge his reaction, because you heard it well enough – some choked vocalisation that he tried hard to cover with a cough. However, you weren’t to be fooled – you didn’t have a lot you were particularly proud of, and sure your self-esteem was buried 6 feet underground somewhere. But the many men you’d gotten through had all agreed on one thing: that your ass had been the first – and last, when you inevitably walked away from their bullshit – thing they’d noticed about you, and for ample reason.

“I’ll get the tickets,” he jogged in front of you, his hands stuffed in his pockets and hugging his jacket to himself. Was he ever going to let you pay for anything?

“Let me at least get the snacks, then,” you offered, but he shook his head at you from the ticket office window. “It’s expensive,” you went on, acutely aware of how low-paying both of your jobs were. The least you could do was split the cost. He had, afterall, paid for dinner too.

When he came away with the tickets, he was still shaking his head. “Nope. You’re not paying for anything,” he insisted, pointing to the tempting display of diabetes-inducing treats. “What would you like?”

Everything he said and did was so mindful, so courteous that you couldn’t help but just stare at him sometimes. Like, was he real? And if he was, was he for real? Was he like this with everyone else? You still had so much to learn about him, and he did nothing but make it a pleasure to do so. “I’ll just have some salted popcorn,” you mumbled after a while of dithering. “I’m not really hungry.”

“I took you for a sweet kind of girl,” he laughed at his own joke, and you were immediately ready to take him down again.

“Nah, I like it salty,” you shrugged, but couldn’t maintain a straight face with the way that his eyes bugged out of his head. “Okay, you are far too easy to shock.”

Jungkook turned away and huffed, scrambling to repair his dented pride. “I just—I see your angelic face, and I don’t expect to hear such lewd things come out of your mouth,” he gushed, the cheese heavy and fully intended. He smirked in satisfaction when your hand planted your face in embarrassment.

“I actually have no comeback to that,” you relented. When you peeped at him through your fingers, he was tonguing his cheek in that insufferably appealing, arrogant way of his. “Stop that,” you chided.

He feigned incognisance. “Stop what?”

“Being sexy. I’m outlawing it,” you pouted.

Jungkook’s lofty front faltered somewhat. “You think I’m sexy?”

That wasn’t as plain as day? Just what the fuck were you doing with your eyes and words and body language every time you saw him? You thought you were being too overt. Maybe he shared your knack for undervaluing oneself.

The clock on the wall caught your eye. “Shit, we’re going to miss the start.”

“Don’t change the subject,” he called after you as you took off.

The only explanation for your lateness were your extended bouts of flagrant flirting for each new location you arrived at. It was, indeed, a trifling problem, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but revel in it. Eventually, though, you did make it to your seats, even when your eyes couldn’t quite adjust to the darkness and you tripped over someone’s legs, nearly pulling down Jungkook’s jeans on your way to the floor. Luckily, he’d grabbed your hands just in time, somehow even halting the momentum of your knees making an assuredly painful impact. You’d gulped then, realising just how much upper body strength he possessed.

Both of you whispered a quick apology to those caught in the fray and giggled between yourselves as you located a relatively empty row in the back. The movie had already started by this point, so when he unfolded your seat and held it out for you in one of his eye-roll provoking displays of excessive gallantry, you couldn’t even call him out on it. And he knew, by the shit-eating grin on his face.

You had to give Jungkook credit – the movie was almost unbearably frightening to you. He’d chosen well. Every time the killer made an appearance, you curled into him in preparation for the gratuitous gore you knew you wouldn’t be able to stomach. The first time you’d done it, he’d tensed like a bow string, his arm wooden and stretched obstinately over the back of your seat, as though touching you uninvited would see you immediately casting him from your good graces. But with your rough coaxing – grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him to you – he relaxed into his role of protector. And by the halfway point, he had become a veteran.

“I hate this,” you hiss-whispered into his neck. Without a doubt, you’d seen less of the movie and more of Jungkook’s frustratingly sculpted chest in the time that you’d been sat here. “I can’t look.”

You felt, rather than heard his chuckle, the vibration from his laughter lulling you into a temporary peace. With time, emboldened by your prompting, he’d begun to stroke the length of your arm to a lazy, consistent rhythm, allaying your fear somewhat. His touch was so different to the platonic affection that Hoseok had swaddled you in the other night. And it was different, still, to the way Taehyung would sometimes rub your shoulders when he saw how tightly wound you were – mainly because he’d never meant it with any of the intent you so wanted.

Jungkook evoked something else altogether.

His touch was alien, unknown, but oh-so right. His fingers were long, and strong, and although you couldn’t see them now, you knew how vascular his hands were. You’d never been handled by someone quite so built, so muscled, and this uncharted territory beckoned you with untold wonders you were eager to map out. The screams from the heroine in peril were no longer jarring, so absorbed in your blind appreciation for his appendages were you. When you lifted his arm away, Jungkook glanced over in confusion. And, bless him, a flash of panic. You smiled your reassurance at him, though you weren’t sure how well he could see it, and instead slid your palm over the top of his hand, your other coming up underneath to support it. He was no longer watching the movie, either, choosing instead to observe your curious behaviour.

The light in the theatre flashed brighter with the change in scene, and only then could you see the glorious intricacies of his ensnared hand. Turning it over in yours, your thumbs traced the lines of his palm, noting how smooth they were. This boy had certainly never worked a day of menial labour in his life. These hands were soft, uncalloused, and just how knowledgeable of a woman’s body were they? How many times had they gripped his—

You caught Jungkook clearing his throat in the lull of action on-screen and looked up at him, hitting him with a kittenish smile. It was more than likely just the darkness of the theatre, the circumference of his pupils lending themselves to the absence of light around you. And yet, the way he was tensed, his fingers slightly trembling in the looseness of your grip, you wondered if he would be looking at you so darkly right now, even if the lights were up. Were your innocuous touches stirring something in him?

Of course, you weren’t about to tell him that you had been committing him, viscerally, to memory. That later, in the privacy of your bed, you would be recalling the size and feel of him, to imagine what it would be like to have those same hands on you, in you, doing unspeakable things. But distantly, you wondered whether he would like that idea.

Neither of you, however, needed the aid of light to feel the way the atmosphere fizzed with tacit desire. He was leaning into you before you were, drawn to each other like North and South, and you were but four, three inches away from finally tasting him when you clambered over the armrest to close the excruciating distance. And that was when he stopped in his tracks. Slowly, his face angled down, and your lust-addled brain took a moment to catch on to why he no longer had any interest in meeting mouths. You followed his stricken gaze to his lap and the spillage your unceremonious scrambling to get to him had caused.

You’d soaked him through with Coke.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, a little louder than the people in the row in front of you would have liked, judging by their disapproving glares.

This wasn’t how you’d envisioned your first time looking directly at Jungkook’s crotch to be like, and yet here you were, eyes wide and aghast as the stain – very apparent against his blue jeans – continued to spread. “I’m so, so sorry,” you whined. God, it was impossible for you to go a day without apologising to someone over some fuck-up or another.

Jungkook, though, seemed to find it incredibly amusing. He threw his head back as his body was wracked with silent laughs, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. You stared, mouth agape, in confusion. “You’re not angry?”

“Of course not,” he wheezed. “Don’t be silly, it’s just a pair of jeans. It’s just, that was so perfectly timed, I can’t get over this. Are we in a drama or something?”

You smiled in line with his thinking, relieved that he appeared to take it in such good humour. Yet another sign that he was worth persevering with, despite what your heart may say. “Are you gonna be okay?”

The row in front’s disgruntled muttering had you wincing. Jungkook stirred uneasily in his seat and whispered as quietly as he could manage. “I don’t know, it’s getting kind of swampy down there,” he tried to repress a laugh but it only resounded all the louder, strangled at the back of his throat.

You chewed on your lip to stop it coming out. You really did, really did try and swallow it. But the temptation was just too fucking much, the opportunity too damn good to miss. “Good job I like sucking Coke.”

And that was when the woman in front rounded on you and raised her finger, but you were already high-tailing it out of there, dragging a bent-double, boggy-assed Jungkook behind you. When you burst through the doors and out into the lobby, the two of you fell into fits of laughter, falling against each other for mutual support and finding only a crumpling mess of giggles. “I can’t,” you sobbed, nearly incoherent. “I can’t get up.”

Sure enough, you were fastened to Jungkook’s waist like Velcro, your knees digging into the uncomfortably thin carpet, tears leaking from your eyes.

And then you heard him. “Noona?”

Why?

Why did he always appear like someone nearby had summoned him directly from hell?

Arms still cinched firmly around Jungkook’s waist, your head turned stiffly to heed his call. Seeing Taehyung there, his face, so charmingly betwixt confusion and amusement, was enough to extinguish your gaiety. Like having a bucket of ice water thrown callously over your head. “What’s going on?” he asked, and although his tone seemed pleasant enough, there was a strange look in his eyes, one you couldn’t identify.

“Uh, just a date,” you explained feebly, and Jungkook helped hoist you to your feet.

“Hyung,” he acknowledged him, beaming, and clearly unbothered by the unsightly brown patch marring the front of his jeans. “Nice to see you.”

Taehyung’s gaze flickered to Jungkook and, though he still seemed a little off, he smiled widely. “And you. I’m just here with—“

So today was the day you were destined to meet her. Why, why was Taehyung always just there, ready to ruin your day, your date, your fucking life.

Always.

And today he had an accomplice. Predictably beautiful, leggy, and with long, impossibly lustrous hair, Tara emerged from the ladies’ bathroom and hooked an arm through Taehyung’s. The way he fucking looked at her.

It decimated you.

It shattered you, inside and out, so severely that for a few long, vulnerable seconds, the extent of your hurt was broadcast plainly from your face. There was no strength to find, no desire to pin on some genial expression. Even when, internally, you were climbing the walls in a bid to do so. Your body was refusing to cooperate altogether. It was hopeless, trying to fake something welcoming, or excited, or any one of many polite – because she was certainly undeserving of your embittered feelings – emotions you should have been displaying. And now you were vaguely aware of Jungkook looking between the two of you when you didn’t respond to her greeting. He nudged you. “____?” and when you didn’t respond to him, “Noona?”

That had your and Taehyung’s immediate attention. “Noona?” Taehyung repeated slowly. “You’re getting on that well already?”

You couldn’t break here, not now. Not in front of either of them.

Hoseok will be there for me.

The reminder brought you to.

You approached the pleasantly smiling woman and reached out your hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m ____, Taehyung’s friend.”

She accepted with enthusiasm and nodded in recognition. “I knew it was you, as soon as I saw you. Taehyung’s told me so much about you. I’m so glad to meet you finally.”

Fuck.

She was nice.

You couldn’t even entertain the idea of hating her for being a bitch, now.

“Likewise,” your voice had taken on an abnormally high timbre, not far removed from your customer service charade. “I wasn’t expecting to until Yoongi’s party. This is a nice surprise.”

Taehyung was quieter than you were used to. Of course, the last time you had seen him had been that dreadful night at Hoseok’s, and although he had been texting you as diligently as ever after seemingly accepting your curt forgiveness, your replies had lacked the intricate subtlety of Hoseok’s carefully-worded texts. He could sense you were being weird, and you hoped to God, any God, all of the Gods, that he would never put two and two together. That night had been as dangerously close as you had ever come to letting on that you felt something other than happy-smiley friendship-love for him. “Noona,” Taehyung addressed you in an oddly assertive tone, and you felt Jungkook straighten just a fraction. “We should hang out soon.”

All the more for having witnesses, you wanted to end this painful interaction quickly. “Yeah, of course. Text me? We’ve got to go, Jungkook and I—“ you looked directly at his crotch and he faltered a little under your gaze, pulling down his shirt. “We had an accident, so we’re gonna get him home so he can change.”

Tara laughed; an enchanting, tinkling sound, and you tried so hard to hate her, but you couldn’t. “I won’t ask what happened, but you two looked like you were having a blast anyways.”

Jungkook grinned widely, flashing her his prominent teeth. Selfishly, you hoped she wouldn’t notice – surely it was impossible for any woman or man not to fall for them. “We were. We might have to come back and actually finish the movie some time, but—“

“No way,” you shook your head, visibly shuddering. “I’m not putting myself through that again. That was a stupid idea.”

“You’ve never been able to stick through the entirety of a horror film,” Taehyung sighed, smiling warmly. Tara was snug to his side and he seemed all the happier for it. “I should have given Jungkook a heads-up.”

The man in question shot you an imploring look and you were quick to defend him. “It’s not his fault, I insisted. I thought it would be, I don’t know,” you mumbled your latter words, coy all of a sudden. It was still weird talking about this kind of thing with Taehyung in earshot. “More fun.”

Tara clapped her hands and cackled. “She gets it.”

You laughed along politely before your face dropped a little too suddenly and you turned to Jungkook. “Let’s go?”

He nodded. You bid them both a hurried goodbye and walked a few steps closer to the exit, which flew open with the next person to enter it. A gale seemed to be blowing outside. Jungkook, of course, was already on top of your needs. It almost seemed like he’d been waiting for this opportunity. He removed his jacket and wrapped it securely around you, his eyes glinting gleefully. Peering over Jungkook’s shoulder, you caught Taehyung’s eye across the lobby and smiled weakly at him – honestly, your feelings for him were so mixed at the moment that you had no idea how to even interact with him. You loved him, you hated him, you wanted him, you resented him. You couldn’t be consistent, and it was fast becoming obvious that something was very off with you.

The drive home was quiet, just as it had been on the way there. But not uncomfortably. No, it was calm and content, and though the earlier build-up – of whatever that was – had died down in the face of some undue exhaustion, you’d had a good day. Yes, the appearance of Taehyung and his flawless girlfriend had dampened your mood to a large extent, but you weren’t about to take that out on Jungkook again, fuck no. He’d done everything right. And if, perhaps, one day you could just meet and not have Taehyung supernaturally teleport to the destination of your next date, that would be fantastic. As it was, that was what had happened today, and now you needed time to collect yourself. But you would not be unkind, and you would not spurn Jungkook out of melancholy.

When you arrived at your apartment, you felt glum. Did it have to be over?

Yes, it did, because you were not planning on continuing your dalliance tonight.

You heaved a sigh over your internal musings, and Jungkook looked over at you, unclicking your seatbelt. You weren’t so inept that you couldn’t work it yourself, but he just insisted on these things, half because he was too good for you, and half because he knew how much it annoyed you. The brat liked to tease.

“What are you thinking?” he freed himself from his own restraints and turned in his seat to regard you fully.

“I’m a little sad to go home,” you answered truthfully, and you hadn’t meant to be so candid. As a stranger to being so open, it was unnerving how easily you had offered up the confession. But Jungkook made anything possible.

He trapped one of your hands as it picked, in agitation, at your sweater, his touch instantly quelling your restlessness. When he so delicately interlocked your fingers, your heartrate shifted up a gear. You both just sat there, staring at where you were connected. It felt…

“Perfect,” he mumbled, and you looked up to see that he’d taken a bite of one of your cupcakes. “Oh my God, these are amazing,” he continued, an errant crumb flying with his full-mouthed praise.

You barked with laughter. “Way to ruin the moment,” you joshed, and grinned all the wider for seeing him hastily gulp down what he was chewing. “Not that I should be criticising you for that.”

“Wait,” he rasped. “Did I ruin the moment? Can I bring it back?”

“Only if you’re a necromancer,” you chuckled, letting yourself out of the car.

Unconvinced, Jungkook stumbled out of his side and around to you as you walked off. Your mouth twitched at the corners when you felt his familiar warmth surround your fingers, but you didn’t look back at him.

“Noona,” he tried to woo you, and fucking hell, of course it worked. You stopped to allow him to catch up, and he smiled as he passed you. Tugging you up the path to your complex, your hands now so intimately acquainted after today, you decided you would let him take the lead. Take what he wanted from you. Not, perhaps, that, not just yet. But in allowing him to reclaim the moment that you had so clumsily spoiled earlier.

You swung on his arm as he brought you around to face him, bumping into his chest gently. “____,” he smiled down at you, brushing a loose lock of hair from your cheek. He braced your upper arms with his hands and tilted you away enough so that he could examine your face. Jungkook loved to observe you. Whenever you chanced a glance at him, sure enough, he was usually staring. It both flattered and embarrassed you. You couldn’t understand what he might find so captivating. “Thank you for today.”

Jungkook’s jacket squeaked with the movement of your shaking head. “No, thank you. Even though I ruined things – as expected – it was so much fun.”

He tutted. “Stop putting yourself down. The way things turned out probably made it far more memorable in the end. Something, I hope, you will look back on and laugh about if you’re feeling a bit down.”

Ugh, he was so fucking precious. You sighed like one of those lovesick princesses who’d just been rescued by their prince. “I will. I’ll think about it often. The entire day I spent with you, I didn’t have one thought about work, or uni, or—“ you almost said it, but stopped yourself in time. You looked down, but he was soon cupping your chin and having you face the source of your squirming guts.

“I’m glad. I’m happy, if you’re happy,” he stated like it was God’s truth, and you believed him somehow. Jungkook swayed towards you, then, and in response, the heels of your feet left the ground. Your eyes fluttered closed, ready to finally receive him.

And that was when he grasped the lapels of the leather jacket still adorning you and steered your imminent face to the side. You felt his lips, but not where you had wanted, had expected them. They landed on the curve of your cheek, the heat of his mouth permeating where it pressed. The kiss was soft, and despite the innocence of its placement, mildly sensual. As he pulled away, you felt the coolness of the air rush against the wet mark he had left, the only evidence of his being there. Of its own accord, one of your hands drew up to your cheek to touch where he would be forever ingrained in your mind, and – like the lovelorn maiden you were so good at emulating these days – you had to suppress your knees from knocking together. “Oh,” you mumbled softly.

Jungkook scrutinised you with patent interest, delighted by his ability to disarm you. Fuck, if he caught on, he could get too big for his boots and employ it at any time. You weren’t simply wearing your heart on your sleeve, here, oh no. You were being far more obvious than that. The effect he had on you was apparent with his every touch. He might as well have been performing open-heart surgery on you for all your vain attempts at shielding it from view. You swore he could feel every thrum of it as he held you there, his arms having curled surreptitiously around your waist when you were too befuddled to notice.

“Uh,” you started benignly. For some reason, the closer your proximity, the less inclined you were to look at him. Probably because If you glanced at his mouth once, you’d be going in for a second helping.  “I know you might be busy, but would you like to go to Yoongi’s house-warming party with me next Saturday? I know you don’t know my friends yet, and--”

“I’d love to,” he mercifully intercepted the beginnings of a flustered ramble. “Anything involving you sounds like fun. We could set up another date afterwards, if you like?” Jungkook suggested, and you were painfully aware of the hands resting timidly on your lower back. You willed them to move lower, but they didn’t heed your immoral influence.

Mentally engaged elsewhere, you managed a stiff nod.

“I’ll text you soon, noona,” he filled in the silence while you stood there entertaining such unsavoury things. He seemed determined to adopt this term against you.

“Okay,” you smiled breathlessly, returning to the present. You slipped his jacket from one of your shoulders, but he halted you immediately.

“No, keep it,” Jungkook was firm.  “I want you to.”

Yet again, he left you awestruck. “Are you the leading man in a drama afterall?”

He quivered with mirth. “I did get my inspiration from that kind of thing, yeah. You warrant such treatment, though.”

“Oh God, stop it,” you were beginning to get giddy. It was time to exile yourself from his presence until you could rebuild your cool, collected façade somewhat. “I’m going, now. Good night, Jungkook.”

He stood there and waved until he could no longer see you. Of course he did. “Good night, ____.”

-

Next: 06 || WYLEI Masterlist

[pinkipie100]

On Keith Leaving Voltron and the Validity of His Decision

*deep breath*

Here we go... So, it couldn’t be more clear that a lot of the fandom is upset or dissatisfied or confused at Keith giving up the Black Lion and instead joining the Blade of Marmora. I admit, it does seem like a step backwards from Keith’s character development as a leader of Voltron from the previous season... But I think that’s the point.

Let’s take a step back and think about this; first, let’s start by asking some basic questions: What is Voltron: Legendary Defender? [Yes we’re getting that fundamental; get back here, take some time to read an actual intellectual argument about a family show for once.] That’s right, Voltron: Legendary Defender is a TV show! Now, what are TV shows, really? Well, they’re basically expressive visual media stories meant to shed light on the human condition and entertain us while doing so; the alternative to the written word doing so, yes? Meaning, they’re a kind of art. And the best art/stories challenge us to think in a new or creative perspective. This is why I love how Keith’s story has been unfolding.

Last season was spent exploring Keith’s attempt to fill Shiro’s shoes as Voltron’s leader. He wasn’t the best at it, surely, and he blatantly expressed hesitance to even take up the mantle. Even up until the end of the season, Keith told Shiro he didn’t believe in his ability to lead the team. This doubt in Keith’s mind culminates as he makes the decision to yield the Black Lion to Shiro and leave the team altogether for the Blade of Marmora. This is a good thing. Keith’s undeveloped leadership skills and his cognizance of his skill set poignantly validate his abdication as Team Voltron’s leader.

Keith, try as he might, just doesn’t have the right traits to be a fully functional leader to the team, as we all know, because of his lone-wolf mentality, impulsiveness, and lack of self-control. From the very first mission the new Team Voltron goes on, Keith demonstrates the opposite of leadership; he full-on yells at his teammates to stay out of his way when they seek guidance from him:

Lance obviously calls Keith out on this, and most of the fandom would agree that Keith needed that from Lance to help the former realize his mistake and correct it. That is true, but there’s an implication from this aggressive line that many may miss. I feel this line perfectly exposes Keith’s discomfort when people look to him for advice or guidance. He’s been suddenly put under a lot of pressure, and everyone is depending on him. As a result, he lashes out when the battle is going so drastically downhill and the other paladins keep pressuring him for a solution.

Even by the end of the third season, Keith struggles to operate as the leader of the team. Granted, Shiro is back, and this causes a power struggle between them, but ultimately, Keith had to rely on Shiro’s advice in order to defeat Lotor’s generals and destroy the Galra cargo vessel:

Keith is the one who came up with the plan to trick the generals into shooting their own ship, but if Shiro had not called Keith out on the limited time they had before the cargo vessel escaped, it probably would have gotten away. Now, this is to no fault of Keith, necessarily. Again, this was a tense situation, and Keith has a very one-track mind. Notice how Lance asks Keith what to do, but Shiro is the one who answers. Keith just stays silent and sticks to his initial plan to take on the generals’ ship first.

Taking these two scenes into account, Keith is not very comfortable being an authority figure to his team. He tends to defer to someone he views as an authority figure in high-pressure situations when it comes to a team dynamic, otherwise he reverts to his impulse-driven instincts without thought to the consequences affecting others. There’s no doubt he gives leadership an honest try, and those skills are vastly improved by the end of the third season, but ultimately, he is still disinclined to become Voltron’s permanent leader- he is still better suited as a temporary replacement.

Having discussed Keith’s abilities in his leader role, something else that is equally important to consider when addressing Keith as leader of team Voltron is his own desire to be the leader. It doesn’t take much to see that he doesn’t want the position. We’ve touched on it in the previous points, but there are moments when Keith explicitly delineates his preference in position, such as when Shiro first makes his return:

Keith jumps right on the opportunity for Shiro to retake his role as leader, so he wants the latter to recover as soon as possible. He acknowledges Shiro’s importance to the team, and the implied words here are, ‘They need you, not me.’ That may sound like he doesn’t have much confidence in his leadership position, and that’s exactly the case. Worry not, however, because this will be addressed later.

Meanwhile, shall we take a look at the actual season in question?

Season 4 really solidifies Keith’s inclination towards following as opposed to leading. The season opens with Keith operating under the Blade of Marmora, following [well, sort of] Kolivan’s orders:

While he may not have done this well, his poor rule-following was more due to, once again, his independent thinking than him actually wanting to be in charge of the mission. He was not trying to be insubordinate. One thing is still clear, however, and that is that Keith is still loyally subordinate to Shiro when it comes to Voltron:

Keith and Shiro are still very insistent on their respective views, Shiro’s being that Keith is the chosen leader of Voltron, and Keith’s being that Shiro is. The most damning evidence here to support Keith being unfit as leader is that he so stalwartly holds to Shiro being a better leader than Keith overall. Note well that Keith does not feel any remorse from stepping down from a leadership role- a paladin role, certainly, but Keith always felt that Shiro is better suited as leader, and, in fact, lights up at the very thought:

I had to capture a few screens of the same line just to emphasize Keith’s movement in describing the ‘bright side’ of the team’s situation. Though it pains Keith to leave, he would rather have Team Voltron under the rightful leader, even if that means he must leave the team.

My point here is that Keith recognizes where his talents and abilities lie, and that is not as Team Voltron’s leader. A majority of fans who prefer Keith as the Black Paladin, or even feel it makes more narrative sense for him to be Black Paladin, think thusly because every narrative element and character has pointed towards this being the direction the story is going:

Every sign in the universe is pointing Keith towards piloting the Black Lion- all because it chose him. But Keith still gives it up in the end, because he knows where his strength lie. Keith may be headstrong, but he is not a leader. He is ultimately still a follower. He is self-sufficient, but that does not translate well to helping a team be the same way. And Keith knows this. It’s not that Keith is not confident in his ability to be a leader- it’s that he recognizes it’s not his place, and certainly not what he wants.

So what are the implications of all of this?

Well, firstly, Keith is a masterful example of subverting a painfully common trope in hero stories and, typically, action-oriented and male audience-targeted TV and movies: The Chosen One. Keith had literally been chosen by not only Shiro, but the Black Lion itself to be the leader of Voltron, despite his hesitance and minimal qualifications. In falling under the Chosen One trope, Keith would have hesitantly grown into his own as a leader, and, in the end, wholeheartedly come to embrace his role appointed to him by what is essentially Fate. While this is a trope as old as time, and comes with a well-intentioned message, the problem with the Chosen One trope is that it’s so linear. Yes, there are struggles on the way to fulfilling the Chosen One role, but we all already know how it ends. The hero accepts their role and fulfills their destiny, now matter how unsure they are.

Keith turns this trope on its head by allowing him to do what heroic, broody anime-protagonist archetypes like him rarely ever do: Keith defies Fate. He refuses the call to be a leader and pilot the Black Lion, having determined that he truly is not fit for it, and there is a better fit for said position. This is an especially important message for young boys, because they are often taught to never show weakness or admit defeat, particularly to other men; they are supposed to be men and suck it up, man up, even. Keith, a passionate, conventionally masculine character that many a young male viewer may admire, sets a fantastic example of unashamed deference to a more skilled man than he. To be fair, Keith did give himself a chance to fulfill his Chosen One role, and he gave it his best effort, but recognized that his talents were better spent in another way. Keith is unafraid of staring Destiny in the face and firmly and rightly saying, ‘No.’

I want to wrap up with what this indicates in tandem with the fandom’s vastly negative reception of Keith’s stepping down.

There is an aspect of this fandom that is particularly poisonous not because of its tendency to cause discourse, but because of the toxic rationale of the topic as a whole. The fandom has collectively accepted that a leadership position correlates directly to character worth. Remember pre-season 3 and the Lion Swap Debates? Ungodly amounts of discourse arose from it, and continued to do so after the season aired. Keith stans and Lance stans argued over why their respective advocate should be/would make an infinitely better Black Paladin, while others felt Allura was most qualified, and yet, still others felt infuriated that fans were already so eager to replace Shiro as Black Paladin so quickly. 

Interestingly enough, no one [except myself and a handful of elite intellectuals] argued very strongly for Hunk to be Black Paladin, let alone Pidge [forget about poor Coran]. The reasoning for this is that those three characters were already accepted in the lions that they were [or weren’t] in. The other four characters, however, were not. Fans felt that in order for the character of their preference to receive development, they had to fill the power vacuum and prove themselves as a capable leader, or in Shiro’s case, retake that position of leadership. The named characters do, indeed, each have leadership potential, there is no question. That does not mean it is vital to their character development that they be in such position.

The fandom has really started to think like Zarkon- the Black Lion, to them, represents power and influence. If a character is not in that position, then they are not at their full character potential, and they are not important- That character is losing.

This could not be farther from the truth. Just like Keith, no character needs to be a leader to develop into a three-dimensional character, even if they have such traits- Likewise, not everyone in the real world needs to be a go-getter or business owner or entrepreneur to be a valid person. Linking success or validity primarily to leadership is an incredibly toxic and incorrect viewpoint, regardless of whether it’s in the fandom setting or reality. The world needs followers just as much as it needs leaders, and that is the lesson of Keith’s story arc so far.

And that is an important and unique message- a challenging, new, and creative perspective.

This got extremely broad and long-winded, and I apologize, but I hope you took they time to closely analyze and comprehend it all. What the writers did with Keith was masterful, in my opinion, and it breaks my heart that a story that so strongly resonates with me is being so misconstrued and poorly received by fans.

You have my utmost gratitude if you read the entire essay to the end!

[poipoi1912]

Carisi-centric thoughts on Ep 19x05

(a tiny bit late, because I’m already working on my new Barisi episode tag and I got distracted)

:D

Overall Thoughts

A half-decent episode, a strong vibe of “been there, done that,” and some very solid acting by regulars and guest actors alike. Not a complete snoozefest (though it did get progressively worse, somehow), but too predictable to be truly entertaining. I am sensing a bit of a slump, but right now we’re at a comfortably mediocre level I could live with, lol. Still, I’m hoping the show will bounce back with episodes that are a little more creative.

Case-Related Thoughts

Uh. Yikes? They see what is effectively a stick figure-like age progression sketch and immediately they’re all “IT’S HER!!!” and then they see footage of her taking the subway and immediately they’re all “WE’VE MADE A HUGE MISTAKE!!!” and then the brother’s story is a little off and they’re all “HE’S THE KILLER”.

Like, maybe show some restraint? Y’all are cops?

All of the drama could have been avoided, which is just poor writing. I mean, I laughed my ass off at “there are no orange groves in Pennsylvania”. That was their other big clue? Not the fact the girl refused to give a DNA sample but SVU released her into the custody of some random family regardless?

Speaking of, why on earth did they allow that girl to move in the family home literally 5 minutes after she was found? Was she even stable enough? And the continued refusal to give a DNA sample was certainly suspicious. Sure, the dad was covering up a crime, so his refusal to get the girl’s DNA tested rang true, but by that point it was already too late. They should have tested her DNA before they ever told the family. Why would they risk the emotional damage? To protect her, or respect her own privacy? Okay, but how about protecting the family as well? How about protecting the mother from the pain of losing her “daughter” twice? That’s the one parallel the episode failed to draw between the main case and Liv/Noah. Liv would never want to give that mother false hope.

Also, the son was acting way too creepy from the start. The dad did that a lot better (then again, Paul Schulze is always fantastic); his reaction was part creepy and part “maybe he’s being weird because he doesn’t believe that’s their daughter, but he doesn’t want to hurt his wife by saying that out loud”. Meanwhile, the son was practically all, “Yep. I did it. I don’t know who this random girl is, but she sure isn’t related to me. My actual sister is dead because I personally murdered her.”

Sonny and Continuity

Sonny crossing himself when finding dead bodies is a lovely touch, and I love that the show hasn’t forgotten his faith or his reverence for human life.

We got yet another random and unnecessary tidbit about Sonny's family life. All I’m gonna say is, I sure hope somebody in the writers’ room is keeping track of all this, because they're giving us 3 new tidbits every week and I feel like we're going to start getting conflicting info by episode 14. "So, when my pops was in the hospital for a month back in 2007, and I was in the waiting room, but also doing a student exchange program in Italy at the same time, and my oldest sister was pregnant with her first, but she also had a 3-year-old at home, and my mom was baking cookies for the nurses every Tuesday, but she had already been dead for 2 years, and...."

What is the point of all that? I appreciate the fact they’re trying to fill in some blanks, and Sonny has always been the type to overshare, so it does fit his personality, but it’s still kind of strange. Is Sonny stuck in the past, reminiscing literally at all times? Or do the writers want us to get to know him a little better? If so, why can’t he talk about his current life? Fill in those blanks? Or, even better, why not show us that current life? Lord knows we’re seeing enough of Liv’s life, but all the other characters have gotten nothing. Sonny and Barba especially had their one and only “personal” episode (one each) back in Season 16. It’s nice to hear about Sonny’s family, but it’d be nicer if we actually saw them :D

Sonny and Continuity Vol. II - Emotion

As I’ve said countless times, Sonny is always hit hard when the victims are younger, and I love the idea that a young-ish Sonny would have followed a missing child case even a decade ago (which would have made him how old? And was he a cop at the time? In college? In the Academy? A rookie? What year is it?) Especially since he was going through something emotionally traumatic, like having an ill parent. The ICU means his dad didn’t have it easy, so Sonny was probably worried and was trying to find an outlet for his stress (I’ve been there. Hell, I am there, that’s partly why I write these posts lol).

That said, I also loved seeing that Sonny’s sensitivity and attachment to children led him astray. It gave him false hope, and an overeagerness which is typical of him in general, but uncharacteristic of him as a cop; he usually has good instincts, but he’s also the cop who will triple-check every possible explanation before forming a working theory, so I liked seeing him get carried away. As sad as it was (because it was totally obvious he was wrong, since it was totally obvious the brother was guilty), I liked seeing him falter.

Not that he really faltered, or not that it was acknowledged.

I sincerely thought Sonny was going to get in trouble with a reporter (lol just kidding, of course that ended up being deleted) because he spoon-fed the girl various details she might not otherwise have known. There’s helpful questions and then there’s leading questions. Sonny was so excited about finding “little Em” that he let his emotions cloud his judgment. Again, that made sense, because he had a special attachment to this particular case, but I kept waiting for the payoff. I thought “Emma” would parrot the info Sonny fed her during her TV interview, or something. I kept expecting him to be reprimanded, later on. I wanted to see him acknowledge his mistake, and maybe even get punished for it. In a subtle way, maybe in a conversation with Liv, who would respect his guilt but would warmly yet sternly tell him not to get so easily excited in the future.

Except Sonny was punished via carrying a dead child. And I don’t know if that was even intentional (as a punishment) or accidental (most likely).

Sonny’s Punishment

As strong of a scene as it was, and not to get gory on ya, I gotta say, carrying a corpse like that after all those years? Wouldn't that girl be, like, a pile of bones at that point? And, dare I say, wouldn’t it have been more jarring and tragic if we had seen Sonny carrying an actual lump of remains, instead of an identifiable human shape? I would have gotten chills. But then, they wouldn't have been able to do the dramatic "carrying the body of a child" shot which...

Thank God Peter is such a good actor, and such an understated actor, at that. He is always given these dramatic-ass moments, but he never overacts, so he is able to bring some truth and some honesty to these otherwise melodramatic scenes. His performance is what grounds Sonny. I love how he goes big when the moment is more comedic, but he always shuts down and gives us these small, numb and nauseated expressions when the moment is tragic. The writing is heavy-handed enough, so a “bigger” performance would hurt its emotional impact.

I swear, sometimes it’s like the writers are trying to turn Sonny into this tortured, “vulnerable” version of a Gary Stu, since he has been the de facto male lead for so long, and there’s no one else around to do that sort of stuff, but Peter is valiantly playing him as a three-dimensional human being, because he’s a character actor at heart. As a viewer, I appreciate that.

If I had written this episode (which I wouldn’t have), instead of that entire “finding the remains” scene, I would have had the mother talk to Sonny after the trial, not Liv. I would have had the mother coldly tell Sonny, “I wish you’d never found her,” which would have been a great juxtaposition to “I look at you and I see the angel who found my daughter.” That would have been a more subtle way of punishing him, but just as much of a gut punch, and I’m sure Peter would have given us a reaction which would have been equally heartbreaking.

(WAIT SHOULD I PUT THAT IN MY BARISI EPISODE TAG? WHICH I’VE ALREADY STARTED WRITING? HELL YEAH I WILL. I don’t only fix the lack of Barisi, I also fix the missed opportunities for closure :D)

Stray Thoughts

Sucks that Fin was off for two weeks in a ro... wait he was in this episode? Oh okay.

Barba was underused again, but his face (and his voice!) when he asked if Liv was okay made his entire appearance worth it not really though, he needs more to do.

What was the brother convicted of? Wasn’t he a small-ish child when he killed his sister?

Girl: “Don't touch me!”

(Sonny approaches her with the clear intention of touching her)

Girl: “I said don’t touch me!

(Sonny keeps moving in her direction with his hands literally outstretched)

Girl: I SAID DON’T TOUCH MEEEE!!!!

*DUN DUN*

Oh, SVU, will you never learn? A “dramatic” moment doesn’t work it if it’s based on total contrivance.

The Noah storyline is getting predictable. Liv is going to start grudgingly trusting Sheila, despite her original (and correct) instincts, and then Sheila is going to pull something intense; kidnapping (in time for February sweeps, perhaps), or maybe making her case (to somehow vacate the adoption, which, lol) more legitimate by gathering “evidence” Liv is unfit to be a mother. You know Liv is going to get into trouble eventually, with a perp or a long case, and Off-Screen Lucy will be conveniently busy for once, and Sheila will volunteer to babysit, etc etc. That said, I loved that first courtroom scene. It’s always nice to see Langan, and Brooke Shields is very good (in setting up the fact she’s possibly deranged and will go awf later in the season)

Continuity has been better this season, but apparently it doesn’t reach back to the Stabler years, just to SVU 2.0. So I guess it’s understandable that they virtually redid an entire episode from SVU 1.0 and no one had any memory of it happening.

Amanda: “Liv’s going to bring in a reunification specialist.” (cut to Liv doing the reunification her own damn self) I love this show and its unintentional hilarity :D

Sonny’s sweet face when the parents thought they recognized their daughter? Peter is so good. He really broke my heart last night.

[markclutch2-blog]

Our Wedding // Liquid Ditty Cocktail

All wedding pictures in this post are by our very talented photographers, The Spragues. These photos cannot be used without their permission.

Almost a year later, I have finally managed to sit down and write about our wedding. It was largely a DIY affair, brought to life by many, many helping hands. We celebrated with a small group of 40 people – just immediate family and close friends – at my parents’ house in Maine, where Trevor and I have been going together since high school. Insanely, wonderfully, my parents built a barn on the hill above our house to host our reception. By hand. I know, we are incredibly spoiled. It took many weekends of labor to bring the boat barn to fruition, but in some ways building the barn was the part of the wedding I loved most of all. Working alongside both sets of parents to build a structure to house our friends and family felt purposeful and unifying. And walking up the hill that day to see the barn filled with our handmade oak farm tables, tables covered in copper vases and pink flowers, candles and string lights filling the whole space with warmth… it was so incredibly beautiful. I don’t really have a photo that adequately captures the magic of that space, but these come close.

I don’t remember the day in that much detail, but what sticks with me the strongest is our ceremony. Standing under the pine trees clinging to Trevor’s arm, my brother welcoming our friends, my mother standing at my side, and the teary-eyed faces of so many of the people that I love staring back at me, I felt a truly powerful surge of love and wonder. We spent the weeks leading up to the wedding writing our ceremony, which was difficult, but important: when we stood up there, we knew exactly what we were saying and why. My brother officiated, and standing in the basement in a bit of a panic moments before the ceremony, hearing my friends laugh as he stood up there joking with the crowd was truly what calmed me enough to get myself out the door.

And then, we were off. People stood in clusters on the lawn drinking white wine and playing lawn games, or sat on the dock watching the light change over the lake. As the sun started to set we were seated at the long farm tables and the toasts began, making me cry, for the first time that day. Then we ate, and laughed, and talked, and it felt exactly like the wonderful dinner party we were envisioning.

After dinner, the evening devolved, as we had hoped it would, into tequila shots and dancing barefoot on the lawn, friends sneaking off into the woods and out on the canoe, sitting around the campfire and eating s’mores. This is less a memory and more a blur of mental snapshots. Immediately after the wedding I felt devastated by the fact that I couldn’t remember each moment, but a year later, I’ll take the happy blur. Happy blur is what we were going for, after all.

As for the details, for those of you who get into this kind of thing: the ceremony benches were planks of white oak milled from trees on the property. The tables, too, were made by hand and painstakingly finished to showcase the beautiful wood. I did the flowers myself, with the help of my bridesmaids, using homegrown dahlias, garden roses, astilbe, eucalyptus and hypericum. Plus cosmos, Queen Anne’s lace, and leucothoe borrowed from a neighbor’s garden two days before the wedding when it turned out one of the flower companies I had ordered from was a scam. Those missing flowers were the only near disaster of the whole DIY affair, and the day was promptly saved by my incredible friend Veronika, who bought all the roses at Wholefoods before she left Boston, and several generous neighbors. Cosmos and Queen Anne’s lace have a special place in my garden now.

And, since this is a food blog, the menu: for the happy hour, ceviche, buttermilk fried chicken bites in a waffle cone, and sliders (at the bride’s insistence!) with blue cheese and candied bacon. Dinner was family style, and heaping platters of espresso-rubbed flank steak, lemon rosemary roasted chicken, sweet corn succotash, and smoked gouda mashed potatoes made their way up and down the length of each table. We skipped the cake and instead went for mini pumpkin cheesecakes, blueberry pies, and banoffee parfaits. Everything was incredible and our caterers, Bar Harbor Catering Company, did a truly fantastic job. Not only was the food delicious but the event planning and coordination that they provided was just really game changing. Last but far from least, The Spragues captured everything perfectly, while somehow managing to seamlessly  join our guests in the party.

Beyond these pictures and memories, I have one more thing to share with you: our signature cocktail recipe. We wanted something that was autumnal without being overly cozy, to suit that in-between season of mid-September in Maine. We ended up with the Liquid Ditty: bourbon, dry hard cider from Bantam, Calvados, and honey-sage syrup. (An aside, Trevor and I just engaged in a rigorous debate about what to name this cocktail. A search on “Golden Apple” led us down a Wikipedia rabbit hole through Greek mythology to recently discovered dwarf planets. “Apple of Discord” was deemed unfit for a wedding cocktail, and I couldn’t convince him that “Apple of Bliss-chord” was hilarious. We considered “The Spitz,” named after the Esopus Spitzenburg apple tree in our front yard., but ultimately, we’ve settled on the “Liquid Ditty.” It’s a reference to Poe’s poem “The Bells,” which Trevor strongly associates with our wedding day. Plus, it’s catchy. Alternate name suggestions still welcome.) Nearly a year later, I’ve mixed up another batch to drink on the porch with Trevor. It’s just as delicious as I remember it – crisp and appley with just a hint of sage. We’ll be drinking these all September.

Print

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A crisp and refreshing cocktail for the season in between summer and fall. Hard cider, Bourbon, Calvados, and honey-sage syrup come together for a chilled autumnal sipper. We came up with this drink to celebrate our wedding and now it’s a September favorite.

A Katie at the Kitchen Door original recipe.

Author: Katie at the Kitchen Door

Ingredients

For the honey-sage syrup:

1/2 cup water

1/2 cup honey

15 leaves fresh sage, roughly chopped

For each cocktail:

1 part Calvados

2 part Bourbon

1 part honey-sage syrup

1 part chilled hard dry cider, such as Bantam Wunderkind

1 sage leaf, for garnish

ice

Instructions

For the honey-sage syrup:

Bring all ingredients to a simmer. Let simmer for 3-5 minutes, until sage is bright green and syrup is foamy. Remove from heat and let steep for 10 minutes.

For each cocktail:

Stir together Calvados, honey-sage syrup, and Bourbon to combine. Pour over ice in an old-fashioned glass. Top off with cider, garnish with a sage leaf, and serve.

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Source: http://katieatthekitchendoor.com/2018/09/01/our-wedding-liquid-ditty-cocktail/

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 12th May 2019 (Logic & Eminem, Shawn Mendes, Lewis Capaldi)

We have a bunch of new arrivals this week, most of which are big-name debuts within the top 20, so safe to say we have another busy week on our hands. Let’s get it.

Top 10

One of my biggest surprises on this chart is that the top five is still relatively stable, and Stormzy’s “Vossi Bop” is still at the number-one spot, even though I thought it’d collapse like Dave and Fredo’s “Funky Friday” did after it debuted at the top due to insane streaming. Despite my expectations, it’s fine. It’s still here. Speaking of...

“Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X and later remixed by both Billy Ray Cyrus and Diplo, and possibly Young Thug(?), hasn’t moved from the runner-up spot from last week.

Lewis Capaldi had a good week here – even his single “Grace” that has been mostly stagnant increased three spaces elsewhere – but he places twice in the top 10. The first appearance here is for “Someone You Loved”, rebounding a singular position up to number-three.

His other appearance within the top 10 is right here, funnily enough, as he makes a consecutive appearance here at number-four, with the debut of “Hold Me While You Wait”, Capaldi’s third top 40 hit in the UK as well as his second top 10 and top five hit.

At number-five, up one spot from last week, is “bad guy” by Billie Eilish.

Meanwhile at number-six, we have MEDUZA and Goodboys with “Piece of Your Heart” down one space from last week.

I’m surprised at how Taylor Swift’s “ME!” with Brendon Urie of Panic! at the Disco essentially just collapsed entirely as it drops down four spaces to number-seven. Yes, it’s still in the top 10, but it’s worrying how quickly this is dropping down; The UK doesn’t count radio in its charts so I suppose it’s impressive that such a radio-targeted song is doing so well on sales and streaming, but I’d chalk that up to YouTube.

Meanwhile, at number-eight, “SOS” by the late Avicii featuring vocals from Aloe Blacc is down one spot from last week.

We have yet another top 10 debut as “If I Can’t Have You” by Shawn Mendes makes its chart premiere at number-nine (Noticeably lower than its #2 debut in the US), becoming his ninth UK Top 40 hit and his sixth to reach the top 10.

At #10, to round off the top 10, we have “Just You and I” by Tom Walker slowly making its way out down two spaces. It’ll probably have a bit of a comeback next week.

Climbers

Naturally, due to the nature of this week’s business, we don’t have many songs being able to make room for themselves on the charts – by that I mean we have one notable enough climb, and it’s “Sixteen” by Ellie Goulding up five spaces to #31.

Fallers

I would like to say these are a different story, but there are less than I expected. Going from the top, we have expected yet arguably slightly premature losses for Khalid and P!nk’s “Talk” and “Walk Me Home”, down six and five spaces respectively to #20 and #21. I think their runs have been long enough, although I expected “Walk Me Home” to smash considering the top 10 debut, but it’s since faded away and has just been fodder in the top 20 for a while. We also have consecutive losses for mediocre British hip-hop, as Digga D’s “No Diet” is down seven spaces to #27, right next to JAY1’s “Your Mrs” down five to #28. Otherwise, we have mostly continued losses, including “Don’t Call Me Up” by Mabel down five to #32, “i’m so tired...” by LAUV and Troye Sivan down seven to #33, “Boy with Luv” by BTS featuring Halsey down eight to #37 (I’m surprised it’s lasted this long), and sadly, “Disaster” by Dave featuring J Hus down seven to #40.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

First of all, I’d like to note “wish you were gay” by Billie Eilish has dropped out from #35 to not even in the top 75 due to streaming cuts. That’s how detrimental they can be to a song’s success over here, although that song was already on its way out. Anyways, we don’t have any returning entries, but we do have some drop-outs – quite a few – but all to be expected, really. “Let Nature Sing” by the RPSB is out from #18 but it’s a charity birdsong single, I’m just surprised it’s still at #63. We’ve just got three others, and those are quite literally last week’s bottom three. All of these dropping out from #38, #39 and #40, we have “Let Me Down Slowly” by Alec Benjamin featuring a duet with Alessia Cara, “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper, and finally, “Wow.” by Post Malone. New arrivals time.

NEW ARRIVALS

#34 – “M.E.N. II” – Bugzy Malone

Produced by Zdot

Now for some brief backstory. This is a sequel track to Bugzy Malone’s 2015 track “M.E.N.” that directly interpolates the prior single to reflect on how far his career has changed from the year he released that single. Looking at the album charts, you can really tell as his last EP debuted at #4 in 2017 and his 2018 album at #8, but Bugzy Malone, despite being one of the key grime MCs to form the modern, trap-influenced style and become less commercially focused as they were in the early 2010s, has never made the top 40 until now. This is his first UK Top 40 hit, despite a few close calls and even an album bomb, in which none of the tracks touched the top 50. He has since built up a lot of hype, clearly, collaborating with the likes of Rag ‘n’ Bone Man, but is the music any good? Well, I’m not familiar with much of Bugzy at all, I’ve only heard a few singles here and there, but I’ve never been all too impressed, although I have been listening to the poppier, charting stuff. Maybe I would appreciate a return to its roots more, and you know what, to an extent, I do. The upbeat synth is quite cloudy but allows for a fun, bouncy flow over an admittedly stilted drum beat that feels very generic although definitely more fast-paced than what I’m used to hearing on the charts. I do appreciate Bugzy Malone’s introspective lyrical content, where he looks back on his come-up and has some very specific details in how he made it, with eerie synths shrouding his blunt vocal delivery in an odd mystery, which seems unfitting considering Bugzy Malone’s lyrics are quite hard-hitting; A lot of the instrumentation feels too sparse and spacey, in fact, for such a personal and intimate song talking about struggle with religious worship and beliefs, experience with cocaine since he observed his friends slowly suffer from the abuse of the drug, relationship issues where Bugzy feels like he needs to overly compensate for the lack of attention and speaking on how he wouldn’t mind dying and going out as a legend of Manchester if that’s what it takes for respect. With a beautifully-sang outro in what I’m assuming is Bugzy himself in a falsetto, it really should be more than what it is, but he struggles to stick to a topic at once sometimes and often the beat is less intense than it really should be. This is still good, but I’m not entirely sure if it’ll have any longevity.

#18 – “Guten Tag” – Hardy Caprio and DigDat

Produced by JT and CallMeTheKidd

Oh, hey, another relatively non-notable UK drill/trap song that debuts into the top 20 inexplicably, is expected to drop off quickly, sticks around for way too many weeks before it’s cut down by the streaming chart rules in the UK. This one is by two familiar faces though, Hardy Caprio and DigDat, who have both charted once or twice before and have both been incredibly uninteresting. This is Caprio’s fourth Top 40 hit and first Top 20, whilst it’s DigDat’s second of both – and this one might just be a tad weirder and a tad more unique than any other UK trap song that could have debuted this week. There’s no chorus at all, barely even anything resembling it other than how a refrain is kind of implemented into an intro and outro, and it takes only a couple bars for an odd Family Guy/The Cleveland Show reference to talk about the cocaine he’s trafficking, because, well, sure. The beat is fantastic, it has got a summery tropical vibe in its breezy synths and flutes but it’s immediately drowned out by the insanely dark and heavy 808s and sub-bass, which sound great. Caprio and DigDat flow well over it, and the slight tinge of guitars that appear throughout the beat are so cool, especially when they’re used to build up to the chorus in an otherwise menacing section of just bass and the skittering trap percussion and it can only be heard in the left channel. It really shows how any natural, lively instrumentation is distant from the intense and tragic lives of UK drill musicians, I suppose. This is really good, actually, I’m surprised. Sure, the lyrical content is nothing to speak of, ut that doesn’t matter when the beat is this interesting and the vocal inflections are this powerful. Check this out, I’d recommend it, even if just for that beautiful watery synth melody and the incredible flute in the outro.

#15 – “Homicide” – Logic featuring Eminem

Produced by Bregma and Shroom – Peaked at #4 in New Zealand and #5 in the US

God, where do I even start with this one? Okay, well, since none of the other singles from Confessions of a Dangerous Mind took off, Logic essentially put on Hot 100 Easy Mode and got an Eminem feature while rushing something at the beginning to make sure you knew it was a Logic song as well. Hence, he got the second biggest hit of his career. This is Logic’s third UK Top 40 and top 20 hit, and I’m not even going to count Eminem’s, he has way too many to even start trying at this point. Let’s just take this one step by step because there’s a lot to unravel here. First of all, we have Logic’s dad Smokey Hall telling an obviously scripted reverb-drowned joke with some fake laughter. If that’s really how Logic laughs, then I’m scared for his life. Logic’s dad REALLY sounds like Logic, though, like they’re nearly identical, especially when they both laugh in unison. The joke isn’t funny either, and it’s just kind of painful to sit through, especially with little drowning it out other than the beat warming up. The beat by itself is actually just kind of okay, but definitely is menacing when you hear the intimidating bells and pair them with Logic and Eminem’s rapid-fire flows. Logic’s verses sure are... Logic verses from 2019? They’re incredibly generic, although I do like the Eminem references and Logic’s flow and vocal delivery is on point, until...

(In a weird voice) When I rap like this, do I sound like s***? / Well, it don’t really matter, ‘cause I’m killin’ this s***

Uh, Eminem, you must have heard Logic’s verse, right? You admitted on “Not Afraid” that the use of the dumb accents on Relapse was pointless and unnecessary, so why are you letting Logic do them? His voice is even more nasal here, and I’m still baffled by how little self-awareness he seems to have here. No one is criticising Logic for rhyming words with themselves, they’re criticising his subject matter, so rhyming a phrase with itself four or five times isn’t a valid argument against these critics, because you don’t know their argument in the first place. Also, I’m not letting Logic anywhere near my baby, especially if it is in fact true that he does have rabies.

There’s nowhere to hide, we call this s*** genocide

No, you don’t. The song’s called “Homicide”.

We gon’ leave ‘em crucified, we call this s***...

Homicide.

...genocide

God damn it, Bobby, can’t you get anything right? Okay, well, the criticism of autotuned mumble rappers makes no sense considering how shallow his criticisms are and how he himself has focused on the exact subject matter he mocks for the past two years, and only that subject matter, as well as the extensive use of autotune on Bobby Tarantino II – the only hit single from the tape, “Everyday” with Marshmello, owes a lot to it. He then talks about how if he’s calling himself the greatest ever, he must come with the best raps, and then he repeats a couple words, has some filler, but honestly the monotonous droning of the sub bass and darker synth tones really add to the pure aggression of Logic’s distorted yelling by the end of his second verse.

Honestly, all of the lyrical content can be forgiven because at no point does the momentum of the track come to a halt, especially when Eminem comes in and feels like himself again. All these forced 2018 Slim Shadyisms aren’t there, or at least harder to spot, so it just feels like Eminem with Slim Shady-like vengeful tendencies but more importantly a passionate, violent rapper who loves what he’s doing and wants to prove himself as the best to ever do it, which is all I want from Eminem. His rhyme schemes are complex and insane, his baseball wordplay is fantastic and continues for a much longer time than I initially thought, which is impressive. He has some quotables about farm animals, specifically sheep and dogs, continuing the metaphor he started on Boogie’s “Rainy Days”, that he is the violent wolf or dog who leads a pack of sheep. I love Eminem’s verse and I’ll take anything I can get from Logic, so after Eminem talks about bringing the fingerless gloves back (Yeah, remember those?) he has a couple more bars before finally killing the song’s momentum by abruptly ending the beat and his verse entirely, because he’s too good for it. This is the Eminem I love, this is the Eminem I wanted out of Kamikaze but wasn’t treated to. Eminem on trap beats can work fantastically, and if anything, this just proves that Eminem still isn’t even on a comparative level to those he inspired. Oh, yeah, and the outro is a Chris D’Elia skit sampled from Twitter or something that mimics Eminem’s rhyme scheme. It’s funny for about 10 seconds, but not for nearly a whole bloody minute as that’s how long they keep it for. Yeah, okay, that was unnecessary, and does kill the momentum more than Logic ever could. I guess I’m revealing my inner Eminem fanatic here, but God, do I love his verse, and I feel with a better Logic verse (The hook is great by itself, and the beat is fitting enough), this could have been 10/10 territory, honestly, but even without that, his verse works in the most primal, violent way it could have possibly worked with, so I’m not complaining, in fact, this is probably the best new arrival here. Honestly, I’m just glad it’s not “Lemon Drop”. Now for some boring pop singers, I guess. Did you realise none of these new arrivals have been females? Yeah, none of them are. Three out of five are hip-hop as well. Interesting.

#9 – “If I Can’t Have You” – Shawn Mendes

Produced by Scott Harris, Mark Williams & Volta, Shawn Mendes, Nate Mercereau and Teddy Geiger – Peaked at #2 in the US

Apparently this song needs five producers. Okay, what is this, “SICKO MODE”, or did we really need five producers? Did all of these producers seriously contribute enough for a full credit and not a co- or additional production credit? Ah, well, that’s nitpicking. I’ve talked about the stats before, but this is Mendes’ highest-peaking song ever in the US and it seems to have just been a massive smash hit everywhere, and it will be even bigger once radio picks up on it. What have I heard about the track before peeping this new song? Well, I see that everyone loves it, and I understand why. It’s really upbeat and Mendes’ performance, albeit breathy, is really powerful and intense. The bassline is pumping and the guitars are nice and tropical, but I can’t feel like I would have found this more refreshing in 2016. What I’m saying is that this is bland and tasteless, and I now understand why there’s five producers. It’s overproduced to hell and back, or at least that’s how I see it. There’s reverb absolutely EVERYWHERE, as if it’s a Post Malone deep cut, and the vocals are in the front of the mix so the instrumentals in the back of the mix just end up piling into a pile of mush. The multi-tracking in the first chorus sounds like a choir of Shawn Mendes, but it ends up sounding like Shawn Mendes breaking the microphone. That freaking piano part as well, it’s so tackily added in, especially since the video uses it as a focal point. Has this had any actual arrangement before the CDs were burnt and the vinyl records were pressed (Yes, they made them, because that’s the only way this got #2 in the US)? My friend said this sounded like royalty-free vlog music, and yeah, that’s a pretty solid description, except there’s no ukulele... I pray to God an acoustic version of this song with a ukulele gets released. Yeah, this is just tepid, saccharine and uninspired, I don’t see the praise. Sorry.

#4 – “Hold Me While You Wait” – Lewis Capaldi

Produced by Lewis Capaldi, Edward Holloway, Nick Atkinson and TMS – Peaked at #1 in Scotland and Ireland

Speaking of the devil, here’s more pop that I’ll find embarrassingly dull and saccharine, except this time it’s going to be a gruelling piano ballad because that’s all Capaldi does. He’s not the first, we’re just feeling a lack of Ed Sheeran right now and when he comes back, this dude will be off the charts, hopefully forever. What a talentless, putrid hack. Okay, maybe he isn’t talentless, he can sing, sure. He doesn’t know where to sing, though, because he does borderline spoken word in this raspy voice over once again, just a boring piano melody like his last one, a freaking Zedd alarm clock ticking in the background, and Lewis Capaldi sounding like a frog sobbing over its grandfather that had just flatlined. He sounds strained and he just repeats that “My love”, it gets on my nerves. It’s not intense or intimate, it is aggravating and I never want to hear it again. This is borderline unlistenable to me and I can’t even figure out exactly why, I can’t pin-point it, but it’s just assault on my ears, with the incessant layers of background vocals haunting me as I try and find some solace in the strings, but the last note has to be Capaldi vomiting up his kale yogurt from the night before. Disgusting waste of studio time, and what an overbearing, sickeningly overproduced piece of gutter trash that even Sheeran would spit on and give to his cats. I hope to see this guy fall naturally out of public consciousness before I get much more repulsed of him than I already am.

Conclusion

Should be obvious here – Worst of the Week goes to Lewis Capaldi for whatever the hell that three minutes and 26 seconds was, with Dishonourable Mention going to Shawn Mendes for “If I Can’t Have You”. Logic and Eminem grab Best of the Week for “Homicide”, whilst Honourable Mention is going to Hardy Caprio and DigDat for “Guten Tag”. Yeah, I know, I’m surprised too. Follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank for more pop music ramblings and Top 20 rankings, and I’ll see you next week!

[unclegamecube]

A breakdown of why I hated S5E8 of Samurai Jack (SPOILERS)

Okay so we’re almost at the end of the new season of samurai jack, and the end of the series as a whole. There are two more episodes left after this one, and thus far, the new season has been really really great. Every episode was exciting and entertaining in its own way, I could go on and on about how good it’s been so far. Until the most recent episode. Fuck this episode. To get right to the point, no, I didn’t really want Jack and Ashi to become romantically involved, but I definitely could have seen myself warming up to the idea if it was done well. It wasn’t. Most of this episode is dedicated to building a romantic connection between Jack and Ashi, but right from the first few minutes, it feels off. All of a sudden both characters (especially Jack) start acting awkward and out of character, and the moments dedicated to building tension between the two come off as super awkward and out of tone with the rest of the season so far. Episode 7 ends with zero indication that these two might have feelings for each other. They just decide to set off to face Aku now that Jack has his sword back. However, within the first few minutes of episode 8, the two start acting goofy about their hands touching while the most insufferable fucking music plays. This scene bugs me mostly because it feels super out of nowhere, and again, really out of tone with the rest of the season. Compare it to some of the major scenes from the first few episodes and you’d think it was a different series altogether. The one moment from this episode that I did kind of like was the scene where Jack weaves straw hats for both of them. This was a genuinely sweet moment, and i think if the rest of the episode had quieter, smaller moments like this, it would have been a much better, more subtle way to take these characters in this direction. And that’s the key word here. Subtlety. This episode lacks subtlety, which is something that not just this new season, but samurai jack in general is usually pretty good at. Genndy Tartakovsky is an insanely talented director, but it genuinely feels like he kind of dropped the ball a little bit with this one. Even the action is kind of lackluster. Most of it involves Jack and Ashi being chased around a crashed spaceship by an alien monster that is essentially a big clump of worms. They run around the ship for a while, bumping into the monster along they way, fighting it off, etc. It feels pretty standard compared to the really cool action scenes we’ve been getting so far. (Again, compare this to the first few episodes and the fights with Scaramouche and the Daughters of Aku) All of this concludes with Jack and Ashi killing the monster with an electrical device (which results in the most obvious sexual innuendo I think I’ve ever seen) and making out to more EXTREMELY unfitting music. This final moment is the one that really baffles me and sticks out in my mind the most, and it’s honestly a good way to summarize the entire episode. It feels like it doesn’t belong. When i say that it feels out of tone, i’m not even saying that because it’s lighthearted or anything. While season 5 has definitely had some darker, pretty grisly moments, it still FEELS like samurai jack. It knows when it needs to be goofy, it knows when it needs to be quiet and subtle. This episode genuinely feels out of place with the series as a whole. It’s awkward, annoying, boring, and feels like a genuine misstep in what is otherwise a fantastic series. It isn’t just me being upset in the direction they took Jack and Ashi (although that definitely factors into my opinion), it’s me being confused and annoyed over how much this episode didn’t feel like a samurai jack episode. if you enjoyed it, more power to you, I’m genuinely glad you were able to overlook the stuff I wasn’t able to. I, however, fucking hated this episode, and I really hope it’s not an indicator of where episodes 9 & 10 are heading in terms of quality.

[aloneiswhatihave1895]

Stick a Sentence Prompt in my ask box :)

"Do you have any idea how embarrassing what you just did was?”

“I always make sure to film your bad ideas.” “It makes you wonder how gullible I really am.”

“I’ve been an awful person to you and I want to change that.” “It was easy to ignore what I was doing, because it didn’t affect me. I’m sorry. Truly.” “You can’t just pretend I don’t have feelings.”

“I secretly fact check everything you say to make sure you’re wrong.”

I hate when you get smug.” “I can’t argue with that logic.” “Does it get tiring, being right all the time?” “I’m a professional, so please address me like one.” “I told you that the chances of me messing up were really low, right?” “Stop focusing on my negatives.” “I’m not giving anyone false hope."

“Stop using science as an excuse. I’m not your test subject.”

"Ready to make me look bad?” “The only thing I wanted to do was help you.” “You imply I’ve never made mistakes as bad as this. Your implication is wrong.”

“I don’t like inviting people into my house.”

“Fantastic. Let’s just go through the front door and alert everyone. No way could that ever go wrong.” “I am made up of misunderstandings, you know?” “I wish I could lie about something like this, but I can’t.” “Look at me. I wasn’t kidding.” “We need to leave before they get here." "Loving you leaves me hurt.” “I hate this. Just talk to me! Stop walking away when I accidentally hurt you. I can change if you just tell me what’s wrong.” “Don’t make it easy on me. I like a good challenge.” “Whisper sweet nothings to me.” “You’re the only person I know who will baby talk at a plant.” “Do you think they can tell I’m nervous?” “Your crush was obvious to everyone- especially them.” “Why didn’t you do anything?” “Do I want to know why you’re laying on the floor like that?” “I’m still thinking about you.” “You don’t have to say a word if it’s too personal.” “I beg you- tell me how to fix this." "If I bribe you with an odd amount of cash, can you pretend to be my date next week?” “I hate parties and yet here I am. The things I do for you.” “If you feel the same, what’s the problem?” “You can drag my reputation through the dirt as many times as you want, but jealousy has never been a pretty look on you.” “Stop giving me those looks.” “Disappointment is my nickname." “You’ve saved my life more times than I can count on my hands. I want to return the favor.” “Look at me and tell me that you’re happy.” “I know they’re lying about something, but I don’t know what it could be.” “I let you in and it was the worst thing I’ve done in my life.” “You think I do these things because I want to?” “I’m just here to do my job. Move.” “I gave you plenty of time to think about what you did.” “No one will ever understand what you meant to me.” “Videos that can make me cry are not just limited to people being surprised with animals." "I’m nervous one hundred percent of the time.” “I want to change on my own terms, not yours.” “My goals and dreams are still so far away.” “Do you ever feel stuck?” “I see you haven’t retired from crime.” “I can’t believe they stole my chair." "Of all people I didn’t expect to be here, you were on top of that list.” “I get an odd satisfaction from seeing you fail.” “Cheer up. Your next attempt will be better, I’m sure.” “I’ve always had faith in you.

“Marry me.” “Do you want me to leave?” “You are not going without me.” “I can’t believe you!” “I swear it won’t happen again.” “What did you say?” “I’m not jealous.” “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” “We can’t keep doing this.” “Are you sure this is legal?”

“I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Stay the night. Please.”

“You can’t die. Please don’t die.”

“Run away with me.”

“You did WHAT?”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Don’t ask me that…”

“W- What are you doing?”

“Say it!”

“I could kiss you right now!”

“Are you still awake..?”

“Excuse you?”

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“Don’t give me that look! It wasn’t my fault!”

“I shouldn’t be in love with you!”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Listen to me!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“You shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s you, it always been you.”

“No, it was my fault for thinking that you might care.”

“When you love someone, you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Specially then!”

“Well this is awkward…”

“Just pretend to be my date”.  

“What about a compromise? I’ll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I’ll apologize.”

“I don’t hate you.. I just don’t like that you exist.”

“Do things that make you happy within the confines of the legal system.”

“It’s not that you’re wrong, exactly, you’re just extremely not right.”

“On a scale from, ’I can sometimes make important phone calls without crying’ to ’I have a stable job with a steady income, a spouse who loves me, a dog, and two kids who are screwed up minimally at worst’, how much of an adult are you?”

“You think I’m dumb enough to fall for that stupid move?”

“Despite the cliche, it’s not me, it’s you.”

“I vote today to be a pajama day.”

“You have to tell me why were committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

“I don’t leave messages. If I wanted to talk to a machine, I’d talk to my VCR.”

“I can be flexible. As long as everything is exactly the way I want it, I’m totally flexible.”

“You know we’re supposed to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it, too. I know you do.”

“Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

“I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore.”

“I am NOT crying, okay?! I’m allergic to jerks!”

“That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.”

“I’m ok, thank you. Just please, stop talking to me.”

“To the night you’ll never remember!”

“Excuse me, did the 12:15 bus come by already?”

“Could I sit here? All the other tables are full.”

“Are you meeting someone here? Because.. I think I’m that person.”

“You weren’t supposed to laugh! I’m so embarrassed!”

“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.”

“I could do that, but could doesn’t mean would.”

Do you need me to kill someone for you?”

“The whole street is blocked off. The police won’t tell us anything, but I think there’s been some kind of attack… Maybe a bomb?”

“Oh my god, are you okay? I’m calling the police. I think I saw who did this to you.”

“I’m weird, you’re weird, we could have weird little babies and live weirdly ever after if it wasn’t for the fact I find you repulsive.”

“It’s midnight, what do you want?”

“I think I know how to use a bed.”

“If I wake up in the morning and I’m dead… Wait.”

“You are completely unfit to handle a child.”

“We have to get out of this place. It is EVIL.”

“When in doubt curl into the fetal position and give up on life.”

“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

[thebrightestringaroundthemoon]

anyway time to use this blog for what i created it for i guess and type out a big long thing about how im a worthless piece of shit and should pour myself a nice big glass of creamer, sugar, and clorox. i literally serve like? no purpose? in life? at all? im a completely directionless failure that operates with about the complexity of a fucking roomba, running into the same goddamn couch over and over again and slightly redirecting. if i get lucky, i run into a different couch, but nothing fucking changes. i do the exact same thing over and over again: surround myself with wonderful, fantastic people, fuck it up and make them hate me, and then spiral into a pit of my own pointless fucking despair until i realize im such a fucking failure of a person i cant even muster the energy it takes to fucking die so i just get up again in the morning and go again. rinse and fucking repeat. and its not like i have some horrible life or anything, im just profoundly unfit to exist on this planet. i have wonderful friends who actually, honest to god care about me and its evidently not good enough for me?? so i just respond to everything by assuming the worst, spiralling, and being too much of a dumb bitch to fucking talk to A N Y B O D Y about A N Y T H I N G cuz i guess i’d rather make a dumb edgy tumblr blog named after the lyrics to a fucking asia song than actually solve any of my problems. i guess its too much to solve a problem when the fundamental core of who you are as a person is the fucking problem. i mean, there is a solution, but ive already covered why nobody needs to be worried about me doing that! bnobody needs to be worried about me doing anytuhing! accomplishing anything! ever becoming anything! ever managing to do much more than drag myself out of bed in the morning and inspire a profoundly sad mixture of pity and annoyance in everyone iv’e ever come into fucking contact with! im sitting here debating fixing the fucking apostrophe in the last sentence and its driving me fucking mad while real people have real fucking problems and my cardboard cutout ass bad edgy teen novel stupid bitch excuse for a person ass is sitting here doing THIS with my fucking time. I have things i shuold be doing, could be doing, but this is legitimately all i can bring myself to fucking contribute to society at this point. the surest sign that the people around me are fucking saints is that theyve stuck around this fucking long but honestly i dont fucking undeerstand. i guess thats the whole point of shit like saints, you arent supposed to be able to understand, its superhuman compassion, even for those who dont fucking deserve it. or maybe its just because i fundamentally dont work. i dont have any sort of actual power when it comes to my life. these are the idle musings of a bewildered spectator, the one person who comes to the party, stays sober, and sits on the sidelines and watches the fucking idiocy unfold. except instead of drunkenly stumbling around and telling my friends how much i love them, im stone cold sober and sitting on the sidelines watching myself fail to take even the most basic fucking steps towards fixing literally any problem that im dealing with. broken. non functional. i dunno if i was born a failure, though. i think that might be giving myself a little too much credit. other people were dealt infinitely worse hands than i was and they turned out fucking wonderful. i know a couple of them. no, i think im the way i am because of me. i probably had all the chances i needed to become something resembling a human being, and instead im whatever i am now. how can i be excited about some sort of future for myself when i can barely manage a relatively privliged day to day existance? i have friends, im not starving, im in college, i have an apartment. im far from rich but im able to afford to go to college. that should be enough. why the fuck isnt that enmough. why cant i just be fucking satisfied why cant i muster some sort of positive fucking emotions why does joy last a few moments why can i do this so much easier than writing anything positive about my life why does this flow like it does like a fucking river why cant i stop my hands why why what the fuck why why am i like this why was i born why am i who i am it flows so easily it just comes out but i cant tell anyone and i cant rely on anyone because im not anyone in noone im the fucking nobody that people keep around them to make themselves feel better and the only reason i have the slightest bit of doubt about that is that i love my friends too much to ever accuse them of something like that but then again does it fucking count when its someone like me do i qualify as a fucking person does it count as hurting someone’s feelings or using them when that someone isn’t a someone is just an empty fucking shell that was only gifted with the capacity to retain HURT thats all i can fucking remember thats all that sticks with me HURT i cant fucking be rid of it and its not some sort of innate inherent biological failing its who i am as a person i did this to myself i do this to myself i dont know that i will ever stop doing this to myself. all i can hope for is that one day i gain the strrength the fucking self esteem and self respect to kill myself. maybe it isnt self respect i need for that but respect for my friends. its selfish to put them through me. the pain they’d feel from my death would last a short time if at all. it would be so much better than forcing them to know me for however long this failing fucking body will carry my empty shell of a spirit onwards thjrough a world that i dont deserve to fucking inhabit. my inner monologyue put on paper sounds like a fucking evanescence song and i hate myself for it so much jesus fucking christ. i fundamentally do not like myself. as a person. on any level. i do not like myself. i wouldnt be friends with me, and ironically i hate myself for that too. but who would? who the fuck would? why does anyone? do they? maybe thats my one fucking talent. convincing people im likable. worming my way into their fucking lives until they trust me only to realize that i am not a human being. im an empty shell, a fucking roomba of a person. i can tell when ive run into something and back up so i can run into it again. i cannot solve my own problems. i cannot even conceptualize them. im something below a human cursed with the fucking ability to think at the level of one. my ocd is really really desperately trying to get me to scroll up and fix all the spelling and grammar errors but i dont know if itll hurt more to ignore them or to have to read the dumb ashit i just wrote. earlier i said that i wanted this to flow less easily and here we are i guess. though earlier i meant it in the context of only being able to properly conceptualize negative feelings and never being abkle to hold onto anything piositive i feel, and that hasn’t been magically fixed or anything, im just having trouble feeling anything at all now. im a completely blank slate. i havent even cried once troday. i cant. i cant care about my own fucking inadequacy and failure as a very basic human being enough to even fucking cry. i cried about an anime a couple nuights ago. i can muster emotion for that. but as soon as i look inwards i dont see ahyuthing thEres NOTHING FUICKING THERE THERE IS NOTHING FUCKING THERE THERE IS NOTHING FUCKING THERE I AM NOT A HUMAN BEING I AM NOT A HUMAN BEING I AM BROKEN I AM EMPTY I AM A {PLAGUE ON WHOEVER HAS THE PURE FUCKING MISFORTUNE TO BE A GOOD ENOUGH PERSON TO TAKE PITY ON ME i dont want to die, even. too many steps, too much feeling, too much. i just want to stop. to end. i want to no longer be. ill lock tghat away with all the other things id love to happen but know never will. that ones at the forefront though. it always will be. until i grow the fucking compassion to put others out of my misery. my roomate just texted me an innocuous questiona nd i texte d bacjk normally emojis and all im normal dont you see everyone im normal nothings wrong with me. oh sure sometimes i have a bad day but im fine everybody IM FINE you aren’t you have to put up with me ill fucking worm my way into your life and convince you im a real human being you can hold a congersation with only to snatch the fucking rug out from under you as soon as you actually attempt to engage with me on any level and i just end up eiother hurting you or revealing accidently that there is no such thing as luna thats not a fucking person its a name assigned to a loose collections of disorders, bad habits, and a gaping emotional black hoile from which nothing can fucking escape, jammed into an ugly broken body thats going to kill me early and doesnt even compensate by making me hot. wHEE. and of course, unable to be happy with anything, i will simultaneously complain about my own impending death due to horrific nutrition, subastance abuse (just the fun kinds so people dont realize anything is wrong WHEEEE) and some fucky illness that ive now gone and stopped medicating because im a stupid worthless bitch, AND I WILL COMPLAIN ABOUT THIS WHILE SIMULATENOUSLY WANTING TO DIE what do i want? who the fuck knows! not me! that’s a redundant statement, of course “me” doing know bercause thats not a thing im not a person! id love to blame it on my complete and total internal faliure as a person that i always end up hurting people, but honestly its probably because i dont put enough fucking effort in. even right now,. literally hours after a good friend of mine ostaroted feeling like shit in a way that is almost for sure my fucking fault, im doing THIS instead of trying to right the situation (to b fair she made a point of not inviting me but inviting the rest of the group?) or did she am i just reading into this? who knows! who the fuck knows! everyone but “me”! ejveryone else knows! becayuse its probably REALALLY FUCKING SIMPLE BUT NOOOOO I CANT EVEN MANAGE THAT CAN I I CANNNOT EVEN FUCKING MANMAGE TO MANAGE THAT CAN I thats too much for lil ol me! i am aggressively pointless! i am the single least important collection of fucking atoms on this planet! every last fucking rock i stepped on walking to and from the class that i skipped half of today is more important and has contribtued more to the grand scheme of things than i ever have or ever will, and thats jkust the inanimate fucking objects on the ground. lets not even get started on all the actual people whose time my existance waste, who i am a fucking affront to  by sheer virtue of being in any way associated with them at any point in time ever. i guess this is it, this is what i get when my entire personlaity is a loosely cobbled together collection of self deprecating jokes and a fake ego, desperately attempting to patch over an interior that has holes in it less than it just is one giant fucking hole. i was, am, and will be nothing, not even enough to earn the use of “I” at the beginning of the sentence. dinner is in 15 minutes. my friends will be there. im paralyzed. i belive every word i wrote above so why

would i inflict myself upon them but i 

i cant not

i so deeply want to

to go sit in uncharacteristic silence and hope somebnody notices and asks me whats up so i can give them a dumb, abridged, mostly fake version and get the sad pity looks and then feel bad about exploiting them and then

rinse

repeat

because i am not a person

[deepperfectiondinosaur-blog]

Do You Really Need To Invest In Drone Training

New drone pilots without training will certainly almost certainly crash their drone. Depending on the damage to the drone, it could be unfit for further usage. Nothing could switch off a budding interest in the pastime quicker than a busted uav. To prevent this tragedy, stick with more affordable designs (much less compared to $100) or obtain training prior to piloting a drone. While learning to pilot with an affordable model, a regrettable side effect for some users is that they become less enthusiastic regarding the hobby. More expensive UAVs supply more functions, far better camera video, and also are typically simpler to manage. New pilots typically fear damaging their brand-new investment. This increases some questions concerning the advantages of drone training. What does it cost? training is required to prepare a new pilot? Is it worth the cost, or are newbies much better off finding out via experience an actual crash course? For some functions, training is a necessity. As of August 2016, if drones are utilized for job-related functions, pilots should obtain a Remote Pilot Airman Certification and pass Transportation Safety Administration vetting. Some colleges as well as colleges offer training courses in UAV piloting skills. A few schools also permit trainees to small in Unmanned as well as Autonomous Systems Design. Numerous drone pilot training programs need regarding sixteen hrs of flight training to be certified, in addition to training on simulations. Drones are major organisation. For recreational uses, nevertheless, all of this is excessive. Accreditations and courses are not legally called for. Most training programs are merely meant to assist new individuals find out how you can pilot. Firms offer a broad price range when it comes to training. Though some residents may use lessons for as little as $50 a hr, the majority of professionals will certainly charge a per hour price someplace in between $100 to $150. Some programs are broken up into 8 hour class sessions and also can last 1 or 2 days. This type of training typically sets you back around $600 a day. A few services offer premium sessions that could set you back a number of thousand bucks, but they normally consist of a high-end drone for each and every trainee. Given the variety of alternatives around today, those who are interested should be able to locate a chance within their price array. Is training worth the investment? That depends on an individual s budget plan and also needs. Inning accordance with surveys, a lot of users get relatively comfy with piloting after concerning 4 to six hrs of airtime. If customers obtain 2 hours of experience, then method in an open area for a number of sessions, they need to be experienced enough to avoid amateur blunders. Generally, this implies that preparation would set you back concerning $200. Those who want getting involved in the pastime must analyze their spending plan before paying cash money for training. If the price of training would surpass the expense of the drone, it is probably not worth it. Lots of individuals will certainly be far better off simply purchasing an inexpensive drone to discover, considering that the expense of training could quickly overtake the price of an intermediate drone. A customer that want to begin with an intermediate to premium drone ought to consider buying training, given that it will certainly prevent them from seriously damaging their automobile. Newbie owners should consider what they wish to made with their drone. Owners seeking to utilize drones to take photos or video clips, bear in mind: Simply owning a drone will certainly not transform anybody right into a professional photographer. In order to take fantastic pictures with a drone, a fundamental understanding of photography is required. Tips on drones and also photo structure could be located here. Customers ought to focus on discovering the best ways to thoroughly pilot in tight areas, given that several shots are taken short. A standard understanding and also feel for controls must suffice for the majority of pilots. Those who want to make use of drones for auto racing ought to get lots of technique prior to taking on any kind of difficult trips. Newbies can learn a lot concerning drone auto racing by looking for neighborhood FPV meetups. Since FPV is commonly made use of in racing, it might likewise serve to check out tips for new FPV pilots. Reaching an affordable level in this field takes a lot of time and commitment, however it could be extremely satisfying. Proprietors must learn how to browse doglegs, controlling pitch, yaw, and roll simultaneously. Considerable training is recommended. The concern of whether training deserves it genuinely relies on each person s needs. While the rates for training may be steep, it can conserve cash over time by avoiding the demand for expensive fixings. On the other hand, one can learn how to drive an inexpensive drone with self-confidence, since the possible loss is less serious. Those seeking to enter into the hobby should identify exactly what choice is best on their own and plan accordingly. For more info about newest: trucks, cars, helicopters, drones, airplanes and other toys & hobbies products, visit AMainHobbies website! AMain Hobbies is a multi-channel retailer of RC - Radio Controlled hobby goods. Visit today!

[tenaciouspeacetheorist-blog]

Drone Training - Does It Worth The Investment

New drone pilots without training will certainly probably collapse their drone. Depending on the damage to the drone, it could be unfit for additional use. Nothing could switch off a fledgling rate of interest in the leisure activity quicker than a damaged uav. To prevent this catastrophe, stick with less costly versions (less compared to $100) or obtain training before piloting an uav. While discovering how to pilot with an affordable model, an unfavorable negative effects for some users is that they become less passionate about the pastime. Costlier UAVs supply more attributes, much better cam footage, and also are normally much easier to control. Nonetheless, new pilots often are afraid harming their brand-new financial investment. This elevates some inquiries concerning the advantages of drone training. What does it cost? training is needed to prepare a new pilot? Is it worth the price, or are newbies far better off finding out through experience a literal refresher course? For some objectives, training is a necessity. Since August 2016, if drones are made use of for job-related functions, pilots should get a Remote Pilot Airman Certification as well as pass Transportation Protection Management vetting. In fact, some schools provide training courses in UAV piloting abilities. A couple of schools also enable students to minor in Unmanned as well as Autonomous Solution Engineering. Many drone pilot training programs need concerning sixteen hrs of trip training to be accredited, along with training on simulations. Drones are significant company. For entertainment usages, nevertheless, all of this is excessive. Accreditations as well as classes are not legally needed. Most training programs are simply planned to help new users find out how you can pilot. Firms provide a vast price range when it involves training. Some citizens might offer lessons for as little as $50 a hr, most experts will certainly charge a per hour price someplace in between $100 to $150. Some programs are separated right into eight hour course sessions and can last a couple of days. This kind of training normally sets you back around $600 a day. A few services supply exceptional sessions that could set you back several thousand dollars, but they usually consist of a premium drone for each and every pupil. Offered the variety of options available today, those that are interested should be able to discover an opportunity within their rate array. Is training worth the investment? That depends upon a person s spending plan and needs. According to surveys, a lot of customers obtain fairly comfy with piloting after concerning 4 to six hours of airtime. If users obtain two hours of experience, after that method in an open field for several sessions, they should be experienced sufficient to avoid amateur blunders. Usually, this means that prep work would cost regarding $200. Those who want getting involved in the hobby needs to evaluate their spending plan before paying cash money for training. If the expense of training would certainly exceed the price of the drone, it is possibly ineffective. Lots of customers will be much better off merely purchasing a low-cost drone to discover, because the expense of training can easily outstrip the expense of an intermediate drone. A customer who intend to start with an intermediate to premium drone must think about buying training, since it will certainly prevent them from seriously damaging their automobile. Newbie proprietors should consider what they wish to made with their drone. Proprietors looking to utilize drones to take images or video clips, bear in mind: Just owning a drone will certainly not transform any individual right into a specialist digital photographer. In order to take fantastic pictures with a drone, a basic understanding of photography is required. Tips on drones and also photo make-up could be found below. Users must focus on discovering the best ways to carefully pilot in limited areas, because numerous shots are taken close to the ground. A basic understanding and feel for controls must be enough for the majority of pilots. Those who intend to use drones for racing should get a lot of method prior to dealing with any kind of tough trips. Newbies could find out a great deal concerning drone auto racing by looking for local FPV meetups. Considering that FPV is commonly utilized in racing, it could additionally work to check out pointers for brand-new FPV pilots. Getting to an affordable degree in this field takes a great deal of time and commitment, but it can be very gratifying. Owners have to find out ways to navigate doglegs, regulating pitch, yaw, and also roll concurrently. Substantial training is advised. The inquiry of whether or not training deserves it really depends upon everyone s needs. While the prices for training could be steep, it can conserve money in the future by avoiding the requirement for costly fixings. On the various other hand, one can learn to own a cheap drone with confidence, considering that the potential loss is less extreme. Those wanting to enter the pastime must identify just what option is right on their own as well as plan accordingly. If you wish to discover more about latest hobbies and toys products AMain Hobbies is a multichannel retailer of RC - Radio Controlled hobby items. Visit today!

[automaticfoxsweets-blog]

Here's What You Need To Know About Drone Training -AMainHobbies

Novice drone pilots without training will certainly likely collapse their UAV. Depending on the damage to the drone, it might be unfit for additional use. Nothing could switch off a budding rate of interest in the hobby faster compared to a damaged drone. To prevent this disaster, stick to less costly versions (less than $100) or get training before piloting a drone. While discovering how to pilot with an inexpensive design, an unfavorable negative effects for some customers is that they come to be much less enthusiastic about the pastime. More expensive UAVs supply even more features, better electronic camera video, as well as are usually simpler to manage. New pilots often are afraid harming their new investment. This increases some inquiries regarding the advantages of drone training. How much training is required to prepare a brand-new pilot? Is it worth the expense, or are newbies far better off learning through experience a literal refresher course? For some functions, training is a necessity. Since August 2016, if drones are made use of for occupational functions, pilots must get a Remote Pilot Airman Certificate and pass Transport Safety and security Administration vetting. Some universities and colleges offer programs in UAV piloting skills. A couple of schools even allow students to minor in Unmanned and Autonomous Equipment Engineering. Many drone pilot training programs call for concerning sixteen hours of flight training to be accredited, in addition to training on simulations. Drones are major organisation. For leisure usages, nevertheless, all this is excessive. Accreditations as well as classes are not legally called for. A lot of training programs are merely meant to help new individuals discover ways to pilot. Firms use a wide rate range when it comes to training. Some locals may offer lessons for as little as $50 an hour, the majority of specialists will bill a hourly rate someplace in between $100 to $150. Some programs are broken up right into eight hour course sessions and could last a couple of days. This kind of training normally costs around $600 a day. A couple of companies supply premium sessions that can cost numerous thousand dollars, yet they normally consist of a premium drone for every pupil. Provided the number of options around today, those that are interested need to be able to locate a chance within their rate variety. Is training worth the financial investment? That depends upon an individual s budget plan and also requirements. According to surveys, a lot of customers obtain fairly comfortable with piloting after regarding 4 to six hours of airtime. If customers get 2 hrs of experience, after that technique in an open area for several sessions, they ought to be experienced enough to avoid amateur blunders. Generally, this indicates that preparation would certainly set you back regarding $200. Those that want getting into the leisure activity ought to assess their budget before plunking down cash money for training. If the cost of training would go beyond the cost of the drone, it is most likely not worth it. Several customers will certainly be much better off just getting a low-cost drone to learn, given that the expense of training can quickly overtake the expense of an intermediate drone. A user that want to begin with an intermediate to high-end drone needs to think about buying training, given that it will certainly stop them from seriously harming their car. Newbie proprietors ought to consider what they intend to do with their drone. Proprietors looking to make use of drones to take photos or video clips, remember: Just owning a drone will not transform anybody into a specialist photographer. In order to take fantastic pictures with a drone, a basic understanding of digital photography is required. Tips on drones and also picture structure can be discovered right here. Users should concentrate on discovering the best ways to thoroughly pilot in tight spaces, considering that many shots are taken close to the ground. A basic understanding and also understanding of controls must be sufficient for a lot of pilots. Those who wish to make use of drones for auto racing must obtain plenty of method prior to tackling any type of difficult trips. Newbies could find out a lot about drone auto racing by seeking neighborhood FPV meetups. Because FPV is often used in auto racing, it might likewise work to read up on tips for brand-new FPV pilots. Getting to a competitive level in this field takes a lot of time and commitment, however it could be really rewarding. Owners need to find out how you can browse doglegs, managing pitch, yaw, and also roll at the same time. Considerable training is advised. The concern of whether training deserves it genuinely depends on each person s needs. While the costs for training might be high, it might save cash in the future by preventing the demand for pricey repair services. On the various other hand, one could discover how to drive an inexpensive drone with self-confidence, since the prospective loss is much less serious. Those wanting to enter into the leisure activity should determine what choice is best for themselves and also strategy accordingly. Find the latest hobbies and toys products! AMain Hobbies is a multi-channel retailer of RC - Radio Controlled hobby goods. Visit today!