#smart home satire

[untypicable]

Why Does My Microwave Have Wi-Fi?

In the not-so-distant past, microwaves were simple creatures. You pushed a button, turned a dial, or maybe pressed a few overly sensitive touchpads, and voilà—hot food. But modern microwaves, like much of today’s technology, have evolved far beyond their humble origins. Now, they boast features like Wi-Fi connectivity, voice activation, and apps that can supposedly “enhance your cooking…

[sassysnowperson]

How Not to Read Terry Pratchett's Discworld Novels

With the very exciting fantasy books poll bracket going on Discworld and how to read it is in the zeitgeist again. I figured I would take a crack at adding to this important topic with a guide drawn from my own chaotic mess of a reading journey:

Learn that Terry Pratchett is a fantasy author that several people whose reading taste you admire enjoy. He apparently blends comedy, good plotting, and a world that is both grounded and satirical and you're a big fan of all those things.

Fabulous! Decide to read some of his work.

Go to your local library. Love a good library. You're new to the area, so you're also exploring the library for the first time, too.

You have found Terry Pratchett! Points to you! Pull a book off the shelf at random. It's called The Dark Side of the Sun.

Start reading. Realize that this feels more like sci-fi than fantasy. Sigh in smug superiority about people who get the two confused.

Realize about halfway through that this is not, in fact, a Discworld book.

Nobody warned you the guy wrote other things!

It's still good, tho. Maybe a little rough but this was an older book and the author clearly has potential. Let's try again.

Review his works. The vast majority are Discworld. You are highly unlikely to grab another non-Discworld book. Go back to the Terry Pratchett section of the library.

Oh hey he wrote a book with Neil Gaiman! You've hears of that guy!

Grab Good Omens off the shelf.

Take it home, realize, much sooner, that this is also not a Discworld book. Still enjoy yourself thoroughly. You should read more of this Gaiman dude, too.

But okay. For real this time. Go back to the library and don't leave without *CONFIRMING* you have a Discworld book this time.

Grab a book. Look at the cover. Read the back Discworld! Ha HA! You've done it!

It's called Thud.

You are utterly gripped by a story of a man wrestling with himself, his growing child, the political tensions of a city and extremism that echoes reality beautifully while still being entirely true to itself. It's a story of responsibility and love and building communities and Fantasy Chess. You are driven nearly to tears by the sentence *WHERE IS MY COW?*

You emerge from the book fundamentally changed as a person, and finally understanding what all the fuss is about. You are now a Terry Pratchett reader for life.

You realize Thud was in the middle of a series. That was a part of another series. That explains why there was a feeling that you were supposed to know some of these people already.

You finally find one of those flowcharts and figure out a more sensible reading order.

I always sort of laugh when people ask where to start reading Discworld, because Thud would be first on absolutely nobody's sensible Terry Pratchett reading order. I'm still tempted to recommend it though!

(My actual advice: Going Postal if you love con men being stuck doing the right thing, Wee Free Men if you like YA and smart angry girls owning their own power, Guards! Guards! *and* Men at Arms if you like crime shows with heart and are okay giving earlier work a try (the quality gets better and better, but I think it needs at least two books to get you into it), and Monstrous Regiment if you like gender and queer feelings, anti-war books told in the middle of a war, and/or would prefer a stand alone novel...and, you know, Thud if you want a great read and don't mind some chaos.)

[catscidr]

// genshin men as podcast hosts //

i don't have anything to say for myself i just thought this was really funny LMAO suddenly thought about this in the shower like a week ago nd i couldn't stop giggling to myself ( ´艸｀) cw: crack, wrote this with a modern au in mind (unless there's podcasts in teyvat.......) includes: alhaitham, ayato, pantalone, tartaglia, kaeya, albedo, cyno, heizou, lyney, venti, dottore, itto, kaveh, kazuha, wriothesley

the satirical Chad Alpha Sigma Male ↳alhaitham, ayato, pantalone, tartaglia, kaeya

Whether they’re giving ridiculous financial advice, telling people how to get women to like them or spouting absurd political takes, they somehow have a loyal fanbase. They’re always playing up the Sigma Male persona for the sake of satire but, because this is the internet, people take them seriously.

They'll say something nonsensical like “you should treat women like you treat your nonstick frying pans” and their listeners will eat it up, praising them for such a smart analogy when, in reality, their podcast setup consists of their laptop and a mic set up at their kitchen table and they just laid eyes on a skillet while they were rambling about nothing in particular. Doesn’t matter how they speak either; they could have a typical, exaggerated youtuber accent or always speak in a deadpan tone- people will still take what they say at face value and miss the irony and satire.

Seeing people argue online entertains them, though. Plus they make good money

the one that always has homoerotic tension with their guests (no homo tho) ↳albedo, cyno, heizou, lyney, venti

Their podcast isn’t organized, they kind of just ramble about whatever topic comes to mind. There’s no theme, no plan when they start recording- they basically just have a conversation with whoever they’re recording with and see where it goes. Sometimes they could be cracking jokes about the corniest things (___er? i hardly know her!) or they’ll be having deep conversations about their childhood and why they turned out this way.

OR. They’ll chat with their guest and turn what they say into a dumb sex joke, even if it’s a stretch. Podcast episodes with them are always hilarious to listen to, the kind that you can’t listen to in public because you’ll end up holding in your laughter and making yourself look like a Fool.

They have the best vibes, too; listening to them and their guest makes you feel like you’re a part of the recording session, even if you can’t respond to them 

has THE most outlandish storytimes ↳ dottore, itto, kaveh, kazuha, wriothesley

Every single podcast episode with them is absolutely unhinged. They’ll start the recording with their intro, and then they’ll hit you with the most insane storytime opener. There’s no line to cross either; it doesn’t matter what kind of story they have in store, they will talk about it (and make it funny, even if it might not be). One time when they uploaded one of their podcast episodes to YouTube it ended up getting age-restricted in the first five minutes.

They’re the kind of host that can captivate anyone when they’re telling a story, whether they’re speaking in an extremely animated manner or in a convincingly serious tone. Whenever they have special guests over, they make it an unspoken challenge to one-up eachother on who has the craziest story to tell (most of the time they’re the winner).

Their podcast is the kind of thing you listen to while you’re getting ready in the morning... though it might not be the best idea because 9 times out of 10, you stop in your tracks to stare at your laptop screen in disbelief to listen to them talk about the time they accidentally set off the fire alarm in a retirement home and what happened in consequence to that 

[tomorrowusa]

Historian and writer on democracy Timothy Snyder says that there should be no question as to who is dominant in the Musk-Trump relationship.

Allies and aides to Donald Trump should be increasingly concerned by Elon Musk’s proximity to and influence on the US president-elect, the Yale historian and bestselling author Timothy Snyder said. “Trump is a little guy, and Musk is a big guy when it actually comes to having money,” Snyder said. “And I think if you were a friend of Trump, you would be worried.” [ ... ] Snyder expects that Trump’s soon-to-be home, the White House, will be a stage for uncomfortable and damaging discord between the president-elect and his most powerful ally, the world’s richest man. “I think we overestimate Trump and we underestimate Musk,” Snyder said. “People can’t help but think that Trump has money, but he doesn’t. He’s never really had money. He’s never even really claimed to have money. His whole notion is that you have to believe that he has money. But he’s never been able to pay his own debts. He’s never been able to finance his own campaigns. “Musk, with an amount of money that was meaningless to him, was able to finance Trump’s campaign, essentially.” [ ... ] Since Trump’s victory in November, from Mar-a-Lago in Florida to Notre Dame in Paris, Musk has been constantly at Trump’s side, earning the satirical nickname “first buddy” but also an appointment with the biotech investor Vivek Ramaswamy to jointly head the “department of government efficiency”, or “Doge”, a group tasked with meeting Trump’s wildly ambitious campaign promise of slashing trillions from federal spending. Considering instances of Musk’s apparent influence over Trump as the president-elect has struggled to control congressional Republicans – an unruly party already split on how to continue funding the government they also want to defund – Snyder said: “All the threats that Trump is now going to issue – ‘I’m going to primary people, I’m going to sue people’ – Musk is going to pay for that, not Trump. And when Trump needs money for anything, he’s going to be asking Musk. “Unless Trump breaks it off right now, he’s going to be in this kind of dependent relationship for the rest of the way, because you get used to people giving you money … and I think if you were a friend of Trump, you would be worried.”

Prof. Snyder has invented a name for this peculiar relationship.

“So I thought about this dependency position,” Snyder said. “I was going to call it Muskotrumpovia, because I think Musk is a more important person, but Trumpomuskovia had a nicer ring to it. “And also, I wanted Muskovia because I wanted the idea of Russia to be there in the background, because a lot of smart Russia hands are saying this all the time: this is kind of like the 1990s in Russia. You have the doddering, rich-but-not-very-rich president [Boris Yeltsin], surrounded by more youthful, more active, ambitious oligarchs. That’s the kind of scenario [America is] in.”

Trump thinks he's Vladimir Putin but he's more like Boris Yeltsin – but stupid instead of drunk like ol' Boris.

[viperixsworld]

GUTS, luke castellan x oc(prologue)

summary: where an aphordite daugther falls for this lying hermes boy.

disclaimer: english is not my firt language.

We don't get to choose who we fall in love with.

Arianne knew that. She believed it to her core. Love was something magical and illogical. Her own father, said it when he told her about her mom. Apparently, she was a beautiful young woman that crossed paths with Nicholas Deveraux (her father) during his travels in Europe before officially settle down in the family business in Chicago.

Everyone expected that Nicholas would come back from Europe with a bad tan and a few souvenirs, not a freaking newborn baby daugther.

Nicholas was a loving father, but not a really smart man. That is It's one of the reasons she didn't question when a man showed up at her Chicago home, offering her only daughter a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school.

Arianne came to camp half-blood when she was thirteen years old. After some encounters with several monsters, Chiron himself went to her doorstep in Chicago to get her to camp.

Nevertheless, during her arrival there was an incident. An incident involving three more demigod, a satire and a cyclops.

Arianne was claimed a few weeks after the attack, same as the two demigos that survived. Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, and Annabeth Chase, daugther of Atenea.

And let me tell you, Arianne Deveraux didn't choose to fall for the son of the Traveler. It was fate, or maybe was her mother ? She wasn't really sure. They started off as friends, adapting to camp at same time, being the same age, having the same friends.

Arianne was a nice, generous and beautiful girl, she was the perfect definition of an Aphordite daugther. Everyone that knew her personally (and even those who didn't) held her close to their hearts. Knowing that if you had to trust someone, you could trust Arianne Deveraux.

It was also a flaw, being the goodie older sister of Camp Half-blood.

At sixteen, she was named captain of Aphordite cabin. At the same time, Luke Castellan was named captain of Hermes cabin. They started to spend more time together, attending bonefire together, sparring together... Then the gifts started, Luke liked how her eyes would shine everytime she opened a present, no matter how stupid or simple. He would get her little details, It was his way of showing love, his love language, and her siblings would beg her to ask Luke to please, please, get them things for the cabin.

On the othet hand, Arianne would be (even without her knowing) the best of the presents for Luke. She was kind and beautiful, and gave him all the attetion he craved. And even Annabeth liked her, and would let her do her hair when she was tired. She was a part of their little, broken family.

Sometimes, Ari would cover up for Luke, when he sneak out to get things for other half-bloods and for himself. Like a PlayStation or some chess board for Annabeth, or his little presents for Ari.

Sometimes, Luke would sneak her in the Big House, to use the phone to talk to her father.

Every friday night, the would sit in the shore of the lake, to talk about everything or to be completly silent. Every time the scar on Luke's face hurt, Ari would stay by his side and try to ease the pain. Every time Ari felt like the stress of carring everyones problems and her owns, Luke was there to relieve her.

They were partners in crime, always there for each other.

That, until an enemy emerges from the shadows and resentment.

That, until one betrays the other.

Until Arianne Deveraux feels love and hate in her guts.

[macfrog]

2003: a dbf odyssey

a @chloeangelic x @macfrog fic

greetings greetings one and all. welcome to the fucking circus. chloe cupcake and i have a gift for you. we put our heads together, took turns writing a classic dbf fic, and here is the hellscape we created. please enjoy. [this is entirely satirical and just for funsies. no harm intended. no tw discourse required. love u]

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: your dad's best friend, in your childhood bedroom, with his hard cock out. and that's all we have to say on that

warnings: unspecified age gap, tale set in 2003, female masturbation, creepy joel, praise kink, size kink, fingering, unprotected piv, degradation, angst!

word count: 4.6k

chloe's masterlist | max's masterlist

The sun shines through the window of your childhood bedroom. You’re still reeling from an argument you just had with your mom, over the degree you just spent four years and fifteen grand on. She doesn't understand your passion for fossils, she never has, and during every family function, only one person asks you how school is going. 

Joel Miller, your dad's best friend.

He’s tall. Broad. He’s built like a Dorito. Flamin’ Hot Cool Ranch. He drives a truck and he listens to dad rock. One time you saw him in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. You asked what that was, and he said it was a band from “before your time, darlin’”. You swooned at the pet name. 

He’s quiet and unassuming. Lingers on the outskirts of every gathering your parents throw. He likes to talk about construction, and wood carving, and little else. At least, that’s what you thought, before you came back home after graduating. 

Suddenly, he started glancing in your direction every time you came into the room wearing a tight little top with significant cleavage. He would clear his throat at dinner and wipe a bead of his sweat from his forehead at BBQs. 

You always called him Mr Miller, and ever since graduation, that name made him blush. Last Thanksgiving, when his family was over for dinner at your parents’ house, you started asking him about old movies, and he grumbled, then told you about 2001: A Space Odyssey. 

He said he couldn’t believe that a girl with a paleontology degree had never seen A Space Odyssey before. Promised he’d show you it sometime. ”Smart girl like you will love it,” he said. 

You had opened your mouth to respond, to lend him the quirkiest retort you could think of, when your dad had bumbled into the room, shoving you out of the way. He brought up the latest Austin Ice Bats game, took Joel up in a conversation you couldn’t be a part of - you knew nothing about minor league ice hockey. 

Your mom called you through to the kitchen and asked you to help her with dinner. When you came into the kitchen, she started asking you if you’d gone on any dates recently, if there were any cute guys in your college classes. 

You rolled your eyes, “No, mom, none of them are my type.” 

She huffed while handing you a pot of mashed potatoes, “What’s your type then?” 

You didn’t want to tell her that your type was older men. Really old, in their fifties. Your type was Joel, but you couldn’t tell her that. Instead, you described what you thought Joel might’ve looked like when he was younger. “Brown hair, beards maybe,” you said, and turned on your heel before walking into the dining room and setting the pot on the table. 

You glanced over the place settings. Your mom had already put down everyone’s drinks. Yours and Sarah’s - a glass of water each. She says water helps with clear skin. Her own - a white Russian cocktail. And your dad and Joel’s, side by side - two beers, dripping with condensation. You paced around the table, formulating a plan. 

As your mom’s voice drew nearer down the hallway, you quickly switched Joel’s beer for Sarah’s water, sitting him next to you.

When he came into the dining room with your father, you noticed that Joel was looking at you with dark, sultry eyes. He gave you a tight lipped smile as he sat down in his chair, then turned to your mother, “Looks great.” You felt his knee knock into yours under the table, but he didn’t move away. Heat pooled in your stomach. Your chest tightened, threatening to burst from the confines of your tight t-shirt.

The same t-shirt you’re wearing right now - sat at the end of your bed. Remembering the way his denim jeans felt on your bare leg. You lie back on your sheets and stare at the ceiling, thinking of his swollen muscles under his flannel shirt. The tuft of chest hair sprouting from over the collar. The veins in his hands as he passed you the salt. 

You were holding a pair of jeans in your hands, about to slide them over your legs when you looked down to see a wet spot in your panties, and now you can’t ignore the throbbing in your core at the thought of seeing him again. 

You carefully trace your fingers over your panties, grazing the wet spot, feeling your cheeks burning from the awareness that it’s your dad’s best friend making you wet. 

You lift the skirt of your barleycorn sundress and open your legs, knees wide on your springy mattress. You hope that it doesn’t make a sound as you push the fabric aside, dragging your fingers over your most sensitive spot.”Joel,” you whimper when your fingertip brushes your wet opening, but you’re startled when you hear the doorbell ringing. 

You pull your hand out quickly and your eyes flare open, chest heaving. You sit up, throw your legs over the side and slip on your jeans, button them up and turn to look at yourself in the mirror before heading downstairs, feeling the low throb deep inside of you as you carefully walk out into the hallway and hear your father greeting Joel as he comes in the door. 

“Howdy,” he says when he spots you descending the staircase.

You hold tight onto the handrail, afraid you might topple over from the sight of him and the fluttering between your legs. “Hi.”

Joel’s eyes travel from your face down your body, ending up on your legs. You suddenly feel self-conscious, but all the same, secretly thrilled that he’s staring at you in this way. You stare back, eyeing him up and down from his scruffy beard to his dusty lace-up boots. Your eyes meet again as you reach the bottom step.

Joel sniffs once. “The hell are you wearing a dress and jeans for?” he asks.

“It’s called fashion,” you sass, and he grunts in response. “Ready to watch the movie?”

“I’m readier than a fried egg on the San Antonio Boulevard sidewalk, darlin’.” There’s that pet name again. You bite your lip and walk into the living room, trying to regulate your breathing. Your dad is already on the couch, remote control in hand, saying he has rewinded the DVD and that the two of you are being slowpokes. 

“The old man’s got jokes,” Joel grumbles, motioning for you to sit down in between him and your dad. 

The three of you put your feet up on the coffee table in front of you. You angle your feet towards Joel’s, your pinkie toe nudging against the sole of his boot. He crosses his ankles and settles back into the couch, folding his arms and prodding your side with his elbow.

“It’s a classic,” he mutters, and you giggle.

Your dad’s head whips around to face you from your peripheral like he is watching a tennis match. “What’s so funny?” he bleats.

“Nothing,” you and Joel chime, focusing hard on the screen. You smile smugly at the fact that you have an inside joke with him, something just between the two of you.

You can’t focus on the movie when your dad turns it on, and you suspect that Joel can’t either by the way he shifts around in his seat. “Got ants in your butt, buddy?”, your dad snorts, and Joel waves dismissively while you stifle your laughter. 

“Just feel like I’m sinkin’ into the couch here,” Joel says, “‘S too soft.” 

Soft, you replay the way he says it, over and over in your mind. You wonder if he’ll think you’re soft if he touches you with his rough hands.

“This movie sucks,” you announce, halfway through. “I can’t believe I had never heard of it. I thought it only came out two years ago?”

Joel snorts. “It came out in 1968 and was directed by Stanley Kubrick, dingus. 2001 is just the title of the film.”

Your face flushes fifty shades of fuchsia. Your dad guffaws on your left side, clapping his hands together like an annoying seal. His laughter is so loud that he almost doesn’t hear his cell phone ringing until you point it out to him. 

“Yellow,” he says as he answers, and chuckles at his own joke, then holds up his finger and turns to the side, mumbling something into his phone. “Be there in twenty,” he says, then hangs up, and turns to you and Joel, “Gotta go pick up your mom but I should only be about forty five minutes as long as she doesn’t drag me into a conversation with her girlfriends. Y’all gonna be okay here?” 

You both nod and sit still as your dad groans and gets up from the couch, listening as he disappears into the hallway to put on his shoes and jacket, then the door shutting. 

You go to grab the remote control to keep playing the movie, and accidentally spill some of the Coke from the can you’re holding. Joel is looking at the screen while you look at the dark stain on the couch cushion, and instead of getting up to get a paper towel to clean it with, you scoot a little closer to Joel. 

He clears his throat and puts his hand on the back of the couch, right behind your shoulders, not saying a word. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife and you glance down at his crotch to see the bulge in his jeans, then look up at him. 

He looks at you for a second, then furrows his brows, “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“Thinkin’ about bones.”

“Bones?”

“Specifically the one in your pants, Mr. Miller,” you say and bat your eyelashes, and then, “Just kidding.” You turn your head back to the TV but you can see that he’s still looking at you. “I was actually thinking about the Micropachycephalosaurus.” 

“What did you say ‘bout my pants, darlin’? Could swear you said somethin’”

“Nothing, I promise,” you giggle and look away. 

Then his hand comes to your thigh, long fingers splayed over your jeans, thumb tracing back and forth, igniting a flame inside of you. 

“W-what are you doing, Mr. Miller?”, you ask nervously, feeling the heat pooling in your panties again, and this time, it’s not because of your imagination. 

“Lookin’ real pretty tonight,” he says, and his other hand comes to your shoulder. You whimper at his touch. “Can just call me Joel, you know that,” he scolds with a wink.

“Th-thanks, Joel.” 

You feel his hand come up under your chin with a featherlight touch, turning your face up to meet his eyes. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your face feels hot, your heart beating fast. 

He looks at you through big brown eyes. You blink softly back, trying to transmit a code to him to clue him in on the ache making your thighs clench. You wonder if he knows Morse.

Joel grips your jaw and leans in, his smoldering eyes flashing between yours and your lips. He purses his own and before you know it, his warm mouth is flush against yours, his tongue pushing inside. He licks along the rim of your teeth and you open your jaw, letting him explore your wet gums.

In an instant, you pull yourself on top of him and remove his flannel, ripping the buttons apart and scattering the cloth to the couch. Joel’s hands curve around your round tits, he rolls your pebbled nipples between his thumbs like fiddling with a console controller. You roll your hips forward with a moan.

He's so hard. You look at him with wide eyes and a pout, “You're so hard.” 

“Are you wet f’me, pretty girl?”, he asks. You know it's wrong, your dad could be home any moment, but you frantically nod. 

“Good girl,” he says, and traces his fingers along the edge of your jeans, barely making contact with your skin. 

He stands from the couch in one fluid motion, and you squeal at the sudden way in which you’re lifted in the safe grasp of his arms. It’s astounding how strong he is. How able he is to sweep you into the air, carry you out of the living room. How his biceps bulge as his boots thud up the stairs one by one.

He reaches the landing and pauses, eyes scanning the four closed doors. He steps forward and kicks open the one closest to your bodies, before realizing it is the bathroom and reversing out again.

“Pardon me,” he mumbles an apology, and you giggle again.

“It’s the one on the right,” you instruct, and he shuffles down the hall carpet before bumping your door open. He pauses for a moment when he enters the room - your childhood bedroom. 

“Haven't been in here in years,” he says, and you know he's referring to when he helped your dad take out the old closets and replace them with new ones. You still have the same closets. Maybe he's admiring his work. You look at the posters on the wall and your floral bedspread. 

Then he lays you down on the bed and sighs. “These old knees,” he grumbles, “And my fuckin’ back.” 

You giggle. 

“Mind if I take this off, darlin’?”, he asks, gently tugging at the bottom of your barleycorn sundress. You nod again, feeling your face getting hot and your panties sticking to your pussy. 

Your back arches as he slips the thin fabric from your body, your breasts spilling out of their polyester prison. Joel straightens up, admires the view and hums to himself.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he muses, then bends again to press his body against yours. His fingers tussle with the waist of your jeans, the petite buttons only women's clothing seems to have, and you growl at the effort it takes for him to derobe you. 

“I know,” he says, lips close to your ear, “‘S these big ol’ hands. They get in the way of everythin’, baby.”

You whimper pathetically, wanting nothing more than those big hands to get in the way of you. You shove your fists beneath the denim when he finally undoes the zipper, and help him drag them from your legs. As soon as the heavy fabric hits your floor, Joel’s removing his own jeans. Now, only your underwear and his separate you.

There's a wet spot on his boxers already and you whimper when you place your fingertip on it, biting your lip when he growls at the sensation. “M-Mr. Miller,” you whine, “Can I see your cock? It looks really big.” 

“‘S real big, sweetie, are you sure you can handle it?” 

“Y-yes, Joel, I'm a big girl.” 

“‘F you say so,” he grumbles, then takes off his boxers, and you admire the sight of his manhood. You've never seen a big cock like that, a real thick and long one. You don't think it'll fit inside and you gasp, eyes flashing open while you start to creep backwards on the sheets. 

“Keep the panties on,” Joel orders, following between your legs. His hairy knees push deep into the plush cushion of your mattress, his fist jerks slowly up and down his dick, which seems to only grow larger the closer he gets.

You nod obediently, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes stick on the dribble of precum he swipes with his thumb. You fall back, head sinking into your pillows, and Joel hovers over you, one hand by your head. 

You peel your underwear to the side, now positively soaked. Joel’s hand leaves his member to cup you, feeling your dripping mess. “So wet f’me,” he whispers, and you moan, long and ragged. 

Then he touches the tip of his finger to your opening and watches you squirm while he starts to push it in, entering you with one thick finger. You take all of it in stride, and you frown when he retracts it. 

“So eager,” he says triumphantly, then adds another, and you feel the coil inside you start to tighten. You can't reach as deep as he does, nobody can except for him. Your dad's best friend, in your childhood bedroom, with his hard cock out. Tears start pricking your eyes as you get closer. 

You whine, “I’m gonna come, Mr. Miller.”

He clicks his tongue, “Just Joel,” and then he picks up the pace of his fingers, pushing them inside you until you gush all over your sheets and his hand, feeling the tears sliding down your temples and your fists gripping the sheets tightly. He made you come, it's like a wet dream. 

You gasp when you see the mess you made and he chuckles. “Sorry Just Joel - I mean,” you shake your head, clearing the hazy fog of sex your orgasm left behind, “Joel.” Your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“No need to apologize, sweet girl,” he whispers, pinching your cheek with his soaked fingers. Your own cum stains your skin, somehow cooling against the stifling hot air in your room. The air filled with lust and sex.

He draws his hand back, wraps it back around his cock, rubs your gleaming slick up and down his thickness. He groans as you coat him, head tilting back to the ceiling. For a second, you wonder if he will actually fuck you, or if he’s just here to jerk off using your cum, kneeling over you.

Your query is answered when he returns his gaze to yours and leans over you again, running the tip between your folds. Your body jolts at the contact, overstimulated and spent already. But Joel doesn’t care. The man gives no fucks.

“Fuckin’ tight,” he groans as he makes space for himself inside you, pushing the head in and impaling you on his fat girth. You feel so full. 

He bottoms out and moans. You watch a drop of sweat gliding from his hairline and down his temple, then crane your neck up to kiss it. His tip kisses your cervix on every thrust and you grip his broad shoulders, hanging onto him while he pounds you. 

“Good girl, takin’ this big fat cock,” he praises, panting into the crook of your neck. 

“Oh, fuck,” you feel the band inside of you tightening, about to snap, but then he pulls out of you and wraps his fingers around his cock again, stroking himself and snarling when he tells you to turn around. 

You’re spent, limbs wrung out like a rag, but you force yourself up while you look at his cock dumbly, seeing his precum dripping out and onto your sheets. Suddenly, you hear him, “What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart?”, and you immediately turn around and onto your hands and knees, seeing a photo of your parents on your window sill. 

You screw your eyes shut so you don’t think about them, and try to focus on Joel penetrating you from behind in one motion, going full hog, filling you to the brim with cock. “F-feels so good, Joel,” you squirm and moan while he slips his large hands onto your hips, fingers splaying out over the curve of your asscheeks, pulling you back so he can fill you relentlessly. 

His skin slaps against yours, the air in the room quickly filling with nothing but the sounds of his moans and yours, his wet and yours, his body and yours. Your eyes squeeze tight until you see stars, raining down over the darkness behind your eyelids. Your whole bed shakes vigorously with the rate Joel pounds into you, mattress knocking against your nightstand and sending the objects on it tumbling to the floor.

Joel notices as one in particular - your Satisfyer Pro 2 Gen 2 Air Pulse Stimulator, which you find good but really intense with its sucking power - rolls across the wooden floor. His grip tightens on your hips and he chuckles. “‘S a good girl like you doin’ with a thing like that in her room, huh?”

Your back curls. You moan in response. “Umm,” you mumble nervously, trying to think of a response when you see his lips curve into a smirk, “I- I was trying to come, last night.” 

“Oh yeah? Thinkin’ bout what, young lady?” 

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You were thinking about him. He can tell - he brushes his thumb over your cheek. “Were you thinkin’ about me, darlin’?”, he asks, and you don’t respond. You look at him with wide eyes. “‘S alright, I’ve been thinkin’ about this tight little pussy, blowin’ my load in the shower. I ain’t ashamed to admit it, you’re a real pretty girl.” 

Your pussy gets wetter when you think about him touching himself and you wonder how it looks. Your dad would kill him if he knew, and you’re surprised Joel would tell you something like that, but it makes you so wet. 

The image in your mind forces you to arch your back, your body curving before Joel into the mattress. He grunts each time his hips come into contact with the plushy meat of your ass, telling you good girl and squeezing you just right as his cock hits you so deep you feel him in your chest.

“I’m - gonna - cum - again,” you pant, words muffled by the floral pattern your lips are smushed into. “Joel - I’m -”

“I hear ya, baby,” he says, hips snapping. His voice is rough, hoarse. He sounds like he needs some NyQuil. You make a mental note to offer him a refreshing glass once you’re done. “Cum for me, go on. Know you need it.”

Your walls close around him as you do as he says, tightening around the intrusion in your pussy. 

His cock begins to twitch deep inside you and he shoves you by the ass off of him. You tumble to the bed and roll over just in time to be drowned by his cum, thick white ropes spraying all over your tummy and tits. You worry with the ferocity of his release that it might reach the photo of your parents, but you’re too caught up in the pleasure of the moment, your own spend spilling out of your tight little hole.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, “Take that cum.” Then, all of a sudden, his face drops and he freezes in place. He looks at you, covered in his semen, then runs his hand over his face and tucks himself back in his pants. He looks stressed as it dawns on him that he just came all over his best friend’s daughter.

“Joel,” you say carefully. 

“Yes, darlin’”. He winces when the word leaves his mouth. 

“W-what if my dad finds out?”

He runs his hand over his beard. “I don’t know,” he says, “I gotta go.”

“But w-wait, Joel!”

He’s already shuffling out of your room, hopping as he tugs his jeans back over his hips. “M’sorry, baby, I have to-”

“Wait!” you yelp, tearing your underwear from your body. You almost trip over the fabric as you hop down from your bed. “Take these!”

You throw the panties across your room and Joel catches them against his chest, scrunching them into a ball. You sit back on your heels, totally naked in front of him, smirking at the thought of him crossing paths with your dad in the hallway and knowing the secret he holds in his jeans pocket. Knowing that he just fucked his best friend’s daughter, in her childhood bedroom.

His cheeks heat with shock. Your panties are dripping wet. He nods and tucks them into his back pocket and adjusts the crotch of his pants over his still hard cock. 

Suddenly, you hear the front door opening. 

Your parents are home. 

You gasp and fumble with your jeans, trying to put them on with shaky hands while you hear Joel step onto the first floor, just leaving the staircase as the door shuts behind your parents as they come in. 

“Hey, buddy,” your dad calls, and you hover at the top of the stairs. “What- whatcha doin’ with your shirt off?”

Joel stammers, scratching the back of his neck. Your mom stares at him, eyes raking up and down his hairy torso. You feel a hot pang of jealousy at her wandering eyes on the man you just fucked.

“She, uh,” he motions up to you, now stepping slowly down the stairs, “She spilled her drink down my shirt.” He reaches for the crumpled flannel, whipping it in his hands and throwing it over his shoulders.

Your mom tsks. “So clumsy,” she says, shaking her head. “Did you get it cleaned alright?”

Joel nods, jumping a little when you arrive at the bottom of the stairs by his side. He’s still buttoning the shirt. “Yeah, all cleaned up. Thank you, ma’am.”

You feel a surge of excitement shoot through your veins, feeling your wet leaking out onto your jeans and knowing what lives in Joel’s pocket. You sway back and forth, hands clasped behind your back, smiling innocently.

“Sweetie,” your mom calls over, “Why don’t you go walk Joel to his truck?”

“Y-yes, mom,” you stutter, and motion for Joel to walk ahead of you. 

“Have a good night,” he says and pats your dad on the back on his way out. 

You watch every one of his heavy footsteps down the hall and out of the house, slipping on your Crocs before you follow him out, closing the door behind you. 

The two of you linger outside of his truck for a moment. He looks over your shoulder, squinting in the Texas sun as he looks towards the house. You look at the gray in his beard, the curve of his nose and his salt and pepper hair. 

Part of you hopes he’ll ask to see you again, but he’s your dad’s best friend, it could never work. He kicks a small rock with the toe of his boot, arms folded. He leans against the truck and looks up at the sky. 

Your stomach flutters at the sight of him and the feeling of his sticky cum on your stomach, gradually absorbing into your skin. 

“Guess I’ll see you ‘round,” he says and straightens up. He purses his lips while he looks away, then at you. 

You giggle and tuck your hair behind your ear, “Um, yeah.”

“Then I’ll teach you a lesson ‘bout not payin’ attention while watchin’ a movie,” he says, and his voice is sultry and raspy. His fingers are around your chin, tilting your face up to him. “You’ve been a bad girl, lettin’ your dad’s buddy fuck you like a little slut.”

Your lips smush between his finger and thumb. “Yesh, Mr. Miller,” you push between your teeth.

“The hell’d I tell you? It’s Joel.”

You nod fervently. “Yesh, Jool.”

He releases you and opens the truck door, eyeing you constantly as he gets in. 

You pick at your nails nervously as you watch him start the truck, and then drive away. 

You lean against your parents’ Honda Civic and look up at the sky, closing your eyes and sighing. Your teeth come to bite your lower lip into your mouth, tasting him on your tongue. Your dad’s best friend. 

He promised he would teach you a lesson. You wonder what the lesson is.

[sanjisboyfie]

one piece smau: married to marco edition

marco x male reader

-> marco is NOT that old at all, i jus feel like itd b so funny for him to b seen as old for his lack of knowledge on technology and slang terminology/phrases

-> also whitebeard having instagram is so fucking funny to me bye

liked by marco4[name], portgasace, and 10k others

polo.[name]: mirror selfie 🪞

tagged: marco.phx

marco.phx: ur new username is such a terrible pun babe

-> polo.[name]: maybe youd appreciate my grand creativity if u jus matched w me ffs

-> marco.phx: dont b a smart ass we aren't matching usernames

-> polo.[name]: ur the only man that enjoys being a smart ass dont give me attitude rn

portgasace: ohhh u guys r the type to jus take mirror selfies at the gym and then dip 🙄🙄

-> marco.phx: work on ur form and then we can talk

-> WHIT3BEARD!: BOOM roasted

[liked by marco.phx, polo.[name] and 400 others]

-> portgasace: ？？？？？

eee.izo: aww my favorite gay couple ❤️ i love whenever u two post

liked by polo.[name], eee.izo, and 15k others

marco4[name]: username change even though i already put a ring on his finger and that apparently wasnt enough??

tagged: polo.[name]

polo.[name]: seeeee isnt that just such a cute username <333

-> marco4[name]: ur cuter baby ;)

-> portgasace: BARF BARF BARF VOMIT VOMIT VOMIT

vivavista: awww marco does love [name] how adorable

-> marco4[name]: who said i didnt?

-> vivavista: ur username before u changed it....

-> marco4[name]: ur fw me....

chef.thatch: seeing marco being so publicly whipped for his hubby is heartwarming

[liked by polo.[name], portgasace, and 100 others]

-> polo.[name]: hehe hes all mine 🤭🤭🤭

liked by marco4[name], WHIT3BEARD!, polo.[name] and 17k others

eee.izo: absolutely sick to my stomach i hate these two

tagged: marco4[name] and polo.[name]

polo.[name]: holy shit this is such an old photooo

-> marco4[name]: ur talkin sbt it as if it wasnt jus three years ago...

-> polo.[name]: not seeing ur GRAYING hair is weird for me OLD MAN

-> portgasace: LMFOAOA damn gonna have to report marco for being a creepy old man for dating [name]

-> marco4[name]: u two r idiots, im only 5 years older than u [name]

-> polo.[name]: its ok i love u my beautiful old man husband

chef.thatch: aww isnt it so cutteee that they were brought tgt by boss

-> WHIT3BEARD!: if they have a kid i expect them to name it after me.

-> polo.[name]: all due respect i dont think i wuld b able to sleep well at night knowing my kids name is "edward"

[liked by portgasace, marco4[name], and 100 others]

liked by marco4[name], vivavista, and 14k others

polo.[name]: step by step guide on how to bag a blonde baddie:

1. be me

tagged: marco4[name]

marco4[name]: whatever happened to callin me ur husband???

-> polo.[name]: ur my baddie husband marco b proud <3

-> marco4[name]: young ppl and their terminology.....

eee.izo: i wouldve never used the word baddie to describe marco...

-> polo.[name]: hes a hot mysterious stoic damaged baddie old man and hes alll miiiinnneee 😍

-> eee.izo: its so hard to tell when ur being satirical

portgasace: he a baddie he showin his pantyyyy ‼️‼️

-> polo.[name]: he shake it like jellyyy 😩

-> marco4[name]: im uncomfortable.

liked by polo.[name], portgasace, and 15k others

marco4[name]: me n my husband ❤️

tagged: polo.[name]

polo.[name]: im going feral for u daddy 😻😻😻😻

-> marco4[name]: ffs

-> portgasace: count on [name] to humiliate his husband in his own comment section

[liked by polo.[name], vivavista, and 200 others]

polo.[name]: why did u choose such a hot photo of u im gonna have to fight for my life in these comments now :/

-> marco4[name]: theyre all unimportant babe dw abt them

eee.izo: marcos tiddies on my tl 😩😩😩

vivavista: damnnn marco u lookin fine aslll 😘

chef.thatch: wait till u come home i got a surprise for u in the kitchen baby

-> polo.[name]: no fuckin way.

liked by marco4[name], eee.izo, portgasace, and 10k others

polo.[name]: smoking kills...BUT BEING SMOKING HOT??? THATS A DIFFERENT STORY

tagged: marco4[name]

marco4[name]: ur unbelievable????

-> polo.[name]: i love u sm u sexy FREAK

-> marco4[name]: PLEASE STOP.

portgasace: bro cooked fr in thst caption

-> polo.[name]: yk me 🤭🤭

-> chef.thatch: what exactly did [name] cook...

-> marco4[name]: thats what im trying to figure out

eee.izo: what a truly poetic caption wowwww

-> polo.[name]: i discourage smoking for everyone. instead of smoking guys, just find urself smoking hot ppl to fill the voic. perfect example is my husband marco <3

[liked by marco4[name], portgasace, and 100 others]

liked by polo.[name], WHIT3BEARD!, and 20k others

marco4[name]: married life is for me

tagged: polo.[name]

polo.[name]: AWWWWWWWWWWWW u love me

-> marco4[name]: of course i do

portgasace: VOMIITTTEDDD VOMITTTTEEDD (u guys r so cutie wootie patootie awww)

eee.izo: took him being a whore thru his twenties to realize this, how cute

-> eee.izo: im sorry making fun of marco is too funny, this was very cute

-> marco4[name]: thanks + sleep w one eye open tn

WHIT3BEARD!: like i said tht kid u adopt better b named after me.

-> marco4[name]: [name] just visibly cringed.

polo.[name]'s story

my favorite view should i try climbing him guys <333

marco4[name] replied to your story: ......i know this means u love me so im just gonna say i love u too

[gaykarstaagforever]

Heathers (1989)

"If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?"

"...Probably."

[TRIGGER WARNING: The movie is about murder, suicide, depression, anxiety and bullying, and it's a Rated-R movie from 1989, so SA is going to keep coming up. I'm going to be referencing all of that in this review. Also I'm a gay man and will be teasing people who have made this movie their personality, so tap out now if you and your cool vinyl collection can't deal with that.]

The movie starts as a fun black comedic take-down of saccharine 80s John Hughes teen romance movies. New-kid-in-school badboy edgelord JD, and repentant former wannabe cool girl Veronica, hook up and decide to live out the ultimate bullied nerd fantasy by getting revenge on Heather, Veronica's frenemy and leader of the Heathers, the most popular clique in school.

But when things go darker than Veronica planned, the comedic satire becomes a Shakespearean melodrama, as Veronica is suddenly confronted by the surreal consequences of what she's done, including realizing that the simplest solution to a problem may in fact make everything a hell of a lot worse.

I'm not going to spoil it for the 5 of you who haven't seen this yet. Everyone else (including me now) has seen it, as it is probably one of the most universally-popular Internet-culture movies there is. You've seen at least one meme from it.

Probably this one.

While a flop in 1989, it quickly became a cult movie on home media, even by the late 90s being one of those movies your older brother and his friends introduced you to to let you know they didn't think you were a lame stupid baby anymore. And it seems now with streaming it is still kind of in that spot, the older brothers with tapes being replaced by Gen X / Millennials posting about how cool it is in front of teenaged lurkers.

So how did I miss it? I WAS the older brother growing up, and I was 7 when it came out. And when I did go back and get into all the 80s movies I missed out on by being a toddler when they were new, I stumbled into the Hughes stuff, notably Pretty in Pink, which is fundamentally the movie Heathers is mocking. As cynical and jaded as I am, I'm also a fruitcake, so I love me some sappy sunny crap (if it's to a greater artistic point, which the Hughes movies are). What I knew of Heathers had me thinking it was merely a demonstration of pretentious anti "popular media" whining from the sort of people who wear outdated hats and are insufferable about punk music.

...And it totally is. But also, it's more than that. It's actually really good and smart and occasionally insightful, when it restrains itself from all the emo "I can be your devil or your angle" posturing. Which, to be fair, it also makes fun of. Before that was even a thing.

Christian Slater and Wynonna Rider have fantastic chemistry, and there's never enough of the two of them just enjoying each other's company. Even when they're arguing, it feels like a real couple going through something they'll almost certainly get over in a few hours (until they very much can't, and then they'll literally try to kill each other). Passion, is the word for it. Sardonic and low-key most of the time, but still passion. And that's always delightful.

It's well-shot and well-directed, with good uses of lighting and dynamic camera angles. There is a lot of scenes that are just two people talking, and it's never boring. Impressive for filmmakers who were, at the time, fresh-faced and working with a small budget. The style ends up being like if John Waters (no relation to Dan Waters, who wrote it) had directed Corman's Rock and Roll High School: goofy and surreal and sarcastic, but also willing to get dark and push boundaries to make a point.

All the characters - even joke side ones - are thoughtfully drawn, given emotional depth and realistic motivations, even when they're doing something stagey and broad in this highly stylized, Tim Burton-esque dark fairytale world. Wynonna Rider fought for the role against all advice, and it is perfectly in-line with the characters she played and the movies she played them in of this era, Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands. Maybe even Bram Stoker's Dracula, if we're talking surreal melodramatic action-horror with disco lighting.

It is a movie with lots of big ideas (probably too many), but it manages to get those across effectively. What starts as a simple teenager revenge fantasy morphs into an armchair analysis of what America does to its children - instead of nurturing them and preparing them for the adult world, it points at them and gawks, and cashes in on their fear and self-loathing and predictable self-destruction. Everyone in the cruel high school world of Heathers is both a perpetrator and a victim, desperately fighting for survival by both submitting to abuse, and then immediately turning around and heaping it on someone "beneath" them. Death here isn't genuinely mourned or reflected upon; everyone simply starts plotting how they're going to exploit this new gap in the line. And whether the victims kill themselves or are murdered only matters as far as someone can spin that into self-promotion. Even the priest at the funeral (the late great Glenn Shadix, Beetlejuice again!) uses the supposed suicide of a child as an opportunity to make a ham-fisted youth-oriented alter call.

By the end of the movie, Veronica has triumphantly decided to rise up - not merely against the popular kids and exploitative / apathetic adults - but against the entire system of unending cruelty she didn't even know she was still playing a part in when she was actively attacking it. This finally sets her at odds with JD, who is too consumed by hatred to realize that the violence he thinks is a solution is fundamentally part of the problem.

And yet, as they come to blows, Veronica is also replaying the very same game that led her to become one of the Heathers in the first place, and then turn on them: use people to secure power, they use and hurt you, so you attack them. She knows the whole system is bad and broken and wants out, and seems to acknowledge the only way out is through earnest friendships and "growing out" of being shallow and petty. But by the end of the movie, despite her rebuke of JD...has she managed it? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe the system is inescapable, and all you can hope to do is find a way to force it to work for you. And choose then to make it less cruel. Maybe.

It's not a good or happy ending, it's just an ending. But a thought-provoking one, and the movie does it well.

...Mostly. The dialogue is trying very hard to be distinctively witty, but mostly comes across like a worse version of Clueless-ese, with more gratuitous vulgarities and no kitschy charm. A writer being very proud of how smart they are, without noticing that real people don't talk like this because it's awkward and obnoxious. Everyone's dialogue is basically interchangeable, including between the kids and adults (JD and his lunatic father have a fun distinctive thing they do, but that's about it). Now, lines being awkward and obnoxious doesn't mean they aren't eminently meme-able. In fact, that usually means they are. And they certainly are here. Nearly every scene has a memorable bon mot that can be endlessly parroted by people doing that so you won't notice their off-putting personality. ...I wouldn't call that a win for anyone, but it is certainly a thing.

Remember: just because someone said it in a movie, doesn't mean it's inherently funny or profound or relevant to the conversation you've currently having. And you're not suddenly smart because you found a movie quote that you think expresses your exceptional hot take. In fact, that might be a sign that your are NOT in fact smart or insightful. Just putting that out there.

Also the "mineral water is for fags" thing is only funny because it's stupid. It was stupid then. That's the point of that being in the movie, to show how stupid these podunk morons in Ohio are. Stop repeating that 'joke.' It isn't funny out of context.

Gen X. Looking at you on this one. It's just you trying to give yourselves permission to still call people "fags." Doesn't work that way.

Christian Slater claims he was "channeling Jack Nicholson for this film." Yeah, okay, dude. And for the rest of your life, all the time. He's still a good actor and very charming here, but if that "Christian Slater" thing he does annoys you, it's at 11 here.

The pacing and tone get pretty muddled after the initial black revenge comedy stuff stops, as the movie uneasily transitions to its second major focus. It stops being funny entirely for awhile, until near the end when it suddenly remembers that was supposed to be a part of this, then sitcomy stuff elbows its way in. And JD's plans post-breakup with Veronica are left vague until they suddenly aren't, and I feel like I missed something. I didn't, and there's a point to them doing it this way, but it is handled kind of confusingly.

The movie is a scaled-down version of whatever epic Greek tragicomedy the writer originally dreamed up, and the studio demanded the pitch-black orginal ending be changed. And you can kind of feel that throughout. As an R-rated movie it is a lot tamer than it feels like it should be, and I for one wish the kills were gorier and more over-the-top. That more fits the tone. Maybe that was never the original intention, but you don't do Titus Andronicus without getting gross with it, you know?

Any SA stuff is handled tactfully, and there isn't much of it, and it serves a narrative purpose. But that still feels like something that is only in here because it's 1989 and R-rated movies have to go there. And I don't feel like they really give those incidents the kind of emotional impact they should have on the victims. But again, this is a surreal world of unending cruelty, so maybe people shrug that off here. It's more my personal preference, if you're going to be gross to women in a movie (probably stop that, unless that's what the movie is about. Rape and molestation are not screenplay spices.)

The good far outweighs the bad, though. And Heathers is good, and is deservedly a timeless cult-classic for growing boys and girls, given what it deals with and how well it deals with it. It's entertaining and it makes you think, which is what good movies do. And it's endlessly meme-able, and that's okay, even if the people who meme it the most are silently warning you that they're pretentious and annoying about music. And that's only sort-of the movie's fault.

Also all the women in this movie have 9 lbs of dry fly-away hair that is just...painful. I realize this "unkempt Barbie hair" style was the best we could do at the time, but... I feel like I can hear it crunching every time they move.

Oh, and shoulder pads for days, shoulder pads FOREVER. I will never understand why the hell the 80s thought women weren't boxy enough. It was a thing.

[hanbindans]

BIG SPOON OR LITTLE SPOON??? 🎤🎤

a/n: I wrote this on impulse at 1 am and I have no regrets. I think I'm right btw but feel free to argue with me in the reblogs or comments if you want because I want friends. lowercase intended (I'm on desktop fight me if you want) also this is SATIRE in case it's not clear

jiwoong

big spoon all the way. little spoon makes him a little uncomfortable. like what if you bite him between the shoulder blades?? if he wants to be held he needs to be face-to-face with you so he can keep track of your moves and make sure you're not planning to attack him.

zhang hao

hmmm. mostly big spoon but it depends on his mood. sometimes after a long day dealing with people not as smart as him (everyone) he needs to be restrained as the little spoon so he doesn't go feral and commit any crimes. and he likes it when his back gets all warm and he can calm down 😗.

hanbin

little spoon but he doesn't know it. insists on being big spoon because it makes him feel like he's protecting you but actually he is the one who needs to be protected. we all need to be protect hanbin at all costs. he DESERVES to be little spoon.

taerae

50% big spoon and 50% little spoon. he doesn't really care. you had a bad day? taerae is big spoon that day. he had to walk home in the rain? YOU'RE big spoon so he can warm up. a king who is secure in his masculinity.

matthew

little spoon by default but he wants to be big spoon so bad he will actually wrestle you so he can get behind you. I believe he is pretty strong though he will give great cuddles as big spoon with those arms. makes you pretty warm and toasty.

ricky

too cool for little spoon. has to be big spoon every time this is simply not up for discussion with him. just go with it. and to be fair he is a pretty good big spoon because mans got them custom sized limbs perfect for holding another human.

gyubin

hmm.... I say little spoon at heart but big spoon by default because there is no big spooning this boy, the only other option is being his jetpack. he'd rather have his head cradled to your chest as his limbs cling to you because it has similar vibes to little spoon, just without the little. you should still ask for him to be big spoon sometimes though because I feel like he would be pretty warm.

gunwook

75% big spoon and 25% little spoon. imo he should be little spoon-ed more but once again his height is kind of working against him on this one. but he also wants to be big spoon most of the time so it's all good in the end. be sure to be his jetpack once in a while tho so bro can fill his cuddles quota.

[thesoftboiledegg]

"Mort: Ragnarick" was pure fun, but a different kind of fun than "Rickfending Your Mort" and "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie."

"Rickfending Your Mort" was a laid-back clip show that gave the viewer a break after the insanity of "Unmortricken"--a smart decision but not one with a lot of substance. "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie" has been controversial. I thought it was entertaining, but it would've worked better as a YouTube short.

If "Unmortricken" represented lore episodes at their best, "Mort: Ragnarick" was the best of classic Rick and Morty adventures: a wildly imaginative plot, goofy satire, fantasy science and Rick and Morty working together as a duo, reminding us how much they need each other.

Rick's the driving force behind these adventures, but without Morty, he's just a miserable old man trying to distract himself. Morty's the heart and voice of reason. He also gives Rick something to live for. Without him, Beth, Jerry or Summer, why do anything?

Rick pretends to live for science, but "science" just caused decades of grief and isolation. His family isn't a concept; it's an entity that loves him back.

Bigfoot, an evil pope, Pokeballs, Valhalla, clone bodies, infinite energy sources, zombie Summer, Rick screaming "PO-O-O-O-OPE!": only Rick and Morty could combine all those concepts into one cohesive episode. I never thought "Wow, that took me out of the story." The Pokeball came close, but the end credits scene tied it all together.

Jerry's scene was a standout, too. Chris Parnell's reading of "Nana!" was genuinely sweet. It seems like Jerry's becoming a (mostly) willing participant in Rick's schemes instead of a helpless guinea pig. Is Rick learning that releasing his iron grip on his family makes them more attached to him, not less?

I also loved it when the Vikings called Rick a witch. He loves crystals, plays with magic, has two crows as familiars: damn right, he is!

You have to suspend your disbelief a couple of times, mainly when Bigfoot attacks Rick in the kitchen (he crushed Rick earlier like it was nothing, but now Rick walks away with a few scratches?) Still, the little character moments overshadow these flaws.

Judging by old posts that I've seen floating around, I think Rick and Morty's relationship is finally becoming what fans wanted it to be in seasons 1-3. Rick's still mean, but he's less dominant and more of Morty's mischievous co-conspirator. An alien mobster freaking out in "The Jerrick Trap" because of Rick's "touch my grandson and die" policy is straight out of fanon.

Rick's more physically gentle, and Morty responds in kind. He grabs and supports him when Bigfoot attacks him at home and touches his arm during their weird, overdramatic Bigfoot send-off. His pained cry of "Rick!" when Bigfoot nearly crushes him is heart-wrenching. Operation Phoenix is back online, but Morty's tired of watching him die!

Season five is when Rick started showing emotions on his face besides that cold, pissed-off glare--we all know the one--and in season seven, it's accelerated to Rick crying in front of others. He matches Morty's feelings instead of pretending that he's above human emotions.

Needless to say, dudebros have been flooding Adult Swim's Instagram comments and Twitter replies with "Rick and Morty is shit now!" "Rick's too nice!" "Rick and Morty has gone woke!" Justin Roiland's firing gave them more fuel, but they started even while he was still on the payroll.

Their favorite line is "Rick isn't Rick anymore!" And they're right. Rick's not the asshole from seasons 1-2 who had a couple of redeeming qualities. He's not the monster that he was in season three and parts of season four. He's not the defeated man in season five who started to realize that he's hurting people but still wanted Morty to look after him like a child.

Season six is when he started to grow up--not a lot, but enough that he began taking on adult responsibilities instead of thinking he's a teenage boy who sees another teenager as his peer. I wish we saw more therapy appointments, but while they're mostly off-screen, we're definitely seeing the effects.

This doesn't make Rick a great person or atone for what he's done. Some of his crimes are beyond atonement, and not just the obvious ones like blowing up planets. This is a universe where everyone has a body count and events that should've destroyed Earth have no effect on civilization. Death and destruction don't mean that much.

His worst crimes are the personal ones: destroying Morty's psyche in "The Vat of Acid Episode," treating his family like garbage for most of season three. You can't atone for that. You can't apologize for that.

However, I don't only judge characters by their past. I judge them by their capacity to change.

Walter White is a brilliant character, but he's not a personal favorite because his arc is a slow descent into hell. Rick's slowly climbing out of his crater, and while it doesn't erase the past, it's still happening. For me, that's more satisfying than watching a monster become a bigger monster.

Of course, he's still not above cosplaying as Odin while wearing a golden crown that literally says "GOD." But the former "no girls allowed" alpha male has become a dedicated therapy patient who's also a thirst object that would make bros cry about double standards. Sure, Rick, you're a god, now put on that weird half-shirt and prance around a little.

[tigermousse]

Particles of reality: Obsession

genre: dark, yandere, otome, crime, supernatural, NSFW

Not all stories have happy endings…especially this one.

I have a feeling this visual novel has done some permanent damage to my mental health, but I'm not regretting reading it.

!Please note: This game is for mature audience only!

Particles of reality: obsession is dealing with very dark themes including gore, extreme violence, torture, sexual and mental abuse. It has graphic depiction of consensual and un-consensual sex (including sex between minors and sex between siblings). List of triggers for each path is enormous and it was pretty hard to read through some paths. There are options to hide some content, but even with "lower violence" filter it was gruesome enough. Like Monika, I hate the violence, but I was too interested in characters to skip everything.

Monica is studying medicine in college and working at the cafe Luna to pay her bills. She has two close friends and a bunch of phobias, since she is a traumatized young woman with a troubled past. Monika hoped to separate from her family by enrolling to a college. But now she's stuck on a dead-end job, feeling claustrophobic in a small crappy apartment, also failing her studies and doubting her choice to be a doctor.

This is the time when in her life appears a tall handsome man, who has a strange interest in her. But the story unraveled…

Particles of Reality is a macabre satire on dark romance, where relationship with violent people are romanticized, - and otome games, in which every character falls in love with a MC no matter how plain, or dull she is.

It is a splendid idea to show in visual novel that relationship with obsessive people can only cause you pain, but still overall it was a depressing experience for me. I can not recommend this game, but it has a highest rating from me, because it is unique and memorable. All the characters are either traumatized or just pleasurably insane.

You are warned from the beginning that there are no happy endings in this novel. In those few where main characters at least don't die, Monica is still can not be happy because she's feeling trapped.

It makes sense, because it shows that with the characters like these, who are obsessed (and sometimes possessed), there can be no happy ending. They're traumatized, violent and mentally unstable. It is said that in Obsession the characters are the worst possible versions of themselves.

After a while it is getting too frustrating that no matter what you do the game finds its way to punish you. The characters are making very stupid mistakes and decisions - and you can do nothing about it but watch. Also sometimes the game is forcing you to read a lot of information that you already learn from other routes. I can see why it was hard to avoid, but still it was too much unnecessary reading.

The structure of visual novel is unique - it has additional unlockable content for each character that helps to look further in their past or shows their point of view on the story. At some points the story is breaking the forth wall.

Nice touch that choices that doesn't affect the ending, are clearly marked.

Still after reading everything including the secret character routes, the story still has more questions then answers - and feels incomplete. The secret route was more confusing then revealing.

CHARACTERS

MC Monika Viotto (name changeable, but I don't see why someone would like to relate to this MC more, so I left it as it is)

My diagnosis: Post-traumatic stress disorder + Dependent personality disorder

For me, Monika is a bit annoying. She's is your our typical otome MC - she is kind, shy, not very smart with average looks (though I think that she looks pretty cute). Because she was abused and neglected at home since childhood, Monika developed some phobias like nyctophobia and claustrophobia.

She says that she hates violence, but in each route she's attracted to violent people - probably that is the route of all the problems. In some paths she even shows a violent streak that she probably has (probably that is why she resents violence - because she knows she can have it in her too). Her family is mafia and though she wants to get away from them so bad, the violence in her household probably couldn't left her intact. However usually Monika is absolutely oblivious to everything happening around her. Sometimes she can stand for herself, but these moments of clarity happen usually too late.

Who she is now is a result of her traumatized past, but also we can see that she's really passive and co-dependent since young age. She can't decide for herself (and when she is, she's deciding badly), she's not trying to learn something new, she doesn't understand her feelings and is not good with people. She's not good with anything really. Though she doesn't lack empathy and sincerely grieving loss of those who are close to her.

Sometimes she can be funny and snappy, but not often. She is more self-assured and interesting in some "what if" scenarios and in some branches in Brandon's route.

Love interests (SPOILER ALERT)

Which one do you have in mind?

None of the characters are mentally healthy. Some are aware of this fact, the others aren't. There is almost no romance, except maybe for the Sebastian route (which is my least favorite). There are some sex scenes though.

Each route starts differently and has slight time difference, but except for the Brandon's route, the circumstances in these are very similar.

Sebastian Dallarosa

My diagnosis: Narcissistic personality disorder (?) Also typical yandere

Sebastian is tall, rich and handsome. Probably smart too. He's meeting MC on the street, saving her life from a car accident, and then taking care for her when she is getting sick. But something is not right about him. Or is it?

He's in love with MC since they were children. It was love at first sight, and now he believes that Monika is his soulmate - and he wants her no matter what.

Dallarosa is a mafia family too, like Viotto, but several years ago Sebastian and his twin brother refused to take over the family business - and it seems that Sebastian put all his effort to get Monika Viotto, because it is the only thing that he wanted - ever.

Sebastian is probably the favorite character of the developer, because his route is longest, plus he's appearing in every other route and in most branches. He has the most CG's. And I really hate him. Either because he's triggering something from my past, or because he is so sure of himself. He is the only one with almost no regrets or remorse. He thinks that his "love" justifies everything he's doing. I hate how he doesn't give Monika a chance to decide for herself, how much he's suffocating her, how he manipulates her. He doesn't care at all what she thinks, for he has her image in his head for a long time, and he doesn't care what Monika is like for real. He shows in all the routes, and in each one he's madly in love with Monika.

When you start the game, Sebastian's route is the first you have to finish at least once, and for some time his route is pretty romantic. He says nice things to MC, dotting around her, telling her what she would like to hear. But when things unravel, he shows his true violent and/or manipulative self.

The best part of Sebastian's route was Alexander. He seems much more sane (Maybe that is because he doesn't has his own route yet)

Julian Andrei

My diagnosis: Dissociative identity disorder

Julian is working with Monika in a Cafe Luna. He seems rude at first, but otherwise he is funny and always ready to help a damsel in distress. Except he has a strange habit of vanishing for several days once a month. What does he hides?

In Julian's route Monika has a crush on him when they first meet, and in other routes it is other way around. Julian in his route is the most different from himself in other routes, except Brandon's DLC. Because in most routes he is just a friend and co-worker of Monika, and doesn't show his violent streak, also he's pretty weak and can't stand himself against other characters. However we know from his route that he should be experienced in killing people, so it is strange that he's always trying to rescue MC unprepared. (I guess it is one of frustrating features which lead MC to unavoidable bad ends).

Julian is in constant conflict with himself - because he has a split personality, which seems to have a mind of its own.

As for the core personality, and not the worst version of himself, I like Julian very much. He is funny, honest and noble in his own way - and trying to do his best. I don't mind his complaining and self-consciousness.

Quinn Deidre

My diagnosis: Borderline personality disorder

Quinn is gender-fluid non-binary person. And also they are the most normal character. They are a ball of sunshine. Funny, active, kind, caring, creative. But they're trying too hard to get attention that they are forgetting what is good for themselves. Quinn definitely have BPD, and it is pretty accurate portrait of this disorder. Given their traumatic past, it is not strange that Quinn has it. Their family is fundamentally religious and they always felt that they don't belong at home. So they're looking hard for the place where they belong.

Meeting Monika as a roommate, Quinn is falling in love with her non-judgemental attitude. But of course, they can't stand to her other suitors. (Brandon strangely accepts Quinn)

Quinn is really sweet. His bad ends are pretty sad, because they mostly end with him hurting himself.

Brandon Viotto (free DLC)

My diagnosis: Antisocial personality disorder (Psychopath)

Due to the themes of incest and underage sex (also extreme violence, but Steam is OK with it), Brandon's route is not accessible in the base game and can be downloaded as a free DLC (optionaly, because for some people this route can be too fucked up.)

Brandon's route is a history route: it begins when Monika was five, and all events in all branches are happening earlier than the beginning of Sebastian's, Julian's or Quinn's routes. You don't need to read through this route to finish the game and open secret character, but it is giving better view of Monika's personality in other routes, also after reading it, I hated Sebastian a tiny bit less.

Brandon is Monika's older brother. He's just a year older than she, but since the early childhood they were raised differently. Brandon was the favorite child, Mama's golden boy, he was given best teachers and was combat training to become the head of the family (Don). And Monika was neglected, harshly punished for all tiny mistakes, given little to no education. Most of the time their parents didn't pay any attention to her at all. Luciana Viotto is a powerful, cunning and cruel woman, and Antonio Viotto seems totally indifferent to everything that is happening in his family, until it becomes too late.

Things doesn't add up here - while Monika as a mafia princess was prepared to arranged marriage if nothing else, she probably had at least attend different social events to meet important people, but she didn't. Otherwise she would be just a disgrace of a mafia family (which she obviously become, when she went to a college, living in a worst district of a town and working for a minimal wedge)

Since tender age Brandon was trained to be a merciless killer. And while his first kills brought him tears and nightmares, later he started to enjoy killing and torturing people. Now he is hungry for power and control. And the only one he cares about is his sister. Monika.

Since they were children, Brandon always tried to defend Monika from their abusive mother. They grew very close, because they always had to depend onto each other and didn't have anyone else. Monika needed Brandon because he always came to her rescue and Brandon need his sister, because she appeals to what left of human in him. She is still his moral compass after years of killings.

When he was about 15 year of age, Brandon felt that he his feeling for Monika is not completely brotherly.

After some time of his doubts and regrets, they've became lovers, when Monika was still 14 y.o. They both knew that incest is wrong, depending on the branch, they're having more or less doubts about it.

In most scenarios revealed that when Monika was 16, she attended school, where she has met a boy and started dating him. But Brandon was furious and beat the guy so bad that he couldn't recover. Monica hasn't talked to Brandon since then, until she decided to go to college where she begins all other routes.

Brandon is the one who sees the best in Monika

I do not justify the incest, I've never understood it either. But given all the circumstances in this novel I think in Particles of Reality, Brandon is still the best choice for Monika. Maybe I'm prejudiced, because despite of everything , I liked him too much since demo. He's the only one who will never hurt her willingly, she can trust him completely and he's the one who accepts and understands her as she is.

The thing I like about Brandon the most is that he is the only one whose personality doesn't change a bit in all the routes and branches. I'm afraid that is because he's the least favorite boy for the developer, but still he doesn't pretend. Also he's the only one who is changing through his route - for worse, but still.

He is extremely violent, and doesn't hide that he is enjoying killing people, but it seems that he can have his doubts and regrets about everything that concerning Monika. (Nevertheless he still thought and done disgusting things)

He is also very smart, with a dark sense of humor, but I always felt that Monika can depend on him. With him she is safe, but he can go too far to secure her.

I can't rate any of the characters, since they're shown as the worst versions of themselves. As for their "core personality", I like Sebastian the least, because I can't find any of his personality outside of his obsession. As for secret character, his purpose in this novel seems only for breaking forth wall, so it is hard to say something about him for now.

Overall:

Visual: 4/5

Story: 4/5

Characters: 5/5

Romance: 2/5

Originality: 5/5

My Rating: 5/5

(I can't recommend it to anyone, since it is very dark and not for everyone, but also couldn't give it less than 5 stars, because I'm sure that this game has a powerful impact on every person who has read it)

You can get this visual novel by Arewar on Steam or on itch.io

[ohhxdile]

can you write something with Patrick bateman pls!! it doesnt have to be serious i want the reader to be like totally stupid, it can be satire if u want!

no nsfw please i just want him to brutally murder me

thank you ily🫶🫶🫶

Double-face ♯ OS

Pairing; Patrick Bateman x Reader

જ⁀➴

WC: 703 Summary: Your friend Patrick came to visit your house, clueless you invite him in. Warnings: Mention of murder, manipulation, creep, dumb reader, Patrick being cocky and weird A/N: i'm sorry bestie that i'm so late for your request but here it is finally! ! !

જ⁀➴

You walked around your room, couldn’t think of anything else than Patrick. His way of talking, thinking and his looks hypnotized me. People didn’t get along with this man easily, but off the bat you had liked his weird way of approaching you. Never denied him or judged him.

You bite onto your lower lip waiting for the sound of the car tires and loud motor noise of it. A knock on your door could be heard, and you left the spot where you were and ran to the door, swinging it open. You were met with his smiling and enthusiastic face. Your hands held tightly to the door knob, palms sweating and not knowing what to say nor to do. He let himself in without any problem and walked around.

“I must say, the house is pretty clean” He looked at the shelf of books and plants. You smiled behind him, loving his compliment and presence in your home. You were met with his face again, arms behind his back. “You know why I’m here, right?” Confusion was written all over your face, the question didn’t seem to lead anywhere, so you sat on your couch. He walked fast behind, following you onto the couch. He pulled something from his trousers pockets and pulled a key. “See this key?” You nodded and followed it with your eyes, “It’s a key to many secrets and depth, just like my heart” He held the key to his heart, enhancing the dramatic act upon this small object. “It must be very important to you” He nodded, putting it away and sighing. “You’re the only one that understands my words, my analogy. I like you”

You had turned on the TV, so the atmosphere would be embarrassing with you two not talking and just staring at each other, Patrick hasn’t said anything for a while, just looking straight ahead. He wasn’t much of a talker, he sometimes had many amazing tales to tell, but today wasn’t it. You never blamed him for that nothing quite extraordinary happened your way, too. The TV was a great alternative so we could both watch something together and find a subject to start a conversation.

The channel that we were on was casting a woman who was explaining her paranormal house, that she might think was haunted. Patrick chuckled, amused by her stupidity and worries. “Who fucking believes that shit, huh?” You knew that he was smart and knew everything, you would never try to oppose to his opinions. “Women like her would get killed eventually from saying such insanity on Television” His words felt average, as if it was normal to say that, they did in fact sound cocky, but It came from him. You couldn’t believe that Patrick had something more sinister in mind to what he said earlier, even though during his speech he looked straight at your face and not the woman. 

“It’s getting pretty dark outside darling” You looked through your curtains, you haven’t noticed the time passing with his presence by your side. You got up and offered him his coat. He took it, slowly wearing it. “It was nice having you” You spoke, cheeks heating up from timidness, and he chuckled. “I really enjoyed it. I did” His hands were raised in front of me to amplify his gratitude, eyes looking around your home. “Add a tint of red, blood-red to your walls, they would look hypnotizing” You looked around the room and noticed just now the emptiness of color, you mentally noted that and went to get your keys to open the door. “A great pleasure to see my favorite person today” 

You didn’t know that day Patrick had murdered someone that worked with you earlier before meeting you, you haven’t noticed his stained shoes and his bloody fingernails. Befriending him made you dumb, unaware of your surroundings, and clearly he took that onto account, and played with it. He wouldn’t murder you, couldn’t dare. He would keep you as his priced rare jewel, killing his fun would be disappointing. Coming to your home unexpected was a right move, memorizing the house by heart and knowing what his next motive would be.

[msfbgraves]

Outside of Daniel and Terry who were great as always, this was a truly terrible season, THE worst lol.

Johnny was truly horrible with his "suPpoRt DeVoN aND mIGgy dUriNG thIS DiFficULt time" but never did ANYTHNG to support HIS OWN SON. Like, he did NOTHING FOR ROBBY. Robby is struggling so badly and has no one to turn to and his OWN DAD is like "lOl roBbY wHooO???" Johnny is a terrible character and has been gaslighting himself and everyone else from SEASON 1! FUCK Johnny!

They ruined Chozen in every way by making him into this drunk, boorish loser who randomly hooks up with the enemy (another flat, annoying character and another poorly written female character). Chozen was so OOC I felt like I was watching badly written fanfic come to life. What the FUCK! I am so sorry, Chozen. You deserved so much better.

Kreese was just plain embarrassing, my god. Every time he was on screen I cringed. He should have died in S5 and I stand by that. Everything he did was mortifying and humiliating. He is way too old to be acting the fool. He needs to be in a retirement home having angry dreams.

Robby...LOL. The writers said fuck you! we don't care about you AT ALL lol! and then he got supremely fucked by the narrative in every single way. God. And of course NO SCENES with him and Daniel because flawed as Daniel was, he did so much for Robby--way more than Johnny ever did for him. Daniel and Robby had wonderful chemistry and the writers are so scared of that.

The Sekai Taikai is boring and overlong and just ridiculous in every way. All the new characters are dull, flat, and have incredibly forced and tropy "chemistry" with the OG characters. They are the definition of Shonen Manga Stock Bullies. They're like parodies of character tropes at this point. If someone told me CK6 was satire, I would have believed them.

S6: Let's make Daniel have an emotional breakdown again because why not hahahaha! BTW, Johnny is cool and perfect and a REAL MAN! BE LIKE HIM!!111!1 Johnny is absolutely not wrong ever, but Daniel is evil and flawed and ALWAYS wrong OF COURSE1!111!!

Annoying little brat Devon gets a pep talk from Johnny (another huge LMAO!!!) and gets away scot free with all she's done?? While Kenny still has to deal with the bullying he'll surely face back home?? What the fuck?

Carmen...DEAR GOD. This is the woman who raised a sweet kid by herself in a new country. She learned a new language, escaped from a terrible man, built a career and took really good care of both her mom and her boy. And then she, responsible, smart, kind Carmen--gets knocked up by a deadbeat, drunk loser who has held a grudge over a high school karate tournament for 30+ YEARS, blames everyone (especially poor Daniel who is his personal punching bag) but himself for how shitty his own life is, doesn't have a proper career or a steady job AT 50+ YEARS OLD, is in and out of trouble constantly, behaves like every negative stereotype of Ugly American even while IN the States, gets (Carmen's) son in trouble, does shit all for his own son, and...THIS IS THE MAN CARMEN GETS KNOCKED UP BY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Carmen, who WORKS IN HEALTHCARE and has ACCESS TO BIRTH CONTROL!!!!! You cannot make this shit up!!!!!!!

This show is truly garbage. It was excellent in S1 and S2, I thoroughly enjoyed S3, S4 and S5 were Karate Star Wars and got stupid (but still entertaining) and S5 it should have ended, peaking with the relationship between Terry and Daniel and the death of Kreese. S6 is embarrassing and cringe.

The best parts were TERRY FUCKING SILVER who is played with such devastating charm and skill by Thomas that you can't help but love him. And he's hot as fuck so there's that too!

Daniel is of course hated by the writers, but that doesn't take away from the fact that HE'S BEEN RIGHT FROM THE START OF THIS FUCKING SHOW and he's a good, kind, sweet, hardworking man who happens to have a quick temper, can be prone to hot-headedness, and be (gasp) less than perfect. Of course, for these oh-so-terrible sins, he must be punished and also constantly fucked by the narrative. Jokes on them, because Daniel can be proven to be right and correct 95% of the time, and remains a decent, good man who can admit when he's wrong (UNLIKE CERTAIN BLOND FUCKS).

I'm just here for Terry and Daniel!

Cobra Kai S6 is a fever dream of how a middle aged man with the emotional range of a young teenage boy would WANT the world to work, not how any human being would reasonably behave. Many men have written stories like this over the centuries and have been called geniuses; many women have written their versions - like Twilight - and have been called airheads, but anyway, it's all pure id at this point. I keep saying that TIG meanwhile writes his own part before signing on, because somehow I keep finding nuances in his character, like a compulsion to repeat his trauma with cages and a deep aversion to killing (which is interesting because I really do wonder what he meant to do to Kreese if not kill him).

You do have to give it to them that there are moments of awe inspiring insanity sprinkled throughout.

[therumpus]

The Mini Interview with Porochista Khakpour

By Yasmin Roshanian

I first encountered the works of Porochista Khakpour in 2014. As an MFA candidate at Columbia, I was eager for Iranian-American voices in fiction. To read Khakpour is to carefully parse through works of fiction and nonfiction that unfurl family, identity, and Persian myth—I can remember devouring Khakpour’s second novel, The Last Illusion, feeling unburdened. She is a rare writer, and to see life and the Iranian-American experience through her astute and caring pages feels something akin to landing.

In Tehrangeles (Pantheon Books, 2024), Khakpour’s latest novel, the world she satirizes makes for a delightful romp. We meet the Milani’s, a filthy rich family living the (Iranian)-American dream. Al, the immigrant father, is a bombastic junk food tycoon. His wife, Homa, is reeling. As they raise their four daughters (Violet, Roxanna, Mina, and Haylee) in the terrain known as “Tehrangeles,” the splashy landscape of Los Angeles where Iranian-Americans reside (and thrive), the opportunity for their very own reality show slowly snaps the scaffolding of a home, unraveling everything inside.

It was a joy to speak with Khakpour over a Zoom call in May. We discussed the whirlwind of Tik Tok, identity erasure, and more. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

***

The Rumpus: I want to unpack the absurdity of celebrity culture, and in particular, the terrain that has become influencer culture. Did you always want to write a novel about this world? What was appealing to you about exploring celebrity and social media?

Porochista Khakpour: I’ve always been very obsessed with pop culture. Anyone who follows my social media knows. Even if it's not about my writing, or my literary interests, I’m always commenting, or tuned into pop culture. I’m forty-six, and I think I’m pretty up on things that Gen Z knows about. That’s just always been my interest. Most of my books do have some pop cultural angle in them, but Tehrangeles is the most absorbing. I think I had to get to a place, and maybe it took my fifth book, where I wasn’t so concerned about sounding smart. I’ve already written the smart books; the deep and heartbreaking books. I don’t feel like I have to prove myself as much anymore. If I had done Tehrangeles as my fist book, I think I would have been too worried about it being called a beach read or being labeled as women’s fiction. I would have had all of these other insecurities. Tehrangeles allowed me to not only investigate the Iranian-Americans of that demographic, but it also let me get deep into this world of bubbly, frothy trash. I guess some people might call it guilty pleasures, but it sounds absurd to say that—it's such a big part of American culture.

The book is kind of a period piece, too. It takes place in the first half of 2020, and I had to dive deeply into the world of TikTok. I was already on TikTok for a while before that, and I’ve only started posting publicly there recently, but I've been lurking for ages. It’s an amazing place to go when you’re interested in pop culture and celebrity and all that, and it introduced me to the world of content creators and influencers. This aspect of contemporary pop culture allowed me to paint the characters in a deeper way. These girls are just children, really; they’re Gen Z, but they all have jobs that they take really seriously. They’re making money, even though they have money.

Rumpus: I appreciated the versatility on the page. The humor is electric and sharp, and the dialogue is so astute. At the same time, the novel is deeply poignant. You also include a section written entirely in Farsi, allowing us to further access the characters despite the boundaries of language. In terms of craft, what does it mean to use different threads to tell a story?

Khakpour: Iran is really important when I’ve been grappling with Iranian-American life. I haven’t been able to return to Iran since I was a young child. I was born there, and I lived there for several years, but I don’t ever really feel comfortable writing a work set in Iran. I only have limited knowledge of that. Obviously, I can imagine it, but it’s not enough for me. There are many writers who do that a lot better than me; who write very directly from that experience. Iran, in almost all my books, becomes a symbol of an impossibility. It’s always tied to yearning, and longing, and characters wanting to go back to a homeland that they’re separated from. I wanted there to be a real distance between Iran and Iranian-America. In the novel, there are moments where I have relatives and friends in Iran calling the family, and telling them that they’ve heard about certain events in the US, and their show, and I wanted the Iranians to be different from the family. I wanted there to be this really big cultural divide. That was important to me. 

I didn’t think that I would get away with the section written in Farsi, either, but my publishers didn’t touch that at all. In fact, we just had this funny situation where we have a wonderful, well-known actress who’s Iranian-American doing the audiobook. She only speaks some Persian, and she felt that her Persian wasn’t good enough to read that whole section out loud. So, as we speak, my mother is in a recording studio in LA, reading the mother’s (Homa) part that was all written in Farsi. My dad, too, helped me write that part, because I didn’t want it to sound like my Persian. I could have written it in my Persian, but I wanted it to sound like someone of a different generation writing a little section on Iran, and nature, and things like that. I had my dad do a lot of it, and now my mom is reading it. It’s kind of a weird and unique thing for an author of books. 

Rumpus: The last two books you published, Sick and Brown Album, were incredible works of nonfiction. How did it feel to revisit fiction? Was it muscle memory?

Khakpour: I love fiction. Fiction has always been my true love, and I would have never been a writer if it weren’t for fiction. It was writing nonfiction that felt a little bit like tourism. I was working on Tehrangeles the whole time through all of these books, and I thought that Tehrangeles was going to be my second novel. It's funny, though—my nonfiction is more popular than my fiction. It’s always been like this. The amount of readers my memoir Sick had is more than all of my books combined. The success of that book was slightly frustrating for me, because it kind of proved what I was worried about—ultimately, my greatest function for people was as a nonfiction writer. It’s nice to go back to fiction, though, to remind people that this is what came first and foremost, and what I will always think of most as writing. As art, really. Nonfiction as art feels a little bit secondary for me, even though the greatest nonfiction, of course, incorporates all of those craft elements that create great art. I compartmentalize pretty heavily, and it’s just a totally different mode to be writing in nonfiction. I just try to handle that in a much more straightforward way.

Rumpus: This is also one of the first novels I’ve read that incorporated the pandemic. It plays a large role in the story, forcing the characters to confront various aspects of themselves, and each other. I’m curious about what it meant to revisit those early months of lockdown, and how it functioned in this setting.

Khakpour: I’m someone who is interested in things right after they happen, and I want to read about life as it happens. There was a challenge, though, in writing a funny book about the pandemic. I wanted the book to obviously be satire, and to be fun, but my real life experience of the pandemic was purely horrific. I lost seven friends. I lived in Queens, New York, which was very hard hit. As I was working on this book, the soundtrack was just nonstop ambulances 24/7. I felt like I did with 9/11; I was in the center of the hard hit area, and it was very disturbing. 

Ultimately, I was a character that doesn’t really exist in the book. Maybe Mina, to some degree. Mina is longing for a communal experience, and she’s trying to educate her family. And then you have someone like Roxanna, who does my worst nightmare, which is throwing a super-spreader party. That was also a fun climax for me. A book that has a super-spreader party as its climax seemed thrilling, because the odds of me ever being in that situation were zero. Then there’s someone like Haylee, of course, who is so young, and so impressionable. She basically loses her mind during the pandemic. She goes down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theory, and ultimately becomes MAGA. In looking at Iran and some of the responses with Gaza, people are seeing the conservative Iranians very visibly right now. Right in UCLA—the heart of Tehrangeles—the aggressors tearing apart encampments are conservative Iranians. There’s an assumption that the proper position as an Iranian is to be anti-Palestinian, which is insane. Their own internalized Islamophobia is such that it has to take any position that’s very anti-Iran. There’s a feeling that the family is kind of Republican, or Republican-adjacent, but Haylee is very blatantly conservative. It’s to the point where she keeps arguing with her sisters that she’s white, and Haylee wants to identify as white. Ultimately, she was one of my favorite characters to write, because she was just so different. I could write horrible things. That experience of writing things that you’re just so opposed to; that are so insulting to your total soul—in a sense, it was kind of thrilling. Writing her, and then trying to find a way to save her—it was a difficult tightrope act.

Rumpus: I want to explore identity erasure. With Roxanna in particular, we see what it means to reject her Iranian-ness completely. 

Khakpour: I think the whole thing about Roxanna pretending to be an ethnicity that she’s not, which is the dramatic tension in her arc, is pretty real. People may think I made that up. It’s very surreal, and how could that really happen? But there are a lot of Iranian youth, I think, who pretend to be an ethnicity that they’re not, because Iranians often do have the luxury of passing for lots of things. 

In all of our lifetimes, whether you're Gen Z, Gen X, or even a boomer—you know that there’s been a lot of anti-Iranian sentiment. This is especially true in the West, but it occurs everywhere. Even throughout the Middle East there is so much anti-Iranian sentiment. It’s very tempting for young people that are already very concerned about issues of identity to then just take that leap over there. I wanted Roxanna to be in this pickle where she’s built this other identity for herself, and it works perfectly that her last name works with it; her dad’s occupation, the fact that the sisters are spaced out in school… everything works out until the idea of reality hits. And that’s kind of a funny thing. We’re talking about reality TV, but we’re also just talking about reality. Suddenly, you have to be really real. Reality TV, of course, wants to exaggerate and embellish the real elements. How can they not talk about ethnicity? Now she’s just in a state of absolute terror about what she can do to make that work, and in the end, it kind of becomes a non-issue. Nobody cares that much, but to her, it’s the end of the world. There’s this whole reckoning with her boyfriend, who is Italian, and then it’s his forgiveness of her in the end, and what that all means… I think that it was a good conceit for a piece of fiction. And I think it’s also a very real thing. I think almost every Iranian I’ve ever known—whether for issues of protection, or whatever it could be—has pretended to be someone they’re not. I’ve done it before; certainly around the 9/11 era. There were times where I felt unsafe. I would say that I was Italian. I think it’s pretty understandable, even though it's extremely comical.

*** 

Yasmin Roshanian is a writer and editor. Her work has appeared in The Rumpus, BOMB, Catapult, and elsewhere. She is at work revising a novel surrounding Iranian-Americans as they navigate college during the onset of the Obama Administration.

[booasaur]

You're so right about the genuine drama in Deadloch. The satire and jokes are great, but I was hanging on every word of the argument between Dulcie and her wife as if it mattered more than the murders. It was meaty stuff, such satisfying relationship drama for a show with so many piss jokes!

I was trying to answer this last night before the season finale dropped today, so I won't say anything about it, and also because it was really great and I don't want to spoil anyone, but right, and then the next ep just stepped it up?? The convo with Cath had me going oof, and then in ep 7, the interrogations got like, bleak.

I remember thinking to myself how effective it was that they started to get serious with Vic, since she'd always had a bit of gravitas that the others didn't, and so it felt so much more real with her, and it was so real, the subject matter, and then the usually very clownishly OTT Aleyna and Vanessa, it was really well done! It's such a smart show in terms of humor, in terms of drama, in terms of setting up a mystery, but in its emotional intelligence too, knowing when to back off the gag and when to press home. Whew.

[flurglhinge]

President Dragon wants more gold, by Tom Scocca https://www.indignity.net/president-dragon-wants-more-gold/ Pratchett's slapstick British satire is not the stuff that somber dragons-and-sex prestige television, or swoony dragons-and-sex romantic-fantasy bestseller franchises, are built on. But Guards! Guards! was prescient in other ways. It's the story of how the threadbare, drunken Night Watch of the city of Ankh-Morpork responds to an attempt to overthrow the government. The scheme is to replace the city's existing corrupt, dictatorial yet pluralistic administrator with an outright monarch by manufacturing a crisis: the Supreme Grand Master of a secret mystical society plots to magically summon a dragon, plague the city with it, and then stage the dragon's defeat at the hands of an assigned hero, who will then by acclamation become a puppet king. 

Early on, the Secret Grand Master contemplates his complaining, bumbling underlings:

What a shower, he told himself. A bunch of incompetents no other secret society would touch with a ten-foot Sceptre of Authority. The sort to dislocate their fingers with even the simplest secret handshake. 

But incompetents with possibilities, nevertheless. Let the other societies take the skilled, the hopefuls, the ambitious, the self-confident. He'd take the whining resentful ones, the ones with a bellyful of spite and bile, the ones who knew they could make it big if only they'd been given the chance. Give him the ones in which the floods of venom and vindictiveness were dammed up behind thin walls of ineptitude and low-grade paranoia. 

This book was published the year Stephen Miller turned 4 years old. Elise Stefanik was 5. Steven Cheung was 7. Kash Patel and Pete Hegseth were 9.  

The summoning magic, powered by the rage of embittered mediocrities, works. The crisis unfolds as planned, the government falls—and then the dragon reappears, turns on its summoners, incinerates the would-be king, and seizes the crown itself. At this point, the public, prepared for a coronation anyway, embraces the dragon as its new ruler: 

"The way I see it," said one of the revellers, halfway through a huge greasy lump of half-raw meat, "a dragon as a king mightn't be a bad idea. When you think it through, is what I mean." 

"It definitely looked very gracious," said the woman to his right, as if testing the idea. "Sort of, well, sleek. Nice and smart. Not scruffy. Takes a bit of a pride in itself." She glared at some of the younger revellers further down the table. "The trouble with people today is they don't take pride in themselves." 

"And there's foreign policy of course," said a third, helping himself to a rib. "When you come to think about it." 

"What d'you mean?" 

"Diplomacy," said the rib-eater, flatly...

"I mean let's say the ambassador from Klatch comes along, you know how arrogant that lot are, suppose he says, we want this, we want that, we want the other thing. Well," he said, beaming at them, "what we say is, shut your face unless you want to go home in a jar." 

They tried out this idea for mental fit. It had that certain something.

Here is a clip of a Fox News panelist explaining that demanding to buy Greenland is actually a longstanding American tradition—"Back in 1867, Democratic President Harry Truman tried to buy Greenland"—and that the autonomous territory of the sovereign nation of Denmark, a founding member of NATO, "has a lot of minerals, very important for our country."

As the dragon king settles in, the human official forced to speak for the monarch summons civic leaders to the palace to inform them of their responsibility to bring treasure to their new ruler's hoard, and to discuss with them "the matter of...the king's...diet." ("The age is immaterial. Marital status is, of course, of importance. And social class. Something to do with flavor, I believe.")

They avoided one another's faces, for fear of what they might see mirrored there. Each man thought: one of the others is bound to say something soon, some protest, and then I'll murmur agreement, not actually say anything, I'm not as stupid as that, but definitely murmur very firmly, so the others will be in no doubt that I thoroughly disapprove, because at a time like this it behooves all decent men to nearly stand up and be almost heard...

But no one said anything. The cowards, each man thought.