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vikingqueer · 3 years

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music recommendations because i have some thoughts™

i don't wanna be that person who's like "my music taste is so weird lol" but i find that very often most of my friends don't really care for the music i like so i thought i'd just make a long ass post about it on tumblr instead. Fair warning, I'm very passionate about MIKA and The Mechanisms and so this very quickly got VERY long because it is part of my ongoing campaign to convince people to listen to mika and the mechs.

1) MIKA in general, but especially My Name Is Michael Holbrook (2019) and No Place In Heaven (2015) (especially the Deluxe version!!)

MIKA is a kind of British singer (half Lebanese, grew up in France blabla), and you probably know him for Grace Kelly and Relax, Take It Easy from his first album Life In Cartoon Motion from 2007. He writes a lot of FUN music, interspersed with the occasional slightly sadder song, especially when looking at an album like No Place In Heaven, which contains a lot of songs with gay themes, resulting in some songs that are just a little bit ouch. He's originally classically trained and has a frankly RIDICULOUS range and idk he just writes very good pop music. Also I have so much respect for that time he talked about how a lot of pop is very fake, with like expensive cars and stilettos and mini skirts in the snow and said "Because I walk down the street, and I don't see any of that. I see fat women and gay men. I don't know... That's real". He's written 5 albums; My Name Is Michael Holbrook (2019), No Place In Heaven (2015), The Origin Of Love (2012), The Boy Who Knew Too Much (2009), and Life In Cartoon Motion (2007).

For starters, I recommend listening to Last Party, Origin Of Love, Grace Kelly, Blame It On The Girls, Blue, Happy Ending, Pick Up Off The Floor, Last Party, Underwater, Tomorrow and Tiny Love (yes this is a long list but i REALLY love MIKA). If you want a slightly broader palette that's not just my favourites, I recommend the Mika starter pack on spotify.

2) The Mechanisms. I warn you. I am making this a thing. I have been obsessed with the mechs since last march.

Boy, where to start? The Mechanisms were a British 9 member space pirate story-telling cabaret that "died" in January 2020. They rewrite songs to fit retellings of various stories. I don't even know what genre I'd describe them as, but probably folk but steam-punk?? Their 4 "main" albums are concept albums, and I honestly just recommend listening to the from beginning to end in chronological order. A good way to get into the mechs is also to listen to UDAD and then watching the live show on youtube or alternately try giving Death To The Mechanisms a listen, to get good quality live show audio of TBI and various other stuff. Also, it was streamed on YouTube and someone combined the footage with the album audio and it rocks. Really, I think the mechs' best selling points are honestly just their concept albums:

Once Upon a Time (In Space) Their first album from 2012. I'd say this is the most "easily digestible" for the general public, since it's a retelling of various fairytales. So, what if Old King Cole was in fact not merry, but rather a cold-blooded dictator, intent on colonising as much of the galaxy as possible. What if Snow White was a general, looking to avenge what King Cole did to her sister, Rose. What if Cinderella was to be wedded to Rose the day that King Cole attacked in order to kidnap Rose? But y'know, In Space and also like every other mechs album it's a beautiful tragedy. Fave songs are Old King Cole, Pump Shanty, and No Happy Ending.

Ulysses Dies at Dawn You guessed it, it's a story about Odysseus, or Ulysses because I guess Ulysses is easier to rhyme or fit in the meter or something, idk. Ulysses is a war hero of unknown gender who is said to keep something that could take down the corrupt Olympians, meanest families in the City, in a vault to which only they know the passcode. Oedipus, Heracles, Orpheus, and Ariadne have been hired by Hades, who happens to be The Mechs' quartermaster Ashes O'Reilly, to get into Ulysses' vault. I didn't care much for udad at first, but honestly it's got some real bangers and the story is really good. UDAD weirdly stands out as the only of the concept albums to not feature any gay relationships, per se. Fave songs are Riddle of the Sphinx, Favoured Son, and Underworld Blues.

High Noon over Camelot This is my favourite mehcs album. So basically, this is Arthurian legend, but it's a space western and Jonny D'Ville does a bad southern accent. This is the story of the cowboy lovers Arther, Lancelot, and Guinevere searching for the Galfridian Restricted Acces Interface Login, or GRAIL, in order to stop their world from falling into the sun. Meanwhile, Mordred and Gawaine are ruling Camelot, and Mordred has convinced Gawaine to try to establish peace with the Saxons by whom Mordred was raised, but Gawaine hates viciously. If you love getting your heart broken and songs by a fucking off the rails batshit preacher I HIGHLY recommend hnoc. Fave songs are Gunfight at the Dolorous Guard, Blood and Whiskey, and Once and Future King. Honorary mention for Hellfire because it awakens something animalistic in me.

The Bifrost Incident TBI is the frankly only good adaptation of norse mythology I've ever known of, and I say that as Dane who was literally forced to learn things about norse mythology in school because it's my heritage or whatever. I've been listening to TBI a lot lately because it's VERY good. It's definitely the most refined of the mechs' albums (because it's the newest) but also I just love a little bit of cosmic horror. 80 years ago, Odin, the All-Mother, ruler of Asgaard, launched a train through the wormhole Bifrost that would reduce the travel between Asgaard and Midgaard from 3 months to 3 days, but things didn't go quite as planned. Lyfrassir Edda of the New Midgaard Transport Police is trying to solve the case of why suddenly the train has arrived 80 years late; to figure out whether it was accident or maybe it was sabotaged by Loki, who was allegedly sentence to death her murder of Baldur, by the Midgaardian resistance led by Loki's wife Sigyn, or maybe by Thor, who was to take over after Odin, and who holds quite the grudge because he used to be a friend of Loki's. You might've heard the song Thor from this album, it's apparently quite popular. Fave songs are Loki, Ragnarok III: Strange Meeting, and Ragnarok V: End of The Line. Yet again an honorary mention: Red Signal because while Lovecraft was a bitch, his invocations are fucking RAW.

Basically, the Mechanisms do all of their performances in character as captain first mate Jonny D'Ville, quartermaster Ashes O'Reilly, pilot DrumBot Brian, master-at-arms Gunpowder Tim, science officer Raphaella la Cognizi, doctor Baron Marius Von Raum (neither a baron, nor a doctor), archivist Ivy Alexandria, engineer Nastya Rasputina, and The Toy Soldier, who is, as usual, present. You can find very obscure lore about the crew of the Aurora here, tidbits on Tales To Be Told and TTBT Vol. 2, such as One Eyed Jacks, The Ignominious Demise of Dr. Pilchard, Gunpowder Tim vs. The Moon Kaiser, Lucky Sevens, and Lost in the Cosmos.

If you feel like listening to a full 40-50 minute album to find out if you like a band is a bit much, I recommend listening to one of the mini stories Alice, Swan Song, or Frankenstein, which are about 12, 5 and 9:30 minutes respectively.

3) The Amazing Devil You know that guy who played Jaskier in the Witcher? I got into The Amazing Devil from spotify recommending them because I listened to the mechs, and apparently Joey Batey from The Amazing Devil is the same Joey Batey who was in the Witcher. Both him and Madeleine Hyland are VERY talented singers and songwriters and their second album The Horror and the Wild makes me go out into the forest and SCREAM. I listened to it on repeat for like a month straight. I guess they'd also be considered folk, but like. New Folk. Also yes, this is another British artist, I don't know why I'm like this. I've never really gotten that into their first album, Love Run, but King slaps. As I understand there's this whole lore about the Blue Furious Boy and Scarlet Scarlet, Joey and Madeleine respectively, but unlike the Mechanisms it's actually possible to find out things about the actual real people and harder to find the obscure lore? I'm open for people to please help me. Fave songs are The Horror and the Wild, Farewell Wanderlust, and That Unwanted Animal, which is literally a third of their second album, but again. I haven't really listened to Love Run that much, and I just LOVE the harmonies on THATW. (also im gay and dramatic leave me alone)

4) dodie I have so much love for this woman. Like many others, I first knew dodie as doddleoddle on youtube. I think I first stumbled across her in probably 2015, because I distinctly already knew her before she released her first EP Sick of Losing Soulmates in 2016. I think I watched probably every video she's ever made in the span of a few weeks. I just loved her quiet sound and was absolutely HOOKED. Also she's actually the reason I got into MIKA originally, so thanks for that. Dodie just realeased her first album Build A Problem (in addition to her three EP's; the one mentioned above, You, and Human) and it slaps. Yes dodie is also British Fave songs are probably Monster, Rainbow, and In The Middle.

5) Cladia Boleyn Unfortunately, Claudia Boleyn only has three singles and that's it. She's been making content on youtube for quite a while, and that's how I first discovered her. I don't know what genre her music is, but I like it. The songs are Celesta, George, and Mother Maiden Crone, of which the latter is my favourite. I'm not saying Claudia Boleyn invented women in 2017 when she released Mother Maiden Crone, but she did. Also you guessed it, Claudia Boleyn is British.

6) Hozier I'm not about to tell you about Hozier. You know who he is. Listen to Nina Cried Power, Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene, and Shrike. Also Hozier isn't stricly British in that he is definitely from A British Isle, but Ireland is not part of the UK. Give me a break.

7) Oh Land Oh Land IS DANISH. I like her early music best, because I'm not that into the electronic sound. I guess Oh Land is just you regular old pop, but with the occasional weird vibe? Oddly enough, I like her first album Fauna best. Unfortunately I haven't really listened to her newest album Family Tree much, but it seems good? Fave songs are Frostbite, Love You Better and Family Tree. I cried on the bus, first time I listened to the Danish version of Love You Better, Elsker Dig Mer because my mother tongue always just hits harder. Also Frostbite is Oh Land doing a duet with herself which is pretty cool.

8) Oysterband This is a live recommendation. I mean they're a decent folk band and all, but they're a fucking experience live. If you like folk and you ever get the opportunity to see Oysterband live, do it. Unfortunately, yes. They are British. Either way, they are incredible on a scene and I think they deserve a mention for that.

9) Ben Platt Honestly don't know much about this guy, but he's not British and he was in Dear Evan Hansen. He released an album in 2019, Sing To Me Instead, and I just think it's a good album, there isn't really not much more to it. Fave songs are Grow As We Go, Bad Habit, and In Case You Don't Live Forever.

and thats all for now. this has been a ramble. shout out to you if you actually read all of this, especially the mechs part.

#music stuff #amalie.txt #music recommendations #mika #the mechanisms #the amazing devil #dodie #claudia boleyn #hozier #oh land #oysterband #ben platt

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solomonish · 4 years

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From the Mouths of Fools

Belphegor has a habit of forcing his brothers into trouble, mostly with you. There’s nothing more satisfying than the look of horror on their face when they think they must have dashed their chances with you and that they’re digging the hole deeper. Each time, you reach out a hand and ease their worries, and Belphegor’s stomach twists as you tell them with kind eyes not to worry, that they’re very sweet. Why did you have to be such a spoilsport?

(also posted on ao3 @ treetunkdaddy)

Poems: A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns, I Carry Your Heart With Me by E. E. Cummings, I Love You by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda

Leviathan: I love you. Leviathan: I love you more than anyone else in this world. You: Thanks! Leviathan: Happy now? Leviathan: As I thought, this was the right thing to say.

You stared at your phone screen for a moment longer with one eyebrow raised. Something here wasn’t right. Though you weren’t some grand detective, you could tell that the texts didn’t sound like Levi at all Even beyond the sudden boldness, if you pictured Levi texting those messages you could only imagine him with a rain cloud over his head as he hunched over his phone in sorrow. The somber tone didn’t match his usual excitement. Maybe he was trying to get into character for some sort of cosplay…? Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to figure out if he had mentioned getting into character for something. Still, there was no way he wouldn’t know all the lines of a character he was trying to embody, and it seemed far-fetched that he’d choose something so...overt, let alone practice it with you.

Before you could distract yourself too much from the tasks you were supposed to be working on, a solid oof a few feet away from your door caught your attention. You could just barely hear a half-hearted grumble barely covering the low boyish giggles of a scheming Belphegor as Levi freaked out in a jumble of words that sounded more like a keysmash than an argument. A moment later, you got another slew of texts that seemed much more like the demon you knew.

Leviathan: AAAEWAGVNAFBPEABD Leviathan: WAAAAAIT! Leviathan: I take that back! Leviathan: AARGH, no, that’s not what I meant! Leviathan: I left my D.D.D. on the couch and Belphie ran off with it!

Ah. That made sense. It also explained the nervous energy you could practically feel radiating from where the two demons undoubtedly still lay in a heap. With a devious look on your face, you tapped away at your phone.

You: I took a screenshot of it!

You were right about one of them being outside your door. You could hear Levi’s startled yelp, followed shortly by frantic footsteps running down the hall to his door. The three dots danced on your screen as the sound got quieter, the message reaching you just as the door to Levi’s room slammed shut.

Leviathan: No, you can’t! Delete that ASAP! DELETEIIIITTTTT!

Snickering to yourself, you hefted yourself out of your seat and opened your door to peer out into the hallway. A little ways to your left, Belphie lay sprawled out on the carpet with a half-dazed expression on his face. Taking care to keep your footsteps quiet in case he actually was asleep, you bent over his face to look at his half-lidded eyes. After a moment of shifting into focus, Belphie gave you a lazy smile and patted the floor next to him.

“You should join me,” He offered. “The carpet is surprisingly soft.”

“Yeah, and surprisingly dirty,” You added, gently toeing at his shoulder as if that would spur him to move.

“If you stare at the pattern on the ceiling and let your eyes get unfocused, it’s real easy to fall asleep,” He suggested. You turned your head to look at the ceiling, seeing nothing but a boring, dark texture above you. If you squinted, you could almost make out swirls in the paint. Maybe demons had a better time seeing details in the dark.

Beneath you, Belphie hummed contentedly, folding his hands at his stomach. He almost looked like he was sunbathing in a meadow, surrounded by fragrant flowers - the image made your heart jump the slightest bit. Maybe, if that was the case, you would have joined him. Lying next to him as a gentle breeze danced over your skin and the tall grass kissed your skin...that didn’t seem like a bad way to spend an afternoon.

“Hey,” Belphie asked suddenly, holding you in a serious stare. It was one he didn’t bother to give you often, saving it only for when you trespassed him so greatly he needed to make it known (more often than not when he told you how lame Lucifer was if you mentioned how he’s helped you with some administrative details for the exchange program). “What did you feel when Levi sent you that message?”

“What?” You asked, shaken by the jarring change in his voice. He sounded much more stern, and though it was hard to tell while looking at him upside down, you were pretty sure he was holding you in a glare, albeit a very gentle one.

“Did it make you happy?” He asked. “That he might love you?”

Your face flushed at the personal question and you averted your gaze, missing the way Belphie’s gaze hardened at your reaction. “I-I knew they weren’t from Levi,” You answered, shaking your head and looking back at Belphie. “They sounded way too suave for him. I thought maybe he was playing a character, or something. I didn’t think they meant anything.”

“You thought they didn’t mean anything…” Nodding, Belphie’s mouth twisted in thought as he looked just past your shoulder blankly. Suddenly his arms shot up and he grabbed at the air a few times, shutting off any gateway to questions you might have. “Help me up. I wanna nap somewhere softer than this where I won’t get trampled.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned the idea of leaving him there around once before shifting to his side and pulling him up. He took the chance to stumble into you, jamming his chin into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck. Instead of feeling his breath tickle your skin, however, you felt his hair brush against you as he adjusted, eventually stopping once he was satisfied. You realized for a moment he was listening for your pulse, and your breathing shallowed on instinct, as if you wanted him to hear it. He didn’t tell you what he was listening for, only groaning when you started to ask him to let go so you could resume your day.

“Mmmm….maybe I should nap here? So comfy….” He murmured. Though he made no move to let go, he also didn’t fight you when you finally separated him from your body. Giving him a farewell smile, you turned your back to leave, not seeing his face fall in displeasure.

---

A few days later, there was a book on your bed that you were positive wasn’t there when you left that morning.

Dropping your backpack unceremoniously by your door, you peered at the worn cover to see it was an old collection of romantic poems. There was no suspicious Latin on the cover, now jewels (or missing jewels) to indicate it was a spellbook or otherwise enchanted, so you picked it up. Upon closer inspection, you saw it was a collection of human poems, many of which you read in your early school days. There were a few multicolored tabs stuck in it, no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Though it looked to be Satan’s book, you couldn’t imagine him risking getting adhesive on the worn pages. Curious, you flipped to the first marked page and scanned it, face flushing almost immediately.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune.

Flipping to the next marked page, your face turned an even deeper red as they scanned the page.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

Each page you turned to gave you smooth velvet words that someone very clearly wanted to direct at you, each getting more intimate than the last. Every poem you read sent more blush to your face until you were positive another word would have you passing out.

I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my face.

Honeyed words of Shakespeare and Dickinson forced your heart to pump faster in your chest than you ever thought possible. Though your body really did feel like it might collapse under the affection the poems held, you couldn’t stop yourself from flipping through. Even though it was clear these poems weren’t written for you, the slightest implication that someone could think so highly of you had your head spinning. Before long, you were skimming the last marked page, barely able to catch your breath.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

A loud roar of Belphegor’s name shook you out of your love-stricken trance. Slamming the book shut as if you’d been caught doing something wrong, you listened to the hasty, angry footsteps of Satan right outside your door. The closer he got, you could hear his heavy breathing as he fought to contain his anger. “Where is that book? I know you were the last person in my room!”

Though the thought of being on the receiving end of Satan’s anger was enough to send you running, you slowly cracked open your door and peered out. Satan immediately whipped his head around to look at you, softening just a bit in an effort to let you know that you weren’t what he was after.

In a timid voice, you asked, “Which book would you happen to be looking for?”

“It was a collection of poems. You wouldn’t have happened to see it, would you?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door all the way and held the book out to him. Snatching it out of your hands, Satan widened his eyes at the tabs. “Did you-”

“It was like that!” You defended. Satan realized you were jumpy and slowly inhaled, willing himself to calm down before you continued. “It was on my bed when I came home.”

With a gruff hum, Satan nodded at your explanation before flipping through the marked pages. “It’s alright, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. I’m positive Belphie was the one who took it since he was-”

Stopping mid-sentence, Satan flushed a deep red once he read which poems were marked to be read. “O-oh,” He murmured, pulling at his sweater collar and clearing his throat. “This is...these are pretty romantic, huh?”

“Well, it is a love poem collection,” You offered helpfully with a shrug. As if he didn’t believe you, Satan looked at the cover himself.

“I hope you didn’t mistake my intent. I didn’t mean for this book to end up in your care.”

“Ouch,” You hissed through your teeth. “Aren’t you a heartbreaker?”

Satan’s eyes widened before he furrowed his brows and backed a few steps away. “No, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that.” Heaving a sigh, he placed a hand on his chest and shut his eyes as he scowled. “Thank you for returning it to me. Have a good day.”

Satan turned on his heel and walked briskly away, leaving you to chuckle at the empty space before retreating back to your room. On your bed, beneath where the book was, lay a green sticky note you had missed in the excitement. Picking it up, you saw a note scrawled in messy handwriting that made you question just how genuine these advances were.

I’m not the best at expressing myself with words. Maybe if I borrow the words of others, you can finally know how I feel.

---

The pattern continued for a few days, with each brother falling victim to one of Belphie’s tricks. Each time, they managed to fluster themselves to impossible standards, aside from Asmo who insisted he never sent you that love letter and don’t you know how beautiful his handwriting is like the rest of him? Oh, but if a love letter was what you were after, he’d send mountains and mountains until you just couldn’t resist him anymore-

By that time, you had gently shut the door in his face and jogged back to your room, just as red as the rest of the brothers were when it was their time to be the victim. Belphegor even managed to send you an email with a fake account with a name so similar to Lucifer’s you almost didn’t catch the differences. By that time, you saw through his jokes and simply asked:

You: Really? An email? [email protected]: What? He’s such a loser that I wouldn’t put it past him.

Even now, over a week since the last incident, Mammon was shouting in the hall as he kept running circles around himself, demanding Belphie to stop making advances on his human and to stop making him look like a fool. Without fail, Belphie always asked, “Oh? Is it foolish to think highly of the human?” Mammon was sent into a new frenzy every time.

By the time they were finished, you were exhausted just from listening to their incessant bickering. Mammon had scurried off, desperate to hide his embarrassment, while Belphie slumped down on the couch next to you and gave you a lazy grin. This time, you couldn’t bring yourself to return it. The antics had to stop.

“I think you should stop using me as a tool to mess with your brothers,” You said, not yet unpausing the show you were watching before the fighting started. Belphie scrunched his face and looked at you without moving his head.

“No can do. It’s too fun to see how desperately they try to save your honor from themselves. Idiots.”

Cringing at the insult, you continued, “Okay, but can you stop with the love advances? It’s a bit...much.”

Finally moving, Belphie turned his head to give you a scrutinizing look you didn’t understand before relaxing back into the couch. “Sure,” He answered humorlessly, tone dry and brittle with what was, to you, misplaced disgust. “It was losing its charm anyway.”

Now he was sulking, and you had half a mind to press play and just ignore his bitter mood. Still, you didn’t mean to make him pout, even if you had no idea where it came from and therefore weren’t exactly responsible for the shift. Sighing, you turned your back on him and leaned back, moving so your head was resting on his slumped chest. Without sparing you a look, Belphie reached his slim finger up and slowly carded them through your hair, making no effort to comb any tangles and deciding to ruffle it instead.

“I would like to know what’s got you in such a sour mood,” You said bluntly, turning your head to watch Belphegor stare at the ceiling blankly. Other than the occasional slow blink, you would have thought he had fallen asleep with how long it took him to respond. You knew better than to think he was ignoring you - he was either thinking of an answer he was satisfied to give or teasing you, seeing how long you’d wait for him and then pointing out how much you must value what he has to say if you’d wait that long.

“You enjoyed it too much,” He finally said, keeping his gaze from yours.

“I enjoyed it?” You repeated, narrowing your eyes. “I can assure you, I enjoyed none of what happened.”

“The fighting, maybe,” He agreed. “But I heard you tell Levi you thought it’d be sweet if he had texted you. I saw your face when you thought the poems were from Satan.”

“You were there?” Trying to remember the scene with Satan, you ran a hand partially through your hair and rested your palm on your forehead.

“The love letter, the gift basket, everything- you enjoyed it before you realized it was fake.”

“Belphegor, where were you?” You asked, knowing he would ignore your question. How many other times had he been secretly watching you without your knowledge? The thought made you shiver.

Clearly disgruntled, Belphegor growled at your questions before rolling his eyes. “At first I was just messing with you, but I never would have guessed you would sooner take sweet nothings from the mouths of fools before you’d ever take the real deal from me when I offer it out to you.”

Blinking rapidly, you felt your face warm and your heartbeat stutter for the thousandth time this week. “You...you never offered me anything,” you answered dumbly. Displeasure flickered across Belphie’s face before he sighed again and slumped further down, forcing your head down with him.

“Of course I didn’t. The others did, but not me,” He replied in such a way that barely hid the frustration in his tone, but the irony he was lamenting was lost on you. Sitting up, you shifted to sit on your knees and bent over Belphie to look at him.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Belphie turned his head away, but you grabbed his cheeks and gently pulled them towards you so he could face you directly. “Belphie, tell me what you were trying to do.”

For a moment, Belphie wondered if he could just slump out of your grasp and lock himself back in the attic, clear by the pondering expression he wore on his face. You squished his face a little tighter, just enough to keep him in place and speak up. “I guess...I was hoping you would think the love letters and everything were from them and you’d reject them.” He looked to the side to avoid the pity you couldn’t hide on your face, his gaze unintentionally hardening. “Why didn’t you reject them? You should have rejected them.”

“I knew it wasn’t real! I was just trying to make them feel better,” You defended. Swiping your hand away from him, Belphie lifted himself up so he was sitting straight and crossed his arms, the image of a petulant child. “Is this...is this your version of a confession?”

Though he did his best to maintain his glare, Belphie couldn’t fight the light pink that tinted his cheeks. “So what if it is?”

Thoroughly pleased with yourself, you sat back on your heels and pretended you needed to mull things over. His hair was covering his eye and he kept his head turned away from you, but you could feel Belphie’s pensive gaze on you as you made your decision. Grinning and leaning closer, you asked, “Is this another prank?”

You felt his cold hands on either side of your face before you even saw him move. He glowered at you with no heat, putting on an upset show. If anything, he was more upset that you insisted on teasing him when you were so nice to the others. “If you can look at me and say you think I’m pranking you right now, you really are just a stupid human.”

Your grin widened. “A stupid human you’d have no qualms about kissing, though, right?”

There was no need to answer you with words when showing you was much more enjoyable.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #swd belphegor #obey me swd #belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x mc #belphegor fluff #obey me imagines #long post #my fics #belphegor writing #satan writing #mine

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disruptivebychoice · 3 years

Text

12/14/2020

There is no action I can take right now that would heal this. It’s out of my hands and tethered to this past of mine, or reality I’m wishing for an escape from. It’s not the kind of reality I think most live. You see, it’s real but it also isn’t. It doesn’t have rhyme or reason for existence and it most certainly doesn’t exist. The senses play tingles that send shivers down my spine but in the way where I want to jump out of my own skin, shed into a new being, or maybe be given a new body. It’s like the pores of my skin know that it needs to leave, like detoxification of whatever it is it can find because the truth of the matter I can’t even find. I think I convince myself of false thinking- that I’m succeeding, that I’m something. But then compared to my mind I feel like a nobody. Whose words have no concern for or desire to change the outlook entirely. It’s hard to describe unless you’ve been there. Living on the outside. Dead down to the heart. A ghost on the inside. What I need is this urgency to have what has held me back to leave and believe that the work has been done, the time the effort has shown time and time again that this time the right me will be the winner, but statistics show the rather, the opposite. it’s always won. My throat tends to fill with air, that I hold for long periods of time when I’m here. Where my instinct is to just stop breathing. Give up, refuse the air and oxygen that so helplessly gives me life; yet the beating of my heart quickens at the onset as if it’s trying hard to make me realize that the truth is, I can’t keep myself from gasping or gathering bits of air to keep this thing pumping. Like a sick game, where again. I lose. Feeling more desperation to get out of this place I’m living within. If a host is real, and not just scientific then I’m living as what is unreal. That is what scares me the most. Thinking I could have this out-of-body experience yet its control is determined by my mind. Deciphering and depicting what’s needed to escape, create something new, to forget the me and who I am. Do I need to play a part or lie to myself for the switch-up with automatic change? But what if I don’t want to change anymore, what if I just want personal growth? Like down to the valves that give blood to the stream that is flowing within me? Grow to my spiritual center, the god part that exists. Change is great, sure. But when you’re me it’s easy to understand why I don’t want to anymore. I made the biggest change that could have ever been made... I changed everything to get where I am. I used to do drugs to numb the strengths of feelings, yet when they made me too numb, I had to take something else so that I could feel something, anything. Today I just feel and that finds me confused. My thoughts and stare go blank sometimes, but it’s to cope with the misunderstanding I have of what content is. I start feeling straight-lined, but quickly my body reminds me that this is some type of numbing going on even when there isn’t. This leads to questioning by past nature, that I must be using. But this is different. It’s stillness. It doesn’t have the properties of chemicals that create it, nor chemicals that take me away from it. I haven’t known it so maybe that’s why the pushing occurs where I inevitably find myself backed into a corner, while my body taunts me in ungodly ways. I’ve had these times where an exorcism seems fitting, but I’m not a demon. Just a human so I know it’s not truly what’s needed. But some days I just wish I could secrete the secret that I can’t even find to unearth because it’s that deep inside my unconscious. I’ve found a lot of loss in the importance of me lately. Figuratively I think, not literally. Or maybe both now that the words meet paper. I’m over-analyzing with robot decisions and playing two sides that have me wondering what the definition is portrayed or interpreted as in my mind because let’s be real, it doesn’t know the false from the sane or the insane from the truth. What I do know, is what I experience daily can’t even be classified as trauma because I may be wrong, but trauma ends. This doesn’t feel like it will. Faith tells me the sadness might end, or rather sickness or rather uncontrolled, or rather blank will run away. Maybe one day I’ll be able to live without the ghost that resides and I’ll see how everything was meant to be, that this charade of life I’m living but yet trying to get away from, will start running from me. As I try to question how I do this, I can’t even form words to a sentence to ask.

So, I’ll do what I always do. I’ll stand up to the task.

It sucks because I don’t even know if these words written will be a plan to decipher and dig deeper, or if it will set me free... a little more. That’s what I hope for.

#journal #mentalhealth #writtenconsiderations #poeticstories #poetryportal #change #strength #mywriting #spilledink #spilledthoughts

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ourimpavidheroine · 3 years

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Anonymous said:

I've been listening to your character soundtracks and I'm wondering if you have a song for Jason Momoa I mean Sitiak?

I just need you all to know that the whole Jason Momoa/Sitiak thing is 1000% pure fanservice. There is no other reason for the character. Several of you made me feel bad back in the day that I did not make Qi and Wei hook up and so Sitiak was for sure a consolation prize. (And why not make him look like Jason Momoa, I ask you? I mean. I mean.)

Here’s what I know about Sitiak: he’s older than Wei, the same age as Mako and Baatar Jr. He grew up in the North Pole (yes, I am aware that his song is about the South Pole but just allow me some license, please), the son of a very traditional, conservative family. A powerful, old family. Think of one of those rich old East Coast families, where all the very bland, blonde, chiseled sons are called James Spooner Winthrop Adams the V (but are called Biff to distinguish them from their fathers and grandfathers) and they all have trust funds and are grandfathered into Ivy League schools, etc. That was Sitiak.

Who only ever wanted to be a healer, the same way his twin sister did. And while men can be healers at that time in the North Pole, not in his family they aren’t.

Sitiak develops a drinking problem while in his late teens. And he continues to drink and not give a fuck and spend his parents’ money and waste his life with his equally wastrel friends. And he’s given license to do this, because boys will be boys, amirite? Eventually he will settle down, of course, and go into politics the way he’s supposed to. That’s just what boys like him do.

He dates men who are utterly and totally unsuitable, because he likes a bad boy. Most of them treat him like shit.

He thinks that’s what he deserves.

When Sitiak is in his mid-20′s he is shitfaced drunk, out racing boats amongst the icebergs, when a storm comes up and four boats get caught in it. He’s so drunk his bending is pretty much useless, and he and the other playboys on his boat are nearly killed. One of the playboys on one of the other boats IS drowned, and there’s a big scandal over it, and Daddy and Mommy take Sitiak aside to scold him and tell him that’s enough now, it’s time to stop playing and fall into line.

His sister, on the other hand, tells him he needs to get the fuck out of the North Pole before he actually succeeds in killing himself, one way or the other. And so he leaves.

And he gets his shit together. Eventually. Through hard work. He starts to train as a healer, and his parents, furious that he’s not falling into line, cut him off financially. (His sister, when she can, will send him some funds.) He has to, for the first time in his life, be responsible, get his ass out of bed, make a living. He gets sober. He stops seeing Unsuitable Men. He starts to do some training as Healer, trying to get caught up on the years he missed. (His twin has been training since she was in her teens.) His eventual goal is to get to the Healing Academy in the South Pole, but he never gets that far.

He is Kya’s last student, and becomes a good healer. He will train Meili, for starters, with Kya’s supervision and over the years will train other healers as well. He’s a natural teacher, and in fact his eventual focus will be on training other healers. (He works a lot with the junior healers at the Bridge Clinic, for example.)

He and Wing never have children, but they are happy with that decision. They like being able to do what they want on a whim; both of them want and appreciate their freedom and don’t want the responsibility that comes with parenthood. Sitiak is, however, extremely fond of Wei’s nieces and nephews as well as his own sister’s boys, and he absolutely enjoys unclehood as much as Wei does.

Eventually they do end up breeding North Pole Snowball cats. They show them in cat shows. They become the most famous North Pole Snowball cattery outside of North Pole. They buy one of the other flats to the other side of Wei’s flat and knock out the walls to join them together so they can have said cattery. It’s An Entire Thing.

Sitiak is reserved and formal until he gets to know you but there’s always a little part of him that’s kept behind walls for everyone but Wei. It comes from his life before. He’s not shy, however, and he’s not even an introvert. He and Wei will both stay sober but they’ll enjoy entertaining and traveling and become big supporters of the arts. He does not really reconcile with his parents, although Wei will eventually meet them. It’s one of those cordial but distant kind of things. His parents are never really okay with his leaving the North Pole and taking up healing, but he doesn’t worry about their approval and so that allows a relationship of sorts.

Wei likes to call him Daddy. That’s a thing, too.

Once I thought that I was in control But that was just another trick of fate Playing with my life There have been some times I was so tied up And I said to myself Gotta break it all But didn't really try

Two hearts beating in this place you've made You know nothing changes my Antarctica

You can make your rhymes And paint your rules In black and white For me to memorize But never understand And there will be time For a thousand vows Oh a thousand promises We forgot To be realized

Two hearts beating in this place you've made You know nothing changes my Antarctica One life pumping We make love to make our heat And we throb in my Antarctica

We'll keep the rhythm going And we'll remember We'll keep the laughter flowing And we'll remember We let the music jangle And we'll remember

Two hearts beating in this place you've made You know nothing changes my Antarctica One life pumping We make love to make our heat And we throb in my Antarctica Caught and sheltered this is what you made You know I will stay here In Antarctica

And you Will stay here With me

#character soundtrack #Sitiak #aka Daddy #long post

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issabangtanfic · 4 years

Text

[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 5)

Masterlist

Synopsis: When for once rich doesn’t rhyme with Christian Grey.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!

“What the hell are you doing?” I splutter, recoiling from him as his fingertips graze my shoulders. I turn around, giving him a look of pure confusion. He looks down at me with a wolfish grin.

“Getting an early start?” He shrugs, taking a step towards me. I frown deeply. What the hell is he talking about. I step back, replaying our encounter from the beginning, trying to figure out where I messed up.

“I should have called dibs, but Jungkook won’t mind if we start without him.” He explains, taking his suit jacket off and throwing it carelessly on the table where multiple dildos are displayed. He follows me as I back away from him. What the heck is he saying? Did I really just agree on a three-way without realizing it? Am I that drunk already?

“What? I breathe, still trying to escape him. The back of my knees hit the edge of one of the strategically placed beds, and I plop down on it with a squeal. His hands come down to his belt.

“Now- “

“No!” I shout, my hand coming up to hide his groin from my sight. He frowns, but his eyes stay playful.

“What do you mean, no?” He asks me. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

My jaw drops open, and my frown deepens. How dare you?! Do I look like being a bloody hooker is my side gig? Where the hell did he get this idea from? I’m so offended, I struggle to form words. All I can do is scoff, and he’s quick to move on. I

“Or are you into pretending you don’t like it?” He tilts his head to the side. I start to panic. One of his hand reaches behind my head as he pushes his fingers in my hair, gathering a fistful of it before tugging sharply, tilting my head back. He brings his face close to mine.

Oh hell no.

“I really don’t mind- “

I jerk one leg with all of my strength, kicking him in the balls.

“AAAAAAARGH!” He cries out in pain, letting go of me to attend to his wounded testicles. Heaving, I shove him and he falls to the ground. I get up and grab the adjacent dildo displayer, pulling down and making it fall on him.

Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I run out of the room as quickly as I came. Not sure whether he’s following me or not, I make a dash to get my bag.

“Miss Fair?” Mr. Jeon is walking towards me, frowning at my panicked state. He looks clueless, but apparently he’s in on this. He’s made me understand so many times he wants to have sex with me.

“Get away from me!” I yell at him, pulling out my pepper spray. I’m armed. He better not try anything stupid. At the same moment, his brother emerges from the room, still groaning in pain and hunched over, I back away so the two are in my sight.

How the hell am I getting out of here? Mr. Jeon is standing in the way to the front door and I don’t know this place enough to figure out another route.

“What happened?” Mr. Jeon asks, taking slow steps towards me. I back away.

“What kind of fucked up trap is this, huh?! You guys are sick!” I shout, glancing between the two in case one of them tries something. I have to be smart about this. If they both attack me at the same time, I’m done. I only took so much defense classes. I lost interest when the hot instructor got replaced.

Mr. Jeon turns to his brother, his face a knot of confusion.

“What did you tell her?” He asks Eliott.

“Nothing!” He replies, still struggling to stand upright.

“Nothing?! You assaulted me!” I retort.

“I thought we were playing!” He counters, seeking support in his brother’s eyes. Mr. Jeon doesn’t give it to him.

“Playing what, Eliott?! Are you fucking stupid?!” He bellows, shoving him against the double doors of the red room. He could be pretending. Hargreeves said he was in on this. He said he was supposed to join us.

Taking advantage of the commotion, I decide to turn on my heels and run. I’ll find a way out of this place.

“Maya!” I hear Mr. Jeon call after me. I run out of the hall and close the first door I find, which happens to be French doors that give onto the extension and its spiral staircase. Despite Mr. Jeon trailing me, I decide to stop to lock the door and slow him down.

“Maya, wait!” He bangs on the glass, startling me. “It’s really not what you think!” He shouts, his voice muffled. Yeah, sure. Not taking any chances, I start running again, climbing the stairs two by two, and retracing my steps but from one floor above. This is the same place he brought me the first time, so I know how to get out from here. When I make a left turn to take the stairs, I bump into Mr. Jeon’s firm chest.

“Maya, stop!” He orders, grabbing my shoulders. He gets a kick in the balls as well. This is something I have wanted to do for a long time.

“Aaaaargh!” He groans, falling down on one knee. He deserves it. I make a final dash down the stairs and to the front door, successfully getting out of the mansion.

“Maya, you’re pissed! You can’t drive!” Mr. Jeon screams after me. In this frenzy, I still manage to pick up on his British accent, which I had never heard before. I unlock my mini and jump in, but the gate is closed.

Shit.

Mr. Jeon appears at my window, banging on my door.

“Maya, I swear this is a misunderstanding. Let me explain.” He begs.

“Leave me alone!”

Without me even beginning to think about a way to drive off, the gate lights up, buzzes and starts to slide open. Mr. Jeon disappears. This is my chance.

“Don’t open the bloody gate! Fucking dingus!” I hear him yell in the distance. When the gap is big enough for my mini to speed through, I start the engine and drive off. I speed down the long and dusty road that leads to the mansion, but I soon hear the loud roar of a sports car.

I look into my rearview and see a bright red, low car speeding up behind me. The rich bastard. My mini is no match. In less than ten seconds, the car passes me and blocks the road, making a sharp turn to the right and effectively blocking me. I’m forced to stop.

I watch is Mr. Jeon steps out of the car, pacing towards me. I turn on my main beams to blind him, but it only works for a coup of seconds. I lock my doors.

“Get out the bloody car, Maya.” He orders once he’s at my level. His eyes are hard and stern, his frown subtle.

“No!”

“I’m not moving my car, you bash it and I sue you.” He points a threatening index at me.

“I’m calling the police!”

“Maya, this is a misunderstanding! My brother got the wrong idea!” He exclaims. He definitely did, but I’m pretty sure he’s the one who put that idea in his head!

“You two had planned on having sex with me!”

“No!” He says categorically. "I mean, I want to, but not with him. I wouldn’t share you with anyone.” He explains. Share me?

“He said he should have called dibs and that you would join us.” I counter. He just shakes his head.

“He's got the wrong idea.” He repeats. “And he’s half as pissed as you are."

I glare at him. I don’t know if he’s being honest, but I want to leave this place.

“He’s… I don’t even know why I bother with him.” He says, dropping his head in defeat. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I believe him. I don’t care at this point. I’m safer in my car, and I just want to go.

“He’ll apologize.” He promises after a beat, looking back at me. I don’t need his apology; I need to get home!

“Maya, I promise you. I would never do anything like that to you.” He says when I don’t reply.

“You just did.” I counter. He puts a hand up on the roof on my mini and leans further down so he’s at my eye level.

“No, my brother attacked you and I’m sorry. But you have to believe me, I had no idea he would do that.” He says slowly. I don’t know anymore. That could be true, but I’m more interested in getting out of here.

“I don’t ever want to see him again.” I declare. He lets out a sigh of relief.

“That’s fine. That’s even better.” He murmurs. "I wouldn’t have let him touch you. Consenting or not.” He adds on a more serious tone. Consenting or not?

“Whatever.” I mutter. “You can move your car now.”

“Maya!” He says disapprovingly. Oh what now? Can I just go home already? I just want to get away from here.

“I just want to go home!”  I cry.

“I’ll take you home, then! I’m not letting you drive after all the wine you've had!” He raises his voice as well, visibly losing his patience.

 “I don’t want you to take me home!” I retort. Who the fuck is he? My dad? Who in the ever-loving hell does he think he is to boss me around like that? Like it’s not even his fault I’m in this situation in the first place?

“Then I’ll call a bloody cab for you! Be fucking reasonable!” He bellows, his wrath making me shake like a leaf. Tears spring to my eyes.

“Stop yelling at me!” I shout. He flinches, removing his hand from my car. Fuming, I storm out of my car and slam the door closed. He takes a step back as I point an angry index at him.

“I am done putting up with your arrogant, abusive, and perverted ways Mr. Jeon.” I declare. "You have done nothing but make me uncomfortable and put me in danger.”

His eyes widen and his eyebrows connect.

“I am going to tell everything to my boss so I don’t have to spend another minute and you and your pervert of a brother. I am not going to endure another fucking second of this!” I spit at him, and it feels liberating. He stares at me, wide-eyes, speechless. His eyes search on my face. He doesn’t know what to do.

“It’s your cue to piss off!” I lash out, my voice echoing in the silent night.

“Let me get you a cab.” He says quietly.

“I’ll get it myself! Bye!” I yell. I can’t stand this man anymore. He thinks he’s so important to me, that I need him, that he has control over me, but he’s just another rich piece of shit. They all are.

“I want to stay and watch you get in.”

“And I want you to get out of my sight!”

“Okay!” He exclaims. “I get it.” He says more quietly. “But I’m leaving until you’re safe. Deal with it.”

What a stubborn little shit. Alright, then. I can’t physically make him move so I have no choice but to endure his presence a for an extra 20 minutes.

Sighing loudly, I pull out my phone to order a cab. The screen refuses to light up.

“You’ve got be joking me.” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“What?” Mr. Jeon enquires.

“Phone’s dead.” I mutter.

“Is it, now?”

“Stop.” I hiss at him.

“Maya, it’s late. You’ve had a pretty rough night, and you don’t want to see me- I get it.” He says to me. “I just want to drive you home. I won’t talk, I won’t try anything. The quicker you accept, the quicker you’re home.” He proposes. Exhausted by tonight’s events, and with the alcohol making my temples ache, I lose all will to fight him.

“Just don’t fucking talk to me.” I mutter, stomping my feet and walking over to the passenger side.

“Thank you, Maya.” I hear him say from behind me.

Mr. Jeon parks his car in a more decent way before climbing into mine. I buckle my belt and look out the window, wiling to twist my neck until in aches to avoid his eyes. For once since the first time we went, Mr. Jeon is respectful of my boundaries and doesn’t speak to me.

With this week’s stress, the adrenaline rush, and the now strong effects of the wine, I start to drift away and completely doze off by the time we reach London.

“Maya.” I hear him call my name. I convince my eyes open, feeling disoriented, and a little bit nauseous. I blink a few times, looking around.

“We’re at your house.” Mr. Jeon says to me. Already? The hammering in my head begins. I’m in my car, still sitting on the passenger seat, the door open, Mr. Jeon crouching down in front of me.

“I have your purse. Can you walk?" He asks me. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I nod weakly, though I’m not fully awake. I unbuckle my belt and step out, but my heel gets caught on the side walk.

“Easy.” Mr Jeon, says, wrapping a strong arm around my waist to keep me steady. I’m against his chest, and he’s looking down at me. Okay, now I’m awake. Hello.

“Hi.” He says to me. Why does he have to be so bloody beautiful? Thanks to the alcohol in my system, I have an excuse for turning crimson red. I feel my cheeks heat up.

This won’t do.

Clearing my throat, I push myself off of him, finding my balance again. I am tipsy, not drunk. I can walk. I smooth my dress down and take my purse from his hand.

“Thank you for the ride. Good night.” I tell him keeping my tone icy and my eyes as cold as I can manage, not waiting for a reply, I turn on my heels and head for my front door.

“Maya?” I hear him call behind me. I decide to grant him a last piece of my attention. He stands there, one hand in his pocket.

“For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry for what my brother did and for how I’ve behave with you.” He says to me, his eyes apologetic. His puppy act misses my sozzled brain. I will not let him get me like this.

“Trust me, you’re not sorry yet. Don’t bother sending me flowers.” I reply coldly, before stepping into my home without another look.

#jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #bts scenariios #bts smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #jimin #park jimin #park jimin scenario #bts jimin scenarios

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mysteryofren · 4 years

Text

Kylo Ren Does Have A Ring To It

chapter 37 of So Happy Together

Masterlist

note: sorry this took so long to get out. the next chapter is gonna be super sad so im sorry in advance for all the sadness.

possible tw: underage smoking, and drink (dont drink or smoke kids)

The sun felt amazing on your skin. The cold winter months were finally gone, and the summer heat had settled in. you laid out on the small floatie letting your skin absorb the heat. Your mind was blank as you absentmindedly soaked in the sun. your relaxing was interrupted when you felt your floatie moving a bit too much, then next thing you knew you were falling into the water. You struggled to get back to the surface. When you finally got up you saw Kylo running in the water to where Hux was.

“WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?” you screamed out to him.

“THAT WAS FOR THE ANTS!!!” you heard Hux yell back.

“Idiots.” you whispered to yourself as you grabbed the floatie. Walking back to shore you looked at the truck. The water guns you all had bought were still sitting in the bed of it. As you approached the truck you tossed the floatie into the bed. The boy’s guns were still there too. You grabbed yours, and saw Kylos snorkel stuff. You opened it, and put it on as best you could. The goggles were huge on you, but you made it work.

The boys were facing the opposite way which gave you the perfect opportunity to sneak up on them. Slowly you got back into the water, and you let yourself go under. With the goggles you were able to spot their legs, and you swam towards them. You came up about a foot behind them, and loaded your water gun. Slowly you walked back over to them, and shot Hux in the back a few times. He screamed, and fell into the water. Kylo turned around and put his hands up as you took the goggles off.

“Any last words?” you asked him playfully as Hux got back up.

“Uhh….you’re my best friend.” he said.

“Nice try.” you sprayed water at his face, and lowered the water gun.

“Alright you win this one Kenobi.” Hux said as he wiped water off his face.

“Yeah, but were getting you back for that one.” Kylo said.

“Hey, I was minding my business when you two decided to ruin it.”

“You started it with the ants.” Kylo said walking back to shore.

“He is right. You started it.” Hux reminded you as he followed Kylo. Great now they were in cahoots together. Guess that just meant you, and Ben had to team up to fight this kind of evil.

“Hey you guys wanna blow up the big floatie, and go down the river?” you asked them as they dried off with their towels.

“Sounds pretty good to me.” Hux said as he grabbed the box from the trunk. He worked on getting it open while you, and Kylo dried off a bit. You went into the small cooler you guys had brought, and grabbed a drink. As Hux got the box open you sat on the truck bed with him, and chatted with Kylo. you both were talking about Han, and him when Hux interrupted.

“Where's the pump for the floatie?”

“I don't know Kylo was supposed to pack it.” you both looked to him.

“Hey, don't look at me, it's in there.”

“Where?” Hux asked him. Kylo looked like he was thinking before he finally said.

“Yeah okay, so I forgot it.” you sprayed him again with the water gun as punishment.

“Well since the bike boy over here forgot it he's the first one to blow.” you said as you took it from Hux’s hands, and passed it to Kylo.

“I'm not a bike boy!” he defended.

“Fine sword boy then. Get blowin.” you commanded as he took it out of your hands. He stayed blowing air into the giant float for about 20 minutes before he got tired. Luckily he got a good portion of it blown up before then. He passed it over to you, and you took your turn. After an hour all three of you managed to get it blown up.

There wasn't an intense amount of sun in the sky, but there was enough that Hux was in trouble. You all hadn’t been there long, but his fair skin was already getting a red hue to it. You fought with him for a few minutes about him needing to reapply. He insisted that he would be fine for another hour, but you knew within the hour you would be far from shore, and wouldn't be able to get it for him. He finally caved in, and reapplied a thick layer as a joke. Kylo came up behind him, and patted him on the back for seemingly no reason. When he took the float to the water you realized what kylor had done. In the thick layer that was on his back was Kylos giant handprint ready to be burned into his skin. You stifled your laughter as Hux set up the float.

“Ok, are we ready for lift off?” you asked the boys.

“Ren, grab the cooler. We may get hungry while we are out.” Hux demanded.

“On it Boss.” Kylo said as he walked to the cab, and grabbed it. He loaded it into the 4th floatie seat, and stepped onto it. He held his hands out to the both of you.

“Ladies first,” he said. You went to grab his hand when he pushed it away.

“I said ladies, let's go Hux.” you hit his shoulder, and Hux took his hand.

“Ever the gentleman, Ren.” Hux Dramatically batted his eyelashes at Kylo, and stepped onto the float.

“You two, are absolutely insane.” you said to them as you sat down in one of the seats.

“Insanely in love.” Kylo joked as he sat in his spot. With that you all worked together to push the floatie away from the shore. You all stuck your arms out ofit, and tried paddling towards the start of the river. Once you were there, you let the river take the float where it wanted, and you guys stopped paddling with your arms.

“So here we all are.” Hux said as he laid back in his seat.

“You know when I first met you all I never thought we would be friends. I thought you all would think I'm weird, and not hang out with me.”

“Ren, we do think you are weird. We are too, it's why we keep inviting you back.”

“So what's with the whole Ren thing? I heard you call him that all day.”

“Ok. so don't my parents, but I changed my last name. It's Kylo Ren now.”

“Changed your last name? Why?”

“Cmon. Kylo Solo? Did that sound like a good name to have? It rhymed, no name should rhyme.” he argued.

“He does have a point. Names should not rhyme, it's bizarre.” Hux added.

“Exactly. So I changed it to Ren, like my biker gang.”

“As dorky as that is, Kylo Ren does have a ring to it. I like it.” you said.

“Thanks, just dont tell my parents they would lose their minds.”

“Do you plan on telling them?”

“Not until my death bed.” he responded as he opened the cooler.

“Hey, you want your smokes, Hux?”

“HUSH! PEOPLE COULD HEAR YOU.” he scolded Kylo.

“So is that a yes?” he asked.

“Yes, give them to me.” he said as he held his hand out. Kylo grabbed the small carton from the cooler, and handed it over to him. He opened it, and pulled one out. Kylo dug through the cooler, and brought out his lighter. Hux took it, lit his cigarette, and handed both items back to be put in the cooler again. You watched him as his body visibly relaxed as he took a drag.

“Hey do you drink?” you heard Kylo say.

“Who, me?” you asked.

“Yeah. I stole a bottle of my moms wine. The good stuff too, she usually pulls this one out for holidays.” he pulled out the bottle, and handed it over to you. Gently, you took the bottle, and read the label.

“Pryde Vines? Why does that sound familiar?” you asked him.

“Enric Pryde. My Father, and him work closely together. Obi-Wan knows him as well, that's probably why you have heard the name.” Hux said as he kept smoking.

“Yeah, my grandpa has stocks in the vineyard so we get free bottles every now and then, but this is one of their better ones, she has a cup every christmas like clock work.” Kylo said as he took back the bottle, and opened it.

“So you stole it?” you asked him.

“Yeah I stole it!”

“Why?”

“It's just who I am as a person.” he said as he took a sip. He held it towards Hux, and he took it.

“You don't have to drink if you don't want to kid. If you do, we won't tell.” he said as Hux drank.

“I'm not too sure, I've never done this sort of stuff.”

“Well, who better to try it with, than your best friends?” Hux said as he passed the bottle to Kylo. Kylo took a big chug, and held it towards you.

“Your big moment kid. Now or never.” He said as you took it.

“Just a sip, i'm not looking to get wrecked” you put the bottle to your lips, and took the smallest sip. The wine smelled sour, but when it hit your lips it was warm, and sweet. You had only taken the slightest sip, but it was enough for you to understand why the wine was so special to Leia. You heard the boys cheering for you as you put the bottle down, and wiped your mouth.

“I knew you had some delinquency in you!” Kylo said as he patted your back as Hux too the bottle back.

“Hey, should you even have that by something that can burst into flames?” you asked Hux. he looked at his cigarette, and inhaled the rest of it, before flicking the butt of it out into the water, and taking another drink.

“Dude. littering?” Kylo said to him.

“Ren, I once saw you rip up a plastic bag, and throw it on the ground for fun, I do not want to hear it.”

“You rip up plastic bags for fun?” you asked Kylo.

“Hey it was just once.” you laughed at him while he snatched the bottle away from Hux, and drank some. You then gently grabbed the bottle, and took a drink for yourself. The three of you drank, and relaxed as the floatie slowly followed the river's current. You leaned back, and looked at everything around you. The trees were large, and bent over the river covering the wide body of water in shade. There were a few other people going down the river along with you guys that you could see. Hux had closed his eyes, and was soaking in the little spots of sun that seeped through the trees. The water was clear, and deep. You could see the little fish swimming around the floaties bottom. You Stuck your hand in, and watched them scatter quickly before swimming back to your hand out of curiosity.

You heard the sound of birds, both in the forest around the river, and up in the air above the trees. There was one bird native to the area that you were hoping to see. You remember your grandfather telling you about how he saw it once, but you wanted to see it for yourself. The shyyyo bird was a big crane life bird with beautiful feathers. The entire time you tried to keep your eyes in the trees in order to spot it. You gave up pretty quickly. With the alcohol in your system you just wanted to lay back, and do nothing, but enjoy the day. The river was long, and winding, and the three of you still had a long way to go on it. Kylo was checking out some girl that was swimming with her friends, and you followed where he was looking.

“Dude go for it.” you said to him. He looked at you then back at her.

“Nah, i'm just enjoying the view.” he said in response.

“I believe that is the most barbaric thing I have heard you say today.” Hux said as he looked at the girl with him.

“Hux you don't get to scold him if you do the same thing.”

“I'm just enjoying the view.” he said as a joke. You smiled as they continued talking. Kylo hadn’t been in your life long, but you knew you loved him. He had a side to him he never showed anyone. A side that was childish, and fun. Not as serious, and brooding as he was when you first met him. He proved to be sweet, funny, caring, and understanding. He had his moments where he acted like Han, but all that he got from Leia. He definitely had Hans charm, and wit. He also had the ability to worm his way out of any situation like Han. it's insane how many times a week he finds himself in trouble, but he always weasels his way out.

Soon you all had drifted through the entire river. At the end was another lake, one that was way smaller than origin lake. It had a few people with small children in it, and some people with pets. It made you wish you guys had brought Chewie, or Gideon. The boys wanted to spend some time at the smaller lake to sober up a bit before leaving for the day. The wine bottle wasn't passed to you, as much as it was passed between Kylo, and Hux. you took 3 sips max, so you left them to stay at the smaller lake, while you walked the hike trail back to origin lake where the truck was parked. Your feet, and legs were killing you by the time you got to the truck, but still you got in, and drove back to where Hux, and Kylo were left.

You pulled up, and watched them lay on the float that was on the shore. The small waves crashed against the float, and splashed onto Hux. as you put the truck in park Hux began deflating the float, while Kylo got up, and grabbed the cooler. He placed it in the bed, and you walked out to help Hux. Deflating it was fairly easy. You, and Hux just sat on it, and slowly the air was being let out. Kylo dried himself off, before handing a towel over to the two of you. When you were dried off, and the float was small enough to fit back in its box you all decided to go home.

The drive home was just as fun as the day was. It consisted of all three of you talking about random things. Kylo, and Hux of course had a debate about movies. Hey both looked to you as their mediator. Today's debate had been whether they could survive some movie apocalypse. Hux was practical and rational. He knew that if a virus apocalypse happened he would most likely die during the first few days. Kylo on the other hand thought he would survive. He argued his blood was too strong which made zero sense, but you let him have it. They ended the debate just as you had pulled into Kylos driveways. You, and the boys said your goodbyes, and they went inside as you set off to drive home.

The ride home was quiet. You were just excited to go home, and see your pop pop,and tell Gideon about the day you had. You would be lying if you said you didn’t speed a bit to get there. When you finally arrived home, you ran inside. You assumed that your pop pop had gone to bed, but to your surprise they were both in the den. You walked in and immediately felt uneasy.

You turned to look at your grandfather. Then Gideon. Somethings wrong. Very wrong

tags: @wumboho @pylopenpolo @duty-isnt-always-honour

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mass-effect-galaxy · 5 years

Text

Joan’s Song 4: Eden Prime

Ashley Williams had never seen a ship like that. She was just leaving Dr. Manuel’s surgery. And there, it was: some kind of giant metal hot-dog hovering over the camp of the 212. That ship now started bombarding Ashley’s men with blocks of metal. One smashed Koslowski. What the hell...? Those blocks were folded robots, geth! The real attack was just starting. The geths ‘unfolded’ amidst the marines and slaughtered the humans. 212 never stood a chance.

On a reflex, Ashley hit the security lock of Dr. Manuel’s office and locked him in. She used her Lancer rifle to open fire. Not a panicked barrage that would have hit nothing and just overheated the weapon, but aimed bursts of ten shots as she was drilled to do. Each burst hit and Ashley was able to take out some geths before the machines reacted to her. Flashlight heads turned in her direction and she had to jump behind Dr. Manuel’s sky car to not get hit as the geth returned fire. The robots made some kind of hydraulic sound when moving towards her. Approaching the sky car they were communicating with metallic stuttering. That sound reminded Ashley of the faulty vibrator she had bought while being stationed on Arvuna. She changed to her Storm shotgun. Time to get personal. Ashley came up behind the car and gunned down the synthetics with quick aimed shots. She was hit several times herself but that didn’t stop her from firing.

It was over. Ashley launched Intercom to call HQ, however, the comm was nothing but a cacophony of distress calls from all over the planet. Pointless. She sent a text message over extranet to the Fifth Fleet instead. “Eden Prime under attack. Upper dig-site secured. 212 exterminated. Requesting reinforcements. Chief Williams.”

“The Arcturus Prime Relay is in range, Commander. The captain wants to see you.” “Thank you, Joker.” Joan Shepard already had changed into armor when the call came. She found the situation rather odd: Captain Anderson was no space-ship commander but a celebrated special-forces officer. Shepard herself was no engineer but a top elite infantry grunt. However, both had been freshly assigned to the Normandy to test its prototype stealth drive. The brass could hardly expect them to give more than a “works” or “doesn’t work”-statement on it. And there was Nihlus, a turian spectre. Even though the Normandy was a turian-human design, the crew was human only. All this didn’t make much sense. Maybe, the Council wanted to appoint either her or Anderson as a spectre. Rumors had it that, after C-Sec, humans would be admitted into the spectres too. And why not her: youngest commander in Alliance history, N7, and a legend at the age of 29. She took down a thresher maw on Akuze, earned the Star of Terra on Elysium and won on Torfan against impossible odds by sacrificing most of her team.

Torfan. Shepard gently touched Jan’s dog tags before leaving her cabin; a ritual she had started with when coming on to the Normandy. The tags hang on a portrait of Lieutenant Jan Schaeffer. Not a photography but a drawing by Shepard. That was her talent. She couldn’t sing, or dance, or rhyme, or handicraft things. And she certainly was at war with every computer in the galaxy. A drawing was Shepard’s way to express herself. She had painted Jan with dark-brown hair instead of the red hair she had when they met that day before Torfan. Shepard believed that to have been her natural color. It was odd. They had known each other for barely a day when Jan had died in Shepard’s arms, but Shepard felt hollow ever since. She always was the love-at-first-sight kind of woman, but she never had experienced a ‘kick’ like the feelings she had when meeting Jan. And then the animals had taken her away. And the man responsible for it got away with an honorable discharge: Major Kyle.

Captain Anderson and Nihlus were waiting for her in the comm room. Shepard hadn’t met Anderson before this mission. Anderson did, however, serve under her father and was acquainted with her mother, Hannah. Shepard did know Admiral Hackett personally, though. He was her father’s best friend and the Hacketts and Shepards had visited each other quite frequently when Joan was still young. Aunt Karin, Dr. Chakwas, the elder sister of Hannah Shepard, was serving as the Normandy’s medic. The first generation Alliance officers’ corps was one large family. And having the right connections certainly couldn’t hurt.

“Ah, Commander”, Shepard was greeted by Nihlus, “we had been talking about you.” ‘Of course, you have’, thought Shepard. Captain Anderson continued, “Shepard, we are about to go groundside on Eden Prime. You will be in charge of a team supporting Spectre Nihlus. This is a pick-up mission.” Eden Prime? Shepard had spent her holidays there two years ago. It was nice but so boring she reported back for duty three days early. Next time she went to Elysium... “What’s the payload, Captain.” “Our science team has uncovered a prothean beacon”, Anderson said in awe. The Alliance used a stealth frigate and elite soldiers to pick up 50,000 years old junk from the most peaceful colony in human space? What comes next, using a dreadnought for pizza-delivery? “Prothean, Sir?” Shepard asked perplexed. But before Captain Anderson could answer, Joker came in over the comm. “Got a priority message from Fith Fleet HQ, Admiral Hackett.” “Patch him through, Lieutenant.” A holographic Hackett appeared over QEC.

“Captain, we are receiving distress calls from Eden Prime. I understand Normandy will be there shortly?”. “ETA one hour, Sir. Who’s attacking?” “Unkown. But to our information, the dig site is safe for now. Go groundside ASAP and secure the beacon. That is your top priority. Hackett out.” Nihlus was already leaving the room. Shepard was about to go as well but Anderson held her back. “Shepard, don’t screw this up. Nihlus had been requesting you by name. They are tagging you to be a spectre.” There it was. “You can count on me, Sir.” Shepard left the comm room smiling.

The shore-party was composed of Shepard, Nihlus, Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, a biotic who also doubled as field-medic, and Corporal Jenkins, a sniper with technical skills. While Shepard felt sorry for Jenkins, only NCO in a party with three chieftains, she hadn’t made up her mind on Alenko. Shepard always felt a bit uneasy around biotics. Maybe because they were able to master something she couldn’t even understand. But then again, the same could be said about hackers, doctors, or craftsmen - and those didn’t intimidate her at the least. The Lieutenant obviously was a man of integrity, but Shepard suspected he might be lacking the necessary roughness for this job. Maybe that’s the reason why he had not made it past lieutenant despite his excellent education and obvious abilities.

The team reached the dig-site without incidents. That place, however, clearly had been a battlefield: bodies, both civilians and marines, were lying around. Between them something that looked like destroyed security mecs, even though Shepard wasn’t able to identify the model. “Geth”, mumbled Alenko. Possible. No sign of the beacon. The Commander used gestures to split up the team in order to secure the perimeter. Shepard herself passed a burning sky-car to check a locked container. When she rounded that container, someone grabbed her and pressed a hand on her mouth. From the corner of her eye, Shepard could see that the attacker was a woman in Alliance armor. Her grip was remarkably strong, and before Shepard could fight back, the other woman carefully turned Shepard’s head to the left. Only a few paces away a group of geth was erecting some kind of giant spikes. Damn it, Shepard nearly had run into them. Several humans were held under guard nearby. Shepard could guess where that was going to. She nodded slowly and the other one let her go. The woman already had readied a sniper rifle. Shepard thought of calling for her team, but that certainly would have alarmed the flashlights. She unholstered the Python X sniper rifle on her back and whispered, “On me. Left to right.” And then they started some kind of fast sniping contest. Geths did not panic and usually did not take cover either. After all, they were machines. Their programming caused them to stand and return fire. Worst possible tactics against two snipers. The fight was over before any of the others showed up.

Shepard was first on her feet and helped the other woman up. “Chief Williams of the 212. I am glad you came, Ma’am.” “Where is the rest of your unit, Chief?” “Dead, Ma’am. They died when...” At this moment, Ashley saw Nihlus. She immediately drew her pistol on him. “What’s with the turian, Ma’am?” “Stand down, Chief”, Shepard said more soothingly than firmly. “This is Nihlus Kryik, a Council Spectre.” Ashley kept her gun pointed on Nihlus. “The turians are behind this attack, Ma’am. I have seen them.” Instinctively, Shepard drew her gun too. Alenko and Jenkins followed. “What’s going on here, Nihlus?”, Shepard demanded to know. Nihlus raised his hands, a truly ‘universal’ gesture. He stayed calm, brought up a picture on the monitor of his omnitool and asked Ashley in his deep, rolling turian voice, “Is that the turian you have seen?” “Exactly. Your pal, chicken?” Shepard took a quick glance of Williams. She squinnied and her carotid was swollen, pumping. She was on the brink of explosion. The Commander should have interfered but Shepard was more curious on where that was going to. “His name is Saren Arterius.”, Nihlus continued ignoring the insult, “he is another spectre. Rouge. I came here to kill him.” “What? You knew he would be here?”, Shepard lowered her gun. Alenko and Jenkins again followed. Williams didn’t. “As I said, Ma’am. The birds are playing tag on our deads. Allowance to shoot?” This came more like an advance notice than a question. As much as Shepard would like to see the other woman kill that turian, she gently touched Ashley’s arm. “It’s okay, Chief. We get it sorted out.”

“Come clean, Nihlius. You knew about this attack?”. Shepard demanded to know “No, not really. We knew that Saren had gone rogue and somehow made the geth to follow him. I was tasked with taking him down, but I lost his trail a few months ago when I run into an asari justicar.” “What?”, that one came from Alenko. “Long story.”, Nihlus continued, “Though, I figured Saren was looking for prothean artifacts. This discovery on Eden Prime posed an opportunity. I was confident, Saren couldn’t resist.” To Shepard this made sense, however, she couldn’t say so in front of the other humans. “You used our civilians as bait? That’s low, Nihlus. You should have warned us”, she said instead, already knowing the answer. “If I had warned the Alliance, Saren wouldn’t have come out of his hiding-hole.” Exactly. "What’s next, Commander”, Lieutenant Alenko demanded to know. “That’s simple, LT. We have our assignment. Chief Williams, this is the dig-site but where is the beacon?” “It was moved to a space-port nearby this morning, Ma’am. We were told the Fleet would be coming to pick it up.” “Right, that would have been us.”, said Shepard. “So, that’s where we’re heading. You coming with us, Nihlus?” “I move faster on my own.”, the turian said and left. Time to move on.

As they approached the port, the marines saw that other colonists had not been as lucky as those they had saved from the geth. The geth had built some kind of parkway by placing spikes left and right along the road. On each spike, a human was impaled. Strangely, those bodies already had started to decay even though their death must have been just a few hours ago. Shepard had stopped counting them when passing number forty-nine and fifty. They were marching in the middle of the road, spikes left and right. No one spoke. When they had reached what seemed to have been the center of that ‘plantation’ a metallic creaking run up and down the road with which all spikes were retracting. The bodies on them started fidgeting. “Oh my God”, Kaidan shouted, “they’re still alive.” Mechanically Shepard was barking orders “Defensive position! Williams right flank! Alenko left flank! Jenkins on my six! Move it, man! Make ready!” This looked like a scene from one of those ancient zombie-movies Shepard had loved to watch in secret when she was twelve. However, in those old movies, the zombies limbed around slowly. These here run at an incredible speed. And this was for real! Ashley had already started firing when Shepard’s adrenaline rush kicked in. Those husks became slower and slower to Shepard. Shooting them now was no problem. Her rifle, on the other hand, didn’t have a “rush” and quickly overheated. Shepard didn’t bother with holstering it on her back but simply dropped it and drew a pistol. With her Cobra X, she gunned down the last four husks coming in her direction.

If Shepard hadn’t been so focused on the enemy in front of her, she might have noticed that there was a considerable gap between Jenkins and Alenko. The Lieutenant could only take down so many husks with his biotics, but at one point Jenkins got swarmed and overrun. In general, Shepard was more “sensible” than other people. And during a rush, her senses were even more refined. That way she was able to feel the husk charging towards her back. She turned around, raised her weapon, shot. It was a mess. Some hundred of those creatures were lying all around. They must have been colonists before but didn’t look human anymore. Jenkins was dead. So was Nihlus: they found him further down the road. He too was swarmed by husks, and on his own, he never had a chance.

The space-port was deserted. No geth, no husks, no Saren. To Shepard's great surprise, the beacon was still there. Why would Saren go such lengths for a prothean relique only to leave it behind? The beacon seemed to be emitting some kind of electrical field. Shepard could feel it, Alenko and Williams not. She carefully touched the beacon. Suddenly the ground under her disappeared and she fell through open space. She screamed but couldn’t hear it. Shepard rushed through star systems, passed suns, planets, and space stations of strange designs. She didn’t recognize any of it. However, in one moment she had passed a station that looked like the Citadel, even though its arms were closed. ‘Why am I not dead?’ She gained more speed when approaching a planet. When Shepard entered its atmosphere, she braced herself to be smashed on the ground. This didn’t happen. Instead, Shepard suddenly was lying on her back gazing at a sky. It had two suns. She felt exhausted but unharmed. Some kind of buzzing was to be heard in the distance. Shepard got up and saw giant metal cockroaches moving between buildings in the distance. They were shooting red beams at something on the ground. She turned around and found herself face to face with an alien. It had four eyes, but was no batarian, blue skin but was no asari. The alien touched Shepard’s forehead with two of its three fingers. She could hear its voice inside her head: “Warn your cycle, primitive: the reapers are coming.”

#mass effect #eden prime #commander shepard #femshep #ashley williams #kaidan alenko #richard l. jenkins #nihlus kryik #saren arterius #geth

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le-petitmort · 5 years

Text

Ye olde smut time machine II

***Back in the day I wanted to prove I could write any genre of erotica. Of course, I did. Here's a tidbit of my take on a sadistic psycho dominatrix with multiple personality disorder. Enjoy. ***

He had a noticeably Estonian first name, with a surname which made me reminisce of a prodigious, departed stranger from a winter’s night tryst in Bruges. A marbled chest, of which The Louvre was unworthy and that smile. That smile which screamed “rape whistle, where are you!?” Inhibitions to the wayside in the name of conquest and danger.

Yet why worry? As always my trusty girl, the dagger of my dreams was by my side. “Baby Doll I love you.” No silly, it wasn’t this dusky manchild baying his affection in a not very subtle attempt to woo and conquer. It was Karo, La Karolina, adjusting unblemished eyeshadow before sliding my crimson tipped index and middle finger over each faultless framing brow. One soft luxuriant palm dropped to pat the pearl encrusted handle of the trusted dagger at my hip. ‘Baby doll, I love you.” A girl and her poniard should never be underestimated.

I had allowed my suitor to accompany me home. Coy moves along the way ensued. He would twirl me into his arms. A dip low enough for my highlighted tips to nearly touch the filth of the sidewalk below. Natch, you naughty boy. As much pleasure as you seem to take in your own personal grooming, treat the Goddess with respect. It was as if he could read my mind. Chiseled forearms steadied me back atop my stilettos.

Slam, I crushed him against the nearest brick wall. Looking into his filled with shock eyes I bit hard at his collarbone. An abrupt release of my incisors from his salty skin followed.“A love bite, lover.” No sense in being bashful, my mouth attacked his. Voracious, open mouthed seductions between two tongues. He was smitten. I was decisive.

Back at the Palais de Figaro I asked that he make himself comfortable. By comfortable I meant shirtless. I made my way towards the bar. One of those girlish saunters that sent the finest of my assets swaying for his delight. U’luvka vodka was in order. On the rocks. The humorous thing about U’luvka is that in my mother’s native tongue, Polish, it quite literally means legless. My head tipped in a ponderous moment. I wonder what this manly piece of cheesecake would look like legless?

Would it be like the odd little knight in the Monty Python movie. Filled with a false bravado as each limb separated from torso? Or would he succumb to his failure? Sobbing a mournful bale of regrettable sadness at his impending doom. Begging for his last breaths to be taken by the shiny, delicate blade of Baby Doll. Fuckwit.

Slim fingers silently searched into the bartop drawer, identifying an small folded envelope whose contents were emptied in a slight of hand motion into loverboy’s drink. Stir and prepared. I made the same coquettish steps back towards my new man, handing over his tumbler, then dropping to my knees.

I sipped at the glorious clear liquid while my free hand latched to his buckle. Chin lifting I urged, “Drink my lover. Pić oraz moją miłość.” A tender smile cracked before dropping my head to engulf the incessant growth of his virile manhood.

Some say it’s all in the wrist motion. That light twist and grasp as your head bobs ruby lips and porcelain teeth to graze past the coursing with blood veins of his shaft. There is the requisite gasp before beginning. “It’s so large Baby! Can I even fit it in my mouth? Oh my?” That’s right before you go deep, burying your nose into the musky essence of his mons pubis. For effect I will allow him the auditory pleasure of my gagging, as if I were a trashy porngraphic harlot. Yes, big boy. Roll your fingers through my hair, scrunching it, messing it up, ruining it, you indignant fuck.

I pull back, a faux heaving breath as the trail of my spittle dangles precarious like an Amazonian bridge in the wind from my pouted lower lip to bulbous head of his cock. Deft digits pump at the shaft, I go back to work, head jackhammering over his rigid molten shaft until my tresses cascade back like a winged phoenix behind me. Breathe. Assess.

There we go little boy. Those kind eyes are beginning to falter. Lids drooping like the shades of my bedroom window when the perv next door removes his trash, standing at the curb far too long for my liking. I give a shake of his once proud, now diminishing cock. A suitable result, enough to plaster a smirk to my face. I rise, towering between his spread legs as he falls faster towards slumber, arm stretch to swipe away the remains of his drink. Then I spit. Not once but twice. A projectile towards his weak shriveled wanker and one to his cheek. Lotharios are not made to be loved.

Used is their purpose. I watched his jaw draw slack and the first audible snores, throaty and masculine. Good enough for me. With my own drink now in hand I retired to the den, snatching the remote from the mahogany coffee table and tuning in the DVR for a marathon of Young and The Restless. Time was on my side. 1:14 AM.

Three hours of that inglorious bastard Victor Newman later I returned to my sweet prince. If a daily regimen of pilates, crossfit and yoga have done anything for me it’s made this slim, flexible body more than just a fuck toy. It’s made capable of taking care of any situation and more than capable of heaving twice my weight across lean shoulders for the fifty seven steps towards my pleasure room. Stilettos included, because no pain, no gain and balance training is unf.

My heart rate bumped a slight acceleration in what turned out to total fifty nine steps with this lumpy sack of potatoes slung over me. Was it lumpy or was it the cut definition of his rigid abdomen and toned like Adonis pectorals? Clinically speaking as a physician I must err towards the latter.

With a thud I dropped Mister Beef to the safety and comfort of the adjustable examination table. His jeans were thigh high like a lingerie on a Victoria's Secret model, easing my ability to yank them away for the proverbial toss to the corner out of sight. I liked him better this way. As he was brought into this world and how he, time and date dependent upon my mood, would depart from it.

The task of moving him into place went by with ease. I took time to marvel at his feet as I strapped them into the stirrups. Hairless with a crescent curve to the instep leading down to the display of his obvious penchant for pedicures. Pretty nails deserve to be painted. Twisting my head back towards the clock, 4:47 AM. Time enough to pretty up my pretty boy.

In all of my lust induced revelry I had failed to notice the one predominant trait of my newfound friend. Tattoos. Yuck. No rhyme or reason to them. Now, as an educated woman I understand we all have the right to choice. Yet, these. These were random with no story to tell other than possibly a bad decision on drunken night. I am an artist of pain. Preference is given to a clean canvas. Tonight I would take the sullied, and revile him further for poor choices. Whether he could hear me or not.

I sucked in a long, tedious breath through the nostrils of my perfect button nose. “Relax Karolina. Oddychać Karo.” My entertainment had yet to begin and already I was becoming a manic mess.

“He wants to enjoy your gift Karolina.” I walked beside my paramour, finger sweeping away errant hairs from his brow. “How serene you look my lover. At peace. Rested in wait for me to give myself to you.” I clutched each thick wrist in a firm hold, a brusk yank over his head to bind them encased in supple brown leather cuffs. “So pretty. So, so pretty my beautiful boy.”

Six o’clock came and went, the golden sun rising in the east as I stripped and adjourned to the sanctity of my poolside patio. Saturday morning meant Ashtanga yoga. Strenuous poses performed rapid fire between exhale and inhale. Vigorous and absolute focus like the steeled eye of a killer. Perspiration beaded upon my golden skin. Sensual drips sliding over me in a cascade as I bent myself into a fevered pitch. “Namaste Karolina. Namaste.”

Namaste is a word which I love because it has a rough English translation of “Bow to you.” I’ve never been known as one to bow but, I have a sincere appreciation for those who do. Bow to me, that is. My benevolent and guiding hand will lead them along their path. Is it towards righteousness? Hardly. I only deal in the sinners. The wanton. The divisive. The scum. “I, Karolina Figaro, born upon this earth of Italian and Polish heritage seek the guidance of our lord and savior in purging the earth of misdeeds until I take my last living breath. Amen.” I am a proponent of spirituality.

Spirituality and grooming. Mi amore would soon begin to awaken, becoming aware that our tryst to his delight would continue through the daylight hours. Lucky man. To have me catering to sexual needs. Bringing him hurtling toward crescendoed skyrockets of orgasmic bliss.

I cracked two eggs on the skillet waiting until they began to congeal and covered them to baste. A girl needs her protein and from dripped taste of my inamorato I needed a little something more. Breakfast complete I climbed the stairs to the bright lights and mirrors of my elegant white dressing room. A pop in the shower cooled my skin as I adjusted the jets, soon adjusting the water temperature higher until steam billowed at my feet, flowing lazy cloud-like circles above me. “Heaven. this must be heaven.” My mind clicked. “The time Karo. Damn it you insolent child. You have a visitor waiting!”

“Get ready girl. Get ready. Now ragazza stupida!” I could hear the stern voice of my childhood governess chiding me. I felt mortal, small, as weak and low as a meaningless insect. “Yes ma’am. I’m sorry ma’am.” I rushed ahead preparing myself and in the tradition of a fine Figaro woman, making myself a stunning display of feminity for my man. My man. I couldn’t even remember his name now. Just those god awful, disgusting gutter trash tattoos. Freak! You freak!

Penciling mascara around my luminous sapphire orbs brought me back on pointe. Babycakes was sure to be up, groggy no doubt but, awaiting me. I did the final preparations, sliding on only a pair of six inch Louboutins and flew towards the stairs. Hey, I needed the shoes. Don’t judge. Extra height, leverage, kinky fuckery. A man appreciates a lady in heels.

As I approached the room I slowed my pace. Stay confident Karolina. He’s going to love you. How can he not!? “You fucking whore bitch!” It was the first words uttered from his foul mouth in hours.

I felt hurt. troubled by his verbal lashing “Baby, is that any way to talk to me after all I’ve done to take care of you.” I rushed forward throwing my arms over his straining physique.

“Let me out of here you fucking cunt.” He screamed. That word. The C word resonating like the chime of a bell tower. It was cause for me to withdraw my earnest goodwill and tidings.

“Cunt? Did you call me a cunt you pathetic excuse for a mammal.” My hand cracked splintered pain across his cheek, a gob of my spit meteoric in travel towards his eye. “You sub-human piece of shit.”

Thankfully, my examination table is well stocked. I threw open a drawer, grabbed a ball gag, which in turn I jammed in his vulgar mouth. “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all darling.”

He truly did look like a Greek Olympian or Roman gladiator. Dark skin and solid muscles struggling against his restraints, fighting as if he were in a colosseum battling to the death. I could imagine him a victor valiant. A Goddess bestowing an olive frond upon his head. Then I remembered that he had called me a cunt in a not so nice tone.

“Time for your examination.” I sing songed the words just as I had when I was a lowly Johns Hopkins resident working with underprivileged pediatric patients. “Don’t you worry now lovely. Everything will be alright. Doctor Figaro is going to take wonderful care of you. Loving care.” Reaching into the still open drawer I slipped on a pair of latex gloves before grabbing a fresh tube of lubricant.

I gave my swain a benevolent smile hoping to subside his pain. “Don’t be embarrassed now. I’ve done this many time before.” The lube squirted onto my fingertip, thick and clear. “Let me warm it slightly.” Rolling it over my finger I felt the substance lighten then dropped my hand between his sinewy thighs.

Index pressing at the tight balloon knot between his bubbled buttocks, I began to circle clockwise. Urging, coaxing him to loosen. To not resist like a burdensome baby. I spoke with stern authority. “Let me slide it in. Do not make me force it.” I could feel his ass cheeks clamp together harder. Frustrating little shit. My free palm rose. Not one crack, not two, nor three. Five solid and crushing slaps to his limp little scrotum had Mister Gorgeous hearing my message loud and clear.

The barked order flew forth. “Push outward. It slides in easier if you push like you’re taking a shit. God! Everyone knows that idiot!” I grasped those reddened balls like low hanging grapes and twisted. “Stop being a little bitch. You want this as much as me.”

There it was. A slip past that first ringed muscle. Twirling my finger I began the process of loosening his insides as he groaned. “Delightful isn’t it?” I queried, accompanied by an eager smile. “There we go.” The digit slid deeper, his flaccid cock beginning to grow. “Mmm, you really do like it you naughty boy.” Loverboy’s hips jutted then instinctively clenched at my words. His bony hips lowering flat as an iron, in a thinly veiled attempt to subdue any further delving inside his virgin back door. It was time to help him find pleasure.

Grasping his excited tumescence, I began with languid strokes. Base to tip, insuring my thumb ran over that bundle of nerves under the head which would set his head spinning in sensual erotic craving. “There we go. Let it go. Let your hips rise to each stroke like you’re fucking my mouth. Close your eyes. Imagine us making sweet love in the ocean. Blissful waves crashing over us. Envision how you want to come inside me. Claim me. Make me yours.” His panting and engorged cock was the clue. He was soon to explode jets of his seed, like a fountain, spraying across that hot heaving six pack. “Stop!’ I quit pleasuring him and discontinued the enraptured loosening of his backside.

Sure that he wasn’t going to waste a drop I restarted on his ass. A withdrawal brought two fingers into play, scissoring his sphincter as he gasped in gratification. “Feels so good, doesn’t it? To get your boy pussy finger fucked? Do you want to be taken? Fucked?” the words were but a murmur from my lips. His consent evident in the higher, responsive thrusts.

I managed to step to the side of the table without missing a beat. Pulling from the drawer a heavy, black eight inch strap-on. I believe I heard an incessant no but, no means yes when you make love to a beautiful woman.

The harness slid up my slender, shapely legs. The same legs which many a man had worshipped and which would forcibly guide us towards a climactic denouement. Another squirt of lube and I tossed my soiled gloves, beginning to oil my own phallus before leaning forward to place it at his randy hole.

“Do you want to fuck baby?”

He shook his head vigorously.

“Do you want to get off?”

The shake continued.

“Let me pop that cherry and you can return the favor. Maybe. I’ll let you bathe me with that nasty tongue. Call your Daddy. Be your nasty little slut.”

Like that, the imagery of retaking his rightful place as a man overtook all thought process. My faux cock driving further into his milking, constrictive depths. His cock reacted to the prodding. That lightning bolt as the rubber thundered at his prostate. I could sense the tingle flashing throughout his body. That insidious, body enveloping way, much like hitting my own g-spot, which could make him squirt a cascade of his sinful juices. Withdrawal time.

I slipped back and held before pushing forward rhythmical. An insistent rocking motion as I latched to his hips. My pointy nails dug into the epidermis of his skin, ripping coarse gashes of pain that made his howls grow between the cosmic satisfaction of my downstrokes in his fiery little fuck hole. I was making him my decadent squirming bitch and he was all in. Hot.

My own salacious enjoyment could not be denied. Head falling, sweeps of hair a metronomic brush across my back. Feral moans emitted as I cupped my flushed perky tits providing a forceful twist to the coral pebbles. A storm of release was brewing. The sensation of touch like mind addling drugs to the overexcited nerves between my supple thighs.

“Say my name. Say Karolina. Say you want me to own your boy cunt.” I pounded harder.

“Say my name bitch. Say Karolina I adore. I love you Karolina. I am yours Karolina.” Nothing but tedious groans. Those tight nuts were back in hand in a nanosecond. Squeezing and caressing the fertile life out of them.

“No coming.” My eyes pierced through his. Into his cuckolded soul.

“Karolina.” I grunted guttural. “Say, you are my Goddess Karolina.”

And he did. Profusely exclaiming his assent to my commands with wide eyes and mumbled, gargling words. He was into our rite of passion. His body bucking, jerking on the edge of a stars shooting through the sky explosion of desire. Which is when I reached for the tray next to me, grabbed my beloved Baby doll, pressing down hard until his jugular bulged.

“Fuckwit.”

A sudden sound erupted behind me. Steel clanking a loud clatter as I became bathed in the glow of white light. My neck jerked, eyes hazy on the fevered edge of carnal obsession.

“Figaro..time for your lineup.” Those fucking dyke jailers. This dream was too good to be true. Oh, but soon. Soon enough I would be back on the street. Mommy said so. But, only the guilty do sleep in jail.

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breadcrumbsandmaps · 6 years

Text

Found in an old notebook, written sometime between 2002-2005

*transcribed as originally written with all the shitty mistakes*

The rain stung my face. It was a freezing Five Celsius out and the wind was blowing at a good Forty-Five km/h, making the coat I had on just about as useless as a hard boiled cirrus cloud. To be honest I don’t know what it means either, my friend had never bothered to explain the metaphors he used and when you’re around someone like Jimmy Katzaniel for long enough you pick up parts of that person’s vernacular. All the catch phrases, euphemisms, vulgarities, slang, you name it you got it (whether you wanted it or not was a different story).

I’ve digressed a bit though. My brain tends to wander these days-ever since the “incident.” I’ll try to concentrate more. Where was I? Oh yes...waffles, I was on my way to get waffles, it was December...seventh...in the year of our lord Nineteen hundred and forty one, so I was on my way to get these golden brown waffles-the big Belgium kind that comes with a free stomach pump and a gallon of that pink stuff that tastes of sodium saccharine and chalk. I swear to god the local “Wafflery” has the best...the best...um...oh no...that’s wrong. I wasn’t on my way to any Wafflery of sorts and the date is also incorrect.

Apparently I had started talking to myself. In the process I had altogether stopped moving. I started walking again, pulled out the crinkled paper package of tobacco, slid one into my mouth, and lit it. I enjoyed the nicotine and “Genuine Dirt Flavor” for a few brief puffs before the rain decided that smoking is a bad habit. I kept the useless sin stick in my mouth. I’ll put it back into the paper container later. It was good to keep a cigarette that went bad because if some ass asked you for a spare you give him the dud and enjoy a good one.

I guess I should mention I’m a sociopath, I don’t empathize with other humans. I have no need for empathy and in this line of work it’s the sort of thing that can get you killed. I checked to make sure my piece was still secured to the interior of my coat. Only trust your weapon 25 percent, because if you don’t have the necessary skills to survive no weapon will make any difference. The Vikings believed that you should always charge into battle because there was a certain day that you would die, no matter what you did you’d die on that day. The Vikings are idolized, made into gods, considered great.

The thing people overlook is the Vikings were just people trying to get by, like anyone else. I however, am loathed and feared. I like my job though; I like to know I’ve left a lasting Impression on people’s lives-and their children’s and their friends and societies as well. Most people see the movies and think my kind goes in there guns blazing wasting everyone in the room not taking a hit, with some cool zany catch phrase. Reality is boring compared tot he movies. Well except law and order.

Law and Order is kind of close to reality, but it’s all the cool parts just mashed into one giant orgasm. Take for example when they read the verdict “We the jury find the defendant..........guilty of murder one, fire up the fryer this guy’s ganna die.” In reality a verdict is much more boring “We the jury find the defendant guilty on penal code 203 section 84 for obstruction of justice and disregard to the onset of halitosis within the boundaries of the set parameter” on for a hundred counts of boredom. I could seriously watch that show...for...oh damn it, damn it all to hell I bloody stopped walking again.

Seriously, I knew that quack messed with me, but I didn’t realize the extent to which he did. I’ll explain. See two years ago I woke up in a black van, conscious but paralyzed-couldn’t even blink.The van stopped at some point and several guys who look like swat team members and four men in white lab coats opened the doors and carried me inside an elevator and we descended into the depths of hell. To summarize I think I spent about a month down there. Injections, beatings, torture, surgery, forced feedings, degradation and some quack who would ask me how I felt and would tell me what they were trying to do was what there was to my life for that month. Some freak cult, I lost my memories or what happened before I had come there.

They had Video taped and documented everything from the van forward. One day I had woken up and everything was different. There were bodies around, blood and entrails splashed on the walls like some modern art painting. There were bullet holes, slash marks, fire damage, craters-it didn’t take a genius to figure out that something bloody powerful stormed through here. Even though I knew whoever or whatever did all this might still be around I was damn hungry. I stayed for a while in these catacombs eating the left over food and water that was around.

Turns out there had been a whole colony of these freaks living in this huge underground complex. Whatever they were doing they had pissed something or some organization off pretty badly. I went through documentation and videos, map schematics, none of it seemed too interesting. I said I’d lost my memories of before the van, maybe I should clarify, I lost my memories of who I was and what I’d done, but not of my understanding of what things are. My collection of nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs and the like was completely in tact.

I’d wager they destroyed selective parts of my brain. Although I soon discovered why the reading I had done wasn’t too interesting. I had come across a few large bonfire pits filled with remains of diskettes, papers, books, CDs, Audio and Video Cassettes, none of it any use. I salvaged some money, clothing, and a few weapons from this tomb. There were about 30 levels to this place (felt like 100) as I climbed the stairs. I figured better the stairs than trust the elevator considering the condition of the place. Every single level had been decimated and no one spared.

I don’t imagine I had always been a sociopath, or maybe I was and this was why I was selected by them, lord only knows. If you had only visited the ground floor this would appear to be a normal building, everything was in pristine condition, no bodies, no people, and no signs of a savage battle. If it was an “office” front then the attack may have happened when the office was closed, or the attackers herded the people downstairs. Either way I was glad that the people below me were now ready for Mother Nature to recycle them.

The good thing about an extensively long flashback is that by the time I finished with it I was standing at the restaurant where my hit was. I walked in, shook off the rain and walked over to the hostess.

“Table for one.”

She seemed surprised by my presence and had a bit of disgust in her eye. Maybe it was because she was a pretty young woman and I was a bit gruesome to look at. She forced a smile and in a politeness that could only be described as false, replied

“I’m sorry sir but we’re...”

She went on about something or another, reservations, private party. I wasn’t really listening. I had on dark glasses and was scanning the customers for my target. I confirmed his presence and noted he was getting up in a hurry and made his way for a room. Now was my chance, he was running to the bathroom for the love of bladder. In this time the young hostess had finished her spiel.

“Oh ok.” (I said in acknowledgement that a table would be impossible) “But perhaps you could be so kind as to let me use your restroom.”

I had caught her off guard with my acceptance of what she had said. She had seemed ready to put up a fight. I’m a sociopath remember, not an asshole. She agreed and pointed me in the direction. I nodded in thanks and made a little jog to the little boy’s room. No one else was in there except for me and the one I had to dispose of. He was preoccupied urinating. I locked the door with such skill he did not notice. I waited a few seconds to finish up and shake. Before he could even zip up his vertebrae had been severed. God had not simply intended for us to turn out necks much more than 90 degrees left or right; a fact that I helped my friend understand with a small demonstration. I pulled down his pants and boxers and placed him in a stall.

I opened the bathroom door and walked out of the restaurant Thanked the bubbly hostess and disappeared into. It’s better when you don’t have to use a gun or a knife. What I did tonight is best described as a clean kill. No blood, no direct witnesses and a body that may not be found for a half hour. Funny thing is that in life the people you know are more likely to harm you than strangers are. Well it may not be too funny but, it’s the truth at least.

I was hungry so I set off again in this bastardly weather in the hopes of finding a Wafflery or some sort of confection outlet at least. Tomorrow I’d go to the boss and get paid. 10K a hit, a few hits a year and you have a nice life. People have this misconception that the assassin is out there every night killing people and not making any money. Like some sort of psycho, Al Paccino, guy. Nah we’re all humans just trying to get by in life. Tobacco companies kill thousands, and few complain.

Death is a part of life. It’s not something I myself even entirely understand. I somehow seem to think it does not apply to me that I merely deal it to those whose time it is to receive it. Sometimes I think I’m alone in this universe and that everything only exists for me. It usually gets weird when I’m lying i bed just thinking about it. A failed experiment I view this world as, something that has no purpose, reason, rhyme or metre. I wonder if there’s a heaven or a hell sometimes and if eternity would get boring. I can’t picture an eternity in this life.

Other times I feel like I’ve lived my life an infinite number of times. I wonder about reincarnation and what not. I’m not too many people think about this stuff but I think about it a lot, it drives a person crazy thinking about their mortality. I knew this girl...and...oh...I’ve done it again. I’ve gotten side tracked again well I was doing good for a while. But hell what can you say. I guess this is the end of our journey, for now. Have a good night my mysterious friend.

#old #story #hitman #sociopath #wtf #writing #write #me #love #waffles #inspire

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romancevsreality-blog · 6 years

Text

vanderpump rules, season six, episode four: if you get mcdonalds delivered to your house get out of my life

I truly believe this week’s opening song crooner is the worst yet. Imagine Ariana Grande’s voice, but without the passionate depth? Also, it defintely makes the least amount of sense - “When we fall, we never mind, mind, mind?” I FUCKING MIND. As a person who falls a lot - and not even in the charming romantic comedy kind-of-way - I’m reaching the age where if I fall, I’m genuinely concerned for my personal safety. I sprained my tailbone over the summer and ever since then I’m convinced I need a LifeAlert bracelet or else it’s over for me.

We’re at Jax and Brittany’s apartment, and there’s a sleeping dog1 and it’s 12:07 pm. Brittany, Katie Baloney, and Scheana are all just rising for the day. Stassi walks in and cracks a beer, and we learn that the previous night’s Let’s Burn Jax To The Ground Yearbook Signing Party moved its way to Brittany’s apartment and went well into the morning. Katie’s gushing over Tom Schwartz for whatever reason, and Stassi had Taco Bell delivered.

Okay, I don’t get that.

Like, the idea of getting McDonalds or Burger King or any kind of Shame Food delivered to my apartment feels like rock bottom for me. I can’t imagine spending enough money at any of those places to justify having it delivered to me. Then again, I haven’t had Taco Bell since I left Detroit, so. Maybe there’s just something I’m missing?

Scheana asks Brittany if she’s still joining her and Lala on a private jet to Vegas. We never get a response because Katie feels the need to get all sanctimonious about Lala’s “sugar daddy married boyfriend”. He’s not married, they’re separated, and Katie still can’t shut her damn mouth about Lala. I just can’t imagine being the kind of person who’d get upset when someone spreads their generosity around. Who cares how Lala got the private jet? She asked Scheana and Brittany to join her, and that’s nice.

Can we go back to not having Katie on our screens again? It’s bad enough that her turtle glasses match her leopard/turtle wristlet tattoo

Oh, hello, Villa Rosa! Hello swans! Hello Toms! Apparently they listened to “Lose Yourself” by Eminem to pump themselves up for this meeting because… okay, honestly, “Lose Yourself” hits hard at a certain time and place, but also these dudes are basically Michael Phelps. I don’t know what would have made me roll my eyes harder, them saying this, or like, A Tribe Called Quest’s “Scenario.”

Who am I kidding - these boys don’t know who A Tribe Called Quest is. Busta Rhymes to them is the guy from The Rugrats Movie soundtrack who did that song with Chris Brown2.

They’re nervous, and Lisa and Ken are lounging, covered in dogs, lying in wait for the Toms. Lisa’s narrating what’s going on between them, and says unless they’re showing some sort of enthusiasm, she’s out. The Toms also happened to have gone pretty hard the night before under the guise of “helping Jax”. When has “helping Jax” ever worked out for anyone?! Needless to say, our boys are hungover. Lisa asked if they got lost between the gate and the house as soon as she sees them. Right now, Lisa’s not feeling the partnership because she’s concerned about their negativity. She wants their commitment - both in emotion and in money. $120,000 for 10% of the restaurant. They’re both hesitant because das a lot of money.

Lisa’s not negotiating, either. Schwartz wants $50,000 each for 5% of the restaurant, and suddenly I wonder why Lisa Vanderpump isn’t on Shark Tank.

CAN I JUST GET THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF SHARK TANK? Imagine: Sonja Morgan pitching her toaster ovens to Kevin O

’Leary, Bethenny, Notorious Billionaire Entrepreneur And Outspoken Owner Of The Dallas Mavericks Mark Cuban, Mauricio Umansky, and Kandi Burruss.

Bravo, give me a call.

Lisa and Ken are okay with that. They’re partners. All Lisa wants is enthusiasm, positivity, and their money. That’s all!

Scheana asks if Jax is ever coming back to the apartment, and as soon as that happens, he walks in and he’s immediately pissed. He’s mad that the girls are there, the house is a mess, people are dying of cancer, he’s mad because he’s 450 years old and he just wants to be in his own home. Jax says Brittany isn’t as devastated as she’s claiming and she’s milking it all for attention, and Brittany flips. Because that’s a fucked up thing to say. You don’t get to hurt people and then criticize how they cope, Jax. You don’t get to hurt people and tell them how to react to you, Jax. You just don’t get to hurt people, Jax. I don’t blame Brittany for trying to kick him out of their apartment. He came in hot and they weren’t doing anything to him except sitting there, breathing. He feels like he’s been ambushed and Stassi’s right when she points out that he’s just pointing fingers at them to deflect blame for his fuck up by lying to her by omission about Faith. He continues to tell her she can’t tell him how to behave in his own house while trying to tell her how to behave in her house and sees zero irony in any of that.

Brittany’s hurt, and she told him how she was going to react to it - she was going to lose her mind and be upset for a while and she didn’t want to talk to him about it. He’s not listening to her. Jax really just doesn’t care about Brittany’s feelings whatsoever - he’s more focused on covering his own ass. He needs the validation that comes from cheating and the validation that no matter how terribly he treats her, his partner will continue to allow this cycle of abuse to continue.

WE GET TO HEAR T.I.P3 while Tom and Tom cruise and celebrate their new partnership. I mean, I just love the idea of someone using their own music as hype music. They’re just hoping they don’t disappoint Lisa Vanderpump, which won’t be hard considering who they are. Sandoval gets a call from Ariana, who is very busy and important so she won’t be able to take time out of her day to leave and have sex with Tom Sandoval. It’s okay, Schwartz is offering Katie up if Sandoval’s interested, and I have never wanted anything less in my entire life.

The Toms return to Katie and Tom’s apartment, where Stassi and Baloney are hanging out. The Toms come in and basically do my favorite thing (no) which is when people have good news and pretend like they have bad news. No one is so on edge that they care as much as you two do about this. Sandoval’s like, “Yeah, it’s a bummer I might not be working at Sexy Unique Restaurant in a few months because we’re OPENING A BAR!!!!!” And Schwartz is just happy that in his thirties someone decided to give him a restaurant. Fairly certain Schwartz has no idea how the world actually operates. Then again, the only job he’s ever had was 90 minutes at PUMP before he had to leave, so.

Katie’s just so happy that Tom seems to be making an investment into the future instead of spending all of their money on video games and differing apparatuses from which to drink beer. Katie’s just happy that the guy she married because he was hot is actually trying to be an adult for the first time in his thirty-something years of existence.

Cool Girl Ariana comes over to Scheana’s apartment, where Scheana is packing for Vegas and I’m pretty sure i have her entire outfit and have worn it relatively recently. I’m a big fan of oversized flannel shirts and like, mini dresses. Ariana asks Scheana what happened in the morning at Jax’s. Ariana’s bummed she missed Brittany taking a swing at Jax, and honestly at this point, he’s so old that a light breeze might knock him over and he’ll shatter into a million cocaine-filled pieces.

Queen Lalar comes over wearing a shirt covered in drawings of her face and my heart swoons. Lalar’s been juicing so her Summer Body is ready for Vegas. They’re taking a private jet provided by Lalar’s boyfriend. I love Lala’s logic as to how she gets on private jets - if you’re not ugly and have tits, you can get on a private jet. I actually can’t understate how true that is. I mean, not speaking from personal experience, but honestly, if I knew someone with a private jet, I don’t think it would be hard to convince them to take me to like, Chicago4. Lala tells Ariana and Scheana she got her job back, and Scheana’s like, “Katie’s talking about your boyfriend again.”

Lala immediately gets heated and starts making fun of Katie because let’s be real - Katie’s not mad that Lala’s boyfriend was separated and started dating a younger girl, Katie’s mad that she married a dude with zero ambition and her looks couldn’t get her an older dude with a jet. Sorry. Katie’s still maintaining the lie about Katie, and Lala’s like, “they all call me a homewrecker and I’m the one being accused of attacking people?” Lala says she’s gonna pop Katie if she continues to talk about it, because she thought they were cool now. And if Katie’s going to go low, so can Lala. She says that Tom Schwartz made out with her friend recently - as in while he was married to Katie5. Apparently when Katie was away in New York at some point, Tom was all over Lala’s friend Allie, calling her “bubba” and being all touchy-feely. Lala was like, “I wasn’t gonna say shit but then she came for me first, so. Who cares if her life is ruined, that’s karma.”6 Ariana basically agrees to talk to Schwartz about it at Guillermo’s birthday.

Stassi’s at Villa Rosa, and Stassi’s running behind for prep for Guillermo’s surprise birthday, and guess what? Event planning is fucking hard. Colin Cowie and David Tutera make it look easy but every step of planning any kind of party (and don’t get me started on weddings) takes fifteen logistical steps to make sure things occur when they should. Oh, you want bows for your chairs? What color? Oh, that color doesn’t come in the fabric you chose. What fabric? Oh, that fabric only fits around certain types of chairs. Nothing about event planning is easy. Event coordination is even harder and I seriously have mad respect for anyone who makes that shit happen. Lisa gives Stassi her black AMEX and basically is like, “use this, don’t get into trouble.”

And then Stassi starts filling up her PrettyLittleThing and Missguided shopping carts.

Jax and Schwartz are at Society Kitchen, and honestly, the only reason that I would ever move to LA is that even their breakfast restaurants serve liquor at like, 8 AM. Also, that menu looks amazing. They order something called “fried guacamole” and Jax shames Schwartz into picking french fries over a side salad. Schwartz acts like he’s never seen anything fried when the fried guacamole comes to the table, and I don’t know - the idea of biting into something brown and it being soft and green on the inside actually makes me kind of nauseous. But then again, I don’t have an orgasm every single time I think of an avocado like some people7.

Jax has been uninvited from working Guillermo’s party because Brittany’s working, too, but Jax, who is the inspiration for the 1938 play Gaslight, which is where the term gaslighting originated, had a chance to talk to her without the bias of her friends, and it seems like they’re at least a bit better now. Schwartz is like, “dude, were you not just about to move out like, two days ago? Give her time.” Honestly, I think if Brittany had moved out, Jax would have been fine with that and fine with them breaking up. He doesn’t want to do any work or put in any external effort, so they’re staying together because he just doesn’t want to deal with the stress of moving.

Schwartz gives the suggestion of a “don’t ask, don’t tell” kind of situation - aka, an open relationship between Brittany and Jax. And honestly, if Jax’s self-esteem wasn’t linked so deeply with his psyche, I would say that would be his ideal situation. But again, he cheats primarily for validation from his partner and from external sources - if you take the “betrayal” part out of it, it’s useless. The appeal is gone if you don’t get the drama or the attention out of it.

Meanwhile, Stassi’s like, “how do people work? Every day? How do they do things?’ Life funded by Instagram Sponsorships sounds great. Getting paid $5k to post a photo? How do I get this life? Stassi’s overwhelmed, but honestly, she seems to do a decent job of delegating. And when you’re event planning, 70% of the job is just pointing and telling people what to do while pretending everything’s okay8. Everyone’s there! Tom! Katie! Kristen! Ariana! Kristen’s weird non-factor boyfriend! Everyone has jackets gently draped over their shoulders because it’s LA, you don’t need an actual coat.

Katie, Kristen, Stassi, and Brittany (who is working, poor thing) are all standing around chatting. Kristen’s been doing this weird thing lately where she just like, fawns over her friends in this really strange, inauthentic way. She’s like, “Brittany, you always look like a Victoria’s Secret model, even when your boyfriend is being a huge fucking asshole.” It’s such a weird thing to say - not that I’m against complimenting people, but it feels so PLEASELIKEMEPLEASELIKEMEINEEDAJOBONTHISSHOWTOAFFORDMYLIFEPLEASEPLEASECAMERATIMEPLEASE. Brittany’s done talking about Jax, at least for the moment, and she wants to work through the entire situation by herself, and when she talks to her friends about it, she gets worked up and emotional and that’s not the easiest way to make decisions.

Again: Brittany is better than these people, and certainly better than me. I’m immensely emotional and very impulsive, and I have a tendency to try to hurt people when I feel they’ve hurt me. I often go to my friends not for advice, but to be a ranting sounding board, and it’s not a great quality. I’m aware of it. I’m working on it. But good for Brittany for being like, “I need to figure this all out on my own, thank you for supporting me in this endeavor.”

Jax meets DJ James Kennedy, LMFAO at some random bar, and the idea of just the two of them hanging out together alone makes me concerned for everyone else in that bar. I feel like just being around each other will create a super-STD. No sexual contact required, just their aromas is enough. I mean, they start with shots of absinthe, and I’m 100% sure none of the preparation shown is how one drinks absinthe. Like, absinthe is both amazing9 and disgusting10 but if not properly prepared it’s basically like drinking Draino. It takes a long time, and it’s a thorough process that literally requires something to DRIP for a while.

But then again these are garbage people with garbage taste so they don’t care, they’re there to get drunk on Pernod.

James takes his shot and it ain’t no thang. Jax takes his shot and I’m genuinely concerned for him becuse he’s 850 years old and 136-proof alcohol could literally kill him. And it basically does, but not enough for my liking. Effectively, Jax is basically Jason Bateman in this scene from Extract11. Old man, can’t keep up.

Back at Sexy Unique Restaurant, Stassi is lighting sparklers and we get another chance to celebrate a public-domain usage of “Happy Birthday”. The cake has edible flowers on it. Eurgh. Guillermo reminds Tom & Tom that it’s them next, and they better not fuck it up.

Ariana takes this moment to take Tom Schwartz aside, and we get the first appearance of my personal favorite location on this show, The Sexy Unique Restaurant Back Alley By The Motorcycles and A Dumpster. Ariana’s like “I’m really dreeeeading talking to you about this,” and meanwhile inside, Katie’s like, “Where’s my HUSBAND?” I literally hate Katie because I know she’s the girl who as soon as she got a ring, she stopped referring to her significant other by his name. No, she wants to make sure you know how special she is so he’s no longer “Tom,” he’s “My Fiance/Husband”. Ariana rips the Band-Aid off quickly and tells Tom that she heard about him making out with someone a few months back.

Tom immediately denies it, or at least is basically like, “Yeah, I don’t remember that night.” We’re reminded of the last time this happened, and that Tom has a track record of just getting blackout drunk and not knowing what he did. And yeah, Jax does it, but Schwartz… has a drinking problem. He drinks to get blacked out, and frequently. He denies his behavior but he also doesn’t remember anything about that night. Ariana’s like, “you need to deal with this. Now.”

Tom compares his drunken self to a werewolf, and it’s like he sees that as a good thing. Even in his talking heads he’s a mess. He looks like he just got out of court-ordered rehab and is going to see his probation officer after being on a bender.

Jax and James are taking snaps together and pretending like they’re wasted on absinthe. With the amount these two drink on a regular basis, they’re not getting wasted on two shots of absinthe. James tries to be like, “you know, absinthe is a hallucinogenic,” and they try to edit it like they’re sOoOoOO oUt Of It~ and it’s not. At least not in America. I wasn’t amused. Meanwhile, Brittany’s been hate-fucking Jax a lot lately, and Jax is fine with that becasue at least someone will still touch his old, craven, decrepit body. Jax basically describes the Madonna/Whore complex in which he wants a sweet, nice girl at home, and a ho in the streets. It’s not deep, Jax. Just because you just learned the word “complex” doesn’t make it deep.

Katie immediately senses that something’s up when Tom and Ariana arrive back at the party, and immediately inquires. Ariana’s like “SHUT. UP. TOM.” and Tom’s literally like, “Yeah, apparently I made out with some girl at a party a few months ago when I was soooooooo wasted.” Even the way he tells it sounds like he doesn’t take cheating on his wife seriously whatsoever. The look on Katie’s face is literally like, “I will stab this man with a cocktail stirrer.” As soon as Katie finds out Lala’s the one who told everyone, she gets upset, of course12.

Katie storms out with Kristen, and Stassi, Ariana, and Brittany chase after her. Stassi’s like, “why is this coming up NOW at my first party ever?” and doesn’t want to believe it considering the source was Lala, but as soon as Kristen says that Tom was the one who brought up the topic in the first place, you see the wheels in Stassi’s brain turning because she was so prepared to rail on Lala. Katie’s like, “What did I do to deserve this?” and I’m literally like, “How long do you have, Kathryn13?” Tom is so drunk when he comes out to talk to Katie, he’s like “don’t cry buuuuubbbbbbbaaaaaa”, and she’s like “What the fuck do you mean, don’t cry?”

Y’all know I try my very hardest to never be on Katie’s side when it comes to pretty much anything, but in this case, I’m on her side. Yes, there’s a part of me that probably knows that they manufactured this storyline because Katie got so much hate on social media that Tom decided to take the bullet for his wife this time, but also - he can’t stop doing this. He literally cannot stop cheating on her. She gives him freedom and he turns around and does this? I’m sure it’s not even about the making out part - it’s the constant embarassment and the fact that Tom cannot take any responsibility for his hand in any of his actions. Yes, you were blackout drunk, and you don’t remember it, but you did something during that time that was hurtful and harmful to someone you love. Why wouldn’t you take a moment for some introspection? Why wouldn’t you look at your drunken behavior and try to change it? He just seems so like, “Well, I was drunk so I don’t know if it really happened or not, I can’t take responsibility for something I was barely there for.” He really thinks because he can’t remember it makes it alright.

Katie yells, “Get it together. What is wrong with you?” and that is the appropriate response. He needs to be an adult. He needs to grow up. You’re a fucking married man in your thirties, Tom. Stop acting like every night is a frat party - that’s literally the fastest way to losing your looks, which we all know is the most important thing to you, because it’s what’s allowed you to continue being the emotionally-stunted immature puppy-boy we’ve been watching for six years. I don’t think he’s consciously trying to cheat, or wants to cheat on Katie or even not be with her. (I mean, he doesn’t want to be with her.) Even Lisa’s like, “What the FUCK, Tom? How can I trust you if you can’t even be trustworthy in your marriage?”

Katie’s embarrassed. And for the first time, it’s for a reason I agree with, and not her general… essence. Or those earrings.

Next Week: Scheana’s parched for Rob, but Rob’s out making out with everyone in Los Angeles. More of Schwartz vs. Katie. Jax and Brittany have a housewarming party. Lala’s there, and oh, she’s got audio recordings of Jax talking shit to Faith about Brittany.

Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:

Scheana looks completely gorgeous in that slate blue dress talking head. The most natural she’s looked in a very long time. I still can’t stand those claw nails with the nude nail polish, though.

TomTom is still an offensive name to me. I literally just get “Genius of Love” in my head.

Kristen, Kristen, Kristen. She looked a damn mess in this episode.

I marvel at the fact that these people’s lifestyles are totally ruining their bodies in ways we can’t even imagine but... are they all slurring their words a lot more now?

Why do I feel like their apartment is probably covered in dog shit? Like, pee pads everywhere? ↩︎

And they alllllllllll think they can do the Look At Me Now verse. ↩︎

Touch in Public is one of the best songs created by a Bravolebrity ever, come the fuck at me. ↩︎

Only to see Hillary, did you know we have a podcast? ↩︎

I was LIVING for Ariana’s face in this scene. She had the face of “oh god oh god oh god YES THIS IS SO JUICY oh god oh god” ↩︎

I hate how much I love Lala in this moment. She goes from 0-100 so quickly - but sometimes when you have a sore spot and someone pokes it, you gotta do what you gotta do. ↩︎

HOT TAKE: I think avocados are overrated and cabbage doesn’t get nearly enough respect. Red cabbage? Hot damn, shit's delicious. ↩︎

I was a host/maitre’d in restaurants for five years. I’ve never identified with anything as much as I have this comic. Sometimes I miss it and then I think about the worst nights I had in restaurants and I kind of spiral and thank god that I’m out. ↩︎

When I was in Prague for my study abroad, I bought a bottle of absinthe on my last night when I was hammered, packed it away, and then it shattered in my bag in transit. Everything I owned smelled like anise. Everything. ↩︎

Disgusting in that one of my worst hangovers was at an absinthe bar in Washington DC and sometimes just the smell of absinthe sends me right back there. Don’t mix tripels and absinthe. That is two high-alcohol drinks that should never be combined. Ever. That was the first time I ever took an Uber, though! Come to think of it, that night in Prague was a weird, gross hangover too. Maybe I need to stop drinking absinthe. PFFFFFFFFFFT, never. ↩︎

An underrated fucking brilliant movie. And the last time anyone could tolerate Ben Affleck in anything. ↩︎

I especially loved Sandoval rubbing his forehead in disappointment and saying, “this never would have happened under my watch.” If you have to treat your friends in the same way you treat an infant or a puppy, get new friends. ↩︎

I don’t know how Katie spells her full name but I’m assuming it’s like this. ↩︎

#vanderpump rules #vanderpump rules recap #lisa vanderpump #stassi schroeder #katie should be embarrassed tbh #rugrats #busta rhymes #HERE WE GO YO HERE WE GO YO #SO WHAT SO WHAT SO WHAT'S THE SCENARIO

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evelyn-fenton-blog · 6 years

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Mr. Busy

Fic including @brooks-schreave

I was bored. I just wanted to sleep. But I couldn’t sleep all the damn time. I have no friends. Everyone hates me, well everyone who knows me. I spilled a drink on Lady Eloise, I probably frightened Prince Nathaniel, I weirded out Prince Brooks, I insulted Jace.

I rolled over in my bed and decided to go to the one place where I knew I would feel safe. The library.

I hid from the world of the selection and entered the library only to be thrown into the path of one of those who I now thought hated me. Prince Brooks.

For a moment I watched him, he seemed very focused on whatever it was he was doing. The image gave me an idea.

A strict young man who was focused on bettering his life falls in love with a slightly goofy but inte-

No, I can’t even thinking of something like that while he has his glasses on. I always find glasses on people to be silly. He looked rather dashing in them though.

Finally, I decided to speak up.

“What on earth are you so into?” I asked with one hand on my hip.

To my surprise he closed the book as quickly as he could. What an awfully suspicious action.

“Nothing, just some work. Hi, how are you?” I bite the inside of my cheek. I may not seem like the best people person, but I always know when people are hiding something. What he has said is not the full truth. It may be work but there's a reason all he said was work.

“What kind of work is it? You seem a bit flustered to just be caught working.”

“It's top secret business.”

“Really? I'm surprised they'd let you handle something top secret. Would just a peak hurt too much?”

“Your retinas would burn off immediately.” I chuckled a bit at this statement.

“Yikes, sounds like something I should avoid looking at then. Why work in here instead of your room though?” I grilled. I hated liars.

“The materials aren't in my room and I don't want to check these out.”

“Really? What materials did you need?”

“Just some old books.” My eyebrows furrowed. I still felt he was lying by omission. But it was becoming clearly evident to me that he was not going to budge. I barely knew him after all, why would he. To avoid pestering him I should back down. Plus he seems like a decently trustworthy guy. I’ll trust his decision of not telling me, at least for now.

“Hmmmm...fine I'll let you off the hook. Just because any more questions and would get annoying. So how has your day been Prince Books.”

“Books? New name?”

“Obviously, it just fits so well.” I motioned to the surrounding books.

“You're like them, full of secrets and unknown stories. That and you smell nice.” Holy shit I shouldn’t have said that. Even if it’s true it’s WAY TO FLIRTY. I absolutely can not be flirting with the brother.

To my relief a smile grows on his face.

“Glad to hear it. Oh, and my day has been less than eventful.”

“I forgot I even asked that. So distracted by my comparison. Why? Too much working, too little play? That makes for a very dull man.”

He leaned back in his chair and played with his pencil. The action making me blush just a little bit at his smoothness.

“Would you call me dull?”

“Hmmmm maybe, you certainly don't have a dull mind. Though so far the only activities I know you do are eat, work, and furiously scribble in libraries.”

“I'm afraid that's all there is to me.”

“Yikes, that is a very dull man then. Though to be fair we have almost identical agendas. Only difference is I have eat, work, which my work is scribbling furiously in libraries, then my changes are I also sleep a ton, and do ballet. I would offer to teach you ballet but I'm not sure how confident you'd be in tights.” I teased with a grin.

He shook his head and tried to look annoyed, though was clearly holding in laughter. “Why do I feel like you're trying to get something out of me?”

“Probably because I am. How else am I supposed to get to know you?”

“With normal questions, dear.”

“I thought ‘how comfortable are you in tights’ seemed pretty normal, darling."

“How aboutttt...what's your favourite color?” I asked attempting to be ‘normal’.

“It's maroon. Yours?”

“Purple. Its girly but not too girly.”

“Are you sure I can't have even a peek at your book there? I'm such a curious person, I won't be able to sleep until I know.” I pleaded hoping that now he would let me. After all now we’ve had two conversations.

He grabbed a random book from the shelf nearest to him and handed it to me. “Check this one out.”

I rolled my eyes, “That won't satisfy it. I want to know about.” I stated and pointed to the book he was clutching to his chest. Gently tapping the hardback of it with the tip of my finger.

“Let's just say, it's something you'd regret seeing.” He said leaning in closer to me and whispering.

“That just makes me more curious! I swear it's already so agonizing.” I decided to try the whining method, allowing myself to take a step back. Feeling like I would suffocate from the closeness of his face, the scent of him, and feeling the movement of his breath.

He shrugged, “I'm sorry, Evelyn, but you'll just have to be agonized for a while longer.”

“Ahah! That means I'll know what it is soon. Since you said a while longer.”

“If I think what's going on is going on, everyone will know.” My eyebrows furrowed. This sounded serious. Since it’s something he, the middle child, was doing it was probably not a large issue. Like a global relations kind of thing, it was something he was keeping hidden, even from the selected. What could it be?

“Hm? You're confusing.”

“And I'm very sorry for that. I'm not usually one for secrets but some things are better left unsaid.” He said giving me a sympathetic look. I’d beg to differ. Things are almost never better left unsaid. If there’s a problem there’s a solution. All he needs is help. He just needs to ask.

“Alright, that's fine then. Though now I'm worried I was right about adding the trait of homicidal to your character's personality.” I decided to joke lightening the mood.

He chuckled, “I promise I'm not a murderer.” I wished he would promise something else. Something along the lines of ‘This secret I’m keeping will not hurt me or anyone.’ But a promise of not being a murderer will have to do.

“Hmmm pinkie promise?” I asked, more wanting some kind of physical confirmation that everything would be okay. Using this promise of him not being a murderer as a fill in.

He smiled and dramatically linked his pinky with my own to move up and down. “I do solemnly promise.”

“Good boy.” I said and pat his head.

“Now since that book makes you seem awfully dreary how about we do something fun. Likeeee playing cards?” I suggested.

“What kind of cards?”

“Game wise.” He added clarifying his previous question.

“Maybe go fish? Though then it'd be obvious who has whose card. What about uno?”

“Oh, man, we cannot play uno. That game ruins lives.” So do secrets.

“To make it worse I'd like to bet on who wins. I have something I want from you.” I added with a grin. Adding a bet would just fuel the competitive tension.

“And what is that?”

“I want your help with my next book. I've been stuck on ideas and I think your creative mind would be helpful. Though some of the ideas you've mentioned are a bit too wild I could tone them down and use them. So I want your assistance on my next book. But it'd be asking too much of you to ask it as a favour so I need to make you either indebted to me or you need to lose a bet.” I rambled a bit nervous to ask for help.

I had never needed help before. Ideas came easily to me, but recently there was nothing. I had hoped the selection would help me, but all of my ideas flooded then turned to waste when I wrote them. But for some reason, with Brooks. I felt calmed, I didn’t feel as critical over my own ideas. I wasn’t thinking about sales or efficiency. I just thought and spoke for better or for worse. He removed my analytical filter and I needed that.

He laughed, “I'd love to help.”

“Without a bet or debt? Heh rhymes.”

“Oh, I'd still like a bet.” This caught my attention. Obviously there would be like a million things I would want from him, but what in the world would he want from me?

“Great. Then on the off chance you win what would you like?” I taunted.

“If I win, you need to write about something. Something that I haven't figured out fully yet, but it's important. I need you to document it.” More curiousity. What is it I would be writing. Even if I win I’d still take him up on this. I’d love to assist him in any way possible.

“Alright, will do. If it's really important though I can do it regardless of who wins.”

“What a sweetheart. Alright-” He clapped his hands.

“-let's play.”

“Right! Do you have any cards or should we call a maid?” I asked.

“We can go to the game room. They have some in there.”

I leaned forward in my chair from excitement almost jumping up from it.

“There's a game room?!”

He stood heading for the door to the library.

“Yes, follow me.” I stood headed to the door and gave myself a small fist pump.

As we walked I retold the story of my send off and my embarrassment. Turning and heading to the car after my one sentence farewell, and giving myself a fist pump. He seemed to find it funny. We spoke of his status as a middle child, and his lack of torture from speeches as we walked until finally we arrived at the game room.

“This. This is my favorite place.”

“Why's that?” He asked.

“It's a room of games, why do you have to ask?”

He nodded with an amused smile and grabbed the deck of cards. After he took a seat I sat across from him.

“Right, uno. Do you want to shuffle or do you trust me too?”

“I trust you.”

I then took the cards and began to show off a bit. I knew a lot of tricks with shuffling cards because I never had anyone to play them with. Might as well learn to shuffle.

He raised his eyebrows, “Impressive.”

“Very. I've practiced.” I spoke as I dispersed the cards.

“Practiced just for this moment?”

I scoffed, “Obviously. I clearly knew I would be a selected and play cards with you, thus I practiced to perfect my shuffling skills.” I made sure my sarcasm was clear. Then flipped down the first card.

“You’re a weird one.”

“You said that last time we talked. Again, I'm taking it as a compliment.”

“What if it's not?”

“Well if it isn't then you're back to being a dull boy. Also you didn't specify and it's too late for take backs.”

“Why are you here?”

“I've already told you. I'm here for inspiration, whatever that means.”

“No, I mean why are you here with me? Why not Nate?”

“You've got interesting ideas too which is why I came here, and you're fun company. Not to mention I blanked when I had my interview with your brother and probably told him I like to sniff bricks, so explaining that is a conversation I'd rather not have. It's your turn.” I motioned to the cards.

“You should give it a chance.”

“Give what a chance?”

“You should talk to him. Ask him out.”

“I don't think we're even allowed to do that yet. Plus I'd rather play cards with you.”

He laughed, “You can do whatever you want, but I'm honored you enjoy my presence.”

“Good. It sounded to me like you were trying to get out of this game by using your brother. I was offended but since you're honored I want to hang out with you I guess I don't need to fear.”

“Uno!” He suddenly yelled causing me too look at his hand. The conversation had completely distracted me.

“Fuck! I mean damn! I mean ah!” I yelled forgetting my ladylike manners in the stress.

He laughed, “You lost!”

“Great now I have to document a document. Curses.” I joked.

“I'll still help with your book.”

“Great it's a win win. So I technically won in a way.”

He shrugged and looked down at his watch. “I have to go, I'm sorry.” Busy busy Mr. Secret holder.

“It's fine. You're a busy not as dull boy. I can play solitaire. Good luck with your secret book.” I winked and gave him a thumbs up as he left.

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swimintothesound · 6 years

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Swim Into The Sound’s 2017 Un-Awards

Welcome to Swim Into The Sound’s first annual Un-Awards! In this direct (and more negative) companion piece to our Diamond Platters, we take a moment to reflect on some of the worst moments in music over the past year. From bad lyrics to tasteless cover art, this is a quick-hit version of the lowest points that 2017 had to offer.

In a year where we keep thinking “well, at least things can’t get any worse” 2017 always managed to surprise us. From politics and celebrities all the way down to movies and music, this was a year of general-purpose deplorable behavior and reprehensible choices. While there were plenty of good moments over the past 365 days, you will find that none of that light reaches these depths. This post is a place of darkness, a hell devoted solely to the most soul-crushing and life-questioning music of the year.

I’d also like to throw out a disclaimer that I don’t particularly like being pessimistic, especially when it comes to art that people have (presumably) worked hard on. Aside from that, negativity stands in direct opposition to the ideals that this website was founded on in the first place. What I’ve found is that it’s hard to talk about the good without also thinking of the bad, especially for a year like 2017. As I mentioned before, the previous post is the exact inverse of this one, and the next article going up will cover our favorite albums of the year, so if you are searching for affirmation, this is not the place to find it. Just think of this as the lone negative meat in a positivity sandwich.

Truth be told, aside from a few visibly-frothy entries, most of these awards are positive spins on negative experiences: moments that surprised me, music I’m embarrassed to enjoy, or weird synchronicities that I noticed throughout the year. I could have gone out of my way to shit on Katy Perry, The Chainsmokers, Imagine Dragons, or any number of middling radio-ready albums that were released this year, but at a certain point that all just feels redundant and hack. I prefer to be original in my distaste. So without any further adieu, I’m proud to present Swim Into The Sound’s list of the most spine-chillingly-regrettable music of 2017.

Biggest Disappointment

Winner: Queens of the Stone Age - Villains

Being a fan is a mixed blessing. The upside is that you get to enjoy the rollercoaster of hype that is an album rollout and you get the sweet experience of listening to a highly-anticipated album for the first time when it releases. On the flip side, that fandom can easily backfire if your expectations have been built up too high. While I love Queens of the Stone Age, in 2017 I fear that I may be outgrowing them. The group’s 2004 release Songs for the Deaf is literally my favorite album of all time, and there’s no higher praise than that. Each record since then has been good to great until 2013’s ...Like Clockwork which just didn’t sit right with me outside of a select few songs.

This year, the group’s seventh LP represents a new artistic low. Featuring limp “dancy” grooves, irritatingly-clean instruments, and some of the most laughable lyrics I’ve ever heard, the band we see on Villains bears little resemblance the one that I fell in love with years ago. I recognize that wanting a band to stay the same is a shitty thing for a fan to ask, but I just can’t understand, enjoy, or tolerate the direction that the group is headed. I’m a lifelong fan, but that makes these recent records hurt all the more. When you love a band, you devour each release that they put out. Even if the last few records haven’t hit as hard, you stick with them because you want them to be better. The excitement of something new is impossible to stay away from, but now after months of listening, all I want is for Villains to stay away from me.

Runner-up: Portugal. The Man - Woodstock

While I wrote glowingly about Portugal. The Man’s entire discography last month, Woodstock (while not bad) is not an album that I particularly wanted. It’s not the band’s worst, but it’s the most sterile, safe, and poppy album that the group has ever created. Outside of a handful of adrenaline-pumping car-ready songs, Woodstock takes no risks. The album breaks no new ground, asks nothing of its audience, and seems entirely too content to settle. While those qualities are the exact opposite of what I expect from the trailblazing Portlanders, I’ll hold my reservations until I hear what comes next.

Album I Feel Like I Will Adore In A Few Years

Winner: Fleet Foxes - Crack-up

Until earlier this year I never particularly liked Fleet Foxes. In preparation for their 2017 release, I found myself endlessly replaying the group’s self-titled LP alongside Helplessness Blues while doing other things. Somewhere along the line “inoffensive background music” turned into brilliant folk epics, and I finally understood what made the band so unique. However, in a Bon Iver-esque pivot, Fleet Foxes’ third LP Crack-up represents an experimental shift in sounds, and unfortunately, it’s a change that doesn’t sit particularly well with me. There are some awe-inspiring moments scattered throughout this record, but as a whole, it’s not a release that stuck with me in the slightest, let alone one that can hold a candle to the band’s earlier work. I recognize that there’s something special going on in Crack-up, but I feel like it will just take some time for me to properly excavate it, just as I did with the group’s first two records.

Runner-up: Sun Kil Moon - Common As Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood

Sun Kil Moon is another artist that I’d never listened to until 2017. After hearing this year’s mouthful of an album Common As Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood, I came away pleasantly surprised. Featuring solemn, looping instrumentation and long podcast-like narration by Mark Kozelek, I listened to all two hours and ten minutes in complete fascination. I dipped back into his previous work like Benji and loved it just as much, but for whatever reason, I never ventured back into Valleys after that first listen. Maybe it was the album’s lengthy running time or the idea that the narration would prove too distracting for a casual listen, but Valleys always felt too daunting to dive back into. I feel like one day when I’m a middle-aged dad with a couple of kids I’ll finally have the time to revisit this album and it will speak to me on an entirely new level. The songs and stories here feel like something that I will find solace in when I’m older, but I just don’t have the 2+ hours right now.

WTF Moment of the Year

Winner: Bhad Bhabie

Of all the memes to emerge from 2017, few have been as successful as 14-year-old Danielle Bregoli. She first gained traction in January thanks to a Dr. Phil clip in which Mrs. Bregoli challenged an audience member to “cash her outside.” The teen’s delivery of the phrase caught fire and became a meme/infinitely-renewable social media caption for a hot minute. One of the more perplexing news stories of 2017 (and that’s saying something) was Danielle’s announcement of her music career as “Bhad Bhabi” complete with a deal on Atlantic Records. Preceded by an appearance in a Kodak Black video, this announcement blindsided the music world and spawned a million think pieces. However when Bregoli released her first song in August the unthinkable happened: It wasn’t that bad.

The video for “These Heaux” was the first part of a one-two punch alongside “Hi Bich” that set social media ablaze in September. As everyone collectively remembered the months-old meme from what seemed like a lifetime ago, most people took this as an opportunity to laugh at her once again. Meanwhile, I watched the same videos as everyone, and recognized it as bad music, but found myself embarrassingly enjoying both songs. “Heaux” and “Hi Bich” are both competent and well-produced Rae Sremmurd-esque bangers that, yes, are propped up by production, but still enjoyable. The truth is, they’re musical fast food. It’s not nutritious, healthy, or even filling, but sometimes you just need to bask in the utter trashiness that is Bhad Bhabie.

Runner-up: Lil Pump

Earlier this year I wrote a 3,000-word post in which I attempted to reconcile my newfound love of trap with my extreme dislike of the current crop of SoundCloud rappers. While that write-up was primarily inspired by the reprehensible human being that is xxxtentacion, I now regret lumping Lil Pump into the same category. While his brand of blown-out hyped-up trap is of the same school as xxx, Lil Pump isn’t nearly as bad on a personal or musical level as Onfroy. More surprisingly, I actually found myself liking his breakout single “Gucci Gang” more than I am comfortable admitting. Featuring a worryingly-mindless chorus and the same laundry list of flexes as most trap hits, “Gucci Gang” manages to be an infectious banger that has also propelled Pump to the forefront of both the charts and popular culture.

Most Un-sexy Sex Song

Winner: Alt-J “Hit Me Like That Snare”

In an interview with Q Magazine, Alt-J’s lead singer Joe Newman described “Hit Me Like That Snare” as an “atypically filthy psychedelic grind.” Wow, guys. Wow. If you want to avoid listening to the song, I don’t blame you. All you need to know about this track is that the band rhymes “slithering” with “scissoring” (yes, that kind), and the lead singer describes the song as “spicy.” Whew.

Runner-up: DJ Khaled “Wild Thoughts”

While I thought “Wild Thoughts” was exceedingly-sensual on first listen, the song now has too many things working against it for me to find any titillation here. From Rihanna’s baby talk to memories of dancing hot dogs, I just can’t listen to this song without picturing Santana’s face, or DJ Khaled screaming. The single achieved a level of cultural-pervasiveness so quickly that it became saturated beyond its original artistic vision. God knows I have no problem with DJ Khaled, but this track now contains too many distractions to remain pure. The music video is still unspeakably steamy, but as a whole, “Wild Thoughts” has lost what little sexy luster it initially had.

Am I The Only One Seeing This Shit?

Winner: Rappers Counting

I’ll admit that this category was created with the sole purpose of repurposing already-written articles, but that doesn’t make the observations contained within them any less valid. The first of these two hyper-specific happenings of 2017 can be found in this article where I outline three examples of rappers using numbers as lyrics. Not like clever wordplay involving numbers, but counting upwards sequentially one numeral at a time. It’s a weird thing to have happened multiple times in one year and feels like such a lazy cop-out of songwriting, but at the same time, each artist in the list manages to make it work for one reason or another.

Runner-up: 21 Savage’s Food Lyrics

Another weirdly-specific phenomenon of 2017 is something that I noticed while listening to 21 Savage’s debut Issa Album over the summer. Despite his tough gangster exterior and dark, moody beats, 21 also managed to fit an alarming number of food references into his first retail outing. While not particularly jarring, these references provide a weird contrast to the rest of the Mr. Savage’s “murder music” and end up sticking out like (multiple) sore thumbs throughout the record. It happened just consistently enough that I began laughing every time they poked up, and I felt the cosmic need to compile them somewhere, so I did.

Most Insensitive and Heavy-handed Song about Suicide

Winner: Arcade Fire “Creature Comfort”

On this second single off Arcade Fire’s Everything Now, we hear Win Butler clumsily address the topics of suicide and self-harm. The song’s first verse explains “Some boys hate themselves / Spend their lives resenting their fathers / Some girls hate their bodies / Stand in the mirror and wait for the feedback.” Taken on their own, these lines aren’t particularly offensive, but it’s the second verse where things get truly tactless: “Assisted suicide / She dreams about dying all the time / She told me she came so close / Filled up the bathtub and put on our first record.” I mean, what a pretentious and shitty way to insert yourself into someone else’s misery. It’s such a bizarre form of narcissism and masturbating to your own past, this line truly is one of the grossest sentiments that I’ve heard put to music over the past year.

Runner-up: Brand New “Same Logic / Teeth”

While it’s true that suicide isn’t exactly a groundbreaking topic for an emo band, Brand New somehow manages to stumble over it fantastically one of the few times that they tackle the subject. Surrounded by excellent songs of diverse sounds, styles, and topics, “Same Logic / Teeth” sticks out as Science Fiction’s most significant blunder. With questionable lyrics, bizarre vocal choices, and overwrought sentiments, it’s easy to see why most bands would prefer not write songs about killing yourself because the only time I have ever wanted to end my life is when I’m hearing Jesse Lacey sing about how fish won’t judge me by my faults.

WTF Moment of the Year 2: Weird Boogaloo

Winner: Vulfpeck “Captain Hook”

Venturing back to the “WTF Well” for two more entries, another of 2017’s biggest surprises came at the end of Vulfpeck’s Mr. Finish Line. The band’s third full-length studio album is a stone-cold chiller, but after half an hour of unspeakably funky tracks, “Captain Hook,” the record’s final song threw me (and every other listener) for a massive loop. Teased as a collaboration with Bootsy Collins, most fans expected a brainwave-shifting epic of an album closer, a modern “I’d Rather Be With You” but with even tighter instrumentation. What we got was a goofy comedy track featuring two of Vulfpeck’s members affecting the voices of an infant and an old Jewish man. Bootsy’s contributions are noticeable but minimal, and as a whole, the track is just a fantastically-bizarre experiment. “Captain Hook” is a weird child-like song featuring a trio of the three most disparate voices you could ever imagine, however (now that I know what to expect), I absolutely adore the song. It’s such a weird marriage of voices that, when combined with Vulf’s approach to music, circles back from annoying to endearing. It’s one final cherry of weirdness on top of the funk sundae that is Mr. Finish Line.

Runner-up: Taylor Swift “Look What You Made Me Do”

Preceded by snake imagery and a dark rebranding, “Look What You Made Me Do” marked Taylor Swift’s long-awaited return to the forefront of pop. After 2015’s 1989, numerous turbulent relationships, a public unmasking via Kardashian, and a complicated legal battle, the song represents Swift’s full embrace of the dark side. As the first single released off Reputation, “Look What You Made Me Do” was met with waves of confusion when it dropped this fall. From the Right Said Fred sample to the thinly-veiled jabs at her detractors, nearly everything about this song was poked and prodded through upon it’s August 25th release. There’s a strange schadenfreude to watching the biggest pop star flail to spectacularly, but at the end of the day she’ll still make a million dollars, sold-out rock stadiums, and be more successful than the richest DC supervillain, so as much as I want her to succeed, I guess it’s also okay to laugh. I definitely haven’t “come around” to the song, and I doubt I ever will, but the air of “what the fuck” was palpable the night that this song was released.

Weirdest Flex

Winner: Lil Pump “Gucci Gang”

After a brief intro and meme-ready chorus on “Gucci Gang,” Lil Pump surveys his surroundings and begins to describe them in the song’s sole verse. “My lean cost more than your rent” he boasts, “Your momma still live in a tent” he continues, “Still slangin' dope in the 'jects / Me and my grandma take meds.” These lines are so outlandish and bizarre that I can’t help but love them. First, we get the worrying comparison between the upkeep of his own opiate addiction to monthly rent, then the (uncalled for) implication that the listener’s mother is homeless, and the final cherry on top: the fact that Pump spends quality time popping pills with his grandmother.

It’s actually one of Pump’s numerous references to the elderly on his scant number of released songs, leading me to think that this is either A) a genuine lyric, or B) a worrying cry for help. At least he’s spending some quality time with his elders before they pass. Even if it’s a drug-fueled haze, I hope that both parties treasure their remaining time together.

Runner-up: Drake “Gyalchester”

On one of More Life’s most hard-hitting tracks, “Gyalchester” finds Drake braggadociously displaying his opulence in rapid lyrical flashes. Halfway through the first verse, the song’s beat cuts out just long enough for Drake to exclaim “I don't take naps / Me and the money are way too attached to go and do that.” While the sentiment of money over everything is hardly new for the rap game, using naps as a framing device to explain how fond of currency you are is such a “Drake way” to go about it. At this point, Drake is far beyond the memes of his earlier career, but lines like this one are how he got that reputation in the first place. All this said, I’m not gonna begrudge anyone their beauty sleep or lack thereof, everyone has their own unique schedule... Plus the song bangs, so cornball lyrics are easier to overlook.

Most Abhorrent Cover Art

Winner: The Darkness - Pinewood Smile

I honestly don’t want to write too much because I just want to stop looking at this. The facial hair. The teeth. The nose ring. The Photoshopped band members. I’m sorry I had to subject you guys to this, but this abortion of a cover is too bad to not share.

Runner-up: Maroon 5 - Red Pill Blues

*Adam Levine walks into the studio*

“Hey, have you guys heard of Snapchat?”

Most Undeservedly Shit Upon

Winner: Arcade Fire - Everything Now

For the sake of ending on a somewhat positive note, I’m going to wrap up by talking about two albums that were widely disliked, but I managed to appreciate. First off we have Arcade Fire’s fifth LP Everything Now. While I did just spend a paragraph dunking on the album’s suicide track, I actually thoroughly enjoyed this record. I’ll start this off by saying I have no reverence for this band, I don’t care for their older work, and they’ve always struck me as a painfully average indie group. Perhaps thanks to this lowered expectation, I emerged from my first listen of Everything Now with a smile on my face. It was goofy and cheesy, and about as far from subtle as you can get, but I still enjoyed it for what it was. Since the album is in this “shit upon” category, I guess it goes without saying that I was largely alone in this sentiment.

Maybe people were turned off by the unrelenting social media campaign, or just expected more based on the group’s previous work, but either way, it seemed like indieheads the world over were sick to their stomachs after hearing this record. I personally think the album has a wonderful Abba-esque charm to it. There’s a tremendous melodic through-line with the titular “Everything Now,” there are memorable choruses on “Creature Comfort,” and even a gloriously chunky riff on “Chemistry.”

At the end of the day, I think I enjoy Everything Now for the same reason that I enjoyed M83’s Junk. I went into both albums with low expectations and ended up loving the cheesy throwback vibe that they embraced. I can totally understand why that pivot would turn off long-time fans, but apparently, this sound is right up my alley. It’s not going to be on my end of the year list or anything, all I’m saying is Everything Now is good for what it is. You know what? It’s great for what it is. If fans could take their blinders off, remove their feelings on the album’s lead-up, and take this as a standalone adventure, they would probably enjoy Everything Now for the goofy romp that it is.

Runner-up: Foo Fighters - Concrete and Gold

Even before Concrete and Gold was released, I saw about a half dozen articles about how the Foo Fighters have nowhere else to go and are the embodiment of “New Dad Rock.” While it’s true that the band is unchallenging to listen to and don’t exactly think outside of the box, the criticism is a double-edged sword. Aside from being a thinly-veiled put-down, the dad rock label means that Foo Fighters won’t ever release a “bad” record, but they’re also never going to release another “classic” like Colour and Shape. While I agree the group is in a weird spot career-wise, I resent the idea that they won’t ever release something impactful as Colour and Shape simply because they’re older. Apart from the fact that 2011’s Wasting Light was one of the band’s best, on Concrete and Gold we see a band that’s still incredibly hungry.

Eschewing the conceptual framing devices of their past couple releases, Foo Fighters set out to make a straight-up rock record, and they succeeded. The band still go through their usual motions, oscillating from biting punky tracks to slow moody epics, but as a whole Concrete is a record that’s well-paced, well-produced, and solid from front to back. Just because it’s played on the radio doesn't mean it’s an inherently “okay” album, and just because the band is growing old doesn’t mean they’re settling. Concrete and Gold is concrete proof of that.

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thebrowngirlstakeontheworld · 5 years

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Nobody’s Mama

Quick Author’s Note: The purpose of this post is not to stomp on anyone’s baby dreams. Have babies. Have lots of babies. Matter of fact, MAJOR shoutout to all of my friends who are already parents! You are all so amazing, and I love watching your little ones turn into little versions of you. Keep doing your best and being your best. I see you. I also know there are women who really desire to be moms, and I think that’s amazing. The purpose of this post is to show that there is another group of us. People ask me all of the time why I don’t want kids, and it’s such a complicated answer. But know that I’ve thought about it, long and hard. Motherhood is a special calling and not everyone has it. Read on only if you’re interested in knowing a little bit of my journey.

Now. It’s my turn to briefly answer the most frequently asked question brought to me weekly: “Do you want marriage and/or kids?”

STORY TIME:

eX: Can I talk to you about something?

Me: Sure

eX: Let’s have a baby together. You’d be an amazing mother. I’d be a great dad. We can have a child together and coparent like all the trendy people.

Me: Absolutely not.

THE END

I don’t have it all figured out. Yes, I’m 30, and I’m just chillin. Vibin. Coastin. And that’s ok with me (after having several panic attacks and temper tantrums the past couple of years). By nature, I’m a planner. However, God doesn’t let me plan my life which is soooo unfair. I have absolutely no control. I mean... if you do have control over your life, more power to you.

Like every “grown” daughter who hates when her Dad meddles in her life, I, too, hate when God changes the plan… but I secretly like it because it’s always better than my plan. It’s like a little game we play, me and God. I tell Him everything I have planned, and He counters it. Today’s area of discussion: Marriage and kids. I used to be annoyed by the fact that I couldn’t just marry Idris Elba or be an assistant to Oprah or be a mom by 25. But there is a rhyme and reason for everything I suppose.

Today, I’m grateful for all of the things I didn’t receive as a part of my plan. All of the things God has protected me from. At 30, I’m nobody’s wife or mother which is such a blessing. I used to long for motherhood, but then I became a teacher. And I realized raising children is hard and being in partnership with another adult (their parents) is even harder. So many ideas and opinions on how to raise children. Oh and these personalities. Some kids have these wild personalities that they can’t even control. I would get kicked, bit, punched, and more by CHILDREN and I used to always think… “What if this were my child?” And people who aren’t in classrooms love to comment that it wouldn’t be my child, but they can’t guarantee that. Every year that I taught, I saw an increasing number of violent children who exhibited behaviors that they couldn’t control. With each case, my baby factory closed it’s doors a little.

Through it all, teaching taught me so much about who I am and what kind of parent and wife I’d be. I’d be one of those parents who pours out her entire life into her child and husband. I’d be attentive, supportive, chef, maid and all of that good stuff. And not out of obligation, but because I’d want to. It’s in my nature. Nobody told me to skip lunches as a teacher or get to school 30 minutes early or leave school an hour after it was over or call parents with updates on their kiddos or teach while allergy season almost took me out, but I did it because I understood what was at stake. Their futures were in my hands. I’d give anything to make sure my kids were successful because that’s how I was with my students. If you remember, I was unhealthy as a teacher. I’d gain weight off and on due to all of my emotional eating and looked visibly tired all the time. I lived and breathed my students and their families. Nobody was pouring into me or breathing life into me besides me. So then I realized THIS is why I’m not a mom yet because God’s like... you’d be miserable and would run yourself into the ground. Parenting is freaking hard. People always say it’s better when it’s your own kid, but I just don’t believe it. Imma still be pouring my soul into it and not do anything for myself.

People often try to “get” me to change my mind because of how “motherly” I am. I get it. I am nurturing, caring and kind, but aren’t we all? So just let me walk in my current truth, I do NOT desire a child and/or childbirth at this time and that’s ok. Yes, part of that is fear. But a major part of that is when I see my future, I don’t see any little people. It’s not like I have this giant empire that I need to pass down or anything. I have just enough for my little life to be as wonderful as I want it to be. And I just can’t afford kids. I don’t know where y’all be finding this money from, but I ain’t got it. Plus, my mom still asks me to text her when I get home safely after a night out with friends. Ain’t nobody got time to be that worried about an adult!

So the children conversation has been officially shelved until God shows me otherwise. I think I’ve done my part as it pertains to the whole child-rearing thing. I got the chance to impart wisdom and “mother” over 100 children. I’m an auntie to my godbrother’s son, and I’m a spiritual godmother to my friend’s sweet baby girl. So I may not have gotten to be a physical mother, but I’m ok with being a teacher-auntie-godmom figure because I get to work through the ratio in which I was pouring out. Instead of pouring out 100%, I pour out about 28% which... I know... would probably classify me as selfish. Not the negative kind. But the kind of selfish that makes each day worth living. I wake up praying and reading. Because I have time. I get to cook 2 meals for myself almost daily. Because I have time. I work out. Because I have time. I get to work around my own schedule and follow my dreams. I get to be unapologetically me because I have time. Reclaiming my time has been my mantra in my late 20s and early 30s, and I’m doing just that.

There’s also the giant elephant in the room of my own childhood that I would have to unpack before even having children. My family life was amazing growing up. BUT my social/school life was THE worst. I was chubby, a loner, and a loser for most of elementary school and middle school. I left high school with three friends. Alienation and bullying is something I dealt with and is still happening in schools. I wouldn’t even know how to address it with my own kids. My sister has always been my best friend. She didn’t have a choice. I had no one else. She used to tell me that it was surprising to her that I didn’t have low self-esteem. And the reality is that I really went through those school years thinking I was great and that everyone else was just confused and missing out. Many of my classmates were rude and cruel. My mom used to tell me they were jealous of me which is why they were so mean. As much as I’d love to believe that raising my kids to be vegetarians and pumping them with organic food, would make them less chunky and more cool, I know that there’s a solid chance that they could still be mistreated. I don’t desire for my children to live on an island of one in school, where they love themselves but nobody else likes them. I don’t want them to be social outcasts. And if they end up with my dashing good looks (in which society doesn’t deem as beautiful… darker skin, natural hair), that’s a whole other battle. Will my daughter have to deal with people not thinking she was good enough? Will she be single for most of her life because of beauty standards? I literally have zero positive date stories to tell her from my time here on planet earth. ZERO. Well actually, maybe one from the Cayman Islands, but that’s it. Having a daughter would horrify me because I know all the effort my family had to put in to prove to me just how wrong culture is. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

On the partnership thing, I’d like to get married one day, but I’m not rushing it. I like my schedule and routine, so I don’t mind holding on to it for as long as possible. It would be nice though if I could have a late 2020 wedding. I never thought at 30 I’d be this single… like… not even in a serious relationship, single. But honestly, I haven’t met anyone worth interrupting my life for. So until God Himself sends a man in my direction, I’m gonna keep double dipping my spoon in the peanut butter jar because I can.

I didn’t come to the marriage and kids conclusion by osmosis because like I said...I’m a planner and both were in my plan. But since my perfectly imperfect man wasn’t gonna just appear, I had to think about what I could control…which was my attitude towards not being married. There are many many MANY pros to my current lifestyle (which I tell y’all about often), so I had to rejoice in that! When life gives you lemons, you mix it with tequila and add some sugar on the rim and have a party! Because lemons aren’t even a bad fruit. I love lemons!

I had to stop thinking about all of the things that didn’t come to pass and change my posture to gratitude. I started thinking about all of the things that have happened without me really working hard. The things that were just in the plan. I thought about all of the amazing opportunities that happened because my young, wild, and free lifestyle was open enough for them to happen. So instead of dwelling on what could’ve been, I get to wait patiently on what will be! I get to be spontaneous and live life with my amazing life planner, GOD.

I shall talk more about career and general adulthood realizations later. This was already way longer than I wanted. The moral of the story is... life plans change. And I may end up married with 5 kids. Which I’d be open to. It just wouldn’t be my first choice or fifth choice. And I’m having an actual anxiety attack thinking about it. But who knows. So just leave me alone and watch what happens. *cues up God’s Plan by Drake

Love you for reading!

Let your light shine today.

Shanda B.

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groundramon · 7 years

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Cartoon asks: ALL OF THEM

THANK YOU SO MUCH OMFG

also i totally didnt fill all these out in advance and twiddle my thumbs in anticipation, hoping someone would send me this ask, nope not at all

1. A cartoon you remember that nobody else does.Back at the Barnyard. That fucking show…oh my god

2. A cartoon you like but nobody else seems to.Well technically I remember liking Back at the Barnyard but I haven’t watched that show since I was like 8 or 9 so idk if I’d like it now akjsfkfkgjh I kinda doubt it now because my bullshit-tolerance-meter for television has significantly shortened. Uhhh the only other cartoons I can think of that I liked that don’t seem to be liked by a lot of people are like…the DreamWorks cartoons (when they were on Nickelodeon and CN that is, I don’t have Netflix rip) and the Lego cartoons (except Ninjago because apparently that has a fandom?? what??) like I thought they were okay at the time at least. (Also I guess the HTTYD cartoon wasnt hated, because it was fucking HTTYD, but //shrug)

3. A cartoon you don’t like but everybody else seems to. ADVENTURE TIME and like everything on Cartoon Network except Steven Universe and We Bare Bears honestly. Like Adventure Time isn’t my cup of tea but I’m like “alright, some of those plots actually seem kind of interesting, I guess I can see where people are coming from” but like… shit like Clarence and Uncle Grandpa?? I’m all for people having different opinions but I don’t know how you can even get past the art style, let alone the writing style and some of the voice acting ;-; you are a stronger person than I’ll ever be if you can get past that lmao

4. A cartoon you wish would be forgotten.Uhhh pretty much everything on Nickelodeon from 2010-2014 (besides the dreamworks cartoons basically) and the shit reboots that CN’s been pumping out (namely TTG and the PPG reboot, but the Ben 10 reboot looks REALLY lazy, so at least it doesn’t annoy me [or I haven’t seen anything from it that annoys me] but…)

5. The worst cartoon you’ve ever seen, and why?Fanboy and Chum Chum, as far as cartoons I’ve actually watched go (because hoo boy, worse cartoons exist out there). Everything about that cartoon is…wrong and broken. It has one style of humor and that’s toilet/gross out humor. The “straight man” so to speak, basically an emo teen version of Squidward, is actually…not Squidward in-show?? Like in the intro he’s very clearly set out to be a grouch who hates the main characters, but in the show he’s just…an introvert that gets wrapped into their plans and only snaps at them when they actually hurt him. The protagonists are annoying as fuck and are psychopaths that deserve to be locked up in a mental institution. It’s not funny. The voice acting is annoying as hell. And the animation is disgusting. I didn’t know it was even possible to make 3d animation look this rendered yet still look so bad, but apparently it is. Like they took extra effort into making the show look WORSE. I will say that its impressive that they managed to get such tooney designs to exist in a 3d space, but that doesn’t do you shit good when the animation is gross.

6. The worst moment you’ve ever seen happen in a cartoon.Directly, as in I was watching the show? Something in Fanboy and Chum Chum. Indirectly, as in I watched a review where they showed the scene or I read about it? Something in Family Guy, or the self-insert in the PPG reboot. Yeah there’s a self-insert in the PPG reboot. Every time I think it cant get worse…it does.

7. The worst thing you’ve ever seen happen to a cartoon that ruined it.I was really neutral on Teen Titans Go (some of the jokes made me laugh but others were really cringey, but it was at least funny some of the time and the art didn’t hurt me as much as other shows on CN, so whatever) but then I found out that they’ve actively attacked their critics in-show and have generally responded very poorly to criticism and…asdf. Like its one thing to stay quiet, it’s another thing to embrace it and say “yeah we know its stupid, but it made us laugh!” (which they did do, kinda), but it’s another thing to spit in the face of everyone who has a problem with it (and not even address their criticisms, like they act like they did but?? no they fucking didn’t??). Like the problem I have with the show is not that it’s stupid. The problem is that the writers say “yeah, it’s for kids, so it should be stupid” (its not even “well it made us laugh” from what I remember), the problem is that the writers never watched the original show and completely ruined the legacy of a show that actually took itself seriously, the problem is that the writers are so fucking high on their horses that they respond to the haters IN-SHOW and LAUGH AT THEM. My problem is not with the show itself, my problem is with the culture it embodies. It embodies the worst of Hollywood entitlement, cheap shithole cashcow shows, cheap reboots that disappoint fans of the original, “stupid because its for kids” cartoons, and basically the worst Hollywood has to offer.

8. A cancelled/forgotten cartoon you would bring back to television.Uhh if nothing happens with Infinity Train then that, but besides that…another series of Avatar (like following a new avatar) would be fucking great but I don’t want to put the creators through the hell that is Nickelodeon lmao. I also thought Harvey Beaks looked nice, like I never watched it but it looked okay, so I’d be okay with bringing that back too if it made the creator happier (honestly the poor creator…nickelodeon treated him really badly too)

9. An animated character you remember but nobody else seems to.Pete from Steven Universe lmao like where did he goJoking aside (SU is too relevant to count for this) uhHHH fuck I guess the characters in the Monsters vs Aliens cartoon? nobody remembers that movie but the show kinda cemented the characters in my mind (I would’ve said back at the barnyard but honestly I don’t remember the characters until you show them to me, besides like the main cow guy, whoops)

10. An animated character you hate the most, and why?Onion annoys me. Like…he’s that kind of character that has no rhyme or reason behind what he does. He’s the kind of character whose entire personality just relies on the kind of Adventure Time-esque humor that I just don’t get or enjoy. The kind of humor that just creeps or grosses me out or bores me instead of making me burst out laughing. The kind of humor that’s physical-based, but just too slow and poorly paced to be funny like slapstick. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s exactly how Onion seems to me and that’s why I dislike Onion. In Doug Out, for example, Onion has no gross out or creep out jokes, and I don’t mind him as much. Like he’s not a GOOD character, he still doesn’t bother insisting that there’s something else out there when the others disagree with him, but at least he isn’t scaring me. OH AND MARCUS FROM DIGIMON DATA SQUAD I immediately thought Onion because he’s a cartoon character, but since this is just for animation in general…aksdhfgfkj i dont know why I hate Marcus so much, I dont want to hate Marcus so much, but I do. His response to everything is just to punch everything and he’s so entitled and annoying and hotheaded and aAAARG HES JUST INFURIATING, I DIDNT THINK IT WAS POSSIBLE TO BE THIS MAD OVER A CHARACTER THAT ISNT FUNDAMENTALLY BROKEN BUT HERE I AM

11. A non-animated property you would like to see as a cartoonidk if this counts because it’d have to be an anime probably but FOSSIL FIGHTERS CHAMPIONS!!! LITERALLY I WOULD CRY IF THIS WAS MADE INTO A MANGA OR ANIME PLEASE @ NINTENDO MY FAMILY IS STARVING but seriously can you imagine like….you could have a mute main character (its implied that the protagonist talks a few times but they could be selectively mute or just mime and the dialogue could be rearranged appropriately) and if you choose the female protagonist you could make her gay for Pauleen??? Like I refuse to accept the male protagonist as the “canon” main character bc I want gay sorry. BUT LIKE!!! You wouldn’t have to write that much bc its already written!! and its really fucking ridiculous and would probably appeal to like…TTG-loving kids because its so silly asdf BUT ITS ALSO GOOD, IT HAS HEART, PLEASE THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA like its not a good idea for manga/anime because it IS kinda ridiculous and childish but?? it would fit so well as a western cartoon??? Hey Nintendo can you please give me a license to produce this because I swear to god I would if I could

12. A trope or trend in animation that you dislike.Well there are a lot but they aren’t exclusive to animation…? "Blonde popular bitch" and “damsel in distress” have been two of my personal most-hated for all my life because of who I am/was, but there are others I dislike too. I also really hate the kinda…style that Adventure Time set up in cartoons. Like I guess AT isn’t really responsible for ugly-looking cartoons and the type of humor that I dislike, because looking at CN before it aired there were already shows like that (Chowder, Flapjack…) but I think AT really popularized them and :/ it also reworked the same concepts in Chowder and Flapjack and people were like “WOWEE CARTOON RENAISSANCE !!!” and I just kinda….idk. I have a lot of personal baggage against AT lmao sorry AT fans, like I don’t even hate the show and not all of its effects were bad (not in the slightest) but like TTG I have issues with some of the things it popularized.

13. A currently airing cartoon that you know is going to be forgotten about in the future.Hmm, We Bare Bears maybe, or like Mighty Magiswords. Like CN plasters Mighty Magiswords everywhere but nobody gives a shit about that show so I feel like its only a matter of time before it disappears yknow?? but maybe im wrong. WBB doesn’t get the attention it deserves so yeah. Also maybe that Bunsun is a Beast cartoon over on Nickelodeon? im not sure man

14. The best episode of a cartoon you really like.The Southern Raiders (that’s only one of my favorites tho, like?? The Puppetmaster is tied for first in that season, and that’s just in that season, not including the other two seasons of ATLA)

15. The worst episode of a cartoon you really like.Rocknaldo or any episode centering around Onion, e u c k

16. A cartoon you feel deserves more recognition than it gets.Uhhhhh fuck everything I watch is mainstream cries WBB isn’t that popular and like its a cute, perfectly fine show, but its not like…revolutionary

17. A cartoon you feel deserves less recognition than what it gets.ADVENTURE TIME, also s/o to Regular Show, Clarence, Uncle Grandpa…like those last two aren’t even universally liked but sorry I still think they get too much praise asdf

18. The worst idea you can think of for an animated series.It already exists and its called One Ounce Mouse, but honestly adult cartoons in general are…a bad idea. Like if you’re just gonna use your adult rating to offend people instead of using it to be insightful or using it to be ACTUALLY FUNNY, what the fuck are you doing with your life? You should be fired tbqh

19. At what point did you realize a cartoon, any cartoon was starting to get bad?I can’t remember when I realized SpongeBob was starting to get bad, but it was sometime around 2010 or so. I remember getting really sick of the show when it went to HD/fullscreen because for some reason, all the new character designs got…significantly worse?? Like the season premiere of that season (cant remember which season it was, don’t care to look it up) had three new characters and they all looked…so fucking ugly? It was really hard to look at? Like seriously they looked like something out of Sanjay and Craig, not SpongeBob. Even the main character designs just…looked too smooth and rounded and not good to me. It reminds me of like Family Guy and i dont like that overly smooth, “we have too much money so we blew it on extra in-between frames instead of good-looking art” style. I think the final breaking point for me was Squid Baby and the episode where Gary got overly attached to a ball, and realizing that after an episode that actually was kinda legitimately nice (it was the one about Plankton getting a pet) they were never going to bring up Plankton’s pet again and ugh. Like lack of continuity is nothing new but I really wish he had kept the pet, it was the best thing to happen to the show in literal years. Like seriously that episode was the best new episode in years, it was legitimately cute even though I had a beef with some of the character designs (as I always did in that season)

20. An experience with a cartoon you thought you were going to like but turned you away from it.I tried watching Bee and Puppycat the other day and it really….put me off….because it had more of that Adventure Time style humor and I legitimately thought it interfered with how the plot should’ve progressed. Like Bee was way too okay with everything and we didn’t get any explanation for anything because instead she just made weird noises and bit a monster’s tongue off. I’m still gonna watch the other episodes for the heck of it, so maybe I’ll change my mind, but eh

21. Something you would like to see more than anything in a cartoon.It already exists and it’s called Avatar: The Last Airbender + The Legend of Korra

22. What do you feel makes a cartoon forgettable?That’s….actually a really good question. Because like, I would’ve forgotten about Adventure Time years ago if it hadn’t been drilled into my head that everyone else thought it was the best thing ever and I didn’t. I might be off my SU high by now if I didn’t keep reblogging/reading SU-related stuff on tumblr lol. I guess blandness is what makes your cartoon forgettable. If its not so bad that it’s funny/everyone needs to insult it, but its not good enough that it gets good reviews, then there’s just…no place for your cartoon, especially if its not profitable so it gets cancelled quickly.

#stormy answers #thank you so much omfg

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