#since it's way more isolated than a hotel or whatever

[cesium-sheep]

unfortunately I have decided I just don't like camping in general. fortunately I was only going to stay one night anyway so I am home.

#unfortunately they both like camping and will be gone two more nights #but like. I can spend all day in the state park and still sleep in a bed is the thing. #I don't go 'woah I get to wake up here!!' or any of that I just go 'ugh. cold. hot. dirt. bones.' #the only time it would be fun is if I was entirely completely by myself #since it's way more isolated than a hotel or whatever #but I don't care about being isolated with other people yknow? #might as well just be in the regular world. #part of that may also be that I am isolated with my partners literally all the time anyway.

[airbendertendou]

you're so pretty it hurts ♡ arisu ryohei

synopsis ; arisu searches for usagi at a pool party, but finds an old friend instead.

content warnings ; alludes to sex / non-descriptive smut, sexual assault [and how it’s pushed away as jokes], virgin!reader, soft n sappy n sweet arisu ):

song inspo ; im yours by isabel larosa

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

—— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ ——

Ever since he lost Karube and Chota, he’d been thinking of you constantly. Parts of Arisu regretted dropping out of college — that was the only way he could see you, after all. But, it got too intense too quick ; got too overwhelming and crushing in all of the worst ways. Arisu missed seeing you and your sweet good mornings ; your attempts of helping him during class and the way you’d consistently invite him out.

“Arisu?” Usagi’s voice comes over the walkie-talkie in his hand. Static hits next and he’s officially back to reality — his new reality. “Do you see anyone?”

“A few people here have those bracelets on,” he replies. Each game they got closer and closer to whatever the Beach is. “They’re on the move! I’ll follow behind!”

Usagi and Arisu meet at a bridge, overlooking a lit-up hotel. Arisu breathes out heavily as he thinks of his fallen friends and what they couldn’t accomplish. We made it, Karube, he thinks. Thanks to you, we made it to the Beach.

And then he was hit over the head.

—— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ ——

You’re walking to the pool when you see someone familiar. He’s looking around anxiously, frantic and watchful in the same way he would be before a test. His hair is messy and damp, a bruise or two forming on his face. Yet, you still know who he is. His name leaves your mouth in a whisper as you stand completely still in the middle of the pulsing crowd. “...Arisu.”

“Ryohei. It’s Ryohei for you.”

With a grin — and in remembrance of what he’d told you years ago — you shout, “Ryohei!”

His head snaps to your direction immediately, surprise flickering across his battered face before he’s running to you. Arisu is panting as he stands in front of you, eyeing your disheveled appearance. His eyes linger on your swim shorts and how they seem a little tighter than necessary before he snaps his gaze away with a blush. “What are you doing here, [name]?”

“Same as you,” you shrug. Gently, you tug your old friend to a more isolated area, your hand dropping to hold his as the eyes around you vanish. “How are you doing, Arisu? Are you okay?”

He’s scowling immediately as his free hand pinches your nose, wiggling your head side to side while it’s in his hold. “You call me Ryohei.”

You hum, failing to hold your smile at his familiar antics. Arisu’s face drops with his free hand, smile soothing into something sadder. “You’re avoiding my questions, Ryohei.”

Smiling half-heartedly. Arisu looks away from you briefly with pursed lips. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I’m looking for a… friend.”

Acquaintance felt more accurate to what he and Usagi were — game partners even more accurate. You raise an eyebrow teasingly and he’s quick to shove those thoughts out of your head. “Really — friends.”

Usagi is the one who finds him, walking up to both of you curiously while she zips her jacket up. Arisu moves to stand beside you, hands still locked as they sway between your bodies. “This is [name]! We knew each other in the other world. This is Usagi — we’ve been pairing up during games.”

You nod, smiling her way and watching her own hesitant smile break through. The two talk about things you don’t bother to listen to, grabbing a drink instead as you look for anyone you know. Making sure your friends — a loose term in this world —are still living is a vital part of your own survival. You need to know you aren’t going through this alone ; need to see the horror and pain stuck on someone else’s face.

A tug on your left hand brings you back to the duo as you sip on your drink. Arisu nods to a few empty seats with his chin before he leads you there. Usagi goes off on her own for more questioning, seeing who has theories and what they are. Arisu turns to you and just looks for a bit, taken aback by the lights that bounce off of your skin.

The thoughts that have been weighing you down recently pop back up. It’s no coincidence, either ; if you were talking about this with anyone, of course it’d be with Arisu. You gulp down the rest of your drink and turn to him abruptly. “Will you do me a favor?”

Arisu raises an eyebrow, watching as the smile on your face turns tense and wary. He scoots his chair closer to yours, leaning his head down so that you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Being in this world…” your smile falters, tears building in your eyes. Arisu stiffens at the sight of how upset you are, grabbing both of your hands so that they’re clenched in his. “I’ve realized how many people take advantage of the prospect of no rules. My body is no longer mine ; my survival doesn’t only mean playing these games.”

The shaggy-haired boy gulps, his grip on your hands tightening slightly. “No one has…”

You let out a harsh laugh. You squeeze his hands briefly and drop your gaze to the ground. Slowly, you tell Arisu of the gazes that hit your body at every second ; you tell him of the harmless jokes and rancid laughter that echoes in your head when you can’t sleep. Arisu frowns when you describe the solidifying moment for you — that day you bent over and a group of guys stood behind you, shifting and moving against your body and laughing it off when you became upset.

“The militants aren’t the worst people here,” you say. Arisu has stayed silent, but his rage and disgust is building up terrifyingly fast. “Anyone and everyone can and will take advantage of me. And no one will help ; everyone just looks the other way when they hear screaming. So—”

Arisu tilts his head further downward and it makes you giggle. He grins at the sound, straightening up when you do. “So?”

“I’m scared I’ll be taken advantage of eventually ; scared someone will force me to be with them and hurt me when I say no.” Your fears are common, he thinks ; completely rational and it makes him sick that you have to think this way. Your next sentence is said after heaving in a deep, anxious breath. “I want you to have sex with me. I want you to be the first one I’m that intimate with.” 

The world pauses. Arisu stares at you, blinking a few times before spitting out, “right now?”

It makes you cackle — how shocked and casual he sounds. Your head is thrown back in joy, eyes closed and lips curled up fully. Arisu pauses, gaze softening as he watches you. A grin is still painted on your lips as you finally sober up, taking his breath away once again. “Not right now, no. We’ll know when the time is right… That’s how the saying goes, right?”

“Something like that,” Arisu gulps. Usagi re-joins the two of you and it takes longer than it should for him to pry his attention from you. It reels in his head — over and over and over — I want you to be the first one that I’m intimate with. 

Arisu shivers, suddenly feeling like every eye is on him.

—— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ ——

He doesn’t even remember how he got here. But, Arisu stands in the middle of yet another pool party, glowering at every swimsuit-clad person he sees. Usagi has made friends with a girl named Asahi ; she dragged you away to meet her new acquaintances and Arisu was left to himself.

Somehow, he’s able to hear your laughter over the music that’s pounding and his head swivels that way immediately. The lights at the Beach are bouncing off of your smile, shimmering over your skin and forming a halo over your entire body. His breathing stops — Arisu feels his tongue go dry just at the sight of you.

Before he knows it, Arisu has fought through the crowd and is standing in front of you. Pausing your dancing to glance at him curiously is what sets him off. Arisu is leaning in towards you, eyes fully closed and lips puckered — prepared to kiss the absolute life out of you.

“I’m losing my mind,” Arisu whispers against your lips. Your heart is racing as his fingers trail to your cheek, cupping it gently and running his thumb along your jaw. “It isn’t fair that you look this pretty in such an awful world. It isn’t fair that you are completely in control even after what you asked from me.”

You sigh, brushing your nose against his, “who says I’m in control, hm?”

You end up in your room, giggles swallowed by Arisu’s tongue. He’s frantic as he kisses you ; always keeping a hand on your face as you stumble around. The bed meets the bend of your knees as Arisu pushes you to it gently, panting against your cheek as he struggles to catch his breath. You turn your head for your own air and pause at the swinging door.

“Ryohei—” Arisu seemingly whines against your cheek at the sound of his name. You giggle again, not resisting the urge you have to pepper his face in kisses. “Silly. What do we do about the door?”

“Door…?” It’s then that he remembers a rule about the Beach — no privacy. Arisu sighs, closing his eyes and sitting up. You follow suit, biting your bottom lip as you look around your scarce room for something to keep the door shut. His eyes drift to a pile of torn and bloodied clothes on the floor, lighting up with an idea. He points to the cloth with a grin, “do you need those?”

A half-hearted ‘rope’ is made with the clothing, tied from the door handle of the bathroom to the main door. Arisu stands triumphant, a smug smile on his face as he holds his fists on his hips. He turns to you, cheeks heating as he sees how swollen your lips are ; how out of breath from his kisses you still seem to be.

“I’m not that experienced,” Arisu finds himself saying. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, sitting on the bed so he doesn’t have to face you. “With— things. You can ask someone else if you want.”

You’re shaking your head before he can finish his sentence. Sitting beside him, you hold his left hand with your right, squeezing it briefly. “I chose to ask you because I trust you, Ryohei. You make me feel safe.”

Arisu is tearing up before he can stop himself, sniffling as he smiles down at the floor. You’re pushed back softly as he hovers over you, a bright grin broadcasted just for you. A kiss to your left eye, then right ; one to your nose before they’re bridged to your cheeks. And a final, promising kiss to your lips.

“Okay,” he breathes, “okay. I’ve got you.”

—— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ ——

idk what this is lmao came to me in the middle of the night so, ♡ my forever taglist : @straysugzhpe​ <3 @star2fishmeg​ <3 if you’d like to b tagged / untagged let me know!! airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#arisu x reader #arisu imagine #arisu alice in borderland #arisu ryohei x reader #arisu ryohei imagine #arisu smut #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland au #aib x reader #aib x you #aib x y/n #aib imagine #aib au

[imitationgame77]

ART and Human Adolescents

~ Reason Why ART Befriended Murderbot in AC ~

A sort of theory...

In Network Effect, Murderbot notes several times that ART likes adolescent humans. For instance,

I'd noted that ART's tone when it spoke to Amena was completely different than it was to the other humans. [...] Whatever else ART was, the classroom space and bunk-rooms said it was actually, on a regular basis, a teaching vessel. And before this when I was stupid and we were still friends it had talked about human adolescents in an indulgent way.

[Network Effect, Chapter 9]

Murderbot uses ART's soft spot for adolescents to its advantage!

And then, a couple of chapters later,

Amena still had questions. "Then why did you do it? You didn't - you don't care about me. You didn't really even know me then."

Why does ART like adolescent humans? This was exhausting.

[...]

ART must be recovering because it had to butt in with, Tell her you care about her. Use those words, don't tell her you'll eviscerate anything that tries to hurt her.

[Network Effect, Chapter 10]

ART does show protectiveness towards Amena's feelings, and urges MB to do the same.

ART also shows indulgence towards young people, who probably have left adolescent recently. In Artificial Condition, Murderbot's young client Tapan gets herself into a dangerous situation (again), then in a relatively safe environment of a hotel accommodation, inadvertently upsets MB with personal questions. ART helps MB calm down by playing its comfort media's soundtrack, then

In my feed, ART turned down the soundtrack to say, Young humans can be impulsive. The trick is keeping them around long enough to become old humans. This is what my crew tells me and my own observations seem to confirm it.

[Artificial Condition, Chapter 7]

An American psychoanalyst Erik Erikson has developed a theory of personality development which consists of 8 stages from infancy to old age. Each stage has a central theme with basic conflict. Successful resolution of conflicts at each stage results in development of healthy personality and acquisition of virtues.

Adolescence (12-18 years) is defined by its conflict of Identity vs. Role Confusion. Adolescents search for a sense of self and personal identity, through exploring values, goals, interests, and so on. If they are not given enough support and/or restricted in their exploration, they are left with role confusion - struggle to identify their purpose in life, not knowing who they are and what they want. Social relationships are also important in finding their roles in society. Successful resolution of this stage will lead to the virtue of fidelity that involves being able to commit one's self to others on the basis of accepting others even with differences.

The next stage is Early Adulthood (19-29 years), whose basic conflict is Intimacy vs. Isolation. This is when people learn to establish intimacy and relationships with others. If an individual can successfully form intimate, reciprocal relationships with others, love is the virtue to be gained. But, unsuccessful resolution in earlier stages can cause failure in this stage, resulting in isolation. Isolation can be the result of unresolved identity crises, fear of rejection, etc.

This stage thoery was developed in the 1950s. Since then, societies have changed somewhat and many young people can afford to be in "not a child, but not quite grown-up yet" stage for longer.

Presumably, machine intelligences, however sophisticated like ART, do not need to be influenced by physiological changes associated with hormones. Humans are largely influenced by nature part of nature/nurture, but for AIs, nurture (experience) is a lot more significant in forming their personalities. Having been "brought up" in loving human family environment with Iris as its "sibling", ART has developed very good understandings of human development as well as enormous tolerance. Having been interacting with many, many university students (presumably still 18-22 ish), it knows how important adolescent is to their later development in their characters.

One of the fundamental reasons why ART immediately took to Murderbot, in my view, is that it recognised adolescence in it. Whatever its human-equivalent chronological age was when they met, MB had only been governor-module-free for 4 years or so, and its experience of interacting with real people autonomously was very limited. MB was smart and competent in its functions, but also extremely vulnerable and awkward. It fits the definition of adolescence of not knowing its new role (not an appliance anymore)in the world.

So, ART's initial interaction with MB and protectiveness it exhibited were largely because ART was basically kind to vulnerable young people and MB was one. (Their 'relationship' evolves rapidly, but it is getting too long, so I stop. For now.)

----

Addendum

ART was not exactly gentle to Three which had had less-than-1-cycle of experience at being autonomous. It was more like a colt than a human adolescent. Must have been stress and anxiety talking.

Does an advanced AI have an equivalent of adolescence?? (probably mild, being hormone-free)

#the murderbot diaries #perihelion #murderbot #asshole research transport #meta #ask the perihelion

[emotionalmessss]

Dead End Pt 3

A/N: I didn't think that I would be expanding on this anymore, but I got a few requests to, so here you go. :) (really quickly edited, sorry for any mistakes)

Synopsis: chrollo comes back for his ex-girlfriend who managed to escape his grasp. Non-canon. No spoilers.

Warnings: implied violence, implied murder, yandere, obsession, manipulation, chrollo is a piece of shit, reader is at her wits end, kidnapping, forced relationship, isolation. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 4.1K

It had been nearly three days since Chrollo and I were reunited. If you can even qualify kidnapping as being reunited. Three fucking days of being stuck in a singular hotel room with nothing to do. Luckily, Chrollo spent most of his time away from me, dealing with whatever business he wiggled himself into. While he was away, he granted me the privilege of being allowed to use the television. He even went as far as to bring me some books to occupy myself from his absence. 

But nothing could fill the void of emptiness that grew inside of me. The feeling only magnified when I would roll over from the soft sheets and see that there was a note on his side of the nightstand. 

I’ll be back by dinner. Make sure to eat. Enjoy and behave. 

Love, 

Chrollo.  

Love. It was a funny word to me now. I knew that this treatment was far from the act of being loved. The thought of It made the insides of my stomach knot up, clawing their way to the back of my throat. I couldn’t even fathom ever loving a man like Chrollo. I believe that in his own twisted way he does love me, but the feeling was not returned.

Everything that he did was just him attempting to prove that he had control over me. That was it .   

Even when he wasn’t here, he was always trying to show the power he held over me. Even in the most subtle of ways. I was brought food once a day by room service when he was absent, knowing that this was a show of it. He knew that I wouldn’t even think about trying to escape or ask for help, because he would kill every single person in this hotel if I tried. Chrollo knew that I would never put the lives of others in danger for my own. 

As much as I yearned for the freedom I had worked so hard for, I wasn’t ready to take that kind of leap. Yet . 

I rolled over slightly, tossing the note onto the ground after crumpling it. I often found myself doing petty things like this. Sometimes I wouldn’t even eat the food that Chrollo sent to our room, just to piss him off. He didn’t really seem to care, but it has only been a few times. That only pissed me off more. His stupid calm expression, that tiny smile that pulled at his lips whenever I would scream at him - I hated everything about him. 

The only times that I could escape him briefly were in my dreams. For those few short hours, I was at peace. I often found myself back at home. My real home. Surrounded by my friends and my family. I woke up crying, missing those small moments with my friends and family and dreading the present. I would give anything to go back to those times and re-write my future. I would have walked in the other direction as soon as I saw that raven haired monster, his real self concealed by a gentleman act. 

It would be a lie if I said I didn’t enjoy the beginning of our relationship. Chrollo showered me with affection and anything that I have ever desired. He made me feel safe, and protected. He brought security into my life when I had none. And he tore it all away from me all the same. 

There wasn’t much to do in here and I had gotten bored of reading and watching the TV after a few hours. 

I would kill to have my phone back in my possession, even only for a moment. I had managed to make a very few select friends during my time away from Chrollo. With my sudden and unexplained absence - they were probably worried about me, because I told them nothing about my past. It was better to say nothing than to try and explain the situation. It would only put them at risk. It would be nice to at least tell them that I was okay and not to worry. 

I sighed, checking the time on the analogue alarm clock next to me. 

4:35PM

It was only a matter of time before Chrollo came back and I hadn’t even moved a muscle, nor did I really want to. My body was weighed down heavily with mental fatigue. My bones felt like they were filled with lead, making me want to stay curled up in bed all day. I knew that I was starting to feel depressed, but I didn’t want to admit it. My thoughts needed to be clear if I ever wanted to escape. 

Just as my thoughts had predicted, I heard the front door opening and closing soon after.   

I shifted over in the direction of the sound, pulling the blankets down slightly as I watched Chrollo step inside. He was still wearing his suit and bandana, but he was carrying some bags alongside him. His eyes met mine for a moment before shifting towards the table in the corner. 

I moved my gaze away from him, flipping over and facing the wall instead. 

“You haven’t touched any of the food I’ve ordered for you.” He hummed in thought. “Why is that?” 

“No appetite.” I grumbled back, not really wanting to talk to him. I curled up further into the soft blankets, caccooning myself from his stare. 

“You need to eat, darling. Would you prefer I order you something else? I know that-” I cut him off before he could finish what he was saying. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard and I couldn’t handle it anymore. 

“I’m not fucking hungry. That’s usually what happens when you’re trapped in a fucking room with no human interaction for days.” I gritted, pushing myself up from my laying down position. 

Chrollo watched me from the end of the bed, his expression stoic and unnerving. His hands were still holding on the white bags that had tissue paper sticking out of it. His eyes were scanning over me, calculating his next moves carefully. 

“I see.” He said. “You’ll be happy to know that I have made plans for us tonight, so you won’t be trapped in this fucking room for much longer.” Chrollo shifted slightly, moving towards me as he placed the bag onto the edge of the bed. 

I glanced down at it. I could tell just by looking at the bag that whatever was inside of it was expensive and well beyond anything that I could ever dream to afford. This isn’t a surprise to me, as Chrollo often bought things that were way out of what I would ever think of purchasing for myself. I stopped asking why by the third time he spoiled me with a purse or piece of clothing that costed three times my rent. 

I wouldn’t lie, it did feel nice at first. 

“What plans?” I asked, genuinely curious at his proposition. 

“I booked us a reservation at the restaurant downstairs. You’ll feel much better after you eat.” His lips pulled into a small smile that never reached his eyes. 

Ignoring his last sentence, which clearly wasn’t true in the slightest, I adjusted myself against the headboard. “What if I don’t want to go?” 

Chrollo’s head tilted ever so slightly, like he was challenging my words silently. “You were just complaining about being stuck in this room, and now that you have the opportunity to go out, you don’t want to?” 

I clenched my teeth at him. “That wasn’t what I meant and you know that.” 

Chrollo pushed the bag towards me slowly. “No matter. We’re going. Tonight is a special night.” 

I gave him a quizzical look, my brows pulling together as I watched him go towards the sofa. He pulled up his dress pants slightly before he sat down, adjusting himself accordingly. 

Before I could ask what he meant by that, he was speaking up again. “Your clothes are in the bag. We don’t have much time.” He didn’t even glance up from his book that was now opened, instead he focused on the contents that looked to be in some different language. 

I found myself grabbing the bag and storming off towards the bathroom, grumbling to myself and slamming the door shut. I made sure that the door was locked before showering and doing everything that I needed to do. I put on a little bit of makeup and fixed my hair, which took me longer than I would’ve liked since I hadn’t done it in awhile. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had gotten all dressed up. 

My hands reached out for the bag, pulling out the tissue paper and dropping it onto the counter. I pulled out the dress, my eyes taking in every detail as I scoffed. It was beautiful. Of course it was fucking beautiful. I slipped on the smooth satin dress, looping my arms through the thin spaghetti straps. 

The fabric was incredibly soft, hugging the sides of my torso before flaring out slightly by my hips. There was a slit traveling half way up my left thigh, showing off my legs. If I moved too quickly I surely would flash somebody. The material left very little to the imagination as it hugged my figure tightly.  

“Bastard.” I hissed.

I pushed open the bathroom door, walking back over to where Chrollo sat. He must’ve heard my soft footsteps on the carpet because he finally looked up from his book. His eyes met mine for a moment before he slowly scanned over my body. I heard the soft snap of his book closing before he pushed himself off the couch. 

Something other than lack of interest crossed his features for once, his eyes narrowing on my body as he took a step forward. 

“I knew this would look great on you.” He reached out for my hand, bringing it up to his lips before placing a soft kiss on my pale skin. “You look stunning.” 

I pulled my hand away, not too fast, but quick enough to let him know that I didn’t want him touching me. 

“Thank you.” I looked away from his unrelenting stare, instead focusing on the ground. 

“We’re leaving now, I don’t want to be late.” Chrollo stepped closer to me again, his arm wrapping around my waist as he guided me towards the front door. 

I followed him closely, the rough material of his suit brushing up against my arms. His arm was tucked into the crook of my waist, pulling me along slowly. I carefully balanced on my feet, scared that I would fall on these ridiculously tall heels. Whether Chrollo picked these out because he thought they were nice, or because I wouldn’t be able to run in them - I had no idea. 

“I want you to behave tonight. No running. No screaming. No asking for help.” Chrollo broke the silence that floated in the air as we descended in the elevator. 

I rested my ass against the railing, giving my feet a small break from standing straight. I fiddled with my nails, choosing to ignore his words. Did he really think that I’d try running away from him while surrounded by hundreds of innocents? Obviously not. He was smarter than that. He wanted me to know that I couldn’t do anything. That I would have to be on my best behavior tonight for the safety of others.

“You’ve been good lately, let’s keep it that way.” His tone was firm and warning, his body turning slightly towards me. 

I held back a snarky remark at his words, reminding myself that this was not the time. 

“You don’t have to remind me.” I said, pushing myself off the rail as the doors opened. 

“Good girl.” He cooed, his arm finding my waist once again. 

We slowly made our way through the lobby, which was almost empty at this time. There were a few people hovering around the front desk, more than likely checking into their rooms. Another group of people occupied the couches near the front doors. I noticed a woman resting against the back of the couch, holding onto her child, rocking back and forth while cooing softly in his ear. She smiled as she swayed, kissing the top of his head. She must’ve felt me staring as we passed because she looked up for a moment. Her soft eyes found mine and she smiled, which I returned before glancing back forward. 

I moved my eyes up to glance at Chrollo’s expression, which hadn’t changed. His eyes were directed forward while his lips smiled slightly. I didn’t want him thinking that I was trying to signal for help, which I clearly wasn’t. 

We approached the entrance for the restaurant, it was located in the far left side of the lobby, near the sliding front doors. The lighting was dim, which was a complete difference between the brightness of the lobby. It took my eyes a few moments to adjust as we stepped inside, blinking my eyes rapidly to see better in the sudden darkness. 

I felt Chrollo’s hand drop from my waist as he approached the podium, leaning over and whispering something at the host. The man nodded and grabbed two menus, waiting for us to follow suit. 

My legs moved before my brain had time to process, planting myself back at Chrollo’s side as we made our way to our table. The restaurant wasn’t overly busy, but most of the patrons never glanced up from their tables as we crossed paths. I teetered on my heels slightly as Chrollo pulled out the small chair for me, his lips cracked with a genuine smile. 

The host passed us both menus before letting us know that our waiter would be with us soon. 

I perched myself awkwardly on the chair, not wanting to accidentally ride my dress up further than it already had. The ambience of the restaurant was perfect and I felt very out of place by being here. Luckily it was pretty dim in here, and nobody would be able to tell just how uncomfortable I looked from where we sat.  

Shifting my butt against the chair, I looked up at Chrollo, who was staring at me. He looked like he was admiring me, in his own sick way, but I couldn’t be sure. 

“It’s a shame that you haven’t been out in such a long time, darling. Someone as beautiful as you doesn’t deserve to be living the way you were.” Chrollo mused, opening his menu and flipping through the pages casually. 

My mouth parted slightly at his condescending words, feeling them sting at my heart slightly. He’s kidding, right? He is the reason I had to jump from place to place, living at the bare minimum for months on end. My face attempted to mask the irritability that etched across it. 

“It’s funny that you would say that, Chrollo.” I started, pushing myself closer to the table. “If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve been just fine.” I opened up my menu, distracting myself with the options of overpriced dishes. 

I heard Chrollo sigh slightly,  his eyes moved away from his menu and back up to mine as soon as the last sentence left my lips. I could tell that he was irritated just by the slightest shift in his eyes, but he easily masked the annoyance with another grin. 

“On the contrary darling, I’ve provided you with everything that you could ever want.” Chrollo grinned more, his annoyance hidden within his dark eyes. I could feel a small linger of hurt in his aura, but it was miniscule. Almost as if he was pricked by a small pin, causing nothing more than a pinch. 

He went to continue, only to be stopped by our waiter approaching our table. He smiled warmly at the two of us before speaking up, “Can I get you guys started with anything to drink?” 

Chrollo ordered a bottle of some fancy red that I wasn’t particularly interested in drinking, but it would help me get through his company. He also decided that he would order for both of us, more than enough appetizers and entrees for two people. His menu snapped closed and I felt mine disappear from my grip. Snapping out of my daze, Chrollo was smiling softly at me as the waiter disappeared towards the back with a thanks. 

“What if I didn’t want the steak?” I asked, deadpanned. 

Chrollo placed the small napkin across his lap and smiled. “You love steak.” 

“Maybe I don’t anymore.” I replied, childishly. 

“Don’t be so stubborn and ruin a special evening, darling.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

My eyes locked onto his and furrowed my brows. “You said that earlier. Why is tonight special?” 

Chrollo hummed, not giving me an answer. This annoyed me. There could be any explanation on why tonight was so special , and not knowing made me anxious. I remember him briefly mentioning that Feitan was in the city and helping him, but he said nothing more. I tried my best to avoid knowing about his business with the Troupe, mostly because I didn’t want to be involved in the sick things that they did. 

I pulled myself closer to the table and leaned down closer to him. “Chrollo.”

“Feitan and I finished our work here, so tomorrow we can go back home. I know you’ve been feeling isolated lately.” He smiled up at me, but I could tell that he wasn’t giving me the full truth. 

There was that hint of glimmer in his eyes that I had recognized months ago, that look of pleasure that only crossed his face in very few circumstances, and most of them were from unspeakable things. This was the second time that I had noticed it since our reunion. The first was in my apartment, when he caged me in. He knew that I had nowhere to go, and then there it was, that sick twisted expression morphing in place to mock me. My body clammed up at the thought and my mind started to reel. 

“That’s it?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as I tried to extract the missing information. “You know that I don’t want to go back there with you, I have my own home now.” Repeating myself for the hundredth time. 

“Oh yes, there's something else I forgot to mention.” Chrollo hummed. I watched as he turned slightly, pulling out a small box from the inside of his jacket pocket. “I picked this up earlier for you.” He carefully placed the box onto the table top in front of me. 

I glanced down at it, unsure of what to make of it. Cautiously, I reached for it, holding onto the small box between my shaky fingers. I stared at it for a few moments, debating on if I really did want to know what was inside. 

“Go on.” Chrollo edged, that same shit eating grin on his face. 

My lungs expanded as I breathed in deeply, pulling at the ribbon on the top of the box. The wrapping paper fell apart in my hands and I pulled open the box, closing my eyes for a moment. Light flooded back into my vision as my eyes dropped to the contents of the box. 

A phone? 

I looked back up to Chrollo in confusion. “It’s a phone? Why?” It was the same phone I had previously, but looked slightly different. I knew this was too good to be true and didn’t make much sense. 

“It’s the same one you had before, but this one is newer.” Chrollo explained softly, his voice lined with a small bit of amusement. 

I clicked open the phone, scanning through it quickly. Everything looked normal. Maybe he was being generous? My gut instincts told me otherwise, he would never be kind without some hidden motives behind his actions. I scrolled through, clicking on every app that was there in search of some hidden deception. 

“I managed to back up a few of your photos from your previous phone.” Chrollo and I made eye contact for a brief moment, noticing that he was smiling genuinely this time, I found my fingers navigating towards the camera roll. “I know how attached you are to your personal memories.” 

My jack slacked open as the app loaded up, revealing immediately new pictures that I did not recognize. My vision swam as my eyes tried to focus on the series of photos that appeared on that tiny screen that I held in my trembling fingers. The curiosity I felt moments ago replaced itself with utter disgust and fear as soon as I saw the pictures of the mutilated bodies. 

The phone slipped from my grip and my hand covered my mouth before a sound could escape. 

My… Friends. He…Killed them all. I shook my head, hand still over my lips as I leaned back against the chair. Tears stung at my eyes, my head swam with fear, making it hard to see straight. 

“What’s wrong, darling? You don’t like your present?” Chrollo cooed. “Maybe next time you should be more grateful for everything I’ve done for you, hm?” He taunted, making me squeak and shake my head faster. 

This is all my fault. He killed them because of me. Every single precaution that I took for them was in vain. I kept them sheltered, hidden from the truth, but it proved to be fruitless. Chrollo inevitably found them and killed them, because he could. This was his payback for me running away. My short lived escape dug me into an even deeper hole than I could have ever imagined. 

I choked back a sob, glancing around the restaurant. No one knew what was happening here, they were all too busy enjoying their food or deep into their conversations - while I sat, crying, shaking, furious. This is why Feitan was in town. His torture methods. He helped Chrollo. I gritted my teeth together so hard that I thought they’d shatter. 

“You- you- you fucking monster.” I hissed, my red eyes meeting his gaze. 

My fists clenched beneath the table, chest rising and falling in anger. “You fucking-” 

“My apologies for the wait.” The waiter interrupted me before I could spew out a slurry of curses at Chrollo. 

He set down the wine glasses, filling them up with the red liquid. I gagged slightly and tore my eyes away from the crimson liquid that looked a little bit too much like blood right now. My face flushed and I looked anywhere but at Chrollo, fearing that I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back. 

“Your food should be out soon, is there anything else I can get you both?” I refused to look up at the nice man, knowing that my expression would certainly have him concerned for my well being.   

“No, that should be good for now, thank you.” Chrollo nodded, smiling cheerfully. 

I remained glued to my seat, fighting the urge to run away, knowing that it would probably do no good. But I couldn’t fight off the strong desires my brain sent to my nerves to flee and never return. 

“Aren’t you going to have any wine? It might calm your nerves.” He spoke, his voice hidden with a small sense of faux concern. 

Tears flowed down my face as I looked back up at him. “You are a disgusting human, if you even qualify as human.” I seethed, teeth gritted together. “You’re sick in the head if you think I’ll ever be with yo-” 

“Enough.” Chrollo snapped, hushing my next words as he brought the glass of wine up to his lips. “You don’t want to make a scene, it would be a shame to have to kill an entire restaurant, but I’m not against it.” He warned, placing the glass down. 

My mouth hung open. “I’m also not opposed to killing a mother and an infant.” He continued, referring to the couple that I had smiled at in the lobby. 

A soft gasp left my lips and more tears of hate blurred my vision. I felt my entire body begin to tremble again, whether it was from the hate boiling up in my stomach or fear, I had no idea. 

“Now, be a good girl for me and let’s not spoil the rest of this evening.” My eyes once again met his. His hair loosely framed his dark eyes which seemed to read into my mind. 

There was no escaping him.

#yandere chrollo #yandere #chrollo hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucifer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x oc #long reads #obsession #kidnapped reader #phantom troupe #chrollo

[murasaki-cha]

So I read Serena.... wow. I'm gonna make a long post expressing my opinions because THERE ARE A LOT!! (there's pictures too!)

These are going to be just my thoughts and how I understood the story + characters so if anyone disagrees, sorry but our vibes don't match, please don't come at me.

Now first of all can they adopt me??

Ok going to be serious here (not for long) this manhwa is so good!! I have read another manhwa of Ina-nim, the author/artist, called "Black Winter" (it's amazing go check it out) so I knew this was going to have layers upon layers as a story. AND IT DID!!

The story is so complex, everyone is scheming something, no one says the full truth and you never know when you might get stabbed in the back.

I'm going to be honest, I've known about Serena since it came out and I didn't want to read it. Not because I thought the story was bad or anything, since I knew how great this author is already thanks to their previous story, but because I knew it was going to be messy. Super messy. And it is, it is a hot dumpster fire mess. And I didn't really want to deal with it since it would have been exhausting and I would have dropped it or put it on hold. But by now (chapter 72 as of the latest update) I think that it has become more "stable" to say and I found it easier to enjoy the story since I read it in one go.

I particularly loved that none of the characters were good. No one. But no one is exactly bad either. Everyone here is just gray, they're flawed, they do bad stuff, they hurt each other. No one is right or wrong. We see things form their perspective and we see their reasoning but whether we sympathise with them is up to us because, let's be real, even their thought process can be fucked up at times.

Besides Victor. Victor is pure evil. If we throw holy water at Victor he will start melting. Victor should be burned.

Now moving along let's talk about the main characters.

Starting with Serena. First of all MOTHER!!🛐-

Now Serena is the type of fl I expected to get lots of hate(and she did). She had a lover while she was married, she was way too stubborn, she thinks she's better than everyone, etc. And yeah she did all those things. She's also a very traumatised little girl who had her entire world shattered at the age of 17, had to marry a stranger and feel her worth slip through her fingers. Serena is constantly paranoid due to her past experiences and the way she's been treated. She's desperately grasping for whatever little power she can have in the begining.

Now that is not to say she's never done anything wrong. Her using Fredrick as merely a way to destress and a shield, her prejudice against Eiser simply because of his family, her thinking she deserves to be in charge even if she is unexperienced simply because she is a Serenity, her refusing to see anything from anyone's perspective but hers. She's too prideful, too stubborn, too guarded.

But she's a great businesswoman, she takes her tasks seriously and she's super intelligent. The moment she started working on the hotel she changed because she was finally in her element. That spoiled, angry Serena in the beginning was simply what the isolation had done to her, the way it had fundamentally changed her. She started seeing everything in a new light when she started learning how to manage the hotel and being more open minded while still being guarded. Serena is a perfect morally gray main character, she's flawed, she's human.

Next we have Eiser. DADDY-

I swear I'm not being biased when I say I loved Eiser SO MUCH! First things first, he is an asshole. Not gonna sugar coat it. In fact that is the sugar coating. He is quite possibly the most secretive man alive, we know exactly 3 things about his past in the last 72 chapters and I'm not even being sarcastic, that's the total amount. And that is probably what makes him so interesting as a character to me at least.

One of my favorite things about Eiser was that he didn't have any feelings about Serena in the beginning. Yeah he mostly saw her as a means to an end and felt a smidge of responsibility because of her brother, but that was it. He honestly did not care about what Serena did or thought. Eiser's only objective is to save Serenity hotel, probably fuck up his family along the way because screw them and the rest is an enigma. He doesn't do feelings, not anymore at least.

We learn from the beginning that he's not a "good guy", he's not Male Lead™ that's mean to fl to protect her or to not get close to her and his whole world revolves around her etc. He's not just this guy meant to be a love interest, he's a whole other well constructed character. He has his own goals (which we never know what they are because his thought's are more secretive and guarded than the Vatican Apostolic Archives), he follows the most efficient way to achieve those goals and that's all that matters to him. He recognized Serena's skills all along yet still thought of her as a spoiled little princess because he didn't care about knowing her, didn't need to, that wasn't going to help him.

There really isn't much development about Eiser aside his relationship with Serena (but that's a talk about further below), but that's kind of on point for him. Unlike Serena, Eiser has been doing business for years now, he knows how to run things, he knows how to work with people, he has experience and skill and friends (surprisingly). Eiser's role is more of a mentor for Serena than as someone who also needs to learn.

And last Frederick (gonna hide behind a chair real quick)

Don't come at me for this but to be 100% honest, Frederick was as interesting to me as a white sheet of paper. Most of the time he was just there. That's it. Look the man is mysterious I agree and his character would have been so so interesting but he literally gave me nothing. I swear I'm being unbiased, even if Eiser didn't exist this man would have done nothing to impact me as a reader. But I think that shows how important or how much impact he made to Serena's story.

Frederick is interesting in the fact that we don't know his role in the story. He says he's doing everything to help Serena yet will that make him an antagonist or not is yet to be revealed. Also Frederick isn't even his name??? so there's that. Unlike the first two, he appears too few times and we don't really know what's up with him. So far he has made it his main objective and like basically his personality to protect Serena from his employers.

I liked that it showed he came here with impure intentions and his own goals but ultimately he just made his entire world revolve around keeping Serena safe and that kind of bumped me. The most interesting thing about him so far right now is the mystery of his past (who he killed, what's his true identity) and whether he'll be an antagonist by the end or not.

And now we move to the most dreaded thing. The romance.

I'm gonna say it straight up, Serena x Eiser for the win. Enemies to lovers has gone and done it again and by god did I EAT IT UP!! They were mother and father fr!!

Now let me express my opinions on both couples here with actual words.

First I want to talk about Serena and Frederick. From the beginning this story did not have a love triangle, at least for me. Serena and Frederick always looked like a relationship born out of necessity (which Serena later on confirms that that's what it might have been all along). Serena craved for whatever warmth and protection she could get and Frederick became kind of a safe place for her. She essentially used Frederick as a distraction, a means of relaxation and someone to just vent. She never properly saw him as his own person or equal but as a means of escape from her struggles.

Meanwhile Frederick himself didn't exactly love Serena in a pure way. He loves her yes, but he's also obsessed with her. He feels the need to make her need him so he can stay by her side. He wants to be the only one seeing her weak and vulnerable, caging her and himself in this relationship. And the only way he knows she will be by his side is if she uses him. And the more Serena takes charge of things as head of Serenity and builds herself up, the more Frederick notices that she's slipping away from him so he desperately clings to the mission of protecting her from his employer. He even admits these himself:

Perhaps they did have something beautiful in the beginning but it slowly developed into a relationship that caged them both.

Now sit down because I'm gonna be talking about mommy and daddy (I unironcally call them that no I'm not joking) and this talk is going to be a loooong one *cracks knuckles*

Serena and Eiser were never the picture perfect couple, furthest thing from it and they were not planning on trying to change that anytime soon. They were toxic, they hurt each other and they didn't care about each other. To Eiser, Serena was just the girl he was supposed to marry to save Serenity and to Serena, Eiser was the man that took Serenity and might kill her in the future. None of them saw each other in a good light and none of them bothered to understand the other. Eiser was completely indifferent towards Serena and Serena just wanted to hurt him. Off to a great start because they were already at rock bottom so the only way to go is up!

The way their relationship developed was really natural and well paced. Everyone knows that the beauty of a good enemies to lover is the slowburn AND THE SLOWBURN WAS SLOWBURNING HERE LEMME TELL YOU! They first needed to see each other in a new lighting as equal business partners to go any further into their relationship or start trusting each other. They're both very calculative people and Eiser did see that, has always seen that, so he resulted to manipulating Serena into "competing" with him to give her the chance to properly work in the hotel. And Serena took the bait but never played right into the palm of his hand and always took charge of things her own way.

It was important for them to recognize each other's full capabilities, not just with the veil of "Grayan" or "Spoiled little princess". Most importantly it was essential for Serena to see that Eiser is in fact truly helping her family without any ulterior motives (that are harmful to her family at least) and never had any plans of taking over and eliminating her. And while Eiser was always aware of Serena's abilities and respected her as an individual, he always too disinterested in her to see how fully capable she is. One of the funniest things in my opinion was how Eiser was showering Serena with praises in his head 24/7 yet verbally he would break out in hives before complimenting her. (Istg the communication in this household died back in that carriage with Serena's family)

And that was the biggest wall that blocked them from going further with their relationship, so as soon as that was gone, well would you look at that, they can actually get along just fine and decently! And the romance just came along to them naturally.

Eiser was always drawn to Serena since he first saw her, he was always intrigued by her actions even if that left him puzzled. He always read people for his benefit, but Serena simply caught his eye every time by pure curiosity. He enjoys seeing her expressions and reactions and her journey to rising to her rightful place. Plus, Eiser always felt a kind of kinship with Serena. He saw the loss, betrayal and devastation in her and recognized it as the same as his own. The fight Serena put all these years to try and keep her place and protect what's hers is what he wished he had done all those years back and what someone had done for him when he was at his lowest. It was only after he truly got to know Serena that all these feelings started to subconsciously transform into something else, something even he isn't truly aware of.

Serena surprised me by being the first one to recognize(?), in a way, she had fallen but I'm not complaining, it was beautiful. Serena's main problem with Eiser was that she couldn't trust him, for very obvious reasons, that mans true thoughts are locked in a safe inside a safe inside another safe that happens to be inside a warehouse in Antarctica. I think the most important thing for Serena was to get to realize that Eiser was trying to truly help her family and the hotel. To me there were 3 major moments where Serena's feelings for Eiser changed: When they went to visit President Harol's mansion and he took the peaches and also defended her, when he said he'll build another hotel by the seaside during their date and when he told her he didn't hate her. All these moment helped Serena see that she had made a wrong assumption about Eiser and even though that wasn't enough to dispel all her suspicions towards him, rightfully so because Serena isn't an idiot, it made her trust him a bit more and be more comfortable around him.

Also their backstory, with Eiser being Serena's "prince" was so freaking cute. And the way she always looked for him when she went to those masquerade parties as a way of comfort, sobbing on the floor. If you go back and reread, you'll see that Serena has always been conscious of Eiser from the very start, albeit subconsciously. She always described him touching her like "The spot where he touched burned even after he had let go", or how she was conscious of being dressed "thinly" in front of Eiser but never in front of anyone else, not even Frederick. In my opinion, she had recognised Eiser as the masked prince at the time or knew subconsciously, but because of the animosity between him and her prejudice against him because he was a Grayan, she didn't want to admit it because that would admit that Eiser was anything but a simple marriage and business partner to her.

And now with the release of chapter 72, I am dreading the road in which their relationship is heading and how far back it may devolve. Like I don't blame Eiser because 1) he doesn't know about Serena's trauma 2) he saw red after seeing the way that man was hurting his wife I support the Grayan in him taking over at that moment. But unfortunately for Serena he just proved her greatest fear when it came to him, that he's still very much a Grayan no matter how much he despises them. Her reliving her childhood trauma and seeing Victor in Eiser could revert her to earlier Serena where she was always paranoid and scared of Eiser, but now with proof that he is in fact just as dangerous as she thought him to be. Worse thing is, she can't even go to Fredrick for comfort because she's suspicious of him too so she's truly alone (she has Sui but Sui was there before too and we saw the state in which Serena was in back than). This is a very complicated and simply put shit situation for them, it could possibly be one of their roughest patches in their entire relationship and it's going to take understanding from both Eiser and Serena to get over it and possibly, hopefully, truly trust each other after this. Please Ina-nim please I'm putting my trust in you!! (Ina-nim played us all like a cheep kazoo with chapter 72 like I could not have been more wrong and thank fuck for that! Never have I been so happy to be so incredibly wrong about something! War is over people cheered everyone cried tears of joy!!)

And lastly, thank you for coming to my ted talk, this entire post was just a way for me to vent all the thoughts this webtoon gave me and If you read it, good for you, I love you. As a reward have this collage of chibi mommy and daddy being silly goofy because my chosen career path requires me to have adobe illustrator and I never use it responsibly

#serena #selena #serena webtoon #serena manhwa #serena serenity #eiser leinz grayan #frederick bloom #serena x eiser #manhwa memes #manhwa #webtoon

[hee0soo]

Jakarta

Summary: Going to Indonesia proved to be an emotional roller coaster for Jisoo

November 2022

Jisoo was silent during the entire flight to Jakarta. Since the fight, the day before, she hadn´t talked to any of the members.

Even Minho who had followed her hadn´t heard her talk once.

The only thing she managed to do was cry and when she finally stopped, she felt numb and empty!

Jeongin had stuck to her like glue but even his jokes hadn´t managed to get more then a suffering smile out of the girl.

Chan had told the other members what had happened when both Jisoo and Hyunjin had gone to bed.

The next day, Jisoo had woken up to 4 out of 8 members on her bed, reassuring her that whatever was said did not apply to any of them!

But now she was stuck on a plane with the person she wanted to see the least but at the same time was the only person who could fix this mess.

Hyunjin had sat behind her on the plane. He watched over her like a hawk, noticing how she chatted with a certain ATEEZ captain during the entire flight over KKTalk while listening to her playlist. Interesting. He would have to ask her about it after he managed to apologize!

Next to him Jisung tried cheering him up but just like Jeongin, he failed. The dancer replied with short answers only and wanted to suffer in silence.

It wasn´t until two days later that the situation took a turn for the better! The girl started talking again, well not to Hyunjin but the members guessed that it was better than nothing.

The group made their way from the Hotel to the venue, to get ready for the first concert there and when Soundcheck started, Jisoo could finally smile a little.

Seeing Stays helped immensely to lift her mood up and while the members were busy jumping around, she took the role as the cheerleader very seriously.

But the fans couldn´t help but notice the awkward and still somewhat tense atmosphere between JiHyun. Both members could feel the stares of Stays and were wondering what the fans thought.

Jisoo found out when she went on twitter after the soundcheck. The group members were getting ready for the actual concert, which meant Hair, make-up and outfits.

To find a pair of shoes that would fit her brace proved to be a hassle the stylists weren´t prepared for so the girl decided to use the widened converse she was wearing already. It didn´t look great but it did what it was supposed to do.

The show started off with Maniac as the first song and while Jisoo was happy to sing for Stays, she enviously watched her members perform on the added platform further away from her. In reality it was only a short distance but the girl still felt isolated from them.

She swallowed her bitterness and tried to do her best. Jisoo even tried to at least get closer to the members but was promptly send back by Chan with on stern look.

It wasn´t fair! The female hadn´t plan on dancing and she was allowed to walk so why wasn´t she allowed to go over.

Logically she knew that he was only looking out for her but it still sucked!

Jisoo managed to hold it together for the first segment und about 7 songs, until the instrumental of Lonely St. started playing. It wasn´t a song with choreography but it was a song with a lot of emotion and since she was confined to the chair.

The emotions of the fight and her foot started to cloud her mind, her sight got blurry and her voice grew weak.

When her cue came in over the ear peace, Jisoo tried to sing her part with confidence but the words got stuck in her throat.

8 heads whipped around to look at the 9th member but one of them was faster than the others. Hyunjin ran over to her and hugged her tightly. The other members hot on his heels while still singing!

Jisoo startled at the sudden touch but melted into the hug shortly after. Even if Hyunjin had hurt her, he was still her best friend and his hugs were still the most soothing to her.

“I´m sorry Soo-ah!” he pulled away a bit and spoke it softly but loud enough for her to still hear him. He knew that the hand held mic wouldn´t pick their voices up.

Jisoo nodded. She understood why he was so mad at her and the silence hurt her more than the words that were said.

Taglist: @alyszaen @smh-anon @andjeoidjavo

#stray kids #stray kids 9th member #9th member of stray kids #kpop added member #kpop addition #kpop au #kpop extra member #stray kids addition #stray kids female member #stray kids female addition

[dommesticpet]

Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms And Lava

It’s been a few years.   Like most of you, things sort of hit the skids in March 2020 - I just got back from a trip to the Ice Planet that is the East Coast, and we were all waiting to see if things were going to be OK.   And the answer is, at least for me personally, things moved along.   Sure, I may have flushed 10% of my lifespan so far down the toilet, but who hasn’t?

My best pal from way back in college died three years ago today.  It wasn’t COVID, it was most likely snowballing self-medicated depression with lots of empty bottles and other substances discovered by his ex-husband. Given I saw signs of problems when I visited him the previous November, I am still beating myself up a bit for not being a bigger tight-ass about all of this.  Take care of yourself, is what I’m getting at, because people will miss you terribly for the rest of their live if you don’t.  I admit, this and the general isolation from most people I know living 6 or more hours away have not lead to the last few years being exactly fantastic.  But hey, that’s about to change a bit.

The Dommestic Pet World Tour continues this week with the first business trip - or trip anywhere more than 100 miles away from home -  since February of 2020.   I’ve been playing “where is that cable?” this afternoon, and am so far mostly winning.  Sadly my plans for fun detours involving music stores and fried fish have been cut short by rescheduled business dinners and other things that are not me having fun for a couple of hours.   If there are interesting things open late at night near the hotel, though, I’m sure I’ll float around to at least one of them.  If nothing else, it is much cooler where I’m going than where I am right now.

We’ve dodged COVID so far.  I don’t know when or if we’ll ever go to a kink class thing.  Am I too old now?  I’ve probably regressed more than a bit, but as a wiser man than I once said “any crash you can walk away from is a good one.”  At least I’m moving around and I’m not wearing Kleenex boxes on my feet.

There are some of you I’m hoping to see again, although the last three years have not been great for the lines of communication.  I have no idea if my pals and pal-ish people are all still out there, but I hope you’re all doing well and hopeful that you’re having an excellent time doing whatever is going on out there, especially if it involves some sort of fried seafood.

See you out there!

#Mostly Personal

[theageoftheunderstatement]

Flood Magazine: Arctic Monkeys Take a Bow

Words: Matt Mitchell

Photos: Chapman Baehler

October 19, 2022

“What a death I died writing that song,” Alex Turner proclaimed in the second verse of “The Ultracheese,” the closing song on 2018’s Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino. A lot has changed since then, and the last two years have sparked a lot of rebirths. Arctic Monkeys know a thing or two about that, as the Sheffield quartet has gone through many eras since their inception in 2002 and their debut album, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not in 2006. The once-giddy teenagers in tracksuits erupting onstage 16 years ago eventually became crooning greasers with oiled hair and leather jackets, before settling into the tinted sunglasses, slicked-back hair, and rolled-up sleeves persona they’ve fully embraced lately. But the isolation Turner sang about in 2018, under the guise of a rock god vacationing on the part of the moon where Apollo 11 landed, has grown timeless and undefinable by any particular album-accompanying aesthetic.

On their seventh and latest LP, The Car, the band has undergone another transition. At times, the record sounds like an incubation of everything they’ve accomplished so far. But it’s not so much a victory lap as it is that all of the roads they’ve traveled for 20 years have now become one. After releasing five albums in seven years, it’s taken the band nearly 10 to make two more. Turner recognizes that, and sometimes wonders if he could get back into his productive headspace from the Humbug years. “Everything we’ve done recently seems to have taken a long time to complete,” he says, chuckling. “I guess there’s other factors involved, but [Loren Humphrey and I] were saying, ‘Wouldn’t it be great to try and do something in a week?,’ kind of in the spirit of how I used to.”

“I think there is still some of that band on [The Car], the ones who did the riffy stuff 10 years ago. It’s difficult to completely take that off the table.”

When the band made their long-awaited return to the forefront of rock music in 2018, Turner had ditched his Outsiders costume for a shaved head and tinted shades, sat down at the piano, and spun webs of hubris and daydreams. That lounge-singer persona Turner embodied is still there on the new record, but paired with other checkpoints in the Arctic Monkeys timeline, like the ballroom waltzes and string movements he composed for the 2010 movie Submarine, or the distortion tricks from 2013’s AM. “I think there is still some of that band on [The Car], the ones who did the riffy stuff 10 years ago,” Turner adds. “It’s difficult to completely take that off the table.”

Turner is at his best on The Car. His vocal range, a patented croon gliding into a captivating falsetto no longer underused, is fully fleshed-out as evidenced by the band’s recent performance of “Body Paint” on The Tonight Show, where Turner employs a specific grandeur in his onstage mannerisms. He’s an acolyte commanding the stage, and a bravado pours out of him, one of sensual and undeniable color even at the slightest twitch in his supersonic hips. But when he talks in private about his own work, he’s patient and takes as much time as he can to fully articulate what the work means to him. A full arc of personhood like that, in which there’s as much theatricality present as there is generosity, is a wealth Turner gleans across his records.

What makes The Car so different from something like AM or 2011’s Suck It and See is how Turner approaches the conceptual side of his own creativity. The algorithm of an Arctic Monkeys album now blurs the lines of its own tracklist, the throughlines extending beyond the limitations of one singular performance. “I stopped putting up those boundaries quite a long time ago,” Turner says. “For a while, I’ve been trying to get ‘the thing’ across over the 10 tracks or the 45 minutes, rather than try and do it in three. I’m not suggesting that that’s how it should be forever and always, but this time it seemed to go that way.”

In turn, The Car’s wholeness pulls in the same direction, the continuity building from track to track. Themes repeat in the lyrics like a connective tissue, but the record’s soul is held together by the feelings the arrangements evoke, which will be different for every listener. The music takes many shapes throughout, much like the early sketches of Whatever People I Say I Am. In the beginning, Turner wanted that record to tell a story across the timeline of one weekend, lyrically, with arrangements that fluttered across the large scope of the band’s interests. “I do feel like as time has gone by I’ve hopefully done a better job of joining up those dots,” Turner adds.

The dots arrive on opening track “There’d Better Be a Mirrorball,” which begins with strings, piano, and a harpsichord that feel very much like an intentional extension of where Tranquility Base left off. It’s only momentary, though, as Turner and company ooze quickly into a Funkadelic-esque odyssey on “I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am.” But Turner is a dramatist, a sonic thespian unafraid of threading his own restlessness and desire through 40 minutes of music. He sings of yesterdays and forgotten pleasures. The car on the album’s cover is just a MacGuffin; the mirrorball Turner yearns for is also a chandelier, a hotel notepad with a lump sum written on it, and a long goodbye.

Turner wrote most of Tranquility Base on the piano, because the guitar had lost its ability to give him ideas. That wasn’t entirely the case with The Car, as some songs were recorded while Turner was, as he phrases it, “stood up” playing the guitar, though he’d still sit on his piano bench and look at the possible directions of each track from there. The real magnitude of the band’s shift in sound comes, however, through Turner changing his approach to building the architecture of the songs themselves. “I think the main thing that’s changed in the last 10 years, versus the period before that, is I’ve been using the studio as part of the writing process, sketching out ideas for songs and recording them as it goes along,” he says. “How I was doing it before I had that space was writing on an acoustic guitar, or putting it through the rehearsal room, rather than the demo-recording, studio phase. I feel as if it’s had more of an effect on the way the records are coming out now, or at least as much as the introduction of the piano.”

“In those first few years, if somebody got a Moog synthesizer out, we’d be like, ‘What the fuck is going on? Are we gonna play this tomorrow night?’ We put limitations on [ourselves], certainly for the first two records.”

The songs on The Car are also a lot more collaborative than those on Tranquility Base were. One song stemmed from an idea that guitarist Jamie Cook had, and touring guitarist and keyboardist Tom Rowley even snagged a few co-writer credits after giving Turner some input during sessions. “I wrote around other people’s ideas a bit on this one,” Turner says. “On the first few records, I would always work on the lyrics, largely by myself and then bring them into the rehearsal room. That’s how the process worked then.” Writing around The Car began with the instrumental at the beginning of “Mirrorball.” The song’s story reacts immediately with those opening phrases in the music. “I figured out how to bridge that [opening phrase] into something that could be a pop song by the end. I feel as though the lyrics now take a lot more cues from what’s going on musically,” Turner adds. “And maybe, once upon a time, that was closer to the other way around.”

On Whatever People Say I Am and 2007’s Favourite Worst Nightmare, the lads weren’t thinking about the recording process. Instead, they were giving more consideration to how they would play each song live. “The criteria for the recorded version, when you eventually got to that point, was to make it sound as much like it did on the stage as possible,” Turner says. All of that’s changed, though. The band’s tenacity is strong enough to build a live set around compositions that are heavy sonic detours from previous work. “I think you arrive at that conclusion over time. There’s a confidence that didn’t exist then, that you’ll find a way to translate what you do on the records into something that may or may not fit into a show,” Turner adds. “I remember in those first few years, if somebody got a Moog synthesizer out, we’d be like, ‘What the fuck is going on? Are we gonna play this tomorrow night?’ We put limitations on [ourselves], certainly for the first two records.”

Arctic Monkeys have remained such a totem in popular culture since then that it’s hard to believe their first record’s success is partially due to the influence of MySpace. “I remember playing a show—I want to say it was in January 2004, in Sheffield—and word had gotten around about the band and people who’d come to see us from out of town,” Turner says. “I think we had a CD that had been passed around at some other shows before that. I remember that being quite overwhelming, the first time I can remember people knowing our songs and feeling as though they had a connection with them.”

This past summer marked 20 years since Turner, Cook, Matt Helders, and Andy Nicholson (who’s since been replaced by Nick O’Malley) first struck up the band, and the anniversary has been on Turner’s mind. Before they had a record deal they were broken up for a period and, when they reconciled, their goal didn’t extend too far beyond just going out and playing the small batch of songs they had booked. “I remember that in the beginning, to do a gig was the extent of our ambitions, to be quite honest,” Turner says. “Just getting on stage seemed pretty far out. Once we got through that first show, the whole thing shifted and I realized that I wanted to make this happen. Then, over the next few years, it got brought into focus.”

“I remember that in the beginning, to do a gig was the extent of our ambitions, to be quite honest. Just getting on stage seemed pretty far out.”

Songs from Arctic Monkeys’ first two decades, like “505,” “I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor,” and “Do I Wanna Know?,” have never left the setlist. Though the band has tumbled through different compositional habitats on tape, the songs always take different shapes once they cross the threshold of a crowd. As the guys have grown older, so have their performance styles. The rowdy stuff of old gets a new, more-composed sheen. The newer material explodes into wider versions once they’re played to a venue of hundreds. “I can’t lie, I think sometimes when we’re playing the old [songs], I do feel myself taking a moment to have a deep breath before we set off into those,” Turner says. “It’s been a while, anyway, since we played the way we did in 2005. The songs tend to all end up in a different place than where they were at the time the record was pressed. I think that keeps it exciting.”

During their recent show at Kings Theatre in Brooklyn, the band played “Mirrorball” and “Body Paint” for the first time. With a catalog as diverse as Arctic Monkeys’, it’s hard to gauge how the band’s large, still-growing fanbase will receive new work. Naturally, it was all copacetic, and the material is beginning to take on a life of its own onstage with an ensemble wider than what the band could fit into The Car. “I think things tend to become more exaggerated versions of themselves,” Turner says. “When we played ‘Body Paint,’ which gets a bit Mark Ronson-y at the end, onstage the other day under the lights, suddenly it became more robust. The energy in the room when we were playing [‘Mirrorball’] at the top of that show, it was quite remarkable. It made us all sit up straight.”

“I can’t lie, I think sometimes when we’re playing the old [songs], I do feel myself taking a moment to have a deep breath before we set off into those.”

Tranquility Base toyed with the idea of rock operas, sci-fi, and meta-contextual strokes of detachment. It was a colloquial achievement, as Turner coiled his way around a gilded thesaurus. The record was sleazy, futuristic, and absurdist—a far departure from the bluesy, dive-bar world of AM, where Turner and the band lampooned fantasy in the name of Elvis aesthetics and retro fuzz tones. The song suite of Tranquility Base was where Turner could fully embrace being a disciple of David Foster Wallace’s “strange objectless unease.” At the heart of every song were momentary lines that harbored great, prismatic proclamations of love, paranoia, and sorrow, each enveloped by these mountainous, incomparable fits of language that made you feel immense, discernible memories within yourself.

But The Car is most often quietly beautiful, with a sparse melancholy only Turner can translate into such formidable art. Even when Turner’s prose meditates on jet skis shot in CinemaScope, or a Lego movie about Napoleon written in “noble gas-filled glass tubes,” there’s a new kind of lonesomeness in his delivery. It’s as if everyone’s holding festivities he wasn’t invited to. Four years ago, he was at a moon resort, dissociating with his own qualms about the American Golden Age permeating 238,000 miles away. Now, back on Earth, he’s wrestling with the fleeting affectations existing just beyond his grasp.

“The whole record is a long goodbye, in some way, shape, or form.”

In 2019, as he began working on The Car, Turner was reading a lot of Raymond Chandler books and stepping into the mind of the author’s most famous character, the private eye Philip Marlowe. Turner’s interest in Chandler’s The Long Goodbye and how, as he puts it, the “whole record is a long goodbye, in some way, shape, or form,” isn’t a signal that the band’s end is near. Instead, the “goodbye” that awaits us at the end of “Perfect Sense” is Turner’s idea of letting go of the yesterdays he eulogized in “Mirrorball.” In reality, there’s a sense of hope lingering for Turner and the band. The shows they’re playing now feel different than they did four years ago. After 20 years together, Arctic Monkeys are shifting their focus on where the songs will take them next. “There’s something untapped, in the distance, that we’re moving toward,” Turner adds.

The way Arctic Monkeys presented themselves in 2013 during the rollout cycle for AM was perpendicular to the landscape of social media at the time. While people were starting to cultivate intimacy online, sharing floral graphics with “Let me be your coffee pot” pasted over top of them on Tumblr, or discovering hordes of like-minded fans within private Facebook groups, Turner and company were dousing themselves in a rugged, sensual retroness signifying some utopian, otherworldly freedom from long ago.

But now, as audiences have grown older and matured alongside the band, something has changed. Turner is writing songs with a sense of detachment, romance, and wonder that’s widely understood and felt, which is what makes The Car such an important record in the band’s history. He’s feeling a bit morose and trying to navigate his way through it with poetic meanderings that conjure vivid imagery many of us haven’t seen in a long time. It’s not all cuddles in the kitchen and puppets on strings anymore, but a chapter of popped travel-sized champagnes and stackable party guests that’s quickly winding down. And surely there’s a mirrorball awaiting all of us when we reach our destination. All we need to get there is a car, a shave, and a bit of sleep.

#interview #arctic monkeys #alex turner #the car era #flood magazine 2022 #saving the full text here #love love the part where him talked about how the whole record was a long goodbye

[dinbuckyenthusiasts]

Travelling with Din Djarin HCs

It’s almost like you’re always travelling with him because of how much you move around (bounties, work, you know the drill)

But for you two, and the kid as well, ‘travelling’ is much different than just going around for work’s sake

As much as he loves his job, Din finds little to no enjoyment visiting different planets just for his work, especially since the planets are generally pretty dangerous and there’s not much for you and Grogu to do, meaning you guys usually just stay on the ship until Din gets back

He certainly doesn’t view it as travelling, because he’d much rather do it all with you and to him, to travel is to actually enjoy your experience, rather than to have a one track mind and set goal: get the bounty

You and Din wouldn’t really plan it beforehand, he do it himself and surprise you. He would negotiate with Karga to take time off work for a while even if it meant he would have to take on extra bounties afterwards or beforehand

If you ask, he tells you you’re going to Tatooine or some planet that never is really that exciting, and then when you arrive he would lower the ramp and show you

And if this man thought he couldn’t fall for you any further

He was wrong

Because the way he SWOONS at the sight of your face lighting up...he's head over heels

He would let you pack some bags and whatever else you need for a couple days (you would probably stay for like…4-7 days? It really depends on Din's schedule but I'm sure you could convince him to change the plans a bit if you wanted)

And then you would be off. None of you want to waste time

While travelling, Din would want to take it all the way since you guys don't get to vacation often. He would probably include a hotel (or just plain camping depending on the planet and how many credits you guys have). You wouldn’t be spending much time in the Crest, probably none at all honestly

Din doesn't really have a preference for either hot or cold planets. For him, as long as the climate isn’t extreme (like Tatooine or Hoth for example) he would be satisfied. He would probably enjoy Naboo, maybe even Sorgan or Endor. He definitely likes anywhere with lots of greenery, it’s a peaceful break from the general harshness of the planets and life he’s used to

I was also considering Coruscant but that might be stretching it, just because of how busy it can be, even if it is a gorgeous planet. Something isolated and quiet would be best for him. Privacy is something he needs in order to actually wind down so he doesn’t have to worry about the safety of you and the kid (although, when is he not worried about that?)

He prefers quiet planets not only because of safety, but if he's started taking the helmet off around you, he would most likely want to remove it at times during the trip as well

Another reason he wants to go somewhere green is because he knows Grogu will enjoy it. And if there’s a lot of water there, like lakes or rivers? That’s even better (frogs of course). That’s sort of why I feel like Naboo or Sorgan would be perfect

But Grogu making friends with the Ewoks on Endor would be so adorable as well...anyway

While there, I think it would just be a whole lot of exploring. He would leave it to you to decide where you want to go and what you want to see

Din is more than fine with whatever you decide but I also think that at some point during your trip, he would want to go see the architecture and nature of the planet. He finds culture in architecture and he absolutely adores seeing the uniqueness of it all, especially since every planet is so different

I know this is a bit basic, but the three of you would go on walks. Just sort of wander with no real destination and see where it leads you. That's probably how you guys discover most of the planet, rather than using a map or guide

I can also imagine having a picnic with him and the kid. The whole Anakin and Padmé scene in AOTC? That exact scenery

Even if he doesn't really eat because...well...the helmet situation, you would still enjoy each other's company and just chat. He would be happy enough to just know you're enjoying yourself. The smile on your face makes him happier than any meal could

The different food (if there is different food depending on the planet...I'm honestly not sure) would be so fun to try out

And if there were any festivals (I'm assuming most planets have different traditions) during the time you visit, there would be no hesitation in attending them. Once again with the whole culture thought, Din would LOVE stuff like that

Finally, although Din really would want to experience as much as possible, his main goal wouldn't be that. It would be that you leave feeling better and much more refreshed than when you arrived

And after your visit, he would realize how nice it actually was. He might even find himself craving that same domesticity and relaxation at the oddest times

He knows how good it was for you and the kid. If you asked, he wouldn't even hesitate going to Karga and asking him for more time off work. If you wanted to go back to whatever planet you went to, he would take you there. However, he'd be open to new suggestions as well (as long as it's safe) and would go wherever you wanted

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin headcanon #din and grogu #star wars #star wars headcanons #headcanon #baby yoda #grogu #traveling #vacation #the mandalorian #the mandalorian headcanon #mando #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fanfiction #fanfic #mando and grogu #the mandalorian spoilers #lucasfilm #this is much longer than i planned #sorry not sorry

[spidercrusadersworld]

I guess we have plot line now, WHO ELSE IS READY FOR MORE

summary: Maya moves in with the Parker's, but feels like leaving the bus, would be leaving Jade. trauma resurfaces, and tears are cried.

tagging @i-put-the-wit-in-dimwit

After a week of being with the Parker's, I know that I want to stay, but I'm not sure if i'm ready to leave. for the past week I've been sleeping in the spare bedroom. It's walls are a pale shade of blue and the bed is made with plain, flat colors. the mixture of grays, and off-whites made to please every guest that will enter. it's far from the cluttered, colorful bus that I had called home for all those years.

The question of "are you okay?" derails my train of thought. The unexpected noise makes me jump. I look over at the open doorway and Peter is there looking concerned.

"Sorry!" He says quickly "I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that!".

"oh it's totally fine!" I ensure him "I'm just not used to having other people around, that's all!" I tell him. the last thing I want to do is to be a bother to anyone. not after they'd been so kind to me.

"Well that explains the aimless wondering and inaudible muttering." he says. "I walked past and in the corner of my eyes I saw you staring at the wall!".

I realize that I am indeed in the middle of the room aimlessly pacing around.

"So, are you okay? Is the room not working out for you?".

"NO!" I blurt out a little louder than I should have. "I mean no!" I repeat myself more calmly "The room is great! It's just, different from what I'm used to back... well I guess not back home. this technically is home now, but..." I feel like I'm talking to much, why am I complaining? God I'm so ungrateful-

"You're not being Ungrateful kid!" Peter blurts out. "Hell last night when I said good night you responded with 'I'm sorry'!".

"Oh." I respond nervously. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did" peter says chuckling. "So what I'm getting from this is you like more of a hotel guest than a household member, am I correct?"

I nod quietly.

"So why don't you go bring your stuff here? I'm sure that would make it feel more homey!" He says cheerfully.

Then it all clicks.

"That's it!" I say ,"that"s exactly it!" For a second I feel myself about to run up and hug him, but I stop myself, and desperately pray he didn't notice.

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

After collecting boxes, bins, and other helpful tools. I step through the portal and take in the familiar sent of the forest. The sage bushes, the royal blue pine needles, the cozy smell of the mist. I didn't realize how much I missed it until now. The city smells of cigarettes and street food and whatever else the citizens of New York bring around the city, so to be back here calms my soul.

Suddenly I realize why I have trouble sleeping too. A calm, isolated forest and the busy streets of New York are definitely two drastically different environments. And, well, blasting car horns are not what I would exactly call relaxing or soothing noises to drift asleep to.

I put all the clutter in boxes, and fold up the bedding, that I haven't used in months.

one of the last things I pack up are my clothes. the fashion in Peters universe, is, well different. for one, it's weird for men to wear dresses there. In my universe, Earth #1252008 It's normal for tailors to regularly make custom tailored dress for anyone. I look at the dresses in my very spacious, but hidden, out of the way closet. I haven't worn any of them since she... since the accident.

I haven't had the need to, plus, they probably don't fit anymore. after I got bit, i got a huge growth spurt and got a much more muscular build. i couldn't wear half of my wardrobe. next to my old dresses is my suit, I haven't worn it since I proposed, here in these same woods.

I look out the window, that shows her... memorial. I realize now how strange it'll be not seeing it first thing every morning. sometimes, when I wake up and open my eyes for the first time that day, for a split second, I can see her standing by mine. and then before you can blink, shes gone.

"She's gone". I say to myself, "stay focused".

something forces me to leave the formal wear here. I take whatever is left in the closet and close it firmly. To distract myself I take the decor off the walls. the last things I want to take. their mostly from shows I would force jade to watch with me. She-ra, The Owl house, and hours worth of movies with convoluted, over extended universes. after they are all taken down, I look at the empty walls, and the bare bus.

it feels wrong.

why does It feel wrong?

then a thought hits me. What If I forget all of this? what happens when our home becomes nothing but an empty abandoned bus?

What if I, by doing this, I lose her all over again. what we did. what I couldn't protect.

I look around the bus and I realize, that there's still most of the things inside. all of which are covered in thick layers of dust.

their Jades.

as I look at all her things, the memories attached to them come flooding back to me. the things that made her laugh, cry, happy, mad.

It's to much.

my breath gets hitched in my throat, tears come cascading down without warning. I run out of the bus away from the memories. she was here. she laughed here. she loved here. she cried here. those things meant something to her. and they still wait to mean something again. I back away from the bus until I bump into something behind me.

I turn around to see her name etched into a stone.

If I do this, does that mean that I leave her again, I leave behind the husk of our life, collecting dust on a shelf?

I look at the pictures on her grave. we look so young and happy. she deserved to see another day, to survive, to live.

But she didn't.

I did.

but I never lived after that, I survived.

is this my chance to live again?

I look up from her name, and i see her, in the bus.

she nods to me.

and I live.

#god I was just writting shit down with no plan. #I think it came out good? #Maybe????? #spider man #spider sona #spiderverse fanart #spider man oc #spiderman into the verse #into the spider verse #spidersona #across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse

[hydrxnessa]

YOUR DOORS CONTENT BRINGS ME SUCH OVERWHELMING JOY ,,,,,,,,,,,

plsplspls tell me abt Halt . begging on my hands and knees TELL ME YOUR HCS PLEASE PLELELEPSPELWPLALDLSOPlsls

AAHHH THANKYOUU ;; <33 MEANS A LOT TO MEE !!! im so glad ppl are enjoying my funky doors phase sketches ^^

halt hcs? bouta whip some up in a whim (i've been mainly focussing on designs rather than their actual personalities lol, the hcs i've said before are probably subject to change)

(also i am Not used to writing headcanons, i'm usually on the receiving end of them so writing them is gonna be a wild ride for me x'p bear with me here)

halt's hallway is its own domain to control! similar to a dreamscape, halt can control the appearance of its hallway, giving it the ability to REALLY mess with people's heads. it hasn't discovered the scopes of what it is capable of, but distorting the sound and giving its victims vertigo is seemingly enough.

halt can only do this in its own hallway! the only 'dizzying powers' it has outside of its room is its ability to give the flight/freeze response to whoever it touches (making people immediately panic and flee from the area/freeze). sadly it can't control it and sometimes unwillingly gives it to someone just wanting a hug :[

despite its jokester nature, halt is actually a polite and well-mannered fella! will not hesitate to drop whatever its doing (unless its pranking someone) to help with whatever you need!

halt likes to lurk in the shadows of the hotel. most entities probably got used to seeing halt's blue eyes in the dark corners and would go like 'haha. funny, halt. you got me.' . halt took advantage of this and placed two little blue lightbulbs that look like its eyes in random corners. let's just say halt won many staring contests this way

yknow that cinematic trope where a character appears to be moving to the side of the screen (towards off-screen) and a second character is looking at them as they move, only for the first character to somehow appear right behind them? halt does that. a lot.

as for relationships with other entities - halt isn't very close to many. probably closest with guiding light since it's not affected by its 'fleeting' touch. that doesn't mean entities don't like halt!! they just try to keep their distance from it, and they find halt to be a nice entity anyway :]

when ambush chases its own tail, halt joins alongside it. then rush joins. then its a three-man tail-chase fest (if .. you count halt's lower half as a tail)

i may think of more later but that's what i have rn !! halt is a funky fella w its joking yet polite nature but sad isolation from contact w others :[ poor guy

#roblox doors #doors halt #doors senVerse #senVerse ask #sharp teef talks

[glynmostyn]

Luke finds himself in Dwayne’s church. It’s very late at night, the few other worshipers that congregate in his hotel are long gone. There’s nothing but him and the blue flame eternally lit at the god’s altar.

He’d only known the god a short while, relatively speaking. Dwayne had been in his ‘orbit’ for a while, though meaningful contact hadn’t  been made until roughly that passed February if memory served, and it honestly probably didn’t. Their trip to Wales had been just that passed April.

So much had changed since then for the Luke. As he walked up the aisle to the altar he could remember his trepidation starting out. He was simply a mortal, though now much longer lived than expected and more powerful than he was previously, though not at the moment. Dwayne was a god. Were they ever truly compatible? Were they simply kidding themselves?

As much fun as the pair had been having recently with the admission of their relationship status Luke was no fool. He’d seen this stage before in his youth. The was the time when nothing and no one existed outside of a new relationship. As stalwart a friend as he’d been to his friends growing up he was always abandoned. Who needed a loyal friend when you had a lover? A girl you liked that might let you touch her pussy when you were 15?

He knew all too well what it looked like, what it felt like to be isolated from his friends because he couldn’t give them the kind of relationship they wanted. Young boys with thoughts of sirens and mermaids, and more realistically awkward girls that didn’t think they’d get any other chance at love.

Luke couldn’t find himself in any of them. He’d heard the music. It touched him far deeper than any movie or book had. Love was pining, it was pain, and though it hurt you were happy for it’s presence in your life. It wasn’t all bad. Like a rose, there was beauty in it and pain, and the pain was worth the beauty. It was also fleeting. Never meant to be permanent. Whatever qualities it represented physically were meant to be carried out metaphysically, in spirit.

The noknete approached the altar of blue flame with a bouquet of flowers he’d gathered himself, doing his best to only take what was natural to LA.

Luke was in his human form, dressed in his new clothes. Unsullied. He looked down and searched for something on his phone.

“This feels so different to me from your altar back home.” Luke began as he lit the incense in the blue flame and laid the flowers across the altar. “I miss it. It felt more personal.” He laid the flowers across the altar. “But I’m going to do my best here. I know I sleep with you every night and have since we conceived, but...” He struggled for a moment. “...with as much as we’ve talked about in person, face to face, man thing and god, there’s plenty that I need to say here at your altar.”

He took a moment before pulling his phone out and setting it on the table. ”In addition to these flowers, I offer up this song to you, Wolf of Twilight.”

Luke took his phone and set it on the altar. He had brought a guitar with him he had been learning to play in secret as a surprise. He pressed play to get the appropriate accompaniment before he began to play and sing, grateful that no one was there to witness, except for Dwayne. Even then maybe the god wouldn’t notice; it was late and he was supposed to be in bed after all...

Softly now, close your eyes And breathe with me for one final time Signs of life and the love that we shared In a fleeting moment of happiness

Countless nights I have spent So lost in you, hung on every word Sleep then comes and carries you away And I’m left in the melancholy silence

Kiss me slowly and hold me close Think of me as your life unfolds Cherish the memories and savour the joy That we felt as we danced through the stars

Look at me with a smile in your eyes No more tears no fears of goodbye Thankful now for the time that we spent Dancing our way through the stars

So kiss me slowly and hold me close Think of me as your life unfolds Cherish the memories and savour the joy That we felt as we danced through the stars

Sharing the Moon we look to the sky Searching for truth and a reason why Solace and calm are the places we seek Only in you could my soul be free

Tears fell freely from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he sang along, almost unable to sing the last line. No matter how his love for the god felt right now, in this moment, he knew it was tragic and beautiful. Whatever they had now was to be cherished for the miracle it was. His heart was full of love he’d never experienced before and would fight to keep, but at the same time he knew not everything could last, including love.

It was best to acknowledge the inherent tragedy of love.

He would die one day, and Dwayne would continue to live on. She’d find new loves. The god might not forget him, he might be a permanent fixture of his past that haunts him for the rest of his days the same as any lover, but Luke ever the hopeless romantic could see nothing wrong with that.

He would stand there and play his guitar and sing and cry. When he was finished he would walk before the altar and pray. Sure, Dwayne was a god he was going to sleep with that night, but the deep emotions he felt could not be contained to such profane disclosure as bedtime talk. No...he needed to speak to a god, in the language of gods and worshipers. He needed to speak to God Dwayne, the god of love and all that entailed. He needed to give this aspect care and attention, recognition.

Luke wiped his tears and placed them in a small bowl at the altar before standing. “Once I’m back home with my personal altar I’ll have something a lot more fun than this for you.” Luke began with an emotional sniff. “I love you Dwayne. As my god, as my lover. You’ve brought me so much happiness and joy. Experiences I never thought possible for me...”

He laid one final daisy on the altar. “I will never forget you, or what you mean to me.  As long as I’m able I’ll be by your side.”  Luke brushed his hand along the altar before turning and walking out of the presumably empty church.

#prose #//it's almost 5am and I got back home drunk to write this so forgive me if it's weird hg;dgf #//no editing we die like men on first draft

[uroborosymphony]

❝  a woman with a dress is a frightening and powerful thing.  ❞ - from Sarang? :3 HYELLO~

Natasha, pierre, & the great comet of 1812 lyrics starters.

The flutes of champagne were clicking one against another, under the dimmed lights of a sultry and golden atmosphere. The drums, trumpets and piano of classics of jazz, accompanying a duet of singers in the heart of the celebration. Calista's eyes were set on the room - cold, focused, dark eyes preying on each one of the souls gathered under the lights - in this warmth of elegant laughters and money basked exchanges between members of the high society. It was seven days ago that the lamia received the invite, an event among the humans clearly was not her favorite way to pass her eternal time, as the loner creature could only stand few minutes a week of interaction with the mortals. The inauguration of a a luxury hotel in the heart of the capital, one selective and highly covoted place owned by the famous duo of young entrepreneurs, the Lee brothers. Not that Calista ever cared of the achievement of such an empty and shallow species.

it could not get more boring. However, tied to the invite was joined a letter, one warning her that tonight, the presence of ancient magic has been expected, perhaps, witches. It wasn't rare for the night queen to receive such messages from intels, former soldiers who have survived the great war against the order and remained loyal to her in the shadows - however it has been oh many decades since she hasn't paid attention, nor answered, due to her giving up on her quests and journeys and eventually, isolating herself.

❝  a woman with a dress is a frightening and powerful thing.  ❞

The words got spoken from her side. That voice.

Calista was wearing a long dress, black, tight around her frame, the type of dress cascaling down her hips, her legs; suggestive of the harmony and elegance of her curves. Exposed shoulders where her blonde, almost turned white with the centuries, hair was adorning her thin collarbones. And her lips, nude, which was enhancing the purity of her skin and the natural of her beauty. The usual coldness and harshness of her intimidating features instantly vanished, she couldn't hold it : that smile. That timid Calista smile - timid because she knew she was not the type to smile so spontaneously. One that she tried to hold down by pinching her bottom lip with her fang, her eyes then unable to leave the sight of the other woman.

"I do know it is. I'm looking at you."

The lamia answered, still trying to control her expression even though she could not. Calista's eyes lingered on Sarang - the dark of her hair, the jewels around her neck, her frame in a dress, far from the armors of the past. Sarang was astonishingly beautiful as ever. The sight was eternal. Calista finally understood, there was no "ancient magic" nor witch in the area, the intel was no intel but Sarang's little trick, Sarang's way of bringing Calista out of her cave so they could meet again. The archer has done it before, it always came in an original way that was making Calista smile, an under the radar way - far from the eyes of the Order - or whatever was left of it. Calista knew how Sarang was involving in this world of humans of wealth, to con and whatnot : that was probably how she got two invites. The last time they saw each other was thirty years ago, by the end of the eighties where they did spend days together, weeks even, in the south of the country, in a city way smaller than this one. A year for the immortals equaled a minute, after all.

"Oh Sarang, Sarang, you tricked me."

There was no existence Calista was truly enjoying, not even her own - Sarang's however, felt different. The memories of them tearing each other up to shattered limbs and blood bathes were nothing but cherished.

"To think I've spent the past seven days dreading the very moment I would be stuck in between four walls with these digusting little humans, you have tortured me, Huntress." It is still a teasing tone as she was exaggerating the torment, a smile still adorning her nude lips. "If only you have signed that letter, I would have hurried to come and meet you." A few steps, for her to then stand right in front of Sarang. "I cannot endure another minute in their presence. But I would love more of yours. I have seen gardens in the outside," Calista spoke, making a step towards Sarang, closing the distance between them. "Let's get out of this room. How about that?"

#셋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀 / the immortal. #셋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀 / interactions.

[ink-fireplace-coffee]

A jail inside a jail and other crappy metaphors

A/N: I've been isolating since Tuesday. I'm sad and it was raining yesterday. I'm also bored to death and fed up with my parents wanting to make me think that I am in a hotel with room service. have some words

---

How pathetic it is that I need to get it out of my system just like this. That I’m typing it in english and not spanish because thinking about it in my mother tongue makes it much more real, more personal, more raw. That I’m mistyping words, a lot of words, because i refuse to leave the safety of this laptop, of this bed to go turn on the only light in the room.

I’ve refused to leave the bed I’ve been sleeping in for the past three days for everything that’s not eating. And, for the sake of not making this an eternal allegory to whatever else toxicity I have inside me and that is in some way corrupting my insides and turning to black whatever I have inside, giving me a figurative stomach ache; I won’t dwell on describing or even thinking of whose bed I’m sleeping on, on whose room I’ve been staying for the past three days, on whose wedding picture would be starting right back at me if I lifted up my head from the laptop and looked to the front.

The bed covers up almost all the area of the room, so it isn’t like I’m willingly staying on it permanently, it is not a symbol of whatever I’m feeling and I’m not representing a state of exhaustion, or the deep desire of going to sleep as a way of saying a momentarily goodbye to all my burdens and problems for a couple of hours. I’m staying in this bed, simply, because it’s almost all I can do, aside, that is, from choosing to sit down in one of the chairs that face the window. Not that the chair gives me a lot of good memories either, but watching tv from there is rather uncomfortable than the bed. I guess it makes sense, for a bedroom to be a place where the bed is the star of the furniture, you know? And, still, the island of dotted sheets and flowered pillows only serves as a jail inside of a jail that is the room I’m isolating myself in.

A jail with all the comfort, yes, because I’m not locked inside my mom’s house sleeping on the floor with only water and bread as meals and little to no hygiene. But I guess that a golden cage is still a cage. And how overdramatic of me to compare my isolation to being in prison (and how typical of me to roll my eyes when rereading the paragraph too. The meanest critic is oneself, at the end), but Francis Forever has been on repeat since I started typing this up and the furthest I’ve gone since Tuesday morning has been to the bathroom, which is five steps down the hall, not really that much of an adventure; so I guess I can excuse myself by saying that dramatism and flourishing really comes out of me whenever I’m bored to death.

And also, this whole discourse that I’m typing up to a) do something with my time aside from scrolling down my phone and watching sitcoms and b) preventing myself from crying more (key word, that last one, everyone always fails to mention just how fast your afternoon can go if you spend half of it crying while being silent so that no one from your family can hear you and think that you are mid crisis), started with the words “how poetic”, so whose fault is it really if you didn’t consider the depths and lengths of my girl melodrama?

#my writing #writers of tumblr #spilled ink #writeblr

[montyterrible]

Witches, Gangbangers, and Crocodiles

What are we? Some kind of Suicide Squad: Extended Edition (2016)?

In some ways, David Ayer’s much-maligned Suicide Squad movie is kind of a fascinating specimen in amber preserving the flaws of Warner Bros. and DC’s approach to emulating the success of the Marvel superhero films.

I’m not a Marvel guy—or really a DC guy at this stage in my life—but I can agree with what feels like the pretty logical, commonsense argument that Marvel’s titanic success with The Avengers team-up in 2012 was facilitated by the handful of films focused on individual characters they did first. Meanwhile, DC’s equivalent Justice League movie wasn’t preceded by an appropriate amount of scaffolding, so you end up with two of the three major pillars of the team (Batman and Wonder Woman) being introduced in the same film, along with teasers working in still other faces like Cyborg and The Flash. Suicide Squad attempts the same sort of thing in miniature, with some perhaps less well-known and beloved figures who would, admittedly, probably not deserve their own entire films but who still feel kind of under-served by their treatment here.

Erratic or downright recursive is the pacing of the opening act(?) of this movie, as it feels like it’s either on fast forward or is plucking selected scenes from other standalone films from an alternate universe, particularly in the cases of Deadshot and Harley Quinn, who receive substantial backstory attention here, at the expense of the cohesion of this movie. It’s not so much that these are bad bits and pieces of characterization and narrative in isolation so much as they just feel… out of context, and worse off for it. Like, Joker’s seduction and betrayal of Harley would certainly function better emotionally in a complete film but here feels thrown out without much weight behind it. Even the extremely colorful title card kind of shows up without much aplomb, as “Task Force X” founder Amanda Waller is simply walking into a restaurant or hotel after a couple of scenes, before we go into still more introduction and exposition that stalls whatever forward momentum there was.

This first bit is messy in a way that I don’t think even a theoretical “Ayer Cut” with an even longer runtime could fix since, again, the problem is a foundational one—These are simply other entire stories that are being smudged to try to get where we need to go as fast as possible. Once the Squad is on the ground in a post-magical cataclysm Midway City, things settle down and start to cohere better and proceed more smoothly, though there is some further embarrassment to come.

A bit of context: I first watched this movie after critical and popular consensus on it had already been reached. I knew what it was like, and believed it, but I still went into it hopeful since I saw it shortly after watching Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016), which I, surprisingly, liked enough to watch twice in two days—the extended cut, at that. As a result, I thought maybe I would find Suicide Squad equally surprisingly good (to me). That, however, was not the case, and my assessment of it at the time was that it was simply “boring,” probably the most damning of states for a film. One moment that actually stuck with me was the one pictured above—Joel Kinnaman’s Rick Flag eating a chicken leg at night in a hotel room for some reason. Which I found more absurd than anything else.

On re-watch, the chicken leg is still a delightfully odd choice for a late-night snack, but I wasn’t as bored as the first time around. I wouldn’t call this movie “good” (and also don’t call Dawn of Justice that either), but it kind of works for me in certain respects.

For one thing, I found a lot of it shockingly parsable—which is to say that I didn’t think it was obscenely dark and hard to read in ways that I’ve come to associate with modern visual-effects-heavy movies of this sort. I also thought there was a degree of plausible weight and screen presence to most things, with several rare exceptions, like a particularly rough looking VFX shot we see a couple of times of the character El Diablo using his fire powers in a prison yard and (unfortunately) the major antagonist Incubus. The final battle with Incubus and Enchantress is also awkwardly low energy, weightless, and kind of choppy-feeling. It stands out in contrast to the rest of the action.

The writing is similarly a mixed bag. On the one hand, there is an absolutely atrocious bit of exposition from Flag that tries to rapid-fire explain the character Katana and her powers, and which is again emblematic of the movie trying to do too much in too little time. But then, in that same scene, where the Squad is bound for Midway, Flag calls Deadshot “a serial killer who takes credit cards,” which I think is great. Later, Captain Boomerang demands to know “[w]hy is it always a knife fight every single time [Harley] open[s] [her] mouth.” I kind of like the way this is written. It has a personality which dovetails with the distinctive visual design of certain things and is aesthetically and tonally what I might describe as “poser shopping mall… food court gangsta” or some such word salad. It’s a vibe very much of a kind with the Twenty One Pilots song “Heathens” that plays over the credits while various 3D objects like bullets and syringes fly around in psychedelic patterns in a weird void. It’s cool with a capital “c,” edgy with a capital “e.”

See also the look of Captain Boomerang—You can positively smell him through the screen, and he has both a gold tooth and a shocking blue metallic jacket with “Captain” written on it in large letters. Harley’s design might be the example of Suicide Squad’s aesthetic that has stood the test of time best, if only because of how Margot Robbie’s performance was (rightfully) identified as one of the unequivocally good things here and was salvaged and preserved in further films. Her many little tattoos, bleached hair with the red and blue tips, tight “Daddy’s Lil Monster” top, and overall grody stripper vibe is pure Suicide Squad 2016 Chic. She is often reduced to a strutting ass by the camera here, though, and an unfortunate part of the “personality” that I mentioned is a certain sexist streak. Speaking of Flag’s lover-turned-world-destroyer (Enchantress) at the climax of the film, Deadshot identifies her as Flag’s “old lady” and tells him to “Get up there, smack on her ass, tell her, ‘Knock this shit off.’” That is also Suicide Squad 2016 Chic. It’s absolutely unpleasant and not “good,” but it is so nakedly off-putting that it kind of loops back around for me now.

These sorts of movies have come to be associated with sanitized, boardroom-approved slop, and the Edginess of Suicide Squad, which can be offensive (sexist, racist) or just cringe, now feels like… Not a breath of fresh air, but like a really distinctive foul smell coming out of someone’s mouth. It’s not good, but you have to mark its existence for just how singular it is.

Jared Leto’s Joker performance is another iconic element of this movie, for good or bad. He’s the “poser shopping mall gangsta” vibe personified as well, with his notorious “damaged” forehead tattoo and his grillz behind/below dark red lips. However cringe, it is still a Take and is perfectly harmonious with the rest of the film. I kind of loved the Joker this time around, in fact. My meta knowledge of Leto’s real-world behavior combined with the already grimy writing and visuals and the at times too strained or wacky performance to make something off-putting in, I will argue, a positive way. Harley and Joker’s relationship is meant to be a negative thing for her, and you really feel that viscerally here thanks to all of the above. Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight (2008) might read as more Authentically deranged to some, but I think this Joker is just as repulsive (complimentary). Whether this version of the character could have credibly functioned in a Batman story outside of this specific movie, without the complementary stylistic elements, I’m not sure.

Is this Suicide Squad 2016 rehabilitation-ism, then? Maybe. There is part of me that looks at the titling of the 2021 film—“The Suicide Squad”—both as a blatant attempt to manipulate SEO to obscure the worse older title and as a snub: This is THE Suicide Squad, the definitive take! There’s part of me, absent any arguments I can credibly support, that wants to rally for the little guy. There’s plenty to justifiably hate about the 2016 movie, like the frequent and overly on-the-nose needle drops that aren’t exactly deep cuts, but there’s also something about Joker’s men breaching the prison to rescue Harley in the end right as we hear the words “just killed a man” in “Bohemian Rhapsody” that charmed me…

Or how the cylinder of Harley’s gun rotates to display the word “LOVE” as Deadshot fires it to destroy Enchantress’ doomsday device; or how the red and blue ink swirls around Harley and Joker quite evocatively in the chemical vat in the flashback to her transformation; or the surreally “off” dub job for Enchantress’ empowered voice where the words don’t seem to credibly come from her mouth.

“Personality” is definitely the word I would use now, in place of “boring,” even if I might still resist something as audacious as “good.”

#movies #movie review #bad movies #suicide squad #superhero movies #rewatch

[medicinemane]

My mom's in a fucking toddler throwing tantrums mood about shit

Like I don't care about whatever shit's going on in your head (especially cause this morning you force me to be therapist then snap at me for saying not the perfect thing)

Clearly I'm fucked in the head myself, you here know literally better than anyone else the state I'm always in

You can't let it get in the way though, as in you have to fucking take care of shit regardless of how you're doing

Here her down there yelling and cussing (which... not great for my mental health due to the past), well the shitty curtain rods had come down, and instead of just getting me to put them back up she's trying to do it herself

I don't care that you feel bad about getting old, fucking do the division of the labor in a way that makes sense. You literally can't do this, you're in the way by trying. You want to be useful, go through shit like I always ask you to, that helps me infinitely more than you putting up a curtain rod

Is this callous? Absolutely. Anyone else I'd have more sympathy for, but barring my grandma anyone else hasn't treated me like shit and told me no one could ever love me (not incorrect, but unacceptable to tell a kid)

You feel like shit because you missed an email about getting into an anthology? That sucks, but you can't just wallow

There's not a day that goes by when I don't feel like trash. Your parents made you feel guilty about not being able to work? Fucking shocking but they did the same to me, and I've never managed a paid job (only volunteer and clinicals stuff), but I just fucking swallow those feelings and stick to the plan

I feel like shit about not bringing in an income, but getting the place cleaned up has to come before making money, especially since any plan I tried would still be half cocked. I but my damn feelings aside and focus on what brings stability

She's a fucking bringer of chaos cause she never stops and thinks, she nearly lost her disability because she got the great idea to apply for an old job she would have had to drive 2 hours to and get a hotel that pays less then her disability does

Dipshit, you may not like it, but the disability is your job at this point. Help out around the house if you want something to do that actually adds value. I keep asking you for that one thing, and you keep wasting time on shit that doesn't pay but "might someday" because otherwise you might be a failure

Well here's the news, you are. You're a burden. You're a millstone. You treated me like shit growing up, you destroyed my ability to be close to family, you made me even more isolated than I was already inclined to be, and now I have to let you live with me... what's to be done?

Get a therapist or get your shit together on your own. Stop making it my problem. Suck it up and just ask for help. You want to do something? Get the mail so I'm not straining myself to get it when my insomnia is bad. There's shit you can do that would help, but you refuse to do it, and instead you wail and throw fits cause you can't do shit you feel inferior for not being able to do

You gave me terrible self esteem, you and your parents have made me feel like trash. What I say about here is a small fraction of what I actually think, but it doesn't matter

Nothing gets fixed unless I keep moving forward. It probably can't change me not being able to get the one thing I want, but my house is a miles better situation than anything I've had before, and there's so much more I can get and make better about my life

Fucking quite making me emotionally regulate you. You made me do that so much when I was little that... I don't know... doesn't put me in a fucking good place when I have to do it

The kitchen was clean till you fucked it up, almost all of the mess I have to go through is your shit. You put your emotional regulation on me

How about instead of worrying if you've gotten physically weak, which while I'm all for doing practical stuff like psychical therapy style exercises, the fact is you can't meaningfully change... how about instead of that you do shit that you can do and that would really make a difference?

But no, you're from your family, and the only reason I don't use that last name like an insult right now is to avoid doxxing myself. It's a trash lineage cause you and your parents are assholes

Many things wrong with me, but at least I never had a kid, treated them like trash, let my parents really really treat them like trash, and then forced them to raise me and take care of me

You want to stop being pathetic? Start there, start by just handling your shit, and then just get me to fix the curtain rod instead of doing shit that sends me back to real bad times, and then I have to fix it anyway

#mm tag so i can find things later