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opinated-user · 6 months

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i saw the new video of LO "shock has lost it's value" so you don't have to

because LO claims that other people have covered up the topic of both Postals and Hatred better than her (with a cheeky recognition that she has plagiarized so many people before, but she's self aware so you aren't allowed to bring it up i guess), so the entire video is actually going to be about the coffin of andy and leyley with a small section of the other two. it's not because she wanted to talk about the incest videogame more than anything else. of course no. she was forced to do it because she just prefers to refer to the people who did a better job than her before.

indeed, no other intentionally offensive games has ever appeared since Postal and Hatred. there has been 0 cases until the incest game. if you know anything about the indie game scene, you already know how offensively ignorant this is.

LO calls the incest game a visual novel. it's not. it's literally categorized like an RPG game because it was made on an engine for RPG games. you can literally see that on the steam page that she keeps flashing on the screen. is this a small issue? absolutely. but it bothers me all the same because LO's the one who decides to talk about this game. is really too much of a burden to just know what genre is the game you're talking about? how i'm supposed to believe you when you talk as an authority about this game?

LO still tries to treat cannibalism as a the worst taboo ever, over incest... and i honestly don't know what is even the point? i know that for LO there's really nothing wrong about incest, but are you really helping your case by trying to say "at least it isn't cannibalism, that's worse"? normal people don't do this, LO.

the jabs at the artstyle by saying "this is a conglomeration of every edgy teen girl" really bother me because at least this is a creative work. at least this the work of an artist that they made with their own hands, instead of exploiting a spouse with no paid only to receive subpar art where anatomy and colors go to die. it's also just a girl with messy hair and black clothing...? besides the messy hair, that's you, LO. you keep putting your characters in muddy dark clothing because that's what you always have. it's just unnecesary.

when LO makes a comment about how weird is that these two siblings share a bedroom in a crummy small apartment, she flashes three novels with incest themes on them: forbidden by Tabitha Suzuma, flawed by Kate Avelyn and flowers in the attic by V.C. Andrews, that we all have established before LO either didn't read at all or didn't understood at all. before finishing this video she talked about writing "the goth version of flowers in the attic". flowers in the attick is already gothic literature. goth is a music genre, not a literary one. i won't let that go because it reminds me how deeply and proudly ignorant this woman is, and still has the gall to pat herself in the back for it.

all the "alabama" jokes are so tiring and boring. even more boring because LO is canadian and therefore completely disconnected from the culture that made those jokes, so you know the only reason she's making them at all is because she saw americans doing it.

a little rant about how you can't diagnose a character or youtubers with mental health disorders because people have been sued with defamations suits over it. i agree that you can't diagnose real people, that is unethical. however leyley is a fictional character. we can talk about how kids can't be diagnosed with personality disorder or how she doesn't really fit the criteria for this or that mental illness, but it's not and will never be the same to try to diagnose her as to do it to a real human being.

there's a part where LO says that the story of the incest game doesn't face her by showing a panel of pokemadhouse where... i assume Lizzy? is yelling insults to CLO through the phone while CMO asks "who's talking to you like that? that isn't your ex, is it?" and because it's just that one panel, i imagine that it is. so the implication would be that LO doesn't care about the cannibalism or the implications of incesy (shocking, right?), but the moment in which the siblings are mean to each other and insult one another, that's when she can't take it because she had ex that yelled insults to her.... i guess. idk.

"kill your abusers, Andrew, it's good for you." unless they have children just at the right age as your sibling when you first started molesting them all those years ago. then forgive your abusers, Andrew. silence their victims too, just so you have a chance at a new incestuous love.

reference to the folgers incest add. not even chuckled.

these are the reason why someone would want to kill leyley

replace brother with younger sibling and you got it, some classic LO projection. but you're still entirely wrong on one thing, LO. nobody wants to kill you and you know that too. just admit that you're a incestuous abuser that needs high, minor, medium large and extensive actual real therapy.

13. LO remarking on how weird the game treating the two siblings arguing as "lovers spat" is so weird because she's the one who treated Courtney calling her out as a bitter ex. even down to keep talking bad about the ex of Courtney that he had when abandoning their parent's house, calling him an "actual pedophile" despite their age gap being just two years.

14. so she knows how weird it is to keep talking about her sibling in sexual context. she knows how bad it is to make jokes about Courtney being raped. she knows how obssesive and toxic she has been since Courtney spoke out... and she still does it. proudly. i know i'm saying nothing new here, but LO is a really bad person. not because she does bad things without knowing, but because she does them knowing.

15. LO is relating the story of the game completely skipping the part in which you can have the siblings... not commit any incest at all. yes, the weird implication were there from the start, but weird implications aren't actual incest regardless of how uncomfortable they can make individual people. you have to actually go out of your way to reach that path. she's presenting it as if this was a clear linear story path and it's not, and i have a suspicion that is the point of the game that LO is completely missing. that these two are horrible toxic characters, but ultimately they still have a choice on how their relationship can become and you as a player can get them there or not. because one thing she didn't mention either is that this story is devided in chapters and there's still others coming, so this is an incomplete story. i'm not the dev or anything like that, but if i have to guess anything about the plot my idea is that this whole story can only end in tragedy and probably neither of the siblings will survive. it's your choice as a player if that end includes actually touching your sibling or not. i guess we all know which ending LO would prefer. but it still bothers me because there's a reason why the dev made it a choice at all instead of just a inevitable part of the story. there's a reason why you can skip that and i won't claim to know what is that reason, but ignore that just so you can posture is still so gross for me.

16. "the artstyle of a potterhead that watched Black Butler"????????????? what does this even mean???? plus. LO, do you really want to play that game? do you really want to keep bashing people with anime inspired artstyles when pokemadhouse is literally just that + your own terrible ideas of what "correct proportions" is supposed to be? do you think i haven't noticed that it has been a while since you displayed your avatar in any of your videos? the one that was made for free by your wife and everyone called out as being clearly anime inspired? were you tired of being calling you out the obvious hypocrisy everytime you made those "jokes" or did you get tired of pretend like you liked it in the first place?

17. "i have seen more shocking content". i know. you were the one who brought rape lay and a game about touching the bodies of underaged characters in your video about SVTFOE. i didn't even know about the last one until i reverse searched the image you put out. and yet, you still couldn't think of bringing any other example of "shocking content" to clickbait people with on the thumbnail that two games that people stopped talking about years ago. more than that... what do you think you're doing insisting "this doesn't shock me" with this game? has it ever occured to you that it's main goal is not to shock you? has that ever being declared as being the main goal on any of this? did it never occured to you that the author has a story to tell? even while giving your summary of the whole game to pad the run time and trick people into thinking you have anything to say (seriously, the summary alone is almost half of this video lol). this is exactly like when you insisted that Disney was to blame for creating "romantic chemistry" between Anna and Elsa, but then had the audacity to say that the fandom was the one who was gross while the movie itself was "lovely" (even though you believed it to have "accidental" incest so... you were the one saying a story about incestuous sister was lovely. what a surprise.) the thing is, it's not making you look tough, clever or even "knowledgeable" to say "see this narrative about toxic siblings who cannabilize people doesn't shock". the knowledgeable is already shot with how very little do you know the indie game scene, or the gaming community in general, that you can only think of three games in decades who have shocking content. insisting that this story only looks to shock people and you weren't shocked doesn't say anything about the story itself. it just tells me how boring you're that you believe it makes you interesting you saw more "shocking" content before. 18. "by the way my askbox was filled about this game i expected more." oh. you're not going to say why people started to bring out to you the game that became infamous because of the incest? you're not going to even try to mention how or why incest media just coincidentally, totally against your will, keeps appearing around you? i guess we're also going to ignore how those "hundreds" of ask were... three or four asks that all write and type exactly the same as you. one of them coming from one of your own know sockpuppet accounts. 19. "this game promotes itself as one thing and turns out that is about another." sounds similar to promoting a webcoming as a "slice of lice about a pokemon trainer living in her home with wacky characters", but then you just had to add child molestation with mind altering consequences, quasi incest and rampant abuse apologia of actual immoral monsters. at least the incest game is honest about it being horror. it doesn't try to sell itself as a "wholesome" story about anything, like someone i know.

20. now that i think about it, she only complains about the artstyle when she has Ashley on inscreen. she doesn't say anything about Andrew despite being the same artstyle? she keeps making jabs at how ashley is "not like other girls", about how she thinks she's "quirky" and it's just weird to me that she only does that for her, but nobody else in the game. 21. LO does really goes into a very long diatribe about the kind of mindset that Ashley has, about how the puzzles are actually great, about how it explores the psychology of these characters... and still keeps insisting that there's nothing else about the game. the math isn't mathing. does it have any depth or it doesn't? also that constant "why the rest of the game couldn't be like this".... because the puzzles wouldn't have any meaning at all without the story? isn't that an obvious enough response? 22. "the easiest path to get past incestuous attractiong is being willing to do so." oh. and i guess you're the expert on that one, LO. do you actually not understand how alarming those phrases come off? nobody normal talks like this, LO, i'm sorry i have to be the one to tell you. nobody talks like having incestuous attraction is just as common as having general trauma. not even Courtney does that and you're the one who claims that he's obsessed with you! pity you clearly still haven't moved past that or you'd stop publishing rape jokes about your sister. 23. "this is a game about two awful people and we see them get worse." yes. that is a compelling narrative for people. if nothing else, for the watching a trainwreck effect. some people want to see the world burn in a safe environment where nobody actually gets hurt, as in fiction. it might not be interesting for you (who has more an issue about them being mean and snapping to each other than to them being incestuous mutually, btw), but that is something people find interesting. sometimes people like different things and you don't liking them doesn't mean anything about the quality of the thing. kids in fifth grade understand this already. 24. LO said that Ashley is made of a bunch of anime tropes and Pearl is actually the better version of those tropes. i'm just going to leave that out there and the world can decide what to do with it.

25. "i missed this part of the footage and i had to stole it, i'm not playing that again". wait, who did you steal it from? did you asked permission at least? i don't see any credit or anything. if you use gameplay footage from someone else, yes, it's the bare minimum type of courtesy ask for permission and then credit them. this is the same thing when you use fanart of people who didn't made for you. that's still the work of someone else. LO just flat out admitted that she stole footage from someone else.

26. LO boldly claim that the writing of the game is wrong because Ashley is the main character and she doesn't have a lot of deph... while at the same time saying that Andrew (the one who... also appears in the title of the game?) has. LO still doesn't understand the concept of co-protagonist, does she?

27. then it follows a long diatribe about a movie about some guy and a girl who go in a rampage because American Idol. i didn't pick up the name but... good on LO for finally referencing something else that isn't SU or Star Wars.

still too long and she just gets lost on her sauce so much that i don't even know what is her point anymore. 28. just about in general... it's rich how LO says that Ashley being a violent person or the man on that movie being violent makes them pathetic and boring, when she was the one who claimed she kicked a online stalker in front of her building and stabbed some MAGA guy in the streets. not to mention the woman who adviced to children that they should bash the heads of their bullies with the heaviest object they can find. i don't even disagree that people who take pride in being unhinged violent dangerous peoeple are not that interesting as they thing themselves to be. but LO's very much one of those people. that's why she keeps writing her "obviously heroic" OC starwars killing people left and right without facing any consequences.

29. "amab siblings being abused by afab sibling is not a story that is often taken seriously, and believe me i know that from personal experience." said the woman who bragged for years about beating the shit out of her younger sibling and leaving them crying on the floor after punching them in the gut 15 times. again, your only real concrete examples of Courtney "abusing you" is: burned your pokemon cards when kids and didn't want to play with you. that's what you publicly and openly have claimed as examples of Courtney being abusive to you. you yourself haven't really bothered to explain anymore of this "abuse". can you really blame people when they doubt that claim? especially when you have been cuaght in so many other lies before? no, LO, the reason people believe Courtney over you is not because you're amab and he's afab. it's because you have done nothing else but give out red flags since you first became online and keep giving out more everytime you even talk about Courtney. Courtney's story fits you like a glove. yours look like trying to put a glove into a foot.

(just like your story of claiming to have survived cancer last year, btw) 30. "the people who like this game think they're on the outside, but there's nothing more inside than someone selling what you like in retail"... is LO actually comparing an indie game, made in RPG maker, by a solo person, with mainstream gaming? if she is, that is an insult to the intelligence of everyone who had to hear it and i feel like i lost braincells for it. it's so utterly and obviously wrong that i'm actually speechless. this is like comparing Ib, another RPG maker games that people adored and has a cult classic, with Final Fantasy or even Mario. the indie scene is miles different than the mainstream gaming scene. i can't believe this is something i have even to say.

31. "it has never been an easier time to become a publisher author or an indie developer for that matter." indeed. because there's an indie scene for it. because people can selfpublish. and neither of those people has the same mass appeal, power or influence as mainstream media that is back up by an actual company. LO acts as if the fact people can make money out of their creations that puts them on the same level as professionals who're hired to do those jobs. no, LO. when you were creating those boring RPG games in which you gave people NSFW works of ponies as a reward for breaking the minds of character, you weren't a dev on the same value as the guy who made the games you liked. you were just a boring adult with a porn addiction and some minor knowledge of coding. nothing else. 32. "the only way to make a dark story effective is when you make it in earnest, when you have the characters happy to do it but you know it's the worst thing to them" wait. wait. wait. is this LO saying that the only issue that she has with the incest game... is that it's not more open and gleeful about the incest? i think that's what she's saying. i actually don't know what other conclusion i'm supposed to take from it. when she talks about the game showing the post incest scene, she goes "finally! we can stop dancing around this like we did the last four hours." so the issue is not the incest, it's that the people involved aren't joyful and happy about it. it's that the incest isn't more cover and came sooner.

like in Frozen. my earlier point was right then. her only real issue is that the siblings are mean to each other, not that they could fuck each other. i guess i'm not really surprised out of the woman who called the incestuous relationships "the purest form of love that there can be." this is exactly what i mean when i say that Courtney's story fits you. because only someone who only views incest as positive would say something like that and let that be their conclusion about the incest game. 33. this is a personal nitpick, but i especially do not like how LO insist that you can't make horror out of a tragedy. just say that you never read horror or even understand what horror is. almost the entire filmography of Mike Flanagan is horror that is about familial tragedy at it's core: the tragedy of losing family, the tragedy of chosing power over love, the tragedy of trauma, the tragedy of religion, etc, etc. tragedy is at the core of many beautiful works of horror. hereditary is about a cult interferring with a family, but also it's about grief, generational trauma and the tragedy of these character being destroyed by it all. 34. the conclusion is officially just salad words about how anime is bad, how animation that is "dark and mature" is bad, how everyone is wrong about everything and she's always right. something about jeffrey dahmer, the series and the people talking about it was disrespectful to the victims and their families... i don't know why. to try to say again smugly "this isn't shocking, this is just bad"? i do find funny how she spend at least 10 minutes of this video total saying "this doesn't shock me, this is boring to me, i have seen more shocking stuff", while she ends up saying about how the people who claim were not affected by the jeffrey dahmer show and wanted more gore are pathetic losers. she just keeps describing herself and insulting herself alone. nobody cares that incest doesn't shock you, LO. we know that already, it's part of the allegations. you're not helping your case confirming that we're right.

35. so in the minute 43: 54 flashes this screenshot:

for the record i censored the user. LO didn't. LO openly just published this screenshot from a random user and claim that they're lying about being a incest survivor. LO just grabbed a innocent person who never interacted with her, who never said a word about her, exposed their name for her entire audience to go find and harass and she just erased whatever trauma this person could be dealing with. again, LO doesn't know this person. the only post of them that LO could have seen is this one. and this one is enough to convince LO that they're lying about their trauma only to get a pass for shipping two characters. this is despicable behavior. if i have to convince you of how this bad it is, then i can't help you, because i think it should be plenty of an explanation.

i'm not going to bother with the rest. i'm done. this was a waste of time and a disgusting one at that only used to keep making her little pity part about Courtney for having the gall of not being happily incet with her. don't watch the video directly from her, download it with any of the link on my pin or any other method. don't go search that user. don't bother anyone LO mentioned.

#lily orchard

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escapetheshark · 10 months

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Lost in Paradise (Nanami x fem!reader) 18+ smut; angst

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst; strangers to lovers

Words: 5,300

CW: adult language; explicit sexual themes

Summary: You're in Tokyo for your sister's wedding and not having a good time until you meet the tall handsome stranger.

Masterlist | Ko-fi

The bright bustling blinding lights of the city render me dumbfounded, for one. It feels like watching a film, simultaneously in slow motion and sped up. The noise is deafening and comforting at the same time, like your favourite song played awfully loud at a bar in a town you've never visited before. Nothing makes sense but everything comes together in a cacophony of blood rushing through tired veins and arteries. Glass clicks, people chat away over the music that plays through speakers, some pop tunes from the top charts. Faces, faces and more faces emerge, re-emergence and disappear, all of them the same, yet all of them so different, each of them telling its own story, thousands of stories I will never know. And they will never know mine either. The joys of being unknown...!

It's getting late , I muse as I take one last sip of the weak beer in front of me, searching the crowd for something. Something . I don't even know what. Something familiar, something cosy. But the search is in vain. There's a large group of men in suits and ties that appear to be a lot more intoxicated than one should be at this hour. A pair of awkward lovers sharing what seems like a first date. Yet another group - of foreigners this time, loud Americans celebrating something. And then there is me, sitting alone, watching attentively as everyone else's lives unfold right in front of my eyes and my own is stagnant. I better be going now.

"Did you enjoy your evening stroll? Where did you go?"

"Nowhere," I blurt out, "just some bar in Shibuya."

"Met anyone interesting," she inquired, winking, a very small tinge of disdain in her voice. "Shibuya is a haven for rich businessmen, you know?"

"Yeah, that seemed to be the theme," I shrugged, uninterested and aggravated by my sister’s insistence. "You need to stop trying to set me up with anyone that breathes."

"Well, I'm trying to help." Her condescending tone, disguised as genuine concern, made my stomach turn in pure disgust. "You're thirty years old and still single!"

There it was again, the condescending tone she had mastered over the years, something she had learned from mum. Even her voice sounded nearly the same. She had also inherited our mother's beauty, which had earned her all those trophies growing up.

"I'm fine with being single," I shrugged once more, trying not to physically roll my eyes. I heard her half mutter whatever under her breath as she took an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it.

"Well, I'll make sure to sit you next to some hot bachelor at the dinner party."

As much as I would have loved to retaliate, shout at her to leave me alone and be content with her perfect life, I couldn't bring myself to speak up, not in her home, in front of her soon-to-be husband as he slowly ate his rice porridge, completely ignoring the discussion at hand. He was a calm man, barely spoke a word, perhaps out of shyness or an unshakable desire to not be perceived - a stark contrast from my obnoxious, extroverted sister. How they came to be, I will never understand. Opposites attract, or whatever they say. She finished her apple and moved on to a cup of black coffee, completely ignoring the full table her fiancé had set for us: bread, jams, peanut butter, chocolate and hazelnut spread... Something about needing to lose a couple of kilos to fit in her wedding dress. I absentmindedly grabbed a slice of toasted Hokkaido milk bread and slathered salted butter all over it, earning a bashful little smile from my brother-in-law, proud of his northern Japanese dairy heritage. He told my sister she looked perfect as she was and there was no need to diet so much, but she was quick to shrug him off. Before I could witness any further domesticity, the man got up, pecked her lips and left the house in a hurry, leaving the both of us in awkward silence.

“Any plans for the day?”

“I hear Roppongi Hills is nice,” I half-sighed, taking a sip of my coffee. “I might go check that out.”

“Don’t forget about the rehearsal dinner tonight, at six,” she reminded me, even though I hadn’t forgotten at all. How could I forget about something she constantly mentioned? “Don’t be late and wear something decent, his parents will be there.”

“Yes, sir,” I mocked, rolling my eyes in disdain. The tone of her voice when she spoke to me always sounded so crude, so uninterested, like a queen addressing her subordinates. She’s always been the pretty one, the overachiever, getting married at twenty-five to a rich banker and living in a gorgeous flat in central Tokyo while I did nothing but mope around, single and fat and eating whipped cream straight from the can on a Friday night. I had forgotten how miserable my existence should make me feel until I arrived at my sister's beautiful two-bedroom apartment two miles away from Roppongi Hills, where she lived with her kind and loving and filthy rich almost-husband who worshipped her like the goddess she’s always thought she was. Should I hate myself a bit more?

Warm hues bathed the city as I made my way towards the restaurant, walking slowly and taking in the scenery of vibrant fleeting lights, concrete jungle where some dreams are made and some come to die. A small crowd gathered around an unassuming entrance, decorated with traditional Japanese paper lanterns - which I learned are called chochin . Looking at the GPS, it seemed like the small wooden door really was the restaurant my sister had picked for her first rehearsal dinner (first of a few, apparently, all of which I’d have to attend). I scanned the small crowd for any kind of familiar face and soon, the realisation hit me that I was very underdressed for the occasion in my simple black flared jumpsuit, black moccasins and the small white Dior bag my sister had given me for my birthday years ago, just to remind me that she’s well off. On most other occasions, my outfit could be considered put together but, next to all these people sporting intricate dresses, perfectly tailored suits and stilettos, I looked like an 18-year-old in their first job interview. Panic settled in as I approached them, their voices distant as if my head was being held underwater. I stood awkwardly near the thirty or so people, trying not to mingle, my eyes searching for my sister or her fiancé, but not finding them. Instead, a low male voice made itself clear right behind me.

“I take it you’re the bride’s sister,” he said. I slowly turned around to find a tall man with distinct blonde hair smiling calmly. “We’ll be seated soon.”

“Oh hello. Yes, that’s me,” I offered a lopsided grin, feeling my stomach turn in hunger but also in discomfort. “I feel like she didn’t tell me anything about this dinner although I’ve been hearing about it for months.”

A small old man slid the bamboo door open and guided all of us inside his little restaurant, cosy yet very expensive-looking. I imagined the tables had been rearranged to accommodate our event, as well as the decorations which seemed a bit too bridal for a regular upscale restaurant. Each of the six tables was decorated with a gorgeous flower arrangement, porcelain dishes and bamboo chopsticks neatly set up on the table. It seemed odd that such a homely place was chosen for a posh wedding-related dinner but, knowing my sister, this little family restaurant was probably one of the most expensive places in Tokyo. Near each of the plates rested a name card, so I went around and searched for mine, with my name written in the Roman alphabet and, underneath it, in katakana. I took my seat and noticed that, to my left, was the man I had met just five minutes prior at the entrance, his place card reading Kento Nanami. Our eyes met once more but, this time, I spared him more than a quick glance. His hair, under the dim warm light of the restaurant, seemed to be a very natural shade of blonde and his eyes, hooded and hazel, had an interesting shape to them. He was a handsome man, I thought to myself, observing the way his large veiny hands rested atop the table, his fingers moving slightly in restrained nervousness.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” he chuckled. I didn’t have time to respond as my sister and her fiancé made their somewhat dramatic entrance, causing the entire room to gasp as I rolled my eyes in annoyance. The couple sat side by side at the top of my table, his parents across from myself and Nanami.

“Could be worse,” I whispered to the blonde man, receiving a gentle kick to my leg in response as he shushed me with his facial expression only. I couldn’t help but exhale sharply, containing my laughter.

There was sushi, sashimi and several Japanese delicacies I had never even heard of, all of it exquisite and fresh. The plum wine ended up being a favourite and I could feel my head become heavier with each glass, one more bit of food down in a semi-fruitless attempt at staying fully awake and in charge of my body. Time went by in a daze and, somehow, I blinked once and most tables were empty, except for my own. Instinctively, I glanced over to my left, seeing the tall man sip on something - booze? Water? My sister, her fiancé and his parents shared a quiet conversation as Nanami checked his phone. I figured my absence wouldn’t be felt and wordlessly excused myself to use the lavatory, the sudden cold air reminding me that sobriety was long gone. Sometime between the fifth and eighth glass of the saccharine plum wine, my brain had become foggy.

“I don’t think your sister would approve of this behaviour, miss.” I turned around, cigarette dangling between my lips and lighter in hand, to find Nanami standing there, in all his six feet glory, hair and suit immaculate, as he took a long puff of his own fag.

“You’re one to talk,” my words came out slurred and not as cool as I had planned in my head. Still, he let out a heartfelt chuckle. Maybe it was the booze, but the bass in his voice vibrated through my core. “Is she still sucking up to the in-laws?”

“I believe so,” he shrugged before puffing out the smoke. “You don’t seem to be close.”

“Yeah, we’re not,” I sighed, taking another drag of my cigarette, swallowing the smoke, my eyes darting up to the night sky. There was far too much light pollution to be able to see the stars but, on the other hand, Nanami was right there looking beautiful and tall. Maybe it’s the booze, but I would definitely -

“You should go home,” his voice interrupted my ungodly thoughts, thankfully.

“I’d love to, but my ride doesn’t seem too keen.”

“It’s a twenty-minute walk, you’ll be fine,” he replied, taking a couple of steps towards the main street. Incredulous, I followed behind him, mostly out of curiosity and drunkenness. It had become significantly colder and I shuddered, goosebumps all over my exposed arms. Like a true gentleman, Kento simply draped his jacket over my shoulders and continued leading the way through streets I vaguely recognised. “I’ve messaged your sister, she knows you’re safe.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” My legs had started to give out and I nearly collapsed but, luckily, I found myself being led inside the house. “Goooood niiiight.”

I felt myself drift off as if floating on a particularly puffy cloud and the next time I opened my eyes, my head felt twice its size. Has the sun always been this bright? The smell of bacon that would normally cause me to salivate, this time felt vomit-inducing and I was on the verge of exploding right there, on the luxurious leather sofa in my sister’s Tokyo apartment. Outside her ceiling-to-floor windows, the sun beamed gorgeously; yet, I couldn’t bring myself to appreciate it over the headache that had started to form in my temples, pulling all the way to the back of my head. Last night was a bit of a blur - something about rich people eating decadent food in a far too expensive restaurant, some kind of sweet alcohol, a tall blonde man…

The following days all blurred together in a haze of wedding preparations, my sister raising her voice at people randomly, her fiancé apologising on her behalf, flowers and final touches on what was meant to be my sister’s big day, the best day of her life, her life-long princess dream. Thankfully, she had been so busy bossing people around and making florists cry that she barely had time to be unpleasant towards me. Even her fiancé, usually very calm and collected, had started to show signs of losing his mind a little. I often wondered what a man so gentle and soft-spoken could have seen in someone as entitled as my sister, but opposites seem to attract - at least in this case. I’d bitten my tongue more than once to avoid telling the man that he deserved better, he deserved someone who gave him less shit and wasn’t as cunty as my sister. But I’m sure he knows what he has to deal with and perhaps she’s a lot softer with him than she’s always been with me, who knows. Soon enough, however, I was being reminded of yet another rehearsal dinner - this time, a more important one - that was to take place right there, in the apartment, with just a handful of guests. Apparently, this was the last chance to make changes to catering or anything related to the reception, so both my sister and her fiancé seemed very on edge. I found it quite odd to be so shaken by a dinner party - a glorified dinner party. Still, it would give me another chance to mingle with the tall blonde man from the other day. Unfortunately, the memories of the previous rehearsal dinner had started to trickle back in and I was starting to think he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me.

“Try wearing something decent this time,” my sister told me as I ate my lunch, which she had skipped yet again (“My last dress fitting is fast approaching and I really need to fit!”) Sure, the jumpsuit wasn’t the classiest thing in the world, but I didn’t think it looked bad at all…! But as she became more and more aggravated, I thought I’d make a bit of an effort to not piss her off. “And you’re not drinking.”

“Yes, mother,” I sighed in annoyance, rolling my eyes to the back of my head so hard I saw a glimpse of my brain. “Will do.”

Upstaging my sister would be more of a mistake than not looking good enough but I managed to pick out a dusty rose sheath dress with a V-neck, not too deep to avoid showing too much cleavage (which would certainly upstage my sister’s smaller breasts). I merely curled my hair a little, letting it drape down my shoulders and borrowed my sister’s makeup to create a simple look that would certainly be nowhere near as good as hers, given that she went to cosmetology school and all. Still, when looking at the final product in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel cute - a feeling somewhat foreign to me, growing up as the fat and ugly older sister. Maybe the tall blonde man would even like the view. God, that’s so dumb , I laughed to myself before the doorbell rang. Soon enough, the small apartment (yet, bigger than most flats in the area) would be filled with chatter, smooth jazz background music and even laughter. His parents were there, elegant and poised as always, along with his older brother and the tall blonde man, whose name I’ve forgotten, most likely due to all the alcohol I ingested the last time I met him. Seeing his family and best friend sitting at the table like that, it hit me that my sister must have been incredibly lonely in her gilded Tokyo prison. All she had was her husband and some casual acquaintances from work - definitely people she could hang out with and have a few drinks, but not really close friends. She’d given up the familiar scent of home for a completely new city, a giant city where she knew nobody and everybody seemed so distant. Sure, she’s still awfully privileged but it must be tough…

“Fancy seeing you here.”

If I had balls, they would have dropped five thousand feet upon hearing that familiar voice, enveloped by a warm, smoky scent with citrusy notes, so pleasant on my nostrils. And that face, equally as pleasant, smiling at me. I could have tried to keep my cool but I let my enthusiasm show with an ear-to-ear grin. Without warning, the man held my hand in his, lifting it up to his lips and giving it a gentle kiss, his hazel eyes on mine. Heat pooled at the apples of my cheeks, as well as other spots I shall not name.

“It’s my pleasure,” I giggled like a schoolgirl. Before the interaction could go any further, we were being invited to take our seats at the table. A small thin man in a black chef’s coat served the food, which I imagined he prepared himself, careful to plate it beautifully and up to my sister’s insane standards. The food seemed never-ending, as well as the drinks. I did exercise caution, though, trying to avoid a catastrophe similar to the previous week’s.

Once again, I found myself outside accompanied by the blonde man - named Kento, as he reminded me. Both of us (mostly) sober, cigarette in hand, huffing and puffing in the balcony, overlooking the city lights. Inside, my sister and her newfound family seemed to be getting along. But none of that mattered when I had the most beautiful view: Kento. And well, Tokyo.

“So, when are you going back home?”

Home , he said, as if I really have one. Of course, he probably just meant to ask when I’m flying back but, perhaps the little bit of alcohol I was allowed at dinner was taking its toll. Or perhaps, the mesmerising city lights made me feel more sentimental than I should have been feeling. It took me a moment to reply, but I finally came back from my quick joyride into my own mind and I shrugged: “I guess after the wedding when they go on honeymoon.”

He merely nodded, looking off into the distance at the hustle and bustle a dozen metres below our feet. A comfortable and warm silence took over as we gazed into the night sky, unable to see any stars, but imagining them was still fun.

“You know, where I’m from, you can see the entire galaxy when the sky is clear,” he suddenly broke the silence, his voice softer than before. I chuckled at how adorable he sounded, slightly out of character for such a well-dressed and pristine man.

“You’re not from Tokyo?”

“No,” he replied, his eyes still trained on the night sky. “I’m from a small town in Hokkaido.” I merely nodded, pretending I even knew where Hokkaido was, ashamed of myself for not knowing anything about my brother-in-law’s birthplace. “We’re famous for dairy products and milk bread.” The low chuckle he let out somehow hit right in my core and I looked up at him, his calm demeanour contrasting with his chiselled cheekbones and serious face. I found myself wondering if he’s always looked this serious. “My mother is from Denmark, but I’ve never been.”

“I guess that’s where the blonde hair comes from,” I absentmindedly commented, causing him to laugh. He looked at me for a moment and my knees wobbled a little. He’s very handsome , I thought to myself. But mostly, very real. Attainable, gentlemanly, soothing. His presence felt like a warm towel after swimming in the cold ocean. I remembered him mentioning he worked in an office and did some sort of boring, unimportant job that he hated and how that made him feel utterly useless in the grand scheme of things. Looking at him, though, so tall and proper, his suit immaculate and his hair so neat, I never would have guessed someone so put together could struggle so much. He has that in common with my sister.

Looking through the glass door back at the inside of the house, I could see the in-laws leaving, being sent off by my sister who looked incredibly worn out. Her fiancé slid the glass door open to greet me and Nanami, mentioning that they would go to bed early, “but feel free to stay up,” he said. Truth is, I didn’t want to go to bed, or anywhere else. I wanted to stay right there, on the balcony, with that man I had so recently met but had somehow stolen my heart. Perhaps it was just the loneliness washing over me like a tidal wave, but I truly was ready to give myself to this man, maybe too eager to just feel something real, something palpable. It’s been so long…

“I’m still lost here,” he sighed. “In this giant fucking city.”

“How long have you been here for?”

“About… five years?”

Five years. Five years and he still feels lost.

“She’s been here for five too, I think,” I commented, referring to my sister. “They met at some college party when he was studying abroad, even though she likes to pretend it was far classier than a drunken make-out session.”

He chuckled again, this time turning to face me, his face illuminated by the dim light coming from inside the apartment. I wondered if I should kiss him, even though we were both quite sober. He seemed to read my mind because, within a second, his lips hovered just above mine, his eyes closed. I wasn’t sure what to do - if I should just let myself go, just this once. However, when I was about to go for it, I felt his lips ghost over my neck instead.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Living a little,” he murmured in my ear, trailing gentle kisses down my neck and back up. “If you’ll allow me.” His kisses stopped so he could face me, his cheeks rosy. I don’t remember seeing him drink much besides a couple of glasses of wine.

“Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m just quite needy,” he smiled. “But maybe I should just go home.”

Watching him leave, my heart skipped a beat and I found myself tugging at his sleeve like a desperate little girl. I hated myself for it but, at the same time, my own neediness had started to eat me up alive. There was a gorgeous man in front of me, willing to share his heartbeat with mine, even if it was only a one-night thing. Who gives a shit? Live a little…!

“Please-”

“Please, what,” the smirk that adorned his beautiful face seemed almost devilish, paired with the hint of lust in his eyes.

“I’ve been sleeping in my sister’s spare room,” I blurted out, incapable of making it any more straight to the point. “The bed is big enough…”

“Big enough for what?”

He seemed to be enjoying seeing me all flustered, shyly dancing around the subject at hand. Before I could come up with a reasonable answer to his question, an answer that seemed sensible and in no way inappropriate, his lips were brushing every so gently against my earlobe and his voice came as a soft whisper: “show me, then.”

To say that my heart was pounding in my chest was an understatement. It was rushing, crushing my ribs as it nearly exploded and imploded, Kento’s lips finally crashing into mine with the force of a rogue wave. It’s sloppy, almost too wet, too eager. Our teeth clash and I feel him laughing into my mouth before pulling away, his face flustered. He leans in again, his hand cupping my chin and, this time, the kiss is much more tender, less hungry, delivered with more expertise, as if he was trying to make up for the messy first kiss. I forgot where I was when I was and all I did was to be, to just exist in a state of nothing but bliss as Kento’s warm tongue enveloped my own and his fingers found their way around my skin, mapping it out with all the care in the world, just in case he gets lost in me. I didn’t think I would find anything in Tokyo but finding Kento was more than enough to satisfy my wanderlust.

“Why are you so needy,” I teased as his mouth found its way around the supple skin of my neck, trailing open mouth kisses down to my collarbones.

“It’s been a while,” he began, stopping his ministrations simply to look into my eyes with a longing I was barely familiar with. “Since I’ve felt anything other than despair.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t conjure up the right words as I saw his eyes fill with emotions. He kissed me again, and each kiss felt different from the previous one, but all of them felt filling, like a warm meal on a cold winter’s day. This man I barely knew somehow felt more welcoming than anything I’d experienced in Tokyo over the past couple of weeks - I was seen, I was heard, I was the centre of the world even for a minute. His nimble fingers found their way around the streets and alleys of my body, lingering in the best spots, no need for a guidebook. In the back of my mind, the thought that I’d probably never see this man again after the wedding bore holes into my soul, even if my body refused to acknowledge them. What poetic injustice to be so easily found only to be lost again…!

“Do you like that?”

I was saved from my depressing inner monologue by his soft voice whispering in my ear, coaxing me to moan gently, nodding quickly when his fingers curved a certain way into me. “M-more,” I pleaded and he was happy to oblige. Memories of less-than-stellar encounters with men as handsome as this one played in my head for a brief moment before I could really enjoy his ministrations, his free hand coming to press at my mouth in an attempt to keep me quiet. Everything he did brought nothing but pure euphoria. Yet, when I suggested returning the favour, he would simply mewl out next time… There will probably not be a next time, I cried to myself, but my cries got caught up in my throat when his lips pressed against mine once more, again and again, his body moulding into mine so perfectly they could have been made for one another. All of it was tender, gentle, loving as lovers do. It didn’t even occur to me that he would probably be gone in the morning, leaving me to wonder whether I just had a wonderful dream.

Much to my dismay, I did wake up alone in a bed that seemed too immense, even though it was simply a double bed. However, before I could sulk at the thought of being left alone like some kind of bad hookup, like when I was nineteen, Kento walked into the room, already fully dressed in last night’s suit.

“Your sister knows we both slept here but she thinks I slept on the sofa, so play along,” he chuckled, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Please call me.”

The date approached quicker than I had expected and things became chaotic amidst final preparations for the most important day of my sister’s life, according to her. She was so caught up in the rush of it all that she didn’t even ask about Kento, she barely spoke to me about anything that wasn’t her wedding - which is understandable, I thought. I would occasionally sneak out to meet up with Kento at some hole in the wall pub where we would drink a little, talk a little, kiss a little. But right when I had started to accustom myself with this new routine of seeing him every other day or so, kissing in some dark place for a while until we were separated by our own responsibilities and speaking via text message during the day - it all came to an end. The wedding day was my last chance to spend time with him before I had my flight back home.

“You two seem to have hit it off,” my sister laughed, a little bit tipsy, the strap of her white dress falling down her shoulder. I fixed it for her with a smile on my face, realising that no matter how bitchy she gets, she’s my own flesh and all the bad blood between us seemed to boil down to mostly being pitted against one another from an early age: by our own family members, friends, people around us in general. But none of that mattered, not when she looked stunning, glowing, celebrating the love I never realised she had in her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I felt my face heat up, looking down at the way her dress flowed down her tall body. “Kento is just a nice guy.”

“If you say so,” she laughed, her face rosy, eyes wide, like that time when we were kids when we found the key to the box where our parents hid all the sweets. “I’ve known Kento for years now and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile as much.”

Curiosity getting the best of me, I peeked over my shoulder to see the man standing next to the buffet table, picking up a mini éclair and smiling like an idiot. A gorgeous idiot. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over me and I had to fight the tears from rolling down my face. Happy tears, tears of a cosmic joy I don’t think I’ve ever experienced. It’s as if the entirety of my life, all its ups and downs, all the pain was floating in a pool of salt and sage and, for once, I could allow myself some feelings. And boy, did I have a lot of those…!

“I love you, you stupid slut.” On hearing those words, the tears I had been doing such a good job at keeping at bay just gained a life of their own as I embraced my sister tightly. “I love you too, you idiot whore,” I laughed, her boobs pressing so hard against my chest I thought she was going to burst. Maybe she did, maybe she burst with love on that day. And honestly, so did I. Kento and I shared our last kiss and, before I knew it, I was on a plane back home, my bag full of memories, party favours from the wedding, cheap Japan souvenirs and Kento’s shirt he had given me as a parting gift. Everything felt different like the world had gained new weird colours I’d never seen before - colours that didn’t seem to fade even in the darkness. So many faces around me, so many stories, even here in my hometown, far smaller than Tokyo. All these stories I would never know and some of them were meant to tangle with mine.

#nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagine #jjk smut

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eastgaysian · 1 year

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Sincere question: I don't understand your reaction here: "also the fact i had to look up lottie's actress to be like wait is she mixed. it's just a bit silly to me tbh" . Are you saying the show should have explicitly discussed her ethnic background? Is it because you think her possible powers are related to her being Maori, or like in general it should have been more obvious?

this is a complicated one to answer because i feel like i have to go macro -> micro to get all my thoughts out sensibly. but we'll get there i promise

the genre of survivalist fiction, more specifically the deserted island/stranded in the wilderness narrative, is racially loaded. sometimes this is patently obvious, ie robinson crusoe and the character of friday, but even with a cast of entirely white characters the concept of uninhabited and untamed wilderness (which the white characters either tame or are degraded by) is tied to colonialism*, as is the tension between what is viewed as civilized or uncivilized behavior, good christian morality vs primitive/barbaric 'savagery', etc.

(* this isn't necessarily constant throughout history/a global context but is absolutely a part of this genre and the american context of yellowjackets)

yellowjackets seems to promise a deconstruction of the genre by focusing on the psychological horror angle with a diverse cast of teenage girls, as well as reflecting on how the trauma of that event would carry on into life after rescue. and like, i like it! i think it's fun to watch, it succeeds at entertaining me. but i really think it drops the ball when it comes to examining the racial implications of this kind of story.

it's clear that there's some degree of thought and significance put into taissa as a Black female character: her conversation with van about Black characters dying first in horror movies, the conversation with that potential donor who feels entitled to her trauma because of All She's Done For You People, her being the first Black female senator of new jersey.

...so what exactly are we supposed to make of the fact that she has an Evil Personality that first emerged after the crash, who eats dirt and bites people and makes shrines with broken dolls and dog heads, just lurking under the surface waiting until she loses control? the other characters are definitely psychologically disturbed, but the regression to this 'wild' state is extreme and reserved for taissa. why? it doesn't critically examine or deconstruct the ways in which the behavior we view as 'feral' is racialized. at best it's thoughtless, at worst it's actively engaging in racist tropes.

on the other hand you have lottie, whose racial identity isn't brought up in the text, but is at least a consistent casting decision for teen/adult lottie and her parents. the role she fills of being converted (to a point?) and baptized by a devoted white christian girl and then becoming an occult mystic who communes with the wilderness and wears deer antlers to try and lead a ritual human sacrifice is extremely racially loaded. i wouldn't have been irked by the lack of acknowledgment if this wasn't her role. but because it hasn't been brought up and it's not critically examined, i'm not sure whether the show wants me to think her possible powers are related to her being māori, and either way the implications are really troubling to me.

i'm not #cancelling the show i'm just disappointed by what feels like a huge oversight with regards to the racialized aspects of the genre. narratively i also think the build up of the maybe-supernatural elements was kind of all over the place which doesn't help but that's not really here nor there. it just doesn't sit well with me!

#mingbox #yellowjackets

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blackswaneuroparedux · 1 year

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Butch: What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful. Guard: People kept robbing it. Butch: Small price to pay for beauty.

- William Goldman, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay (1970)

In a brilliant William Goldman script peppered with memorable lines, the first exchange sets the tone of this classic Western movie. Butch looks around a bank at closing time, chatting with the security guard as he perhaps sizes up his next job.

“What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful.” “People kept robbing it.” “That’s a small price to pay for beauty.”

Right away, Goldman establishes Butch as a charismatic mouthpiece for the quip-ready screenwriter, contrasting nicely with the Sundance Kid, Robert Redford’s taciturn sharpshooter. But he’s also created two heroes who break the western mold, neither justice-seeking white-hats nor grizzled, sneering black-hats, and not as traditionally masculine as either party. Butch is a man who appreciates beauty and art, but doesn’t have the stomach for violence; it’s not until late in the film that we (and the Kid) discover that he’s never shot a man before and he looks sickened to have to do it. He’s a pleasure-seeker above all else: robbing banks and trains are his way to make an easy living and enjoy whatever sinful freedoms his vocation affords him.

Audiences in 1969 were all too happy to embrace the light, quippy irreverence of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid after a turbulent summer, and Goldman, director George Roy Hill, and the two impossibly handsome stars made them feel cool for doing it. True Grit had performed well earlier in the year as a throwback to the genre’s past, giving John Wayne a proper victory lap, but Butch Cassidy was thoroughly modern, a star-making vehicle for Newman and Redford that reflected a need for the genre to turn the page and that feels as much of its time as it does authentic to Wyoming in the late 1890s. With Katherine Ross at the centre of a love triangle between friends, the film attempted to bring a French Jules and Jim vibe to the American mainstream, taking a lesson from the French new wave on how to revive old Hollywood craft.

It still works spectacularly well. There’s an alchemy up and down the production. Redford possesses easy charm, which parries so well with Newman’s smarts that the two would run it back again with Hill a few years later in The Sting.

The pop doodling of Burt Bacharach’s musical score is about as far from a traditional western score as possible, but it somehow meshes with the sepia sheen of Conrad Hall’s photography, which burnishes the legend of these two men while their story is still being told. And while Goldman’s screenplay dances on the edge of glib, it’s lively and sophisticated, with a strong theme about the capitalist forces that really tamed the Wild West.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is such a rollicking good time that it takes a while to notice it’s about the end of the line for its heroes, whose celebrity is already widespread when the film opens and ultimately hastens their demise. “Your times is over and you’re gonna die bloody,” warns a sheriff, prophetically, in an early scene, and the film is mostly about Butch and Sundance getting chased out of America by hired guns and dying at the hands of the Bolivian army.

They’re mostly guilty of stealing from the wrong guy: EH Harriman, the railroad tycoon, spends more trying to catch them than they rob from his safes, but it’s an opportunity for a powerful man to send a message about who’s really in charge. Guys like Butch and Sundance can handle local lawmen and half-hearted posses, but they can’t fight progress. The EH Harrimans along with the the Rockefellers, JP Morgans, and the Carnegies and of the world - the original robber barons - would make certain of that.

#goldman #william goldman #quote #butch cassidy and the sundance kid #film #movie #cinema #hollywood #paul newman #robert redford #cowboys #western #america #wild west #society #culture #arts #capitalism

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coolfire333 · 17 days

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Genuinely really loving the rap/music discourse going around...let's all expand our perspectives a little but for the love of god some of you (not anyone I follow) are literally so stupid

Disclaimer: I am a little worried since it's easy to throw stones at "boring white girl music" which makes me wonder if this is just going to end up dunking on women in a veiled-sexist manner in general a la the "pumpkin spice white girls" trend that was popular a while back that basically was just making fun of women for having harmless fun under the guise that they were "basic white girls"

HOWEVER everyone in the notes of posts that are even slightly rude or poking fun at popular white musicians getting all up and arms because some (likely black) blogger poked fun at their (likely white) precious punk music or girlypop diva are really showing their ass on this one

As someone with a background in music and music history I can confidently say that nearly every popular genre in mainstream music would not exist without the innovations of black (usually American) musicians. And I think that's super neat! Ragtime, jazz, gospel, soul, r&b, blues, rock, pop, hip-hop, rap, all uniquely American genres that came largely, if not entirely, from the ideas of black Americans.

I'm undoubtedly missing some genres (I'm a bit old-school at heart so I don't know what's trendy now or where exactly it came from) but if you're American and on this website, doesn't that give you a form of national pride? That all those years ago people from your country were able to create new musical styles that have, for the most part, persisted and spread around the world? Honestly it brings a tear to my eye sometimes listening to old music and realizing how impactful it was on modern music genres.

Instead of going "ewww I don't like xyz" why not ask a fan of that kind of music why they like it and maybe what recommendations they have for someone who doesn't listen to that genre. And if you really don't gel with a genre for whatever reason, at least treat it respectfully and recognize its impact on the genres of music you do listen to.

"Ohhh but rap is just sex, drugs, and violence," I hear some of you saying. Well, keep in mind that that same critique has been used for pop, rock, jazz, ragtime, and pretty much every other "new" (keyword "black-influenced") art form so you really want to be careful labelling an entire genre as that. Controversy sells, so think about why exactly "mindless" rap might be the rap you're exposed to or most familiar with from the radio instead of more serious or contemplative rap songs.

Also realize that the songs you like probably also discuss drugs, sex, and violence, but perhaps less directly or in a way that's somehow more tolerable for you. Explore why! Why is it ok for (insert genre you like here) to talk about mature or "dark" themes but when rap does it it's suddenly offensive to you.

It's ok to have biases and be working on them! Also, if someone is trying to criticize a group you're part of for being biased, and they're trying to do it respectfully and seriously, don't joke around like "oh LOL that's so me" and don't get overly defensive either. Be serious and respectful back and genuinely listen to what they're saying.

Literally just don't be a jerk to music and art of marginalized communities! Is it really that hard to have respect for other people even if you don't 100% understand the culture from your perspective?

#serious #text post #talking #music #long post

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fourseasonscomeandgo · 1 year

Text

Let them know.

Pairing: SNSD Sooyoung x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: Fluff.

TW: Mentions of infertility, alcohol, cursing.

Clarification: BLACKPINK 5th member!reader.

"Who brought bungeoppang?"

"There's bungeoppang!?"

"Bless the person who brought bungeoppang."

"Oh my god, bungeoppang reminds me of high school."

"Oh, I brought them."

"Everyone, let's hear it for Kwon Yuri!" You stood up from your chair, starting to celebrate the girl's contribution to tonight's dinner.

Everyone else at the table followed your actions, adding some whistle or shout of encouragement.

"Thank you, thank you, I only meant to bring real holiday snacks." Replied the woman at the group reaction.

"Hey, no one thanked me for my hotteok." Hyoyeon's voice was heard, complaining.

"They're burnt!" Tiffany reproached.

"Well, then you should've made them!" Countered the blonde.

"I'm american!" She defended herself.

"I don't see you brought any burgers either!" Added the dancer, crossing her arms, earning a few laughs from the people witnessing the fight.

"I brought something more important," the black haired took a bottle of champagne in her hands and shook it slightly above her head "alcohol!" She finished causing everyone else to once again cheer.

"Congratulate me on my hotteok, please." Hyoyeon repeated whining, sitting down again and kicking her feet to show her anger.

"Come to think of it, no one said anything about my khao pad either!" Spoke Lisa joining the discussion "Hyoyeon we're victims!"

"Right?"

Both girls reached out to each other to hug and suffer their feigned pain.

"Thank you for your contributions," soothed your girlfriend, Sooyoung, coming back from the kitchen and sitting next to you "at least you brought something." She turned to look at you accusingly, referring to the fact that you didn't prepare any food for the gathering.

"It's my house!" It was the eighth time you'd said that so far tonight.

"And you couldn't even buy snacks?"

"I offered you guys my home!"

Everyone loves the holidays. The special food, getting together with people you love, not working, getting drunk, the happy atmosphere. Regardless of what your favorite holiday is or what you are celebrating, they are always beautiful times of the year.

This Christmas had started out a little sad for you and everyone close to you, as everyone is swamped with work, and really, no one could take many days off, which meant not spending the holidays with your families. In just a few days you and the other Blackpink members would have to leave Korea to continue your tour, while your girlfriend and her group would continue with their extremely full schedules.

Your girlfriend, Sooyoung.

No one knew she was your girlfriend.

Sometimes it seemed unfair to you, to be with someone like her, so smart, beautiful and funny, but not being able to show her off to anyone. However it was the best thing for both of you, you could live your life as a couple in peace, have your problems without anyone prying, have your tender moments where no one would tease you, love each other without anyone asking why or how.

But as the relationship became more and more serious, it was getting closer to the time to whitewash it to your loved ones.

The members of Blackpink and SNSD had become close over time, the relationship started through Jennie and Taeyeon who became friends as they took their dogs to play together, then you met Seohyun at a drama filming set and instantly hit it off. Eventually, having similar experiences as members of successful girl groups, you girls formed a friendship with each other.

And then, a conversation between Tiffany and Rosé ended in the twelve of you spending christmas together at your apartment.

At first it seemed crazy to you, since you don't like to be among so many people. In the end you ended up proposing that it be at your place.

Sooyoung and you had been nervous for weeks, thinking that it was the first time you would be together in front of all the members of both groups. You began discussing how you would go about avoiding as much as possible any act that would give you away as a couple, until you concluded that it was time to confirm that you were together.

"I want to kiss you in the comfort of a meeting with my friends and I want them to know that I love you." Those were the words that convinced you.

It was easy to plan it and think about the time it would happen before the events actually happened, but sitting at the table while eating, thinking that at any moment you would have to confess that you were the people you had been dating for almost a year, was nerve wracking.

Confess? But your friends didn't even expect it to be you.

Everyone knew you were both in relationships, but they didn't even suspect that those relationships were your own selves.

Lisa's khao pads were tasty, you would have enjoyed them if you could consume some without your stomach wanting to throw it up from the nerves.

What you were most uneasy about was seeing Sooyoung in the same state as you. You assumed she would be relaxed, but she was just as desperate as you.

Was she like this because the other members wouldn't accept you?

You made sure no one was watching and tapped your leg against Sooyoung's to get her attention. She watched you, a clear expression of surprise on her face, but before asking you why you wanted her to look at you, she hit you back with her leg.

You frowned, not believing she had just attacked you, to which she laughed at your grimace. You repeated, pushing her leg with yours.

She opened her mouth, incredulous, and copied the action again. Thus the two of you became involved in a silent leg wrestling match.

I mean, to you it was silent, all the other people in the room were watching you, judging.

"Yah, you two," Sunny's voice distracted you "Are you okay, should we take you to play on the swings?"

"Yah, shut up." Exclaimed your girlfriend to her bandmate, then looked at you "Tell them." She demanded.

You were stunned, this is much simpler than you imagined, much more straightforward.

"Just like that?" You questioned raising your eyebrows.

"Tell us what?" Taeyeon asked.

"y/n is going to leave Blackpink!" Lisa shrieked, guessing, covering her face ready to cry.

"No, you idiot, why would I do that?" you dismissed her delirium.

"Did you call me an idiot, you idiot?"

"Are you moving permanently to Los Angeles? This is Tiffany's fault!" Jennie said now.

"No, no."

"How would it be my fault?"

"You're into drugs!?" Seohyun exclaimed.

"Or in the mafia!" Added Yoona.

"In drugs and the mafia!" Concluded Jisoo.

"I'm not involved in anything illegal! Stop it!" You defended yourself.

"Oh my God! y/n is pregnant." Rosé surmised covering her mouth with both hands.

"What? No!" You quickly denied waving your hands in the air.

"And we don't even know who the father is." Yuri reminded, pretending to start sobbing.

"Me! I'm the father! It's me." Shouted Sooyoung, stressed, causing a burial silence.

"Huh?"

"Is y/n infertile and you're going to give her your ovums so she can have a baby?" Hyoyeon assumed.

"y/n you want a baby?" The thai woman looked at you quizzically.

"Why would you want a baby at this age?" Added Jennie.

"y/n don't want a baby! What I mean..." your girlfriend put her hands on her waist and started pacing back and forth, thinking.

She took a deep breath and turned her gaze back to you, everyone else expectant of her actions. She approached you calmly, took your face and left a short kiss on your lips. Then she jumped back and opened her arms pointing at you, as if she was showing you off.

"That!" She uttered.

"Sooyoung you shouldn't do that, y/n is in a relationship." Yuri scolded.

"And in fact so are you!" Supported Lisa.

"You two must have been the ones explaining to Dora where the bridge was." Sunny blurted out, annoyed.

"y/n is my girlfriend, I'm y/n's girlfriend." Sooyoung confessed.

You approached her and put your arm on her shoulder, then left a kiss on her forehead, she wrapped her arms around your waist.

That was it, it was done. Now, they knew.

"And we are very happy." You added.

Your friends started clapping, adulating and even jumping up and down.

And they approved you.

Most important, they still loved you.

"How beautiful is love!" Proclaimed the american.

"Bullshit, it sucks, but yours doesn't suck so much!" Taeyeon disagreed.

"Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!" Initiated a joint chant Rosé.

At the girls' request, Sooyoung and you looked at each other, smiled, and then joined in a tender kiss, which in the background was accompanied by the squeals of the people you loved the most.

"Merry christmas, girlfriend." You spoke when you broke away from her.

"Oh, merry christmas, love of my life." She answered.

"Merry fucking christmas, beautiful ladies!" Cut off Tiffany as she uncorked the drink she brought.

—ica.

#kpop imagines #kpop #snsd x reader #snsd imagines #snsd scenarios #snsd #snsd sooyoung #sooyoung imagines #sooyoung x reader #sooyoung headcanons #sooyoung scenarios

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saintsenara · 8 months

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What are your guilty pleasure tropes?

thank you for the ask @sarafina-sincerity!

forced proximity of any kind

i've answered specifically about one example of this - marriage law fics - here, but the main trope i'm a slut for is absolutely, one hundred percent, without a doubt anything which requires two people who don't want to have to spend time together having to spend time together. with sexy results.

enemies-to-lovers

let's all be honest, one's emotional investment in one's enemy is often more profound than in one's friend. let's also be honest, people become enemies because they have things in common. combine those similarities with the emotional investment? sexy results.

narrative mirror pairings

unsurprisingly, there's often quite a lot of overlap between this and the above. the harry potter series loves assigning its characters to narrative pairs whose roles in the story are the mirror images of each other, but whose personalities, dreams, desires, experiences, motivations etc. are often very similar. and the narrative mirror pairings which fall under this category are always exceptional: harry potter/tom riddle; draco malfoy/ron weasley (getting slept on because of drarry); sirius black/severus snape and so on... sexy results.

magical worldbuilding which feels magical

a lot of fan-fiction falls into one (or both) of two categories: it deals with considerably darker or drier topics (especially when it comes to thinking about how the wizarding state actually works and/or how it changes after voldemort's death) than the canon series; and it serves as a vehicle for the author to talk about aspects of muggle culture they enjoy (this is particularly the case in marauders fics and it drives me mad - none of those children have heard a single piece of cool music in their lives).

but the canon series feels so magical because the worldbuilding is incredibly whimsical, even in the darker later books. something is lost, i think, when wizarding clothing isn't ostentatious and colourful, or wizarding hobbies aren't exaggerated pastiches of muggle hobbies, or wizarding houses are devoid of eccentric kitchen appliances which talk back to you, or all wizards are immediately familiar with the muggle world. i can't express how much i respect it when authors invent their own radio plays or wizarding bands or children's toys.

and that whimsy can exist with a look at deep topics - indeed, it does frequently in one of my favourite literary genres: golden age detective fiction. in fact, i think it makes the dark themes and how they're being interrogated stand out all the clearer. which brings me to my next point...

allowing the characters to be funny

by this i don't mean crack fics - although crack treated seriously is definitely a trope i adore - but finding space for the fact that almost all of the main characters in the series - all the way along a spectrum from the main trio, to ginny, to sirius, to dumbledore, to snape, to voldemort (he's so camp! lean into it!) - are extremely funny, even when in serious situations or discussing serious things.

unfortunately, it is all too common to find - especially in things dealing with the immediate aftermath of either war - that everyone is in their widow's weeds and speaking like they've swallowed a psychology textbook. but actually, harry and ron aren't going to be sitting down for a deep and meaningful using all sorts of 'i feel' statements. they're going to be chatting shit.

[there's a bit of unsolicited advice here, which can, like all unsolicited advice, of course be ignored: this sort of therapy-speak, every-emotion-is-articulated conversational style is something which immediately gives away an author as american (generally, the sort of emotional openness which, in the usa, indicates authenticity will be read as the opposite in the uk - being very earnest is typically perceived as rude, expressing your emotional reaction to everything as fake). if you're looking for a way to make your writing sound more british, the best thing you can do is read ron, and see - as @whinlatter says in this post about him - that his sense of humour isn't evidence of immaturity or an unwillingness to confront tough topics, but evidence that he's the most emotionally mature of the trio. by quite some distance.]

ron and dumbledore being allowed to be real people

i loathe ron and dumbledore bashing. let my kings live.

and let ron be madly in love with hermione. his final form is wife guy.

redemption

i am a villain enjoyer, and i think there's nothing wrong with liking characters who remain unambiguously, unrepentantly evil.

what i like rather less is the idea that villains don't have traits, emotions, experiences, and motivations which aren't anything other than similar to the good guys.

and what i like least of all is the idea that there are some people who are so divergent from the good guys that they are unworthy of one of the most sincerely magical human abilities: the ability to redeem oneself.

yes, even draco malfoy, even snape, even voldemort. unless all of us are capable of redemption then none of us are. this is an important lesson to learn.

how these people redeem themselves, how redemption is complex and painful, how they atone, how they cope with the unmooring experience of forgiveness, how they take to their second chances, and how they stumble on the way are the topics of some of the best fics i have ever read, and i will never get free of the chokehold.

#asks answered #asenora on writing

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oreolesbian · 10 months

Note

right but a lot of the criticism i’ve seen of oppenheimer isn’t that the movie oppenheimer isn’t about the victims but that a movie about oppenheimer & not the victims is what got made

I have definitely seen both of those criticisms. And while there’s merit to ask for films about the victims of the atomic bombings - that’s just the thing. There are films about the victims of the bombs. Many, many films (not to say there can’t be more made today - but to act like this narrative has never been addressed is false). Several of them Japanese films - which I would argue is the crucial POV for comprehending a tragedy that happened in Japan. An American film made by American people is not really the film to be evaluating how the Japanese experienced the atomic bombs. Does that mean a film can’t be made by Americans? Of course not. But one would hope there would be voices consulted and researched.

But to say that there can’t be a film about the man who directly led to the tragedy itself is a bad faith argument. There’s absolutely no reason both stories can’t be told. What would be a mistake would be if Oppenheimer was this big grand-standing story that made everyone who created the bomb look like a hero - the thing people are accusing this film of being. But that’s not what the film is. It’s a character study on a very complex historical figure. It is not glorifying him or the tragedy or the war. And it directly not showing the repercussions on others is both the point and lets the film escape any exploitativeness.

I’m not claiming to be an expert on this entire historical event, but it is very clear to me that saying this film shouldn’t exist is not even trying to engage with the text. Two things can exist. If people feel so strongly about having a narrative on both ends, then they should be talking about films that do talk about the bombings impact, not saying this one film is somehow taking away from the other conversation.

Nolan is not making a story about the victims, and he never claimed to be doing so. He does not have to tell that story either, especially when he probably isn’t the right person to do so.

If anything, the people asking about a film directly about the victims in Los Alamos is a better argument. There is definitely a story to be told there and I would encourage one to be told. However, just because that’s not what Oppenheimer is about doesn’t mean it is somehow morally corrupt or a bad film for that reason. Historical films are easily picked apart because they can always address more, and there are some historical films that get facts wrong in a genuine needs-to-be-fact-checked way, sometimes with intent to avoid controversy and other times to contribute to a narrative being shaped. But it’s also relevant to acknowledge that the focus of Oppenheimer is not the bomb. Or its impacts. Critique the film on its historical shortcomings if need be (I wouldn’t be the person to know all of that in detail), that’s all well and dandy. But this film on its own is a very focused lens idea, not the broad one.

Anyway:

• Hiroshima (1953) dir. Hideo Sekigawa

• Black Rain (1989) dir. Shôhei Imamura

• Barefoot Gen (1983) dir. Mori Masaki (I believe the original manga has many adaptations, but this was the first)

• Rhapsody in August (1991) dir. Akira Kurosawa

• Children of Hiroshima (1952) dir. Kaneto Shindō

• Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959) dir. Alain Resnais

and common misconception that Grave of the Fireflies (1988) dir. Isao Takahata is about the atomic bombings - it’s more about the overall carpet bombings and the toll of WWII in general

hell - the entire kaiju genre is birthed from the artistic response to the atomic bombings : Godzilla (1954) dir. Ishirō Honda

^ these are just some I’ve heard of through my own knowledge / looking some up. can’t attest to their quality - but films like this do exist

#oppenheimer #asks #anon #film stuff #media literacy

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deficd · 3 months

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GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

respond to the prompts out of character!

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? oh man. uh. i guess, following my url's general meaning, i choose to write muses on here that have defied their fates/expectations in some shape or form. this is true for more of my older muses on here, as i've definitely added some recently where i have to kinda twist that a bit. aside from that, i really just write muses that i can connect with on some level. my apparent calling is sad men who are prone to violence and are also incredibly sad/lonely. the mains i have floating in my head are usually there because it's the current media i'm consuming (i.e. star wars: the old republic). i could write long metas on why i adore all of my muses though. c':

is there anything you don’t like to write? uhh, you know. i'm actually pretty open to most things. i need some sort of action going on, regardless of the type, to keep interested i suppose. like, if there's a lot of conversation, i tend to get stuck. that's just because i struggle with it and i don't want to bore my partner, though. aside from that, pretty much any genre you throw at me, i'll be interested in writing.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? I'm a sucker for redemption au's, even if it takes thirty threads to get there. i enjoy writing the aftermath of a character's worst arc, and all of the guilt, pain, and sorrow that comes with it. so do i want to write arcann's redemption? yes. do i want to write about nihilus somehow healing from being a literal wound in the force? yes. (or even, writing who he was before malachor.) ragnar going back to being a farmer? please. all of it, yes. aside from that, i really, really enjoy hurt/comfort, violent/gore threads, general sci-fi adventure, and general fantasy adventure (the campfires, the fights, the enemies in between destinations, etc.)

how do you come up with headcanons? it's kind of a mix between being inspired by outside sources, such as media, music, mututals, and things that pop into my head after hyperfixating about a muse for three straight hours or something. i do adopt headcanons/partial headcanons from other people, but like sparingly and if it's appropriate/i know them/have asked. most of the time i really just get hit in the face with them though.

do you write in silence or do you play music? i am someone that requires music to write. i need to drown out distractions however i can. i really struggle with being easily distracted (getting tested for adhd soon lol) because i can very easily lose a thought before i'm able to write it down. i find that with music i can focus better, and i have playlists that help with whatever mood i'm going for in the reply.

do you plan your replies or wing them? i usually just sort of write what comes to mind first and then, if i have questions about something, i'll either approach the other mun or write things in the tags. sort of referring to the previous question, i try to write my ideas down as soon as i see a reply, or i'll be prone to forgetting them.

do you enjoy shipping? yes, 1000% yes. i love all sorts of relationships, not only the romantic ones. i don't really get to write about platonic/friendships too often, but i really enjoy the times i can. that said, re: romantic ships, i'm usually on board if there's chemistry between muses. i also encourage other muns to approach me if they think they might want to ship because chances are, i'm already on board.

what’s your alias/name? Lee

age? old

birthday? December 25th

favorite color? silver, purple, black

favorite song? i... don't think i can choose? there are all sorts of songs that hit me in the right way. i can tell you a song i'm listening to on repeat right now is The Wind Weeps Eleanor by American Murder Song.

last movie you watched? Hagazussa: A Heathen's Curse, but I hope to go see Dune 2 this week.

last show you watched? just started Shōgun and it's wonderful.

last song you listened to? Dwamn by Tech N9ne 🫣

favorite food? fry bread! or a step further: navajo tacos.

favorite season? winter

do you have a tumblr best friend? um i think i'm close to a few people on here, but the only one i know i can tag for sure is @vuulpecula starbuck has put up with my nonsense on here for years and somehow still talks to me lmfao we have the greatest and the worst ships and honestly i am always always always excited to write with her❤️❤️❤️

and idk if i should tag u because this is an rp meme and this is one of my rp blogs but @oolathurman is my other bestie and i've known and adored them for literal years so. yeah sflkjdslf❤️❤️❤️

TAGGED BY @valorums thank you<3

TAGGING @vuulpecula @riiese @hcxcd @fasciinating @juramentum @mistrdctr / @respondedinkind @auroradicit @red-white-and-trauma @blue-eyed-banshee @helreginn @astridnorddottir @brittlefcrged and YOU!

#dash games.#about the idiot.#x: don't fall behind (queue.)

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bunk12bear · 2 years

Text

Steddie Kids

I've been stuck with the random urge to imagine Steve and Eddie's children/future for some reason. These are written with them both being cis but can be adjusted accordingly if you want one or both of them to be trans.

Steve and Eddie both end up being teachers and end up settling in Chicago using government hush money to buy a nice duplex with Robin and her partner( when people ask how they can afford it they just shrug and say that Steve had Rich parents). I fell in love with Jewish eddie so the kids grow up celebrating both Christian and Jewish holidies.

They all have Eddie's last name because I love the idea of Steve not wanting oto taint something as precious as his children with everything the Harrington name represents or contribute to his Dad having any sort of legacy. Does that make sense logistically I don't know and I don't have any particular urge to figure that out at the moment so 🤷‍♀️

Sarah Munson

Born May 11th 1995( did I make their eldest born in 95 because that was the year I was born, yes yes I did)

Born via a surrogate with eddies DNA and a doner egg

Named after the protagonist in The Labyrinth( Steve and Eddie went to see it on their first date)

Lesbian

she/they

Dark curly hair and big brown doe eyes like Eddie but tan skin and a fuller figure from her bio mom

5' 7"

Whether it's nature or nurture she ends up taking after Eddie loving all things fantasy and Dungeons & Dragons. She also falls in love with alt music/style but ends up going more of a punk/Riot grrrl direction much to Eddie's horror( to be clear I don't think Eddie would super buy into the punk metal rivalry but I love the idea of them getting into albeit friendly arguments about the merits of each genre)

Anthropology PhD student(studying the effect of American mass media on global cultures) and activist

ADHD/Autistic but doesn't struggle in school the same way Eddie did because he and Steve pushed to get her diagnosed when she's little so she has an IEP from kindergarten( to be clear I also think Eddie is ADHD autistic and that's why he struggled so much in school)

Daniel "Danny"Munson

Born july 2nd 1998

Born via a surrogate and a donor egg like Sarah but with Steve's DNA this time

Named for Danny Zuko( I have completely fallen in love with the idea that Steve loves Grease)

arro ace

He/him

Ends up looking like a near carbon copy of Steve except for with black hair and gray eyes from his bio mom

5' 11"

Is athletic like Steve but also follows in his aunt Robin's footsteps and joins the marching band so he only plays sports that don't conflict. Despite for taking in to school activities that put him in a bit of a spotlight he's actually rather shy and soft spoken often having to have his big sister stand up for him. Struggles with reading but still loves discussing books with Eddie and his aunt Nancy. Pretty simple style-wise jeans and a t-shirt kind of guy.

Started a program abused neglected under privileged children both to teach them practical life skills like cooking in taxes and applying for a job but also to offer a warm supportive environment( inspired by learning about how his dads grew up)

Dyslexic; was also diagnosed Young

Charlotte and James Munson

Twins born January 31st 2000

Adopted after a younger coworker got pregnant unexpectedly and realized that she couldn't mentally be a mother but wanted them to go to a good home( birth mom is still heavily involved but fills more of an aunt role)

Named my their birth mom

Both Bi( had a crush on the same guy once it was a problem until they realize he wasn't interested in either of them)

she/her and they/them

Both have red hair and freckles( their aunt Max is delighted to have more redheads and the weird family all the upside down crew have formed over the years) but Charlotte has green eyes and James has brown

5'2" and 5'6"

both theater kids( once try to switch rules before realizing that only works with identical twins) and mischievous( yes they've been compared to the Weasley twins yes they were devastated when they found out what happened to Fred) Charlotte falls in love with Fiber Arts after helping their Middle School Drama teacher create the costumes for one of their plays. Mostly designs sew and clothing but and also knit sew and embroider. James is a writer. The twins used to put on little plays and he'd write the scripts but mostly sticks to poetry and prose as he gets older. James is an ideas guy where is Charlotte is more practical and helps him bring the ideas to life. James is more spontaneous where as Charlotte likes to stick with a routine. Charlotte style is rather eclectic and tends to shift around is mostly comprised of clothing she made or altered herself. James is one of those people that went full vintage day to day he looks like he stepped straight out of the 1920s

costume designer( Charlotte) Author/retail until his career takes off

I considered adding two more kids but I figured four was a big family while being a bit more manageable then six. However the absolutely do road trip like Steve was imagining. I could probably do a bit more to separate the twins but to avoid cliche I didn't want to make them complete opposites or exactly the same so I tried to balance the two.

Also none of them are straight because that's just how I roll is it statistically likely no do I care also no.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #future steddie #steddie kids #steddie dads #steddie parents #steve x eddie #autisic eddie munson #adhd eddie munson #dyslexic steve harrington #jewish eddie munson #eddie munson lives #eddie x steve

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everything-magic-sparkles · 5 months

Text

The State with the Black Stain

—————————————

A horror-mystery fic

~Warnings~

Mentions of violence, scopophobia, uncanny valley, true crime, sexual content

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Your alarm goes off at 6:30am. You really don’t want to go to work, though it’s all you have to look forward to for the day. That is, if you want to keep food on the table. Your job, a 9-5 at a VHS store in Milwaukee Wisconsin. You had been working there for a couple of years now. It didn’t pay much, but that doesn’t matter when you live alone.

It wasn’t that difficult of a job, either; Restock the shelves, work the register, know the genres of movies, and where to find them. Check in on time and clock out appropriately. There wasn’t much to hate about it, but you did hate how late you’d get out sometimes. You didn’t live too far away, but you didn’t live in the nicest part of your neighborhood, so being out late at night made you nervous.

A lot of times you wouldn’t be doing any work at all, so you’d read the newspaper. What else were you supposed to do? After a while of reading, you started to notice that the headlines all had the same focus: disappearances.

Was there any explanation for all of the disappearances? No. All that law enforcement knew was that 17 had gone missing so far without any indication of where they could’ve gone. You wondered how that could happen in such a small town. But, it can happen anywhere, right?

It was slightly disturbing to hear about all those disappearances and made your nightly trips back home even worse than they were before. Eventually, though, your mind wandered elsewhere and was able to forget about it.

That was, until a particular customer gave rise to the notion all over again. In the worst way possible.

“will that be all, sir? Just this film right here?”

“Yeah that’s it. I have a coupon for it Lemme get it.”

The man dug through his pockets as he looked for the coupon, “Oh, by the way, have you heard about the disappearances lately?”

Oh boy. Here we go.

“Y-yes I have. Why?”

“Well you remember that guy that died all those years ago? I can’t remember his name. All I know is that…” he leaned in closer to you, “People think he’s still alive. You know, the Milwaukee Monster.”

The name sounded familiar to you.

“Oh yeah- uh… W-wasn’t he a cannibal, too?”

“Mhm.” The man said, “He killed a bunch of black men around here… They took down the apartment building, but I don’t trust it. Mm-Mm. Not for a second. This state has a bad mark on it…”

You shut your eyes tightly remembering what happened 30 years ago. His face was still plastered in your memory. “Have a good day, sir…”

That memory was enough to set your paranoia into full swing. That man was one of the worst serial killers in American History. Sure, he was dead, but that didn’t mean that Milwaukee was over the tragedy.

Instead of trying to forget about everything, you decided to do some digging to jog your memory. You remembered having an old box full of old newspapers and magazines in your house. Eventually you found what you were looking for; an old newspaper with the headline: Cannibal-killer: Jeffrey Dahmer confessed to 17 murders.

The name made your stomach churn. Amidst your nausea, however, you made the shocking connection that the number of disappearances lately had directly matched up with the number of the monster’s victims;

17.

Just as you made the horrible realization that something wasn’t right, your radio began to play on its own.

‘Babe, I love you so.’

The radio sang as you stormed over to shut it off,

‘I want you to know, that I am gonna miss your love, the minute you walk out that door.’

“This isn’t fucking funny…”

‘So please don’t go-‘

You shut the radio off. The song name showed on the display, ‘Please don’t go, by: KC & The Sunshine Band.’

“Goddammit. How am I supposed to get any sleep now?” You thought, heading to bed. Surprisingly, you were able to fall asleep. Not without conflict from your mind, of course.

No one could’ve been playing tricks on you. You lived alone. And why would they? You were a young man that worked at a VHS store who wasted half their money on buying cigarettes. That’s about as generic as you can get. Hiding in plain sight.

Your last customer of the night walked up to the register.

“Just this, please.”

The man handed you a copy of the movie ‘The Exorcist III.’ You cocked a brow at the title as you scanned it, knowing how gruesome it was.

“That’ll be ten…”

Something caught your eye.

“T-ten ninety nine…”

Your eyes were glued to what appeared to be a man’s face, staring at you from behind one of the shelves. A white face.

“Is something wrong?” The customer asked.

“N-no I just… it’s nothing.”

When you were done scanning the movie’s barcode, you slipped it into a bag and handed it to the man, to which he left.

Something told you that you needed to get the hell out of that store. So, you did. You went straight home and didn’t look back.

‘What the hell even was that?’ You thought, ‘Maybe that bastard’s ghost is running around here still. I know what I saw wasn’t a fucking person.’

You lock your doors and windows out of paranoia and try to head to bed. That is, until your radio plays again. The same damn song as the night before.

Now you really know something is fucking with you. You get up to go shut the radio off,

“Alright, where are you, shithead? Get the fuck out of my house! You’re not welcome here!”

The radio plays again and you continue to shut it off every time it turns back on. At this point you were completely defeated and terrified, but you didn’t want to leave. Inside there was better than out on the street. You slid down the wall of your living room and covered your face, about to cry.

Between your fingers and your tear-blurred vision, you see him. The white face you saw earlier, standing in the doorway, his eyes peering down at you.

“Fuck!” You yell and cover your face, shutting your eyes quickly.

As you do so, you hear footsteps getting closer to you.

‘I’m so dead I’m so dead I’m so dead’ your thoughts ran amuck. After a while there wasn’t any response. So you uncovered your eyes.

Big mistake.

There he was, standing right in front of you. Jeffrey Dahmer. His ghost, rather. You wondered how he could look so real, despite being dead.

“Wh-what the fuck do you want?” You squeaked out.

The man grinned, a sharp-toothed smile stretching across his face, “You.”

To be continued…

#dahmer netflix #david dahmer dons lycra and tinted yellow lenses just like his serial killer brother jeffrey as he takes a bike ride #jeff dahmer #horror #jeffrey dahmer #x reader

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