#the lameness is truly immeasurable

[snakesanderson]

🕺

[harfblarf]

under the auspicious moon of pride month, i will take a moment to shed cringe and make a post celebrating my niche blorbos. (Uh, ambiguous spoilers involved.)

under a cut to make my derangement an optional experience

This is my penultimate cringefail loserhusband, Shion Ribellion. He's a normal, kind of lame, kind of lazy dude who got launched into a fantasy novel as the aide of the Fallen-From-Grace Big Bad of the novel "The Holy Sword", but pre the Big-Bad-ening. The guy he became-- that is, Shion Ribellion-- was supposed to die after uncovering shady secrets of his boss' past.

He is by all accounts the weirdest fuck anyone has ever met and borderline entirely useless, except when he comes in clutch in ways no one knew was an option. It's never cool when he does it its just wildly unanticipated and often painfully earnest.

He is frequently (deservedly) bullied and it brings me immeasurable joy.

He's also the originally-kinda-reluctant now-very-passionate #1 defender, supporter, and Therapist Friend to this guy, Duke Serpens. His last name is important or something but Shion exclusively calls him by his first name because courtly etiquette could bite him directly on the nose and he'd still forget about it 5 minutes later.

Don't be fooled by his delicate good looks though, this bitch is an obsessively calculated manipulator and genuinely overpowered swordsman. The only thing standing between him and falling to the dark side is Shinon's persistent sincerity and loyalty. (No, like, REALLY the only thing. Serpens had an abusive upbringing and yada yada, but the story goes to great lengths to outline how it was a broad communal failing and strong Bystander Effect that led to Serpens' obsessive perfectionism, emotional dissociation, and subsequent downfall in the 'original' story.)

Shinon's indignance on his behalf and insistent questing for Serpens' life to improve (with tasks such as: get Serpens to admit he likes sweets! Get Serpens to pick up a hobby!) is the First time anyone has cared about him as a person and while he is understandably Incredibly Suspicious of Shion to start, they like... actually communicate?? And while both sides still keep secrets, they also acknowledge that to each other. That open communication and efforts toward bonding brings them closer, and both choose to trust each other over and over again.

The story, "The Duke's Redemption", isn't tagged BL/gay, but there is very little strictly heterosexual explanation for most of their interactions. Whatever they are, it's potent. And so fucking funny.

90% of the time, Shion is my absolute cringefail husband, the first character I've truly, deeply UNDERSTOOD the appeal of a failguy:

He has no practical skills aside from basic paperwork competency and most of the time has no fucking idea what's going on. His literal only credit is an ounce of emotional intelligence and a strong (if chronically unwise) moral compass.

He's so ridiculous that Serpens, the chronic overachiever-perfectionist who has never had a friend he's honest with, makes faces like this at him:

FOR SERPENS THIS IS A LOT.

They manipulate each other endlessly, with both of them fully aware but still suckers for it. Serpens bullies Shion in ways he can't even argue against, but always toes the line and offers sincere (if stilted) compliments alongside his blunt criticisms. Shion, useless clown that he is, puppyeyes at Serpens and mysteriously this always seems to help his case.

The story frequently indulges-- gleefully, openly, and knowingly-- in ridiculous character tropes, like Serpens' tendency to literally just like escape out windows when emotionally overwhelmed, then uses them for character growth and emotional beats.

Serpens puts his Guy through Situations but always, always stands at his back to make sure he gets out safely, and by like chapter 13 half the shit he pulls to bully Shion is a thinly veiled effort to ensure his safety.

They do shit like this:

And Shion is CONSTANTLY getting up in Serpens' space unconsciously and fretting over him (despite being demonstrably and chronically more vulnerable both physically and emotionally- though in his defense he's definitely more resilient/better at bouncing back).

Multiple characters have commented on how close and casual their relationship is, to the fluster of Shion and the apparent wariness or feigned ignorance of Serpens. (He acknowledges in private how much he lets Shion get away with, but clearly bristles when he knows other people are clocking Shion's importance and unique position.) Serpens is so much stiffer than Shion that when undercover they have been mistaken for having their roles reversed (that is, that Shion is the higher noble and Serpens his guard/assistant). And yet Shion gets away with everything and Serpens doesn't even bat an eye.

Canonically they are like almost definitely not gay. Probably. And I'm okay with that because their canon relationship is REALLY good and well-paced and, I cannot emphasize enough, fucking hilarious. But in my HEART they are so in love with each other it's STUPID. I care about them more than words can say. I have so many screenshots of them. They are so stupid I would kill for them I WISH they had a proper English-speaking fandom bc I am FROTHING AT THE MOUTH and painfully monolingual so even if they DO have a Korean fanbase I cannot touch it 😭

[This has been unhinged manwha posting with harf]

[petrichorium]

I know that Firefly is coming in 2.3 but holy s***! Did Jade caught me off guard.

KSFHEKXJJWCHUSNSIDHSJHXWMPEJ

WOMAN! WHY ARE YOU HERE!?!! It’s too early for you! 😭

I’m still going to pull for Robin. 😔✌️ Chevy, who does the singing for Robin, is literally one of my favorite singers. Then hopefully I’ll get Firefly so that I can marry her. Jade …. depending on her kit, she’s gonna have to wait.

I WAS SO SHOCKED TOO I rlly was certain we’d be getting Sunday but alas………. My immeasurable disappointment when he is inevitably not our first male harmony char is being drawn out 😔

I’m excited to see how jades kit measures up bc ngl I think both limited erudition chars have been a bit of a bust wrt staying power, even for pure fiction Herta and Himeko r outclassing them 💔 and I say that as an e4 busted build Jing Yuan haver (tho tbf his eidos r useless until u hit e6). But quantum is huge truly I’ve been lamenting how we haven’t gotten another quantum dps yet……….. would rather have a quantum destruction unit personally but we’ll see!

Robin looks like she’s gonna be rlly good!!! I personally get sooooo tired of songs easily so I probs won’t pull her solely bc I find her song annoying already but 😭😭😭 it’s cute it’s fun I’m just lame IZBCJSNJFND firefly I refuse on principle for depriving me of a robo husband I fear,,,,,,,,, misogynistic of me to be sure but the Sam I created in my head fucked so hard and I’m never gonna get over it 💔

[patchies]

Shadows

Pairing: Dream x Reader x ???

Summary: An apocalyptic world where creatures of the night roam all around it. Searching for living beings to satisfy their hunger. Vicious creatures they are. It’s said that one person called upon their wrath in revenge. You awake in this place with another human being at your side. No memories whatsoever of the life you’ve had prior to coming here. In search of a way out, and your memories, you stumble upon multiple people with many personalities. Some can’t wait to meet you. If you take it the friendly or hostile way is up to you, but worry not… Nothing can hurt you. Or can it, now?

Warnings: nothing too serious

Word Count: 2.9+k

Author's Note: Another chapter, yay! Hope you enjoy, guys! I'm sending you all love. Each and every one of you matters!

Wattpad link: here

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Chapter 5: Uneasiness

As it turned out, you bumped into Nick as you were heading back towards your home. He was quick to pull out his weapon, but you recognised him immediately and called at him. You saw him look at his main hand that was holding the hatchet and upon following his sight, you rapidly retracted your hand from his and looked away. In awkwardness, you missed the confusion etched on his face.

You both apologised instantly, both in different reasons, and he stashed the armament back into its strap and ruffled your hair. Something you had done to Tubbo not so long ago, but you suppose you deserved it.

On your way home, you had talked about your ventures. Nick gloating about his glory and how he's been more productive than you were, claiming how getting a friend instead of proper gear is lame. You knew he was teasing you, but you caught a slight bit of hesitation and envy shine through. Though, you shrugged it off for the time being.

Nick gifted you a bayonet with a white string tied around the handle and a bandana of your favourite colour as you were standing before your home. You gave him a quick hug before putting the knife into your bag and tying the cloth article around your head. He whistled as you now wore one, too.

For the rest of the day, you stored away your findings with tales of your journeys. Mostly Nick's, since you had to be honest and say he did a great job at scouting the east side of the town. Though, you told him some details about Tubbo and your time with the boy, dodging certain parts as you felt it wasn't your thing to reveal to him.

You were a little scared to tell him about their settlement the bee boy mentioned to you, but Nick seemed to know exactly what you were talking about. He had seen it from one of the taller apartments and showed you an impromptu map that he drew quickly.

To your surprise, the portrayal was decently drawn and his handwriting was legible, though he still suggested he's willing to show you the place. What didn't miss him was the chance to announce how he'll turn it into a date where you'll lie under the stars with a wink to add to the spice.

You punched his arm while he laughed it off, slouching his hit arm across your shoulder and pulling you close. This time, you jab at his ribs and he lets you go voluntarily, still laughing. It didn't even seem like you had done something to him, so you stuck your tongue at him and rushed up the stairs to sort out your own things.

A feeling like something is going to go terrible wrong sits in the pit of your stomach as you rummage through the chest.

• • •

The night comes quicker than you expect, and a not-so-stray feeling of anxiety begins to flow through your veins accompanied by your pacing as the sun slowly falls beyond your view.

The first two knocks executed on the door go unnoticed by you. It's the third one that stops you in your tracks and you go open the door for Nick, resuming your pacing once he's inside. He notices your jittery movement straight away and quirks an eyebrow at you, “You okay there?”

“Do I look like I'm okay?” You mutter to yourself, but he hears it nonetheless, “Who would be at the thought of some dangerous creatures lurking in the town at night?”

Nick sighs and slowly saunters to your side, gently resting his hands on your upper arms and makes you face him, “You weren't scared yesterday, what has changed?”

“I don't know,” you shrug, “maybe the bad feeling in my stomach that has persevered since we came home?”

“Okay, okay, smartass,” Nick's retort is light-hearted, only meant to get a smile out of you, “We are both spooked, but c'mon… What's this scowl doing on your face, pretty?”

Before you can react quickly, or protest, he flicks the skin in-between your eyebrows and tugs your lips into a smile. You grasp his wrists with your hands to lower his down and a small smile does make its way onto your face. There's no denying that he makes this hell of a place better, but there's a tight feeling in your chest at the thought of what lies in this world. You don't know if you'll ever get used to this and you seriously hope you don't even need to do that. This is a nightmare come true on its own, why would anyone want this to be real?

Your eyes shift around the room and you step away from Sap, letting his wrists fall free in the process. The lights are turned off in case there really is someone else and they might notice the lit-up house from afar. You aren't going to give people the chance of figuring out where your base is, if there are more groups alive than you realize. Even if it's people similar to Tubbo. There might be some help to find in his group, but you aren't willing to familiarise with them. Nick is the only person that you truly trust as of right now and you believe that it could be okay like this for the time being. You'll survive this. Through thick and thin, hopefully.

“We'll get through this,” he raises three of his fingers while holding his pinkie with his thumb, straightening his back. His face changes to a stern look, but silliness dances in his brown orbs, “Scout's honour.”

He expects the roll of your eyes, but the small laugh that escapes you makes his heart swell with an unknown feeling. He doesn't pay it much attention, just silently watches as you sit down on the bed against the headboard. Nick joins you in a while and gazes at you as you rest your head on his shoulder, “I honestly don't know what to expect at all and I'm worried, Sap. It's so hard to rest when my stomach is churning like I'm going to vomit.”

You feel his arm snake behind your neck and his nimble fingers soon start working their magic on your scalp, “We'll be fine, okay? There's nothing that would separate you and me. I won't leave you.”

Just then, a whistling noise echoes throughout the neighbourhood. An eerie melody that travels across the quiet street. Visible confusion is etched onto your face as you exchange looks with Nick.

The tune starts to raise its volume and it puts you, along with your companion, on guard. You wonder who is out there and what they're trying to achieve. You aren't one to test your luck, so despite your heart telling you to check the situation, you stay rooted to your spot. You were hoping the feeling wasn't going to be true, but here you are; hearing the whistles of someone unknown.

“Hey, hey,” Sap takes your hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. He leans into your view, trying to hypnotise your eyes to look into his. When he doesn't succeed, he shuffles in front of you and waits until your focus is solely on him. He gives you a soft smile, “I'm here with you. Nothing is going happen to us, I promise, and knowing you, you'd sass your way out of the situation.”

“Nick,” you start, “We've known each other for hardly three days.”

“So, what? It might be true, but your sass is immeasurable at times and you've hit me so much I lost count a long time ago,” he laughs quietly, then his laugh slowly transforms into a smirk. A teasing realisation present on his face, “You're literally hitting on me, baby.”

You groan, “I pity the person who will be with you, seriously, and don't you dare call me baby again.”

“You're with me,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, squeezing your hand playfully, “and about the 'baby' part… By seeing your reaction, I'd say I'm going to use it more often.”

Nick isn't ready for the switch of your personality as you decide to smile at him sweetly, lifting one of his hands close to your face, watching him intently. He visibly gulps and you have to push back a laugh to maintain your innocent façade. You put his hand on your cheek and lean into his palm. You stay in that position for a few seconds before rapidly moving your head and attempting to bite his finger. Your attempt is unsuccessful as he quickly retracts his hand and clutches it to his chest protectively, giving you a shocked look.

“Did I render you speechless, baby?”

The pet-name rolls of your tongue with ease. It seems so natural coming from you and his heart clearly betrays him when he feels its pace quicken. He quickly recovers, though, acting like what's just happened actually didn't, “I mean, my tactic at distracting you worked, so who's the winner here?”

“Certainly not you.”

The mood drops when you finally register the quietness, looking around you for any signs that could tell you what's happening. No whistling is heard, and you contemplate checking the windows to gather some sort of information regarding the stillness on the street. Nick gives an affirmative nod towards the boarded-up windows and gets off the bed with you. He follows your footsteps in silence, hovering over your shoulder as you get nearer.

A bolt whizzes through the air and before you can say anything, it strikes one of the planks in front of you. You flinch back into Sap's chest, guard rising, “Go take something so you could defend yourself, too, please.”

He gives you a side glance, inspecting your features, but you've put on a neutral blockage, “Will you be fine?”

The shrug you give him doesn't lower his worry and he analyses you one more time. He walks off in search of anything sharp and usable after you signal your certainty. As he leaves, you eye the bayonet strapped to your thigh. The metal weapon giving you at least some sort of reassurance.

Pure silence follows and you hold your breath in as you glance through the gaps in the barricade. Someone is definitely too close to your preference, yet you can't see anyone outside. They're hostile, that's without doubt. The bolt that clearly sticks out of the wood is an obvious proof of the hostility.

The moon's glow then reveals a person standing in its light, illuminating their figure.

They have a pig mask on with small tusks protruding from the side and a hood over their head with thick white fur adorning the sides of it. Raspberry pink, clearly chopped, shoulder-length hair visibly poking out and the wind ruffling it a bit. A shiny golden crown, which adorns gems of multiple colours, rests atop. You can't phantom how it's holding on the hood. Their crimson red cape with golden clasps and rubies attached to it flows in the wind and the crossbow's metal parts are shining. There's a satchel of bolts attached to the side of their thigh as they balance on the roof across from you.

“Who are you ogling at?”

The whisper against your ear makes you swat at his chest, shushing him immediately. He feigns being hurt, but raises his arms to swat at you back. It's when the figure proceeds to speak do you stop and a realisation comes to you that it is in fact a male, “Dream, I warned you to not come here. Ever. Wasn't the last time enough for you?”

Your interest peaks at the mention of a past encounter the supposedly two people had, wondering how that one had gone. From his words, it doesn't sound like it went very greatly and completely not in favour of Dream's side. What moved him into trying to take over the land again if he knew he had lost the last fight?

Nick watches your investment in the conversation rise, so he just crosses his arms. The hatchet at his hip ready to be taken out in case something was to happen. Though, he settles for watching you for now.

“I don't care, Techno. I own these lands. It's only fair that you will surrender and hand it over.”

“Don't make us fight you, pig.”

Another voice; another male one. This time it's slightly higher pitched than the other two, an obvious British accent to its overall sound.

Just from a few spoken sentences, you can tell both sides are ready to fight. What you aren't sure of, is if they'll really start fighting here or leave to sort it out elsewhere. You're praying it's the latter. Although your hopes aren't high when you continue listening in on their conversation.

“And I don't care, because you're stepping foot into my territory,” Techno, or whatever they called him, continues, “I shot a warning shot to gain your attention, but I will make sure to be precise this time and aim for your vulnerable body parts. Especially you and not a wooden plank. You damn well know I hold poison bolts and the two of you surely recognise my capabilities with a crossbow. You get struck with one, just one, poison arrow and you can go back to your village to get it taken care of.”

Territory? What's he talking about– wait… Don't tell me he's protecting us…?

You can't see the others, but you get a feeling Techno is more important than them. For whatever reason that is, you aren't able to steer your eyes away from his figure. A sense of déjà vu flowing through your body as you marvel at the man. You believe you've seen this man before. Even if once in your life, but your foggy memory blocks any of this information from you.

Unexpectedly he turns his head towards the window you're looking out of and locks eyes with you. Maroon eyes that sparkle with mischief meeting yours. He cocks an eyebrow at you, as if challenging you. Unable to see it, nor perceive it as a challenge, you deliver no reply. You're more than curious by the exchange, but it doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest. Even though he noticed you, he doesn't do anything about you. Merely directs his gaze back to the people below him. Which strikes you as weird since you were guessing he'd do something. Literally anything. Yet, you're glad for his act of kindness. If it can be interpreted as such.

You completely miss the way Nick looks at you. The gears in his head turning at the strange stare off you two had. Do they know the guy? He doesn't like the look of the Techno guy at all and the ping of jealousy seems to agree with him as well. He knows it well, yet he just rests his hand on your shoulder.

“We have armour and there's two of us. You can't fight us both and win.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of your words,” the reply is overly confident, “I've fought many and still came out with no scratches. You're belittling my knowledge of fighting and tactical thinking.”

After Techno finishes his sentence, arrows and bolts go flying through the air.

The very first one coming from him as another warning shot. This time not aimed at your house, but at the ground. Another two come from the ground level but miss him by a few feet. Terribly aimed shots, if you have to say (not like you could do better, but you're just a spectator in this situation). They don't seem to be that good at aiming at the pink-haired man, rather missing him. To your bewilderment, he never flinches or tries to dodge. Basically, a still target for both of the shooters.

Not that his aim is any better, but you hear one of the guys wince multiple times as if the bolt scraped him. The distance is also something to take into consideration.

The final shot before the shooting halts is taken by Techno, who decides to truly aim at one of them and you can hear a high-pitched scream echo throughout the whole street.

This can't be good.

You start hearing the inhuman screeches from everywhere and Shadows start flying from the end of the street. You gasp in horror because this isn't what you were expecting. You didn't expect them to attract a whole bunch of the creatures and possibly doom you all.

“George! You idiot! You were supposed to dodge, not walk straight into his range!” Dream yells at the whining guy, “You've attracted Shadows now. Good job.”

“Look what you've–”

The rest of the words are tuned out by the screeches of the monsters. Nick squats down to the floor, tugging you along with him. He doesn't let you say a word as you sit next to each other, holding a finger to his mouth when he sees you ready to tell him something.

While you rest your heads against one another, both of you come to terms that sound attracts them very easily as you hear them bang against trash cans and dumpsters, chasing their intruders. You wait until you hear no more screeching, slowly rising to your feet and looking through the gaps once more to check for any signs of the creatures.

When you find none, you send Nick to his own bedroom, insisting you'll be fine. He gives you three chances to back down from your statement, but you persist through. As he has no reason not to trust you, he slowly retreats to his room with a promise that if you need anything, just to wake him up.

[tonya-the-chicken]

Zagreus is so fucking awesome. I really usually vibe with more morally complex side character but Hades is the game where I fell in love with the protagonist

He is everything I have ever wanted. He is kind but not a pushover, he feels like he doesn't belong and he *works* on solving his issues even if it defies what is expected from him. He wants to run away from his problems but he realizes he can't (the hard way) and eventually, he confronts his parents not to just be a bitch but to help them fix it. He decided to stop running away from his life, hoping to find his mother and finally find a place where he belongs. He decided to make the place where he is now truly his. And he helps others help their problems just the way they help him... His kindness is immeasurable

I am absolutely charmed by everything in this game and I can tell that it was made with love but I have a soft spot for Zagreus because he just... The ideal of a person but at the same time he is not,,, boring? Usually, when the author writes someone ultimately good they made them disgustingly lame but Zagreus has his spice... Maybe it's the struggles he goes through, maybe it's his snarky remarks. Idk... He is perfect

[elders-of-the-sky]

What di you guys think about krills?

((You shouldn’t have asked that, anon))

((Trigger Warning: mentions of death))

Prairie Elder: You mean the dark dragons?

Prairie Elders: Well, I think that-

Isle Elder: ONE OF THOSE FRACKERS KILLED ME AND BROKE LAMED’S MASK!!! I’D HUNT THEM ALL DOWN MYSELF IF GIVEN-!

Vault Elder: *awkward throat clearing*

Isle Elder: ...Anyways, I’m not fond of them. I have bad experiences with them as a whole.

Vault Elder: The Dark Dragons are nothing but trouble for everybody. They have stolen light and slaughtered too many of our kin to count. That includes three of our fellow elders.

Wasteland: ...

Wasteland: I invoke my right to not answer this question while in the presence of others.

Vault: We understand. What about the rest of you?

Twin 1: They’re kinda scary, but they don’t...bother me too much? I dunno, it makes sense in my head. They come from crabs so they’re kinda cool too I guess.

Twin 2: I keep having weird dreams about them.

Vault Elder: ...would you...care to elabora-?

Twin 2: No.

Forest Elder: I would reduce them all to oil and sludge if I could do so, my anger towards them is immeasurable after what they did...

Prairie Elder: I mean, yeah they’re ‘kinda scary��� and have done us more harm than good, but they’re just doing what comes naturally to them.

Prairie Elder: They’re animals, true, but like all the animals of our world, they have dreams, aspirations and families like we do. The only thing truly separating us is the language barrier.

Prairie Elder: Regardless of our stances toward dark dragons, krills, or whatever we call them, we should remember to respect their position in the natural order of things. Their rampancy in the world is our own fault after all...

Others: ...

Vault Elder: We are...done answering this question.

[vex-bittys]

Those Unreachable Stars: A Yanderetale Story (part 34)

WARNING: All parts of this fanfic will be tagged NSFW even if they do not contain NSFW content because the overall theme of Yanderetale is NSFW.

Contains: some sexual content, some sexual language, blowjob (mention), handjob (mention), possessive behavior, rough sex (mention)

Sans had the brazen nerve to act nonplussed when I confronted him about the situation after work that day, as if he planned to pick me up and I surprised him by showing up at his sentry station instead, as if he hadn’t been avoiding me for days. I wasn’t upset because he was dating someone, I lied, or even that he hadn’t told me that he was dating someone (another lie). I didn’t even care that I found out when his new boyfriend showed up at Muffett’s to pick up his medicine because Cap turned out to be an absolutely adorable angel (kind of a lie). The thing that truly bothered me was that Sans abruptly stopped showing up to walk me home.

Sans let me worry about him. Sans made me feel like I’d been forgotten. Sure, learning that his new love interest took up so much of his time that he couldn’t spare me so much as a hello would hurt, but at least I would know where we stood. At least I would know that nothing bad had happened to him.

By the time I completed my tirade, tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, too many to hide, and soon they ran down cheeks reddened by embarrassment at shedding them.

“aww, don’t cry,” Sans comforted me despite the fact that I directly blamed him for my sadness.

I sniffled, but continued crying anyway. “Cap invited me to come over, but why would I want to hang out somewhere that I’m not even wanted?”

----------

He froze, mind whirling. Did Vasi remember what YanYan had done to her? Did she blame him for not stopping YanYan? How could she be so cool and collected about it?

“how do you know he doesn’t want you there?” he hedged, fishing for information.

“I meant you,” Vasi shouted at him, still crying. He wanted to brush the tears away, to make it all better, but he doubted she wanted his consolation. “Why would Cap invite me to the house if he didn’t want me there?” Vasilia’s golden eyes radiated a mixture of SOUL-deep pain and sincere confusion. She thought he was talking about Cap, and he didn’t correct her.

What she didn’t remember couldn’t hurt her.

“we’re doin’ a movie night on friday,” Brassberry offered the information like a white flag of surrender though he never admitted any wrongdoing. “maybe you’d like to join us? it’ll be just like old times…” He paused, then added. “i miss you, Vasi.”

----------

Sans told me he missed me, but he never once showed it. Honestly though? I missed him too and the time we used to spend together. I wanted to stay angry, I really did. He deserved it. I also wanted to storm off, but I’m just not the confrontational type. The raw emotion drained out of me, and I gave in.

Maybe a friendship could work between us. It involved me letting go of my feelings for Sans and accepting his new relationship, and it started with a simple step.

“I’ll be there.”

(Later):

Casual or cute? I asked myself for the millionth time, staring at practically every clothing item I owned laid out on my bed. Kigurumis were traditional for movie nights, but the last thing I wanted to do was traipse through Snowdin in a panda onesie. Besides, I didn’t own a kigurumi, not anymore. Kigurumis were something you wore with friends, and I lived alone. In the end, I decided on casual, throwing on an oversized sweater and some yoga pants, my go-to outfit for lounging around the house. I would just be lounging around a different house tonight.

A short brisk walk through the snow-kissed streets of Snowdin led me to Sans’ front door. I raised a hand to knock, but I never got a chance. The door flew open, and Cap scooped me up (off my feet!) into a bone-crushing hug that left me feeling winded but warmly welcomed. I gasped for breath as Cap deposited me onto the couch then shouted at the ceiling for Sans to hurry up.

Two sets of footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Nobody ever accused Sans of moving quietly, and he descended the stairs accompanied by the sound of his characteristic stomp. Lighter footfalls followed behind him. YanYan. I hoped that the elegant skeleton had forgotten his animosity towards me, but as soon as I came into view, his sockets narrowed dangerously. He turned to Sans.

“WE’LL DISCUSS THIS LATER,” he hissed. Apparently his future destination took priority over driving me from the house like a one-skeleton angry mob, brandishing a pitchfork in one hand and a torch in the other. He swept imperiously out the door without further comment, and Sans joined us on the couch.

Cap scooted over to make room for his boyfriend, squishing me against the armrest of the couch. Sans grabbed the television remote and sank into the cushions next to Cap, who spread his arms like generous wings across the backrest of the sofa to encompass both of us. I pretended not to notice that Cap and Sans both wore kigurumis, but the twisting in my heart forestalled any chance of denial. As in every single other aspect of my life, I was the odd one out.

----------

He wished that Cap had opted to let him sit in the middle. The idea of being sandwiched between Vasilia and his boyfriend tempted him to daydream of what might happen if the three of them became bored with the movie. A mental image formed of midnight blue hair and a sticker covered skull at groin height, of Vasi and Cap kneeling in front of him, prepared to worship his cock together with their tongues and mouths. He subtly shifted in an attempt to hide his erection.

----------

Cap struggled to follow the complicated plot of the movie, and the way his beloved Brassy kept casting indiscreet glances at his female friend distracted him even more from the characters on the television screen. As Cap’s mind wandered, so did his hands. At first, he dropped them down into his lap while he contemplated Brassy’s constant shuffling and the faraway look in his eyelights. Soon one of his hands found its way into Brassy’s lap and discovered his erection.

Cap forgot about the movie completely and began to knead at Brassy’s cock through the soft fabric of the kigurumi. The flurry of movement caught the woman’s attention, but Cap didn’t care. Let her watch! That way she would know who Brassy belonged to! Eyes fluttered open underneath the stickers on Cap’s skull as his thoughts turned possessive.

----------

I came to the house prepared to accept a variety of relationship type things: kissing, cuddling, terms of endearment. I came to the house to enjoy a movie in spite of my conflicted feelings. I came to the house to make friends with Cap and maintain my friendship with Sans. I did not come to the house to watch Cap openly giving Sans a handjob while I sat right there next to them.

I doubted my words registered to either skeleton, but I made my excuses to leave anyway. “I have to feed my-” What kind of pet would be plausible? Did it matter? “-self,” I finished lamely, dismissing myself and rising from the couch. By the time I circled the coffee table to continue my escape, Cap had unzipped the front of Sans’ kigurumi, and I turned my head to avoid seeing more than I bargained for.

“I had a, uh, nice time. I’ll… see you guys around then. Sometime. Bye.” With each rushed word, I shuffled a little closer to the door, keeping my eyes on the floor and pretending the lewd sounds I heard were coming from the movie and not the two preoccupied skeletons on the couch.

I let the door close softly behind me as I hastily retreated to my cozy but lonely apartment.

----------

Sex with Cap that night was rough, bordering on frantic, and Brassberry welcomed it. Seeing an older ember that never quite got fanned into flame alongside his current lover had riled him up, and he had sexual energy and aggression to spare. Once Cap got claiming him out of his system, Brassberry turned the tables, and the pair spent the night satisfying their similar desires- for Brassberry to focus only on Cap and not think about Vasi.

Not a single sticker loosened from Cap’s skull, and for that, and the sweet release of orgasm, Brassberry was immeasurably thankful.

PREV | INDEX | NEXT

[leahbrice163557-blog]

Exporting To ITunes

The lossless comparison page aims to gather information about lossless codecs out there so customers can make an knowledgeable resolution as to what lossless codec to choose for his or her needs. If you're okay with ok" music high quality, if your audio file would not have any music, or if you need to preserve disk house, use lossy audio compression. Most people truly cannot hear the distinction between lossy and lossless compression. After you hit Convert", it's going to ask you to point to the Winamp codec if you have Winamp put in, or it should routinely begin converting when you've got iTunes put in and selected the Apple AAC codec. There are two essential methods to get your FLAC information legally: ripping from CD or purchasing from a digital store. Ripping is straightforward to do however you will need the proper software on your laptop. Nonetheless, there are some devices that enable you to tear and retailer FLAC information on a networked onerous drive with out having to ever contact a COMPUTER; the Bluesound Vault is certainly one of these.

Basically none. As a result of they know that the difference between FLAC and high-bitrate MP3 or AAC is totally irrelevant to 99.ninety eight% of what you hear in a recording. All the stuff that issues - the studio, the ungodly-expensive recording tools, microphones, amplifiers, the engineer on the soundboard, the strategy of the recording artist, the headphones the engineer wears when he does the combo - these are immeasurably extra necessary to sound high quality than a file format. After which, the remaining 10% or so of what you hear comes all the way down to what you play it by - the decoding gear or CD participant, the amplifier, the speaker or headphones. Convert any video format to ALAC, FLAC, MP3 or to another audio format. You can choose any location for the export such as a "Music" folder on your Desktop or even the iTunes "Music" folder if you have one. However it's essential to still import this file from the exported location into the iTunes Library (which makes it seen in Library > Music on the left hand panel of iTunes). Utilizing FLAC to compress an audio file to roughly 50% of its unique dimension. The principle benefits of a FLAC file in addition to it being lossless is that it may be used for streaming, and flac to alac converter decoding is fast, permitting for actual time decoding to take place. A FLAC file additionally contains a number of data integrity checks in the header file. The metadata associated with the audio has been future proofed additionally to permit new fields to be outlined with out impacting existing decoders. If you wish to distribute your information on the internet (for example as a podcast), it's best to select MP3 because the Format within the Export dialog, as it is a area-saving (although barely lossy ) format that anybody should be capable to play. To export as MP3 from Audacity you want first to download the LAME encoder and point Audacity to it (see Lame Set up ). Step 2: Choose MP3 format from Audio presets. In the menubar, click on on iTunes then choose Preferences. Close to the underside of the dialog, click on Import Settings. Click the dropdown and select Apple Lossless. Finally, click on OKAY for each dialogs and you're all set. The subsequent time you insert a CD, it can import as ALAC reasonably than AAC. For the data you might be after, i.e., is the conversion from ALAC to FLAC actually lossless, identical FFP checksums of your two FLAC information must be enough to allay your concerns. If the MD5 checksums are equivalent, that means that the FFP checksums can even match. Bandcamp is a tremendous music website that has been operating since 2007. They're one of the only sites that puts the ability to sell music straight into the palms of the artists themselves. There is not any middleman or distributor. Bandcamp does accumulate charges based mostly on sales and downloads however it's one of the crucial fair music fashions round. You may find an incredible selection of music from indie and mainstream artists. The download file formats out there by way of Bandcamp are FLAC, ALAC, AAC, Ogg Vorbis, WAV and AIFF in addition to MP3. Use your favorite BitTorrent client, akin to Vuze or uTorrent, to seek for the music you want and then download versions which are in FLAC format (Free Lossless Audio Codec). FLAC is most popular format of lossless audio compression. It's open supply, free and effectively maintained by a group of fans. During playback FLAC decompresses to the original recorded soundtrack (in digital format, after all), whereas MP3 makes psycho-acoustic tradeoffs to achieve larger compression. Frankly, chances are you'll find things much easier for those who just integrate the information with your iTunes library through the ALAC format. But, in case you may have other plans, we have found among the best apps out there, all of which may be downloaded via the app retailer on iTunes. Here you'll be able to free obtain this FLAC to ALAC Converter software with windows model or Mac model according to your self, and set up it in your pc or Mac, after which you may open the main interface of this system.

[stargulch-archive]

Also Cato I feel weird saying this to someone because I haven’t told anyone but myself yet but I just finally figured out I’m a trans guy? I don’t think I ever really understood what being trans meant but a few days ago it finally Clicked. I was kinda scared (but also relieved?) at first but then (and I know this sounds kinda weird) I started thinking about how you’re such a role model for me and it wasn’t so scary anymore?? 🐋 (1/2)

Anonymous said: and yeah. I know it’s all “don’t see someone on the Internet as a role model because you don’t truly know them” and yeah I guess I don’t know you like a best friend does but you just seem so open and kind and that’s something I’ve always wanted to be. And to see someone who’s going through something similar to me still be kind and a Genuine Person, makes me have hope for discovering the rest of my future. Sorry if this was creepy or weird! But I just wanted to say thank you 💓🐋 (2/2)

ok. so. i saw this ask when you originally sent it last night and dude i am not joking when i said i literally started bawling. like, it was fully on ugly crying. i had to message my best friend and sob to her about it because i literally was just in Shock.

first off, let me say, i am SO proud of you for coming to terms with this fact about yourself. i understand first-hand that it’s not an easy thing to do (i mean, i knew i wasn’t cis for 6 years and only two years ago i actually let myself ID as trans and then one year ago i finally was like “okay FINE i guess i can ID as a boy now”). the amount of bravery it takes to sit down and say “hey, this is who i think i am” is immeasurable. having the courage to not only understand who you are but to BE who you are is so incredibly amazing. i know i already said this but i am so proud of you. thank you so much for being you.

one of the most important things to me as a creator, for both fandom and original work, is being someone that others can look up to. and i don’t mean that in a narcissistic way or anything--i found out i was trans because of a content creator (and now dear friend) i deeply admired, and honestly? without seeing someone like that, i probably would’ve lived the rest of my life vaguely uncomfortable as a cis girl and died at the elderly age of 45 being vaguely happy. the fact that i had someone who i could relate to doing things that i wanted to do made it so much easier to accept the fact that i wasn’t who i thought i was going to be, and that it’s okay for things like that to happen.

all i’ve ever wanted in life was to create or be something that impacted others. and like, to anyone else reading this, they’re probably going to be like “oh, wow, okay, cato is being melodramatic again” but like. whatever. this is a big moment?? the amount of joy that i feel for you is overwhelming. the fact that i could be someone you look up to (or, like, Sort Of Look Up To) is just so baffling to me because like. i’m genuinely kind of lame and i might act like Hot Shit on here but i mean. i write voltron fanfiction soooo jokes on you, whale anon, your role model is a loser. so, uh. this is a longwinded way to say that these asks genuinely made me the happiest person in the world, second to you (because holy shit dude, you’re a dude. congrats man) and i think they sort of completed my life goal? so like. thank you for that. i love you.

if you ever want to talk about stuff, whether it's just like. trans stuff or random things in general, you can ALWAYS send an ask (on anon or off) and if there’s a chance we’re mutuals you can always hit me up with a DM and i’ll probably cry all over again. also if we aren’t mutuals...what are we doing. let me follow u.

ANYWAY.

tl;dr: i am so proud of you, i love you, & i will die for you. thank you for existing.

[recklessandwandering]

A Year in Review

By tradition, it’s time for my annual review! From @md-admissions​

1 - What did you do in 2018 that you’d never done before?

Get a Masters Degree, get accepted into medical school, gain new immediate family members

2 - Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

My new years resolution was to cry. I did not

This years is: vomit less, cry more. We shall see.

3 - Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yeah! One of my good friends at work

4 - Did anyone close to you die?

My Aunt Barbara.

5 - What countries did you visit?

Canada! Yay!

6 - What would you like to have in 2019 that you lacked in 2018?

A partner to celebrate the little things

7 - What date from 2018 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

10/25/2018- the day I was accepted into my first medical school

8 - What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Getting accepted into medical school!!

9 - What was your biggest failure?

The queries at work that did not work out. My ability to manage my anxiety/depression/mental health

10 - Did you suffer illness or injury?

I did the thing when you stop sleeping and then your body shut downs. Whoops.

11 - What was the best thing you bought?

Technically my med school applications?

12 - Whose behavior merited celebration?

The students in Parkland who fought for the things they deserve. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez for defending the people who need it most. Dr. Christine Blasey Ford for being brave in a world where women are not respected.

13 - Whose behavior made you appalled or depressed?

The Republican leaders of America

14 - Where did most of your money go?

Medical school things: MCAT, application, and secondary applications

15 - What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Graduating! Finishing my applications! Kesha/Macklemore concert! So. many. weddings. !.

16 - What song(s) will always remind you of 2018?

Good Old Days- Macklemore and Kesha

17 - Compared to this time last year, are you:

I. Happier or sadder?

Sadder. Womp. 

II. Thinner or fatter?

The same? 

III. Richer or poorer?

Poorer.

18 - What do you wish you’d done more of?

Yoga. Races.

19 - What do you wish you’d done less of?

Snacking on sweets. Avoiding my emotions. Napping to solve problems.

20 - How will you be spending/spent christmas?

Christmas is nice because I get to go home for more than 2 days. I was with my family.

21 - Did you fall in love in 2018?

Nope.

22 - How many one-night stands?

Two. Yikes.

23 - What was your favorite tv program?

Code Black. Which is sadly cancelled now.

24 - Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

But of course.

25 - What was the best book you read?

One Hundred of Years of Solitude. Also the only book I read.

26 - What was your greatest musical discovery?

Hayley Kiyoko. 

27 - What did you want and get?

To get into med school. To kiss a certain boy. To see Macklemore in person.

28 - What was your favorite film of this year?

Set It Up, To All The Boys I Loved Before, Crazy Rich Asians, Good Will Hunting

29 - What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

In VA Beach with my girls who also turned 25! We were in an Irish bar I think and I heard the song “Shut Up and Dance” and took it as a command. And the people in the bar had a fun time watching me. We also drank too many blue long islands. I threw up in the shower the next day and went home and had a bbq in my back yard with my family and best frands.

30 - What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

A romantic partner. Which is lame BUT TRULY.

31 - How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2018?

High. Waisted. Everything.

32 - What kept you sane?

Diet Coke and coffee. And afternoon naps with rain.

33 - Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Tom Holland

34 - What political/social issue stirred you the most?

Healthcare reform, healthcare for children, access to care, the fact that nazis are frolicking in the US without a care, gun reform and school shootings, believing all females.

35 - Who did you miss?

My campers.

36 - Who was the best new person you met?

Hanna, my ENFP pen-pal 

37 - Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2018:

Alone is not the same as lonely.

[kuzhukdotharl]

Strength

~Many years ago...~

The boy stood there in front of The Burned House. The black figure stood like an obelisk of shadow, the flickering flames illuminating his stern and grizzled features as he looked at the entrance to the tent. The cool night time winds of the Azim Steppe whispered sweet nothings into his ear as he waited patiently to be summoned before the High Council, he would be the last to undergo the Rite of Naming and become a Man in the eyes of the tribe.

For sixteen summers, he had toiled and grown both in skill and power, much to the chagrin of his tribemates. He had waited for this moment, for the time when he would finally receive his true name and ride with the warband against the enemies of the Dotharl. He had dreamed about this night since he was a youngling, running through the green fields with Khorgany. All those memories and past summers felt like a distant age though as he now waited in anticipation, the tales of his father howling in his mind. Tonight, he took his first real steps to finding the Dusk Mother.

“Enter, O youth of the plains. Stand before your tribe” an old yet firm voice called from within the tent. His heart racing, Kuzhuk stepped forwards and entered The Burned House.

A barrage of incense and smoke met the boy as he came into the sacred meeting place of tribe members past and present. The dark tent was lit only by the large bonfire that raged in its center, a pillar of smoke rising directly upwards and exiting through a hole in the roof. The heat of the roaring flame could not compare though to the burning gazes that Kuzhuk felt pierce into his very soul as he stepped up to the flames to be judged. The various heads of the tribe were present, all adorned in the traditional garments of their station, each wearing the mask of their next life. Sitting in the back, the boy swore he could see the figure of his father, who wore the mask of the red hawk. Kuzhuk dared not look to his teacher and father though, to do so would be weakness, and in this time of judgment, that was something that he could not afford to be shown.

Opposite form he, on the other side of the bonfire, stood a singular figure who wore a mask engraved with the markings of an owl. Her statuesq state and steady gaze was unnerving. This was Nüürsnii Nüd, Coal Eyes, the Elder Seer of his kin. The Xaela woman held her bone staff tightly, leaning on it to alleviate her lame leg, the flames casting a ballet of dancing shadows across her contours. “Who stands before us? We who bring salvation to the meek” Coal Eyes said, her voice filling the silent chamber, the crackle of the bonfire her only competition for dominance.

“It is I, Kuzhuk, son of Khüchirkheg, child of the green sea, first of my name borne unto the Dotharl” the boy said loudly, returning the dominant voice with one of his own as he stood tall. His 7’8 form cut a truly intimidating figure, and apparently, he was still growing - though this did not seem to faze Coal Eyes in the least. Instead, the woman continued the Rite as was common. “O youth of the green sea, you stand before the spirits of our brood who have seen you grow. The time has come for them to reveal to you your true soul, one free of this mortal coil. Will you stand and be judged?” the woman asked, earning a swift, “I shall”. With a small grin that caused a small flurry of surprise, Coal Eyes gave a nod, “Then let the spirits guide us towards the immortal truth”

The seer hissed as she threw what looked like dust of some sort into the bonfire, causing it to bellow with new life and begin to slowly change colors. Blue, green, black, and more filled the spacious tent as all eyes seemed to focus in on the flame, waiting for what revelation the seer would provide for them. “I see… Rage, power, unlimited potential, the trappings of the most revered of our kin” Coal Eyes said as she stared into the flame, seeing what the spirits decreed and saw within the boy. These words filled him with a sense of pride, a feeling of heat that the fire could ill hope to match. “In you lies more than just a warrior, I see both an unstoppable force and an immovable object melding into one. The salt sea crashing against the mighty crags of the coast, neither yielding in their immortal conflict” Coal Eyes decreed. The years of immeasurable training and warring felt like distant memories as the boy let a confident yet small smile creep up onto his face.

“-and yet, for all the light of these flames, I see a terrible darkness clinging to you, vapors of unbelief that distance you from communing with our kin and the spirits” Coal Eyes said, her voice firm and steadfast as she peered into the flame of many colors. The smile on Kuzhuk’s face disappeared, a feeling of dread coming forth as his mind raced with a million questions. What did the seer mean by darkness? How could she see unbelief in him when he was a zealot amongst their kin? How was he blind to his kin and their eternal spirits? A cold sweat broke out from the man’s brow as he tried to reconcile these accusations in his mind, a ripple of murmuring flowed across the room. He was here to be judged, his tribe his jurors, he could not show weakness here.

In matters of the spirit, the Seer had made her divination, now, it was to the various heads of the clan to whom matters of secular insight came from. Kuzhuk could only watch as his father, Shonkor Orgil, Falcon’s Peak, rose and approached the bonfire. It was he who now would reconcile for the seer his observations, and it was he who Kuzhuk hoped would alleviate this strange turn of events. Yet, as the colorful flames illuminated the old warrior’s grizzled and scarred body, his red mask seemed more predatory and hostile as it gazed at the boy, disapproving almost of the prey who couldn’t manage to even scamper away back to the shadows. “Here me now, my brothers and sisters, for I, Falcon’s Peak, will bridge the dissonance between spirit and son, and attempt to explain the discordance that fills this troubled youth’s soul” the intimidating man said, his voice booming around the tent, his silver eyes looking into an identical pair with utter contempt.

For once in a very long time, Kuzhuk felt a chilled hand of fear grip at his very soul. His heart raced as his felt his father look into his eyes with such utter disgust, it was enough to make the normally dominant boy look away and into the flame. He still struggled to understand what was going on. In a blur though, his father had crossed the distance between them and grabbed onto his arm like a vise, holding it out to the flame to see and illuminate his open palm. It was only in this movement that the boy realized what it was his father now made evident to the clan. “Behold! The mark of a blood oath, a scarred and permanent pact between two spirits that lasts far beyond the confines of this meager life!” Faclon’s Peak shouted, an uproar of disapproval erupted within the tent. Blood oaths weren’t only taboo, they were binding in the eyes of the Dusk Mother, never something to take lightly.

“Do you deny it?” Falcon’s Peak asked the boy, his silver eyes full of anger. “No, I do not” Kuzhuk stated through grit teeth. As a child who craved power, he now felt completely powerless. “It was a childish action, one made long ago and with the conscious and cluelessness that only a child could posess” the boy stated, this earned a sharp scoff from his father who publicly reprimanded him, “The Dusk Mother cares not for age. Life is eternal, our chapters but one of many in a never-ending book of reincarnation. You have sealed your existence towards your partner until the ends of time!” the man yelled. Kuzhuk shook in his sandals as he felt the raw and unadulterated wrath of Falcon’s Peak be unleashed upon him in a torrent of hate. “What’s worse is that this girl is not one of our own! A tribe-less curr who is little more than a beast clothed in rags!” this last part particularly enraged those in attendance. Such breaking of tradition was an outrage, a clamour of anger now erupted as the elders of the Dotharl stood to their feet and began shouting. Some called for the boy to be killed, others demanded he complete a rite to absolve his black deed, and even others simply called for him to be tortured as an example. However, it was finally Coal Eyes who restored order.

“SILENCE!” she yelled, the colorful flames bellowing out in a surge that alarmed the elders into submission. The seer stood tall and in control as she looked at the father and son who were now locked in silent conflict. The young man felt his blood run cold, his silver gaze meeting the only matching pair that this world knew. As calm was restored within the yurt, Coal Eyes looked through the wisps of the hearth to Kuzhuk. ”I am udgan, and I shall speak the will of those undying who are present in spirit instead of body” she hissed, verbally castrating the men as they were cowed back to their seats. Shoncor Orgil returned to his own post as well, watching, as always through his thinly layered mask of contempt.

Coal eyes spoke with her usual old and coarse voice, “Oh youth of the grass. You have lost your path. Your body is strong, but your heart remains weak and docile. This does not need to be, poor child, we, your tribe, will make you whole again” she promised, hobbling around the fire slowly, her shadow dancing brilliantly against the sides of the yurt. Kuzhuk forced his gaze to remain looking forwards, even as the creeping voice of the udgan drifted closer and closer to his horn. “Close your eyes, my child. Speak now what strength means to you” she commanded, to which he complied. “It is unstoppable power: to crush our enemies, and to hear the lamentation of the women. We undying revel in the glory of war, it is the natural order” he stated, earning a few nods of approval from some of the younger members of the council who had earned their names. This reply seemed to earn a small chuckle from the wise woman, “So they say” she clicked with a prompt swish of her tail.

“You would say that your undying fire is one purely physical, you neglect one half of your essence” she instructed, moving around him slowly as it inspecting him for the smallest chink in his skin which she could pry open and expose his fragility to all. “Strength is not a goal to strive for, it is a dogma, a scripture that your heart must follow in its entirety. We kill, we raid, we do these not because we like to, but because we must. The weak must be given mercy, it would be a crime against all nature to allow them to live a miserable life, what we do to them, we do out of kindness. To cull the inferior tribes, to wipe them away with the palm of our hands, to burn all impurities- such things leave only the strong. They are worthless, they should not be allowed to live such a pathetic life, to live and to die as sheep.” Coal Eyes explained, revolving around Kuzhuk as he stood there firmly, only her words and the warmth of the fire seemingly reaching his fermenting mind.

“To give mercy is to leave the weak alive only to die and suffer a meaningless existence. They bring no glory, no purpose. What we do, as the strong, as the undying, is to prove to Nhamma and to the spirits that we are not sheep. We prove to them with our hearts and our bodies that we are eternal, within us is a fire that will consume all, such is our duty, our purpose- our strength” she finished, at last coming to a halt behind the large ebony form of Kuzhuk. He had remained unnervingly still, like an obelisk caught between the flames of the familiar and the whispers of something far deeper that he only now tried to confront. The summers of adventures with Khorgany, with his childhood friend, they all felt like distant vapors slipping with his mind, like lies, like wasted time. It was only now, standing here in this yurt, facing the immortal flame before him, that he slowly felt a new sensation course through his very being: revelation.

“I see it. It hides in my heart, holding me back from what you speak” he replied slowly. He did not need to see the udgan’s face to feel the smile that was silently etched into his flesh. “You need only speak that malformation that corrupts you. Together, as a tribe, you shall be made pure by the flame, and only then, will you become a man” Coal eyes promised with a small grin as she looked to the bonfire in the center of the yurt. The words came slowly to his lips, like an eternity passing for each syllable as he spoke them, “Khorgany Novsh” he grunted. Those within the yurt repeated his proclamation in a chant, “Khorgany Novsh”. He could feel the heat of the flame warm him suddenly, more so than before, like he was only feeling it now for the first time since entering the yurt.

“KhorganyNovsh” he repeated, his voice grunting and speaking the name all at once, as if doing so would exercise her corrupting memories from his mind once and for all. Again, the tribe repeated, blurring the words even more, “Khoganovsh” they said. Kuzhuk could feel his heart beating more rapidly as the heat of the fire increased, seemingly ignoring all barriers of flesh and touch to instead scorch his heart. He could feel them, the licks of flame burning him from the inside out. Coal Eyes nodded in approval as she saw the small twitches and spasm’s on the boy’s face. “Khorgovsh” he rushed out, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned white from rage. “Khorvosh” the tribe repeated in unison. This cycle continued, his voice, his memories of her name and of their days devolving into an incoherent mess. It was like the flame was melting a part of him away, and with each utterance of her name, the heat reduced his mind into less of what it once was, breaking it down. “Khorsh”, turned into “’Osh”, which in turn became only unspeakable babble until, at last…

All was lost, and silence then reigned.

Coal Eyes presided once again from her perch on the other side of the fire, “Youth of the grass, the spirits see you now, they recognize you amongst the eternals. Your name amongst us, and all others shall be your true name: Burged Altan, The Eagle of the Crimson Dawn!” the udgan proclaimed. The yurt hollered and yelled in approval, the boy had proven himself, he was one of them, he was a man. Kuzhuk heard her judgement and could only reply with a small nod, his gaze locked onto the smoldering embers of the hearth.

At last, he had found purpose. He had found peace.

[noneedforithbruh-blog]

Meeting a CHAD

Birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and the sun is shinning upon you as you walk to pcp HQ the home of the gods who created you......then killed you.....then revived you....all because you were “not copyright friendly enough” but it doesn't matter now you have been granted a second chance in life and whats even better is that now you will be able to walk among them, talk to them, and maybe even develop genuine god to zombie relationships that may allow you to pork them wont that be very cool.

........

“ouch...” you feel a pain in you forehead.

Because you were too deep in your NSFW fantasies about the pcp members you didn't feel the passage of time or the immeasurable distance you have traveled but bumping into the giant metal wall that seems to stretch so far beyond what your eyes can see certainly woke you up.

In front of you is whats called ' THE WALL ' the thing that separates mortals from flawless gods, no one can enter the domain beyond  ' THE WALL ' because what lies on the other side of ' THE WALL ' is something far greater and much more keno than ' THE WALL ', anyhow after you finish staring at the honestly lame structure that is ' THE WALL ' you pull out your trusty mp3 player and start singing loudly and proudly along with your favorite piece of musical arts:

“Yeah

 Yeah

 Yeah

 Uh

 I'm supposed to be working right now

 I'm supposed to be working right now

 But I'm not working

 I'm doing nothing

 My dick I'm jerking

 Myself I'm sucking

 I am an asshole

 I am a stupid

 I've got a deadline

 Don't wanna do it

 [What the hell is wrong with me?]

 I'm supposed to be making money

 I'm supposed to be creating funny-

 Things that the people gladly will pay for

 Artistic genius, that's what they came for

 Instead I'm tweeting hashtag repeating

 That's why there's no weed and holes in the ceiling

 Yeah

 It's quite the burden

 It's a hard-knock life

 Being a genius”

                                                                                                                      after finishing your stellar performance and proving once again that you are the most devoted follower and the gods ultimate creation by reciting ALL the lyrics of the holy tone not just some parts from a thirty second inferior imitation,          ' THE WALL ' splits in half and reveals a path into the sky itself, as you walk along the path you start to question your looks, and revise your re-introduction speech that you have written so carefully on the back of your wanking hand you're most trusted companion, and wonder if you are truly worthy of meeting the gods themselves, but before you're brain shuts down from the anxiety you suddenly hear a voice so stoic and testosterone filled shouting “DO YOU EAT YOU'RE GREEEEEENS?” without hesitation you shout back “YES” the figure smiles and stands at the end of the road waiting for you, as you get closer you get a clearer image of the prime specimen of the concept of manhood itself its the creator of star fleet, and the biggest advocate for leaving human weaknesses like eating and sleeping behind, its Keg Stand....you mean its the Best Guy Ever your lord and savior, wearing the classiest clothes(a black toxido with a purple cape that became red from the blood of his enemies with a crown and two drills strapped to the sides of his THICCC thighs) and striking his powerful T-pose, the mere sight of him fills you with determination and fear, he is a CHAD indeed.

When you finally manage to greet him officially by dancing like a monkey missing both his arms and legs, he offers to transport you using his ' sickass ' electric skateboard to his domain and maybe have a L.A CROIX or two if his busy schedule allows it, at first you are taken back by the offer you wonder why would you're god invite you to personnel domain, is it a trick, perhaps a test to see if you are going to disrespect the gods...., or perhaps you're deepest darkest desire to pork one of the pcp members is gonna come true sooner than you expect.

......

“ouch..” you feel a sudden pain on you're left cheek

In the middle of you're day dreaming you forgot to give an answer, but luckily this firm bitch slap from god himself woke you up, (you are totally not holding back the tears.....bitch), you answer ”YES SIR” you're desire to get boned is stronger than you're fear, you attempt get on top of the skateboard but there isn't enough room, BGE says”Woah Woah, what are doing fam, get on top of M...... (you're hearth stops) Y shoulders its more efficient and not GAAAAAAAAY” he dabs, you get on top the well toned shoulders and you start flying across the sky of pcp HQ you could see forests made of weed, historic landmarks from around the world jumbled together into a single building, and the legendary lost/war torn/purple country of Lithuania,all of them existing simultaneously...somehow...?, you arrive at BGE domain a space ship, you don't get to see much of it though since as soon as it starts becoming visible you land next to a teleporter that leads directly to BGE room, after doing a mid-air flip to get off BGE you step in and get transported to the sacred mating chamber, you cant help but notice all the similar colored glasses hanging from the wall, and all the lewd drawings of anime characters, you are weirded out by the fact that even THE CHAD himself indulges in hobbies and activities that will not advance or help the gods creations, you forget about these thoughts when you hear the words “mah boi do want a glass of high quality champion”, you nod BGE grabs a bottle and tries to open it.......(5 minutes passes) the bottle is not opened yet.......(10 minutes passes) its not open yet.......(20 minutes passes) not yet.....you stand in disbelief at the sight of you're god not being able to open a champion bottle you start screaming “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” how come that god can't open a bottle, have you been lied to , are they not GODS, is this a dream?, you take the bottle from Nate's hands,smash it, and stab yourself, you bleed on the floor and as the light leaves you're eyes the last words you hear are “retard”.

THE END.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcoqR9Bwx1Y

[weirdotherapper-blog]

Diss Track - HeadShots -

I’ma take a few shots at some rap and hip-hop artist who are not

As cream of the crop; not a heart stops; you wannabe show stoppers; 

Yall just bar hop -and bump hips to hop to the top, 

So lemme get the trigger ready to take a steady shot 

-Head shot number one;

Yelawolf where the fuck did you come from; 

No one even gives a fuck about you son;

Last time you were relevant you were trying to keep up with Tech-N9ne; and Busta-Rhymes;

Now your time to be in your prime has already run outta lifelines;

Then you come and also Diss M.G.K. - I’m Sor-ray your word-play is on-lay okay 

Here comes Headshot number 2; get outta the way 

And M.G.K. you pretend to play, with words even though your cadence is 

Boring making fans snoring as you pretend you are flooring, 

Them with same repetitive nonsense, no one’s in suspense as you repeat clever sentences from a previous artist; don’t start this,

If you can’t finish it; if you ain’t really in it to win it,

Headshot number 3, I used be your biggest fan, Slim-shady sorry,

I said used to be cause honestly as of lately Eminem, 

Been wack and only attacking other artist to continue having a story, 

Marshal Matthers maybe retire and pass down the godly rap glory;

We get it Slim-Shady, Eminem, Marshal Matthers Baby, 

You got a legacy you wanna see thrive, and desperately keep alive 

The problem is you haven’t had a good album since before 2005 

Headshot Number 4; I just gotta settle a score;

Drake your trash; your fake; you’re lame; you only rake and take in 

Money and bitches after some ghost wrote the lines that got you honey and riches;

You’re not raw; you’re not tough; allow me to call you further on your bluff,

Like Jimmy Brooks ima leave you shook as I take the next shot;

You are no 50-cent, Biggie, Or Tupac; stop pretending to be something you not;

Before I give you a reason to not have your legs work; okay I gotta stop 

Head Shot Number 5, 6, and 7 - A trifecta of Music my friend,

Kanye, Dr.Dre, and Jay-Z, can yall just stick making beats, Please?

Kanye you’re already clinically insane believing your Gods gift to us, okay right 

Call me an Indian giver cause get that shit outta my sight, 

God can take back this quack crack-pot gift and lift this curse, 

before I gotta spit another diverse verse so go disburse,

Please just leave and take your barely passable rap skills

At least Dr.Dre has flow and always goes for his kills 

But lets be honest without Slim-Shady coat-tails your ship probably would’ve already set sails 

Jay-Z I respect you freestyle essentially everything,

But could you be a little more interesting?I 

I know your pussy whipped but does Beyonce gotta be slipped into everything, bad enough the illuminati already gotcha nuts gripped, 

I’m just saying I hate when artists step out of there element just to revel in idea of being relevant, 

Speaking of irrelevant relevance 

Headshot number 8 and 9; I don’t give fuck that they are both hella fine,

Kardi-B and Nicki-ménage à trois - we know how yall got ya jobs  

Yall an insult to what women truly represent, saying you are supposed feminist; 

When your words are socially venomous; pretending to be Mean pristine Queens -Mirror Mirror on the wall?

Who is the sluttiest of them all?

That’s a tough question; maybe make more investments in your talent then;

Then your fake asses and barely passes for music my cum-swallowing friends -

Headshot Number 10, this motherfucker doesn’t know if he’s gonna go to hell or heaven,

Marcus Hopsin, you are talented; you can sing, and rip bars and minds apart;c

Cause we get it your fucking smart; being a psychology major I find,

when I see an Ill mind I gotta pull that brain apart;

Your close-minded to what others believe, and even say multiple times weed is the Devil; please, 

Maybe you need to take a few tokes and relax and come to our Level; Marcus see -

you’re becoming Narcissistic, egotistic; eccentric and malevolent  

when you used to be so sentient, and relevant it’s evident you’ve become nothing but bullshit and sediment, 

it fills me with resentment cause at one point I respected your intellect,

Always comparing your cerebral flare to others as though we are mentally bare.

minimal broken individuals, with residual visuals working for subliminal criminals.

when you’re the one becoming a dark individual with critical criticisms becoming catatonic and chaotic, 

a cataclysm of schisms risen out of insecure idioms into introverted introspective Imprisonment, 

Ignorant to inner interference ironically inseminating itself with Ignorance, inevitable isolated intelligence incarnates into immoral idiotic indulgence, 

But honestly,

fuck what I think though speaking relatively, it’s all irrelevant in a universe intertwined in infinite immeasurable possibility,

but seriously though, can we like, stop being so childish and petty? 

[videoreligion]

The Amazing Transplant (1970)

“As I grow older, slower and more lame with each passing 24 hours, it's easy for me to fall into the grasp of negativity when it comes to my place in the world. The presented status quo would seem to indicate that, at this point in my human experience, I should be at least nearly secure in my purpose. It would seem any normal person my age would be in arms lengths of some kind of life goal, if not already enjoying the fruits of their labor. As far as I can tell, from TV, etc, at this point, I have outgrown the requisites of the late bloomer and have entered a classification more easily labeled “lost cause”. I mean I have always had a job but never a career, and I still hold tight to “goals” that seemed already unrealistic at the start of my twenties. So I am I just fucked? Is higher ambition a game contained to the same age groups as 90s video DJs and the majority of female film roles? I don't really know, but It can make me pretty fucking nervous. It's during these darkened moments of doubt that I can look towards The Patron Saint of Irrepressible Aspirations, Doris Wishman, for inspiration.

In 1958 a newly widowed, 46-year-old Wishman decided making films would be the best way to take her mind off of the recent loss. Inspired by a loophole in New York law that allowed for nudity in cinema and her time spent working for her cousin Max Rosenberg’s film company (in “distribution”), she borrowed some cash (by her account $10,000) from her sister and went about making a “nudist” film. Without any training, and taking up most of the production roles herself, she made eight of these films between 1958 and 1964. As interest in the genre shifted, she too evolved, shifting to various more popular exploitation style films along the way, making a slasher, some porn and even trying comedy. She continued to make films aperiodically until her death in 2002. She gave the world around thirty trashy, sleazy flicks during her time in the business, and her presence can still be felt in low budget filmmaking, as well as some in some more well-known works. If there is some kind of age limit on career choices, it didn't fucking stop her. In fact, she seemed to break every rule she was privy to. She barged her way into a male-focused area of a drastically male-dominated field (not only filmmaking but “male interested” filmmaking in the 50s), doing most of the work on each film herself to avoid the industries patent bullshit. By all accounts, she was the eccentric opposition to the era’s current business climate. There are none of the common schlock filmmaker horror stories of angered/shorted associates or her being overly demanding of her skeleton crew. Any production work she was forced to outsource, was paid for, in full, at the end of the day. She apparently was always courteous to those she worked with, if not a little wearing due to her eccentric personality. The films she made exist in a peculiar place between cashing in on trends and having way to much fun making a movie to care what it looked like, never really falling too far to either side. She was truly unbound by any taboo regarding what she should have been doing or when she should be have been doing it. She is a testament to just not giving a fuck about what other people think, and just going for it. With around thirty grimy, sleazy or trashtastic flicks to her name(s), she has secured a place among the greats and has left behind immeasurable influence. To better illustrate, I want to talk about one of her films that has grown to become my favorite recently, The Amazing Transplant (1970)...” - RevTerry

Read the Full Review

[unbreakmyharlem]

"The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro," by Frederick Douglass.

Fellow Citizens, I am not wanting in respect for the fathers of this republic. The signers of the Declaration of Independence were brave men. They were great men, too great enough to give frame to a great age. It does not often happen to a nation to raise, at one time, such a number of truly great men. The point from which I am compelled to view them is not, certainly, the most favorable; and yet I cannot contemplate their great deeds with less than admiration. They were statesmen, patriots and heroes, and for the good they did, and the principles they contended for, I will unite with you to honor their memory....

...Fellow-citizens, pardon me, allow me to ask, why am I called upon to speak here to-day? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us?

Would to God, both for your sakes and ours, that an affirmative answer could be truthfully returned to these questions! Then would my task be light, and my burden easy and delightful. For who is there so cold, that a nation's sympathy could not warm him? Who so obdurate and dead to the claims of gratitude, that would not thankfully acknowledge such priceless benefits? Who so stolid and selfish, that would not give his voice to swell the hallelujahs of a nation's jubilee, when the chains of servitude had been torn from his limbs? I am not that man. In a case like that, the dumb might eloquently speak, and the "lame man leap as an hart."

But such is not the state of the case. I say it with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day? If so, there is a parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you that it is dangerous to copy the example of a nation whose crimes, towering up to heaven, were thrown down by the breath of the Almighty, burying that nation in irrevocable ruin! I can to-day take up the plaintive lament of a peeled and woe-smitten people!

"By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yea! we wept when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there, they that carried us away captive, required of us a song; and they who wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How can we sing the Lord's song in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth."

Fellow-citizens, above your national, tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions! whose chains, heavy and grievous yesterday, are, to-day, rendered more intolerable by the jubilee shouts that reach them. If I do forget, if I do not faithfully remember those bleeding children of sorrow this day, "may my right hand forget her cunning, and may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!" To forget them, to pass lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme, would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a reproach before God and the world. My subject, then, fellow-citizens, is American slavery. I shall see this day and its popular characteristics from the slave's point of view. Standing there identified with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this 4th of July! Whether we turn to the declarations of the past, or to the professions of the present, the conduct of the nation seems equally hideous and revolting. America.is false to the past, false to the present, and solemnly binds herself to be false to the future. Standing with God and the crushed and bleeding slave on this occasion, I will, in the name of humanity which is outraged, in the name of liberty which is fettered, in the name of the constitution and the Bible which are disregarded and trampled upon, dare to call in question and to denounce, with all the emphasis I can command, everything that serves to perpetuate slavery  the great sin and shame of America! "I will not equivocate; I will not excuse"; I will use the severest language I can command; and yet not one word shall escape me that any man, whose judgment is not blinded by prejudice, or who is not at heart a slaveholder, shall not confess to be right and just.

But I fancy I hear some one of my audience say, "It is just in this circumstance that you and your brother abolitionists fail to make a favorable impression on the public mind. Would you argue more, an denounce less; would you persuade more, and rebuke less; your cause would be much more likely to succeed." But, I submit, where all is plain there is nothing to be argued. What point in the anti-slavery creed would you have me argue? On what branch of the subject do the people of this country need light? Must I undertake to prove that the slave is a man? That point is conceded already. Nobody doubts it. The slaveholders themselves acknowledge it in the enactment of laws for their government. They acknowledge it when they punish disobedience on the part of the slave. There are seventy-two crimes in the State of Virginia which, if committed by a black man (no matter how ignorant he be), subject him to the punishment of death; while only two of the same crimes will subject a white man to the like punishment. What is this but the acknowledgment that the slave is a moral, intellectual, and responsible being? The manhood of the slave is conceded. It is admitted in the fact that Southern statute books are covered with enactments forbidding, under severe fines and penalties, the teaching of the slave to read or to write. When you can point to any such laws in reference to the beasts of the field, then I may consent to argue the manhood of the slave. When the dogs in your streets, when the fowls of the air, when the cattle on your hills, when the fish of the sea, and the reptiles that crawl, shall be unable to distinguish the slave from a brute, then will I argue with you that the slave is a man!

For the present, it is enough to affirm the equal manhood of the Negro race. Is it not astonishing that, while we are ploughing, planting, and reaping, using all kinds of mechanical tools, erecting houses, constructing bridges, building ships, working in metals of brass, iron, copper, silver and gold; that, while we are reading, writing and ciphering, acting as clerks, merchants and secretaries, having among us lawyers, doctors, ministers, poets, authors, editors, orators and teachers; that, while we are engaged in all manner of enterprises common to other men, digging gold in California, capturing the whale in the Pacific, feeding sheep and cattle on the hill-side, living, moving, acting, thinking, planning, living in families as husbands, wives and children, and, above all, confessing and worshipping the Christian's God, and looking hopefully for life and immortality beyond the grave, we are called upon to prove that we are men!

Would you have me argue that man is entitled to liberty? that he is the rightful owner of his own body? You have already declared it. Must I argue the wrongfulness of slavery? Is that a question for Republicans? Is it to be settled by the rules of logic and argumentation, as a matter beset with great difficulty, involving a doubtful application of the principle of justice, hard to be understood? How should I look to-day, in the presence of Amercans, dividing, and subdividing a discourse, to show that men have a natural right to freedom? speaking of it relatively and positively, negatively and affirmatively. To do so, would be to make myself ridiculous, and to offer an insult to your understanding. There is not a man beneath the canopy of heaven that does not know that slavery is wrong for him.

What, am I to argue that it is wrong to make men brutes, to rob them of their liberty, to work them without wages, to keep them ignorant of their relations to their fellow men, to beat them with sticks, to flay their flesh with the lash, to load their limbs with irons, to hunt them with dogs, to sell them at auction, to sunder their families, to knock out their teeth, to burn their flesh, to starve them into obedience and submission to their mastcrs? Must I argue that a system thus marked with blood, and stained with pollution, is wrong? No! I will not. I have better employment for my time and strength than such arguments would imply.

What, then, remains to be argued? Is it that slavery is not divine; that God did not establish it; that our doctors of divinity are mistaken? There is blasphemy in the thought. That which is inhuman, cannot be divine! Who can reason on such a proposition? They that can, may; I cannot. The time for such argument is passed.

At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed. O! had I the ability, and could reach the nation's ear, I would, to-day, pour out a fiery stream of biting ridicule, blasting reproach, withering sarcasm, and stern rebuke. For it is not light that is needed, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake. The feeling of the nation must be quickened; the conscience of the nation must be roused; the propriety of the nation must be startled; the hypocrisy of the nation must be exposed; and its crimes against God and man must be proclaimed and denounced.

What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy -- a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages.There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.

Go where you may, search where you will, roam through all the monarchies and despotisms of the Old World, travel through South America, search out every abuse, and when you have found the last, lay your facts by the side of the everyday practices of this nation, and you will say with me, that, for revolting barbarity and shameless hypocrisy, America reigns without a rival....

...Allow me to say, in conclusion, notwithstanding the dark picture I have this day presented, of the state of the nation, I do not despair of this country. There are forces in operation which must inevitably work the downfall of slavery. "The arm of the Lord is not shortened," and the doom of slavery is certain. I, therefore, leave off where I began, with hope. While drawing encouragement from "the Declaration of Independence," the great principles it contains, and the genius of American Institutions, my spirit is also cheered by the obvious tendencies of the age. Nations do not now stand in the same relation to each other that they did ages ago. No nation can now shut itself up from the surrounding world and trot round in the same old path of its fathers without interference. The time was when such could be done. Long established customs of hurtful character could formerly fence themselves in, and do their evil work with social impunity. Knowledge was then confined and enjoyed by the privileged few, and the multitude walked on in mental darkness. But a change has now come over the affairs of mankind. Walled cities and empires have become unfashionable. The arm of commerce has borne away the gates of the strong city. Intelligence is penetrating the darkest corners of the globe. It makes its pathway over and under the sea, as well as on the earth. Wind, steam, and lightning are its chartered agents. Oceans no longer divide, but link nations together. From Boston to London is now a holiday excursion. Space is comparatively annihilated. -- Thoughts expressed on one side of the Atlantic are distinctly heard on the other.

The far off and almost fabulous Pacific rolls in grandeur at our feet. The Celestial Empire, the mystery of ages, is being solved. The fiat of the Almighty, "Let there be Light," has not yet spent its force. No abuse, no outrage whether in taste, sport or avarice, can now hide itself from the all-pervading light. The iron shoe, and crippled foot of China must be seen in contrast with nature. Africa must rise and put on her yet unwoven garment. 'Ethiopia, shall, stretch. out her hand unto Ood." In the fervent aspirations of William Lloyd Garrison, I say, and let every heart join in saying it:

God speed the year of jubilee The wide world o'er! When from their galling chains set free, Th' oppress'd shall vilely bend the knee, And wear the yoke of tyranny Like brutes no more. That year will come, and freedom's reign, To man his plundered rights again Restore.

God speed the day when human blood Shall cease to flow! In every clime be understood, The claims of human brotherhood, And each return for evil, good, Not blow for blow; That day will come all feuds to end, And change into a faithful friend Each foe.

God speed the hour, the glorious hour, When none on earth Shall exercise a lordly power, Nor in a tyrant's presence cower; But to all manhood's stature tower, By equal birth! That hour will come, to each, to all, And from his Prison-house, to thrall Go forth.

Until that year, day, hour, arrive, With head, and heart, and hand I'll strive, To break the rod, and rend the gyve, The spoiler of his prey deprive -- So witness Heaven! And never from my chosen post, Whate'er the peril or the cost, Be driven.

[stainedinlavenderblood]

Hollow - Short Story

i just remembered i had a storytime tag where i posted short stories so im going to be posting like 4 of those. enjoy

This world is empty. There’s little for me to write here, so expect nothing but filler. I am writing this entry in my diary during what is possibly the end of the world. We went down not with a bang, but with a long malcontented sigh. My name is… my name was… well, I can’t remember, since that’s been taken from me too. Everything this world once had was taken. I don’t even know why I’m still alive, but I feel myself obligated to record this. Maybe that’s my final purpose here in this life.

I don’t remember when it began, but sometime back the world started to lose color. It started off small, and hardly anybody noticed. The first symptom was the rise of depression. Those who became afflicted with this mental disease were enlightened to the colorlessness of the world that others could not see. They felt a compulsion to talk about it, to relay to others how empty and meaningless everything now was to them. Through this, their infection spread. It was the most contagious disease known to man, spread through simple words alone. Some were more resilient than others, but more and more fell into deep depressions and spread their pessimistic ideologies to others, infecting them as well.

As the number of depressed people increased in the world, those who weren’t yet affected and those who had the power and money to do so, began to take advantage of society. Cruelty and greed the likes of which have never been seen before on Earth, a lack of empathy so huge it was almost unbelievable. And the world, depressed as it was, sat by and watched as the select few destroyed it from the inside out.

Pollution, oil spills, food wasting, racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, the war on homelessness, the war on drugs, the increasing wage gap, the inflation of prices, the greed, the hunger, the insatiable desire for money no matter the cost, even at the expense of countless human lives. These were a portion of the many things that led our world to ruin. The rich and the powerful bred nothing but hate and hate turned into money. The irrational anger of the masses was taken advantage of and  converted directly into coin.

The extent at which humans destroyed the world as they knew it is immeasurable. Over the decades, society crumbled and everyone became a slave of their own akilter moral codes. The people religiously worshipped the government and the country they lived in and malevolently maladapted the religions which had been followed for centuries before.

No progress was made in these dark times, and they became a second Dark Ages, by every definition. The only things that were done were things that were considered profitable. If it didn’t turn a profit, or if it limited the profit produced by other things, no matter how harmful they were, it wasn’t done. Science was rejected by society and the few who believed in it grew increasingly outnumbered by the ignorant masses who were comfortable losing themselves in their own delusions, dissuading all rational explanation.

When society had finally crumbled as far as it could go, the physical world began to lose its inherent properties, as a direct result of their own meaninglessness. Every human on Earth woke up one morning to find that the world was devoid of color, nothing but shades of black and white, and no one was surprised. The next thing to go was positive emotions. It became impossible to be happy or excited, even a little bit. No more warm fuzzy feelings, no more joyful summer days, no more youthful excitement. The world became just as bleak as its inhabitants had believed for many years beforehand.

The next things to be taken from us were fundamental senses, anything that gave our bodies and minds stimulus. Hearing was lost, and now no sounds could be perceived. The sound of a lover’s voice vanished from existence. Not as though it mattered, because even if someone had heard it, they wouldn’t get the same feeling of enrapturement and joy as they would have in the old days. Then, our sense of touch was taken. We could no longer feel anything physically, no matter how soft, how sharp, how hot, or how cold. Then we lost our senses of taste and smell. Food, the last joy on Earth for many people, became unenjoyable. The world became more bleak than anyone could have ever imagined. If they were capable, people would have started to panic, to question “Why? What’s going on?” and to think to themselves “I knew the world was empty, but I never thought it could be this empty!”

It’s a classic mistake of the human mind to underestimate just how bad it can get. Perhaps that’s the reason why this disaster was allowed to unfold. Nobody did anything about it because they (ir)rationalized with themselves that it wasn’t as bad as everyone said it was and that the situation would take care of itself in time. That self reassurance, that enabler of inaction, the terrible curse of procrastination; it was our undoing.

The final thing to be taken from mankind was ourselves. And no, I don’t mean that we died, because how would I be writing this then? No, what I imply is something far more terrible. The loss of self. The loss of individuality, of personality. Everyone became a mindless cardboard cutout, a reflection of everyone else without depth or intrigue. But if the person who was first reflected was empty too, then that means that everyone was completely and utterly void. The world and its people were now as empty as they could ever be.

And now, here we are, at the end of it all. The final breath of Mother Earth was expressed as the longest sigh in history, followed by a curling into the fetal position and a lack of movement. A resignation to stay there, floating empty and meaningless through the great wide universe.

I wonder if there’s anything else out there that may find us one day, and ask themselves “What happened here?” Believing in aliens is just about the only hope I have left. It would be a right shame if Earth housed the only life in the universe, and it had just died so anticlimactically. Billions of years of evolution, all leading up to what?

The hope that life will continue elsewhere in the universe was probably the only thing that inspired me to write this entry in my journal, a play-by-play commentary on the end of the world. I don’t even know if they’ll be able to understand English, but hey, they can probably translate it eventually, right? It’d just be lame if they couldn’t.

And so I leave my final message to whoever may come across this journal and the desolate planet it was written on. Do not make our mistakes. If the disease of depression, categorized by chronic sadness, a bored outlook on life, an incurable jadedness, and a belief that the universe is devoid of meaning, ever shows up on your planet, you must take what steps you can to eradicate it immediately.

Do not allow compassion to die. Do not allow empathy to die. Do not allow greed and hunger to overcome you. Do not allow the suffering of countless millions to come to your people for naught but the gain of material possession.

No matter what hardships come your way don’t allow anyone to convince you that this is the end; there is always a second chance, unless you never take your first. Fill your life with happiness and create what purpose you can find for yourselves, since no divine purpose will ever be given to you. Don’t allow the universe to truly lose its meaning.

Fight on.

- The last man on Earth.