#I commented something like this on youtube yesterday and I thought it was worth posting

[yoongisleftshoulder]

BTS Reacts: Biracial S/O Experiences Racism

A/N: Of course, something like this can be a touchy subject and I will take full responsibility if I write anything offensive or incorrectly. As I've said in previous pieces like this, you are welcome to call me out on any mistakes so I can learn and do better. I personally am not biracial nor have I experienced racism of the sort but my inbox is always open if you need support or someone to stand with you. Also, I apologize but I couldn't find credits for some of the gifs used. I take no credit for the making of them.

TW: General racism, bullying

JIN:

Jin couldn't believe it when you pulled up an antis hate themed blog focused around you. He knew there would be some heat once your relationship was revealed to the public but he never thought people would be low enough to create an entire blog to bully you and insult you just based off of your skin color. It almost blew his mind that someone would take the time to put you down so badly. Jin would gently take your phone out of your hand and close the page, setting the phone down and out of view.

"Don't pay attention to a word they're saying. They're not worth your time, you're perfect the way you are."

Jin made sure the blog and nasty racist comments thrown at you were forgotten quickly, reassuring you that they were meaningless and simply not true.

YOONGI:

Yoongi had been out with Jin picking up food for the two of you when you decided to watch a few video compilations on YouTube that some fans had created for your relationship with him. Most of them were cute and wholesome videos with nothing but positivity in the comment section and you found yourself smiling widely throughout your time reading them. However, on the last video you had chosen, the comments made your heart sink. You weren't sure why they were there all of the sudden but many users had written harsh racist insults towards you, some even going as far as writing out threats. You knew it was stupid and the words were empty and didn't really mean anything but you couldn't control the tears that were forming in your eyes, eventually beginning to spill down your cheeks. Just as you were at peak sobbing and second guessing yourself, wondering if Yoongi really loved you as much as he said, he walked in the door, food bags in hand. Immediately, when he saw you curled up on the couch crying, he dropped the bags and sat on the cushion adjacent to you. He started rubbing your arm, unsure whether or not doing anything further was going to upset you.

"Woah, what's wrong sweetheart?" Your boyfriend asked, his voice soft.

Between sniffles, you did your best to explain how so-called 'fans' were being incredibly racist towards you and saying Yoongi deserved someone of his own race.

Yoongi couldn't believe what he was hearing and was only able to muster out a quiet "What the fuck?" He was pissed to know you were upset and pissed that anyone could say such things to you.

"Don't listen to those assholes, they don't know you and they will NEVER know me. I love you, you're perfect the way you are. They're probably just jealous that there's nothing even mildly interesting about them. They mean nothing."

HOSEOK:

*Ping*

*Ping*

*Ping*

Your phone had been blowing up more than usual. Your boyfriend, Hoseok, was sitting next to you so you opted to check it, wondering who else would be sending you so many texts. Lit up on your screen were texts from your best friend, telling you not to listen to what people are saying on Twitter and that all of those people were wrong about you. Confusion washed over you as you opened the Twitter app to see what was going on. The first thing you saw was your relationship with Hobi on the trending list. Your heartbeat sped up as you tapped on the link to checkout the corresponding posts. As soon as it opened, you were met with post after post about the live you did with him yesterday, where you had revealed your face for the first time. There were comments saying how pretty you were and how sweet you seemed, of course, but among these comments were floods of hate speech. Every single negative comment had to do with the fact that you were biracial. You suddenly closed the app, tossing your phone to the side, startling Hoseok. He closed the book he had been reading in the chair across from you and asked you what was wrong, moving to sit aside you when he noticed tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. All you told him was to check Twitter. Taking out his own phone, he clicked on the trending HoseokxYN link and skimmed through the posts and comments. He very quickly put his phone back into his pocket, unable to read anymore racist words against you. Pulling you into a tight hug, he reassured you that he felt sorry for those people, telling you that they must feel so badly about themselves and have such low quality lives that they had to spew meaningless hate towards you. If anything, they were lower than you and were only doing it to feel better about themselves. Even though the remarks were towards you, it felt painful to read such things and he was overwhelmed by disappointment.

NAMJOON:

As you and Namjoon made your way through the intensely growing crowd inside of the airport, fans yelled and screamed various words of encouragement towards Namjoon. You loved to hear other people showering him with love and positivity, despite the craziness of the crowd itself. You were smiling widely while walking hand in hand with your boyfriend, listening to the fans, until you suddenly heard someone take a jab at the color of your skin. Namjoon heard the person too, stopping for a brief second to turn and glare at them. He shook his head as he turned back around, gripping your hand tighter, pulling it up to his face to lightly kiss your knuckles. Like a chain reaction, that one person being brave enough to say such things to you in front of him set off a wave of more racism. Namjoon began walking even faster, guiding you the whole way, wanting desperately to get you out of there.

"Those aren't my fans. If they were, they would never say such bullshit things to you."

JIMIN:

Jimin witnessing you beginning to cry after seeing racist comments saying you weren't worthy of being with him because you weren't Korean hurt his heart. Your laughter was his favorite sound in the world and he lived to see you smile. Seeing you so upset was painful and made tears prick his own eyes. You were so important to him and yet strangers were bringing you down with nonsense hate. Jimin made sure to pound it into your head that he wanted you and only you; if he wanted someone who was 100% Korean, that's who he would have chosen.

TAEHYUNG:

After a long chat, you and Taehyung decided to reveal your secret relationship to the public after having been together for over a year. Taehyung took the bold leap by posting a couple of cute, romantic photos from Valentine's day on his Instagram. Knowing that it would warrant a little bit of craziness, he did it late at night before the two of you went to bed, planning on checking on it in the morning.

That next morning, Taehyung had woken up before you. Rather than waking you up, he went into the kitchen, fixed himself up some breakfast, and got comfy on the couch with his phone, ready to checkout the reveal reactions. He found himself giggling at some of the comments, even feeling happy over some of the supportive ones he read. Not long after reading, though, he stumbled upon comments he wished he hadn't seen. Many racist insults and death threats filled the comment thread. They were targeting you because you were biracial, spewing hate and saying he deserved better than you, someone who was fully his own race. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"How could these people say things like this?" Taehyung whispered to himself, still trying to be careful about waking you up.

The thought of you waking up excited to read the reactions of army only to see your race being the main focus of the thread made him very upset. He pondered whether he should delete the photo or not, wanting to shield you from everything. After a while of thinking, he simply turned off the comments to the post.

When you finally awoke, the first thing you did was ask him about the public's reaction. He produced a white lie and said the staff recommended that he turn the comments off but allowed him to keep the photo up. Although you were disappointed, he would much rather have you thinking that's what happened, instead of being aware of the nasty racist comments that flooded the post.

JUNGKOOK:

The last thing Jungkook expected when you tagged along on a flight and exited the airport with him, navigating through the crowds of screaming fans, was to hear several death threats and racist remarks thrown around towards you. He gripped your hand tighter and tighter with each disgusting comment he heard, knowing he couldn't do anything in that very moment. He glanced at your face multiple times, checking if you were still mentally there, only to see that you had begun crying quite hard. Instantly, Jungkook removed his jacket and held it over you to cover your face as various people with their phones and cameras hounded you. When you were both sat safely inside of the car waiting for you guys, Jungkook pulled you in close, kissing the top of your head while you buried it into his chest.

"You know I don't think of those things, right? I don't care about your race, I love you for you. Don't listen to those people, they aren't real army."

#bts #bts reactions #bts reaction #jin #suga #jhope #rm #jimin #v #jungkook #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

[pixelpoppers]

It's been four months since I posted about not really playing games anymore and I thought it was time for an update.

(First, a quick refresher on the old post: I theorized that a big part of my enjoyment of video games came from them enabling me to focus my attention in a way that I normally find difficult, so once I started taking focus-enhancing nootropics this advantage went away and video games became much less appealing compared to other activities. Instead I started spending my free time doing personal data cleanup and related tasks.)

So, what have I been doing since then? A few things. I have been continuing with minor tasks on my personal projects when I can come up with good ones. They're mostly not the sort of data curation or "gardening" tasks I talked about last time because I've run out of those (though the good thing about the debacle with Sony announcing they'd close the PS3/Vita/PSP stores (before backpedaling) is that getting my Vita and PS3 libraries in order was a great few-days-long gardening task). Instead, I've mostly been making small improvements to my various web projects. For example, yesterday I added entries for "fun pain" and "perfectible" to the game design glossary on the main Pixel Poppers site, which had been low priority on my to-do list for quite a while. Maybe next I'll update the site's mobile layout to put the navigation stuff in a hamburger menu instead of at the bottom.

This stuff requires more thought than the gardening tasks, so it's less relaxing, and I'm having to figure out new ways to relax. Video games have slotted back into my life as one of several ways to relax but I still approach them very differently from before. I no longer look for "go places and do things" games or seek to feel like I am occupying a world. I want the experience to feel contained and not take up space in my brain when I'm not playing it. I want it to be something I can easily pick up for a bit and have it not matter whether I ever come back to it. I've found that what works best is low-context arcade-style experiences (racers, puzzlers, twin-stick shooters, rhythm games, etc.) or story games that can be completed in a single sitting (short visual novels or walking simulators like What Remains of Edith Finch or Wide Ocean Big Jacket). Games that are based on larger-scale progression, exploration, or worldbuilding (RPGs, 3D platformers, probably open world games - which used to be some of my favorites) don't do much for me anymore and I've bounced off a few of them in the past couple months.

So it's still the case that games are occupying less of my mental real estate than before and I have less to say about them. I might still decide to post more stuff here - I have an idea file with about fifty seeds for potential posts, though I don't know how many of them are actually worth developing (does anyone care about the weird variety of ways Senran Kagura has handled DLC over the years, for example).

But the truth is... I haven't gotten what I've wanted out of Pixel Poppers for years. This could be a much longer essay, and it's one I've tried to write a few times, but in short: Back in Pixel Poppers's "golden age" when I first started posting regularly in 2009-2010, I got a lot of comments and discussion on my posts and I felt like I was actually part of a great community. I mostly stopped posting in order to focus on my job and by the time I came back in 2018, the internet was a very different place. I got a couple of comments here and there (more on Tumblr than anywhere else) but I mostly felt like I was talking into a void, which was terrible for my motivation to work hard on quality articles. My impression is that the game analysis community has almost all moved to YouTube and if I want to be part of it again I have to switch to making videos and chasing YouTube's mysterious and fickle algorithm and I just don't. want. that.

Please understand: This is not a dig on my audience or intended to make anyone feel guilty. You don't owe me comments or anything else. If you're reading this at all, I am grateful and I love you! This is just about me facing the reality of what I'm looking for and what I'd need to do to get it in the current landscape. And admitting that the advantage that I thought Pixel Poppers had over other projects - an established audience - is actually much smaller than I was considering it to be.

So I'm also thinking about switching gears to a different writing project, one focused more on things that are at the front of my mind these days. Possibly just a general thoughts blog (which, admittedly, would sometimes be about video games). Possibly a blog about what I do for a living. Possibly making more small games (I'm pretty happy with how Detectivania turned out, after all). Or possibly reviewing all 800+ episodes and films in the Star Trek franchise. Maybe more than one of these things, bouncing around with an irregular schedule, and even slotting in occasional Pixel Poppers posts along the way. And I have to decide how connected I want these things to be - part of me wants people who enjoy some of my projects to easily be able to find the rest, but I also like that right now I can have my identity cleanly compartmentalized and only attach my real name to some things (and thus it's harder for someone who dislikes my take on Dark Souls to doxx me and dig up my bad/outdated takes on other more widely-impactful things to fuel a harassment campaign or whatever).

That's where things stand today. I'm not dead. I'm still gaming a little. I may make small posts here every once in a while but I don't expect to invest a lot of time or effort into it in the near- to mid-term future. And I may or may not announce other projects publicly here. If you have feelings or questions about any of this, feel free to shoot me a DM or an email or whatever.

Thanks for reading.

#video gaming #neurodivergencies #meta #l-theanine

[milgrammer]

[Theory] First Trial: Haruka

Introduction:

Disclaimer: this post will mention sensitive themes such as homicide, animal abuse, and developmental disorders. Discretion while reading is advised. Furthermore, we are not health professionals. Any diagnoses made within this theory are purely based on independent research. 

So, I posted the first draft of this on the MV under the username ‘Mai x’, but the character limit for a single YouTube comment is stingy—even had to split it into two. This theory has progressed since. Honestly, there’s no point in reading the original. 

In Short:

This theory is founded on the three arguments as follows, strongest to weakest:

Haruka has some degree of autism

Haruka has a brother, likely a twin

The MV retells his memories in chronological order

Haruka and his twin brother grew up with equal amounts of affection until it became apparent that Haruka was mentally developing slower in comparison. Consequently, his mother (figure) engaged with his brother more by going outside with him etc, while Haruka was left with the assistance dog. For this reason, he viewed his brother as competition for attention and began to bully him. 

Later, Haruka fell in love with a girl, possibly named Mirai, but she couldn’t reciprocate those feelings since she favoured his brother, which drove Haruka to strangle her. The authorities caught him in the act, and she survived. His mother (figure), concerned about Haruka’s behaviour, tries to interact with him more, but he is dismissive and believes that she does not believe his explanations. However, still craving her attention and mistaking her frantic words for praise, he continues to hurt other children.

His brother played with Haruka’s assistance dog. Upset, Haruka lured it away. His brother went into the woods looking for it and followed the pawprints. He saw Haruka beating the dog with a stone and tried to stop him, resulting in his hands being dirtied with blood as well. The authorities discover Haruka again, and this time, their mother (figure) had to give them up.

Completely distraught, Haruka blames his brother and drowns him. He is once again discovered by the authorities, but now finally realises that he had been misunderstanding everyone his whole life, and admits that he was the one, who was truly mistaken. 

IN-DEPTH UNDER THE CUT

Some Clarifications:

Heads up. If all three statements are falsified, we’ll be back at square one.

There’s strong evidence to suggest Haruka does have autism as he exhibits many common signs, such as lack of eye contact, having little danger awareness, not understanding social cues, deficits in language comprehension, and so on. The list could continue, but I encourage you to look them up yourself. In my opinion, he exhibits far too many for it to be considered coincidental.

I’m more of a linguistic descriptivist, so when I describe certain phrases as “unnatural/odd” or “expected”, a prescriptivist would consider them to be grammatically “incorrect” or “correct” respectively. 

The existence of his twin is based on the young boy in the MV, and how closely he resembles Haruka. A common interpretation is that this boy is Haruka’s younger self, but there’s more evidence to suggest the former, which will be explained later.

Assuming that the MV retells Haruka’s memories in chronological order is admittedly just a leap of faith. However, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not as crucial. 

Compared to the English version, the original Japanese lyrics are far more ambiguous and have more possible interpretations. It’s partly due to the Japanese language itself, and partly due to Haruka’s grammar. In my opinion, the translated lyrics portray Haruka’s mindset more clearly, so referenced both in this write-up. Any re-translations aren’t meant to discredit the original but should serve as alternatives. After all, I can only imagine how much fun the official translator had with these lyrics.

I’ll be referring to the following, so please acquaint yourself with them:

Weakness MV

Undercover MV

Haruka’s drama CD

Haruka’s profile

Es’ drama CD

Ambiguity/Uncertainties:

It’s safe to assume the lady in the MV is Haruka’s mother, adoptive parent or some sort of guardian, however, there’s not enough evidence to confirm which she is—the difference in hair colours is throwing me off. The line  『ねえどうして 変わらないでよ』 (Hey, tell me why. Please don’t change) has two possible interpretations. The first is that his mother’s attitude towards him had changed, and the second is that his aunt or another woman resembling his mother had adopted them, but Haruka thought that they were the same person. This could also explain why no father figure was shown. For now, she’ll be referred to as the “mother (figure)”. 

We can’t determine whether his brother is autistic as well, albeit high-functioning, or if he’s neurotypical since studies show that if one twin has autism, the other is likely to have it as well¹. The latter is more likely, but what could’ve happened is that Haruka was diagnosed and they assumed his brother also had it. The scene, where his brother plays with the assistance dog, is bugging me.

The number of ‘sins’ Haruka has committed is unknown. The minimum is 3, the girl, the dog, and his brother, while the maximum is indefinite. The line  『昨日をくり返して あきらめって大事だけど』 (I repeated yesterday, though it’s important to give up) could imply that he had hurt several of his peers in a similar manner, and consequently lost hope in establishing relationships with others. He also appears to have morphology and syntax deficits judging from the grammar used there and throughout the song.

Poster Analysis: 

This tweet was posted by Mana Inoue on the visual creation team and showcases the main symbols used in the MV. 

Bear in mind, botany isn’t my strong point. In the comment, I claimed they were yellow carnations, which would represent disappointment and rejection. However, they might be a breed of yellow roses, symbolising jealousy. The more I look at them, the more confused I become. It’s not something worth lamenting over though. Both meanings fit with his storyline.

I think the woman with two angels is meant to be a homage to the various depictions of “Madonna and Child with Two Angels”. The ‘Madonna’ represents the mother figure, while the two angels represent Haruka and his brother, vying for her attention.

The blue-green gradient of the poster frame and the dressing table mirror at the centre of the poster reflecting an underwater image both tie in with how he drowned his brother.

The red moon in the background is considered to be a bad omen in fiction, especially when referred to as a ‘blood moon’, but since Haruka is seen to constantly be waking up from nightmares, we can use Freud’s dream interpretations. In this case, the moon is a yonic symbol and would represent Haruka’s desire for maternal affection. 

MV Analysis:

Things to point out beforehand:

Haruka is an unreliable narrator. His lyrics, especially, shouldn’t be taken at face value.

The title 『弱肉共食』 is an alteration of the idiom  『弱肉強食』 which translated literally would be ‘The weak are meat, the strong eat’ otherwise known as ‘the law of the jungle’ or ‘survival of the fittest’ in English. However, 『強』 is replaced with 『共』 which represents ‘sameness’, so the go-to translation would be ‘weak meat cannibalism’, but to preserve the nature of the idiom, I’d view it as ‘the weak are meat, eat your kin’. 

The original idiom encompasses the notion of ‘competition’, which arises from scarcity. So, why and for what is Haruka competing? Slightly obvious, but it’s attention/affection. He likely viewed it as some sort of rival good i.e. the more the mother figure paid attention to his brother, the less attention Haruka would receive for himself, therefore no brother would equal more attention. Sounds grim, but siblicide isn’t uncommon in the animal kingdom, especially if resources are sparse. This also hints at how Haruka likely had a twin, rather than a younger or older brother since the original would’ve fit just as well were it the latter.

The Japanese subtitles often spell words with hiragana and katakana, where kanji characters would more likely be used. Haruka is around high school age, but, judging from his kanji usage, his comprehension is estimated to be at a sixth grader’s level max. The kanji  『降』 in 『下降』 (kakou/descend) is taught in 6th grade, and the others he uses are taught even earlier. Despite words such as 『僕』 (boku/I) and 『犠牲』 (gisei/sacrifice) being repeated, they’re still written in hiragana. This is probably because they’re normally taught at secondary education, which explains why middle-school level kanji such as 『違』 in 『間違う』 (machigau/to misunderstand) and 『繰』 in 『繰り返す』 (kurikaesu/to repeat) are written with hiragana instead. The implication is that Haruka has learning difficulties—another feature associated with autism.

0:00  It begins with Haruka at a dressing table, implied to be his mother (figure)’s from the cosmetics. The necklace he wears likely belonged to her. Notice its green centre and purple outer layer—those colours are also used for the eyes seen within the MV. This could symbolise his mother (figure) watching over him, and since he wished for her attention, it’d explain why he continues to wear it.

0:05 The reflection in the mirror flickers between Haruka and his twin. This might symbolise how Haruka fears his twin might replace him and highlights their resemblance to one another. The scene transitions to Haruka sinking in a body of water. This water motif suggests that drowning his brother was Haruka’s main sin.

0:20 The drawing of a lady and a boy represents his mother (figure) and his twin—the hand of the boy is outstretched, touching Haruka’s, which implies they were a family of three. He asks why his mother (figure) is distancing herself and if it’s his fault. What might’ve happened was his mother (figure) spent more time outside with his brother, and left Haruka indoors with the assistance dog. His jealousy could’ve clouded his judgment though, and she might’ve spent equal time with them in reality. 

Haruka is in the shadows, avoiding the lights, which could imply that he was never in the ‘spotlight’. The assistance dog wears a harness and appears to be a mix between a Labrador and a German Shepherd—both common breeds used for this line of work. There might’ve been more than one dog and Haruka’s memories fused them together. 

0:29 The boy smiles brightly. Some claim that this boy is a representation of Haruka’s younger self, but I’m doubtful. His resentful lyrics are at a dissonance with the boy’s cheerfulness. Plus, a major sign of autism in children is ‘not reciprocating a smile’, so it’s unlikely for the little boy to be Haruka. I understand that autism is complicated and surfaces differently according to the individual, but Haruka is fictional, and it’d be logical to assume that his character was written with some of the major signs in mind. Not to mention, the only time we see 17-year-old Haruka smile is at the end of the MV after he’s killed his brother.

0:36 The fire-breathing dragon, according to dream interpretations, symbolises being emotionally overwhelmed. Also, the lyrics ‘the words I tried to say were: “you’re unfair/cowardly”’ are probably directed towards his brother. The implication is that Haruka was jealous of his brother, believing that he ‘made himself look weaker’ to receive more attention, but couldn’t express this through words since his language competence was so low. Consequently, Haruka used rudimentary methods to express himself e.g. physical aggression and crying.

In this scene, Haruka pulls his brother’s shirt collar and his frightened expression as he hesitantly looks up at Haruka implies that he already knows what the repercussions for clinging to their mother (figure) are.

0:39 There’s a monster drawing behind Haruka; this represents Haruka’s self-perception and/or his brother’s perception of him, emphasising how he’s viewed as inhuman. 

『ダメ』 [dame] is messy to translate without context. The Japanese subtitles read 『ダメだね』 [dame da ne] but I believe Haruka had misheard his mother (figure) and what she actually said was 『ダメダメ』 [dame dame]. Only one phoneme off. Even though the first could be translated as “You’re hopeless” when used to describe a person, it’s probably a misunderstanding on Haruka’s behalf. In certain contexts or when repeated like this, 『ダメ』 is used to ask someone to stop—a lighter version of 『止めて』 (yamete/stop) and arguably more common. So, his mother (figure) tried telling Haruka to stop bullying his brother i.e. grabbing him and pushing him into puddles etc, but Haruka thought she was insulting him instead. In short, he struggles to understand the contextual use of words.

0:42 “If only I could do what anyone else could do” likely refers to social interactions and the ability to communicate smoothly.

『違った筈の未来は不平等に恋をした』 are the lyrics in a ‘standardised’ form. Some meaning is lost when it’s translated as “The right future unfairly chose the wrong me”, but the translator probably chose it to preserve its ambiguity. A closer version would be “The future, which was supposed to be different, fell in love unequally.” However,  『未来』  (mirai/future) can also be a girl’s name, so it could be translated as “Mirai, who was supposed to be different, fell in love unequally.” Even if that isn’t her name, the gist remains the same—she preferred Haruka’s brother. Some have suggested that she’s their sister, but  『恋をする』 has clear romantic connotations. Doesn’t fully discredit it, but it’s unlikely. Her “falling in love unequally” could be another misunderstanding made by Haruka, which parallels how he viewed the treatment from his mother (figure).

The scene, set as the thumbnail as of now, where Haruka is covering his ears and closing his eyes, depicts him suffering from sensory overload since autism is linked to light and sound sensitivity², and this event takes place at presumably some sort of festival or theme park, judging by the fireworks. He probably still enjoyed the outing since candyfloss is one of his favourite foods.

0:56 His brother steals his girl. What a madlad. As a result, Haruka screams and cries—one of the rudimentary forms of self-expression. This time Haruka uses the verb  『愛する』 [aisuru] a more versatile way of saying ‘to love’, which implies how he craves love in any form. 

What was Haruka denying? Many things probably. He thought that his brother was the root problem, everyone was actively against him and he wasn’t at fault, etc. 

It's important to note that Haruka has a habit of forming sentences using: noun + 『をする』  or  『をしていた』  in the MV, which is the past progressive. It's sometimes common e.g.  『否定をしていた』  (I was in denial) but other times it's unnatural, such as  『悲鳴をしていた』. 『悲鳴を上げていた』 (himei wo agete ita/I was screaming)  is the expected form. It can use 『が』 instead of the 『を』 depending on the context, but it takes 『上げる』 not 『する』. 

It's similar to saying "I was doing a scream" You can understand what the speaker is trying to say, but the wording is odd. More of these sentence structures are present later on. 

The faces of his mother (figure) and the little girl are scribbled out probably because he can’t remember them or what expressions they made. A simplistic explanation, but ASD is linked with having lower development in face processing³, so it’s likely. 

1:04 Haruka is shown shrouded in those yellow flowers. How aesthetic. (Snapchat filter idea?) He then extends his arm towards the girl, but she’s out of his reach—metaphorically. What did Haruka want to confirm? His previously mentioned beliefs. This is why he seems to develop some self-awareness at the end. With his brother out of the picture, there’d be no one else to blame.

1:07 The chorus clarifies that his motive was to gain attention. The  『あっはっは』 is laughter, but I don’t think it’s out of malice. Those with autism often exhibit expressions, which would be considered inappropriate in given social scenarios e.g. laughing at a funeral. I believe that Haruka was frustrated and emotionally overwhelmed, so when he laughed, he was actually trying to weep as he did at the end of the MV.

During the scene where the girl’s shadow is between his hands, no scribbles are present, which represent blood/death. This hints at how he hurt the girl, perhaps by strangulation, but didn’t kill her. Judging from his expression and the round light, probably from a flashlight, he was caught by either a stranger or the authorities. 

Some have suggested that he killed the girl as well, however it’d make more logical sense for the severity of repercussions to reflect the severity of his ‘sins’. Why would the authorities later separate his mother (figure) from him after the dog incident, but pardon him for homicide? Things wouldn’t add up. 

1:30 A lack of cooperative behaviour, i.e. not sharing or taking turns, is associated with ASD⁴, so if his mother (figure) knew, she might’ve been encouraging the two to share. Another possibility is that Haruka might’ve been diagnosed with anxiety or depression, while his autism went undetected. That scene really bugs me. Can you tell? Either way, Haruka isn’t too happy about it. 

His repetition of “I’m fine” implies that he’s brushing off his mother (figure), who’s trying to find out why he’s behaving this way. He misunderstands the word  『外れ』 [hazure]. Another messy word to translate out of context. It roughly means “to miss/be off”. Sometimes you say it when someone answers a question incorrectly or if someone hasn’t gotten the point. To express disappointment, you’d usually say 『期待外れ』 (kitai hazure/not living up to one’s expectations), but the fact that he excluded 『期待』 (kitai/expectation) implies that he’s misunderstood someone again.

His mother (figure) looks at him disagreeably when he tries to explain his viewpoint. This is probably because he views the entire world as being against him.

Haruka lures the dog into the woods and his brother searches for it—having his brother discover the corpse might’ve been his plan as well

He mistakes 『狂ってる』 [kurutteru] for praise. This can mean “You’re crazy”, but there’s neither a subject nor topic marker present, so she could just be saying “this (situation) is insane”. However, this misunderstanding is probably why he continues committing ‘sins’. He’ll take whatever attention he can get, he doesn’t understand the reality of his actions and believes that doing these deeds will make him more ‘human’. 

2:00 『犠牲をしていた』is another instance of the aforementioned sentence structuring.『犠牲にしてた』 with the 『に』 particle would be the expected form, which could mean “I was making a sacrifice”. However, I suspect he was trying to say something like 『僕のことを犠牲にしていた』 or 『僕が犠牲になった』 roughly translating to “you did it at my expense” or “it was at my expense”. That would explain why the official translation was “I became a victim”.

“My loneliness was desired” could entail that he wanted to either be an only child or he purposely pushed people away—might explain why he was trying to brush off his mother earlier. It could also be interpreted as “You desired my loneliness”. In that sense, Haruka would be accusing his brother of trying to isolate him from other people. 

2:10『下降をしていた』 is translated as ‘I was falling’, but since the subject is omitted, he could also be referring to a multitude of things, such as his well-being, grades, reputation, etc. Again, 『下降していた』 would be the expected form and the verb itself is rarely seen outside of technical reports.『下げる』 (sageru/to lower) or 『落ちる』 (ochiru/to fall) would be more commonly used in the vernacular. I can’t provide a direct equivalent since there’s too little context, but I suspect that Haruka heard/read the word somewhere and assumed it to generally mean ‘to go downwards’. 

He goes on to state that his “starting position in life was wrong”; it implies how he’s realised that his way of thinking was innately different from others. We then see the circular light shining over his hands, signifying that the authorities have found out once again. 

2:30 Some trippy visuals. The background is a collage of his afterimages. The Haruka-like silhouette might represent how his brother would’ve grown up by this time had Haruka not killed him.

2:40 This is likely the last memory Haruka had of his mother (figure) and an odd one at that—she stands alone, her posture stiff, the line of suspended lamps being the only other item of interest. I think it depicts her being taken to court. Law isn’t my speciality, but the scene composition does resemble the typical layout of a Japanese courtroom. With the mother (figure) at the witness stand, the lamps could either represent the judicial panel or the prosecution/defence. She might’ve been arrested under the suspicion of child abuse since the various incidents of Haruka’s aggression could be regarded as warning signs. Also, if Haruka’s recounts aligned with his lyrics, it wouldn’t aid her case.

Were the authorities instead concerned about Haruka himself, he would’ve been classified as a juvenile. By this time, I suspect his age to be around 5 to 10. Since the Penal Code of Japan provides that the acts committed by those under 14 aren’t punishable, they probably referred the twins to a correctional facility. In this case, their resemblance and/or the dirtying of his brother’s hands likely played a role since Haruka was separated from his mother, but not him. That wouldn’t be possible if Haruka was admitted alone.

In either scenario, their case would’ve been dealt with in a family court. It’s unclear whether she was separated from them during an investigation or because they’d already taken protective measures, but, either way, this was the probably last time they saw her.

2:45 Haruka is probably referring to his mother (figure) at this point in the MV and wonders where she is. After the incident with the dog, she likely had to relinquish her parental responsibility/guardianship. We no longer see those green-purple eyes after she leaves, which could symbolise how she’s no longer there to watch over him. It’s interesting how Haruka cries from his right eye, while the silhouette among the afterimages cries from its left. I think it’s hinting at how the silhouette is not Haruka, but his brother. This may also imply that when they were both alive, they could’ve been mistaken for one another, which could link to the last line of the song, “it was me”. 

2:52 In a final attempt to get his mother back or to ‘punish’ his brother, which he thought of as the wrongdoer, Haruka drowns him. His lifeless body, indicated by the scribbles, is soaked and Haruka cries atop of him, realising that his brother wasn’t the problem. From Es’ “Undercover” we can see Haruka pushing his brother, represented by Es, into the water, and his brother gasping for air. 

3:28 At the end of the MV, we see the same light, implying that the authorities discovered him once again. Judging by his expression, Haruka finally understands that he was the one at fault. His speech in the background is a repetition of the lyrics without the “ahaha”. From how he speaks, I think the lines 『誰か気づいてよ』 and 『間違っていたのは僕だった』 should instead be treated as a run-on rather than end-stops. And if that’s the case, his spoken lines may be translated as follows: “Please notice me. Someone, please notice that I was the one who was wrong. Yeah, it was me.” It hints at how he not only wants his existence acknowledged, but he also wants someone to understand that his way of thinking is dissimilar to others and especially was during that period. Those last words “yes, it was me” alongside his second file 『申し訳ないなと思っています』 (It’s inexcusable/I feel bad about it) heavily imply that he now understands the reality of his actions and feels remorse.

Drama CD Analysis: 

Key points to note:

Haruka fails to understand the complex constructions Es uses at the beginning and struggles to form them as well. Es notices this and uses easier, more straight-forward sentences later in the interview

He stutters and pauses frequently

He fails to recognise the different meanings of homonyms, in this case, 『起きる』 (to happen/wake up)

He uses 『ごめんなさい』 [gomennasai] when 『すみません』 [sumimasen] would be more contextually appropriate. Both can be translated as ‘sorry’, but the former is far heavier, similar to ‘please forgive me’, whereas the latter is lighter, equivalent to ‘excuse me’ or ‘my bad’. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the contextual difference

Haruka puts heavy emphasis on ‘speaking’. This could suggest that he received speech therapy at some sort of psychiatric institution or rehabilitation centre judging from his clothes. Furthermore, he might’ve enjoyed it or he feels at ease when talking to others since he can finally be ‘understood’

More than other prisoners, he seems attached to Yuno and Mahiru, both being young women with warm demeanours. He eagerly mentions them to Es and when he lists the prisoners he often talks to, he immediately states their names again and leaves pause before mentioning others. He likely enjoys female attention because of his desire for maternal affection. 

He’s afraid of ‘adults’ like Kazui and Shido. It’s unclear if it’s adults in general or specifically adult men, which would make more sense as there’s no father figure present in the MV

He’s afraid of Amane and claims that children her age evoke bad memories. He also seems to be fiddling his hands during that topic. Probably a coping mechanism. He likely committed all of his sins at an age even younger than hers.

He’s afraid of Kotoko, but honestly who isn’t? It’s strange how Haruka gets along with Futa since Kotoko and Futa both have ‘harsh’ personalities. She might remind him of his mother (figure)

Es comments on how Haruka appears to have a lack of fear and has unnatural responses to given situations e.g. smiling when being interrogated

Haruka has a fear of abandonment, claiming if others were to find out about his wrongdoings, he'd be ‘thrown away’

Extras to note:

His type is AB, associated with being ‘dual-natured’. It highlights how he fluctuates between being weak/reserved and having aggressive outbursts

His horoscope is cancer, a water sign. Links in with how his brother was killed

『遥』 His name is written with the kanji meaning ‘far off’ and ‘distant’

In his profile, Haruka says 『僕は人も殺しています』. Interesting how he attached the 『も』 particle to 『人』 (hito/person) rather than 『僕』 (boku/I). Had he attached it to the latter, it would’ve given the impression that he ‘killed someone just like everybody else in the prison’, however, his usage implies that he ‘killed a person as well as something else’. You can work it out, can’t you?

Haruka likely suffers from perpetration-induced traumatic stress (PITS) or perpertator trauma for short. He’s shown to have various PTSD symptoms; for example, nightmares (shown by how he constantly wakes up with a frightened expression on his face in the MV), flashbacks and physical sensations a result of them (both implied in the drama CD). Haruka also seemingly tries to avoid remembering his actions or talking about them, which is another sign of PTSD. We know he dislikes young children since they bring back “bad memories”, so the same likely goes for animals as well. Some sufferers of perpetrator trauma may have nightmares in which they act out the events as the victim rather than the offender. This isn’t as concrete since Haruka and his brother might just look similar, but the boy in the MV could be Haruka in his younger form re-enacting as him. The corpse in the final scene is in the outline of a young boy, but we can’t see his features. Haruka might’ve also forgotten what his brother looked like.

Judgment/Conclusion:

In the future, I’ll probably never be this insistent again, but in Haruka’s case, I’d highly recommend voting “forgive”. I didn’t draw that conclusion out of bias or sympathy; it’s a strategic move. The next set of MVs are based on this trial’s judgment and Jackalope also mentioned in Es’ drama CD (paraphrased): “open up his heart and you’ll hear lots from him”. Therefore, choosing “don't forgive” would likely be to our detriment as the opposite may happen, i.e. he’ll become more reserved or try to suppress his memories even further.

Other than that, there are other valid reasons to vote him as forgivable, e.g. his age, his mental state, his remorse, etc. I suspect some will vote him as unforgivable solely because of the dog incident. After all, the death of an animal tends to evoke a stronger reaction than homicide in fiction... It’s just a hunch.

References:

Tick, B., Bolton, P., Happé, F., Rutter, M. and Rijsdijk, F., 2015. Heritability of autism spectrum disorders: a meta-analysis of twin studies. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 57(5), pp.585-595.

Colman, R., Frankel, F., Ritvo, E. and Freeman, B., 1976. The effects of fluorescent and incandescent illumination upon repetitive behaviours in autistic children. Journal of Autism and Childhood Schizophrenia, 6(2), pp.157-162.

Dawson, G., Webb, S. and McPartland, J., 2005. Understanding the Nature of Face Processing Impairment in Autism: Insights From Behavioral and Electrophysiological Studies. Developmental Neuropsychology, 27(3), pp.403-424.

Centres for Disease Control and Prevention. 2020. Signs & Symptoms | Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) | NCBDDD | CDC. [online] Available at: <https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/autism/signs.html

#I've replayed the song so many times that I've forgotten how lovely it actually sounds #might buy that lap pillow off Yuno now #haruka sakurai #haruka #milgram #ミルグラム考察 #ミルグラム #deco*27 #theory #弱肉共食 #桜井 遙

[ubemango]

commission 4: slow burn/best friends/college au w/  jin

(+or: we’re best friends and you’re literally So Great and i suck at knowing what i want but anyway i’m starting to think i like you ??????? au)

note 1: For my very very sweet and understanding friend @yeuj​ who helped me out when I needed it most .... I hope you enjoy 🥺🥺💕!!!!!! And thank you to Micah + Clove for helping me with my questions—thank you for your thoughtfulness, insight, and love!!!!! 🌷🌷🌷

note 2: I tried to make ramen-making as unboring as possible but it really is just....water and spice. If you’re confused about eating ramen at convenience stores please search that up on Youtube, I’ve exhausted my link resource skills (except for when I want you to listen to songs.) Also, the songs I mention are titanic/the end by cehryl and Subside by Eloise. I actually listened to Sweet Night on repeat while writing this so if u wanna listen to that... ;_;

note 3: everything about this story is in medias res. I realized I had no proper beginning or conclusion and I didn’t wanna change the flow of the story by concretely adding one or the other... so if the story feels incomplete/fragmented then please understand that this was a conscious and intentional decision done on my part :,) It’s slow burn!!!! I Love you ha ha!!

(i)

The library is open twenty four hours. The convenience store in the student centre is not.

“Please use your car,” you assert.

Seokjin huffs. “Then pay for my gas.”

It’s an empty threat. He’s got no business driving hard bargains when he has capital in the form of a rich CEO dad. He ignores your glaring, calmly closing his laptop, shoving it into his bag. Closing up shop after a derivative crisis you’d called him up for because he lives on campus, plus he never sleeps early. You appreciate that he gives into you so easily.

“Fine.”

So you go, searching for a convenience store that has those instant noodles you suddenly came up with a craving for this late at night. Seokjin’s used to it by now. You get things done when you want to, even if it means making a home of the pillowy chairs in the library you’d claimed for studying purposes.

The mathematical theory of chaos. You don’t want to think about it, and you click your seatbelt with a yell, throw your bag in the backseat with as much strength your anger allows for. “I hate school!”

“Please don’t scream in the car.”

“I hate it!”

Seokjin slots the key in. “Can you look up where the convenience store is?”

He tosses you his phone to unlock. You jab at the screen with more grumbling and colourful cursing, pulling up whatever Google Maps says is the nearest store open.

“Plug in the AUX cord,” Seokjin urges next. He merges into traffic, which is really only one car and the late night bus. A quiet night for your suffering.

“Can I play my—“

“Nope.” You sneer. Tapping open his playlists, you pass under orange lamp post after orange lamp post and scroll in silence before Seokjin groans. “I made a new playlist, pick that one.”

“What’s it called?”

You can see that he’s stiffened up. You don’t comment. “The one with the three heart emojis.”

Simple enough. You don’t care to sift through the songs, and the first one plays with one more indulgent tap of the screen.

Why don’t you tell her? I think you should. You know how you’re feeling, you can’t fight the truth…

Google interrupts the soft voice with the indication of the next right. Seokjin eases on the gas pedal. You watch him nod his head to the softness of the stereo. “I can’t pay for your gas.”

“I know you can’t.”

“I can pay for your ramen,” you suggest. Seokjin makes a quiet noise, like he’s amused by your generosity, or maybe he just thinks you’re dumb. You think it’s the latter.

“I don’t want you to pay for my ramen.”

“Then what do you want?”

The lamp post light striking Seokjin’s face gives way to the harsh red of the stoplight. In the stillness, he sends you a hard look. It makes you feel weirdly vulnerable, like he’s stripped you bare.

To make things worse, Seokjin says:

“Nothing you don’t want to give me.”

He doesn’t heed your confusion because he presses on the gas, looks straight ahead. You do too, and you try not to contemplate the cool brevity of his attention you suddenly want back. You push your uncertainty aside.

(He has a handsome face, you think.)

Seokjin interrupts, “So why’d you wait till now to study?”

“You know me.” Procrastination. The complete and utter mistake of underestimating the allotted time needed to get a successful grasp of concepts for your midterm. In not so convoluted terms, this class sucks ass.

“Yeah but that was—a lot of notes.”

It was. You probably pushed five weeks of material in the span of three hours. You can feel the very tips of your nervous system frying up as you pass through gas station-lit intersections. But there’s a real answer to his question, and you have the intense need to curl in on yourself in this leather seat.

“Well I would have started yesterday, but I was busy,” you counter.

“With what?”

“So you know Hyukjae from Psych?”

Seokjin pauses to listen to Google’s instructions, and immediately makes a left onto another main intersection. “Sure.”

“We went out yesterday,” you admit.

He hums a tight sound, tapping on the wheel. “Hm. How’d it go?”

It wasn’t bad. You shared butter tarts and laughed at his anecdotes and Hyukjae-from-Psych paid for your Uber home. He gave you a very weak hug before you slipped into the car. It was in that seat you’d decided you wouldn’t be sending him an I had fun! text that night.

“It was okay. Like, nice to me and stuff. But nothing…”

“…Worth revisiting.”

“Sure,” you mimic, and you wonder why he’s right.

“The guy’s okay,” he says. Almost like it’s with relief. “It’s—not to sound rude, but. Uh. I think it’s, uh—good. That you weren’t… interested.”

You think he’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Why?”

“Can’t trust guys with bad handshakes.” Seokjin chances a glance at you, and laughs at the confused scrunch of your eyebrows. “I met him during that networking conference in third year. Limp-wristed me. Like a chump.”

“Ew.” You can’t say he’s wrong. That hug Hyukjae gave you really was weak. The dude has noodles for arms. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. Wasn’t really my type.”

“Hm,” is all Seokjin comes up with. You watch him pass right through the turn Google tells him to take. “Oh shit. Sorry. I’m just. Thinking. About… limp… men.”

You snort. “What?”

“Like a man. A limp man. Hyukjae. Not me,” he clarifies fast—proudly— “just. Anyway! Back to you saying what your type was.”

“I wasn’t,” you accuse.

“Yeah well now I’m asking because I don’t wanna think about limp men. Your type, please.”

He sounds weirdly inquisitive. Demanding, almost. You chalk it up to the near-delirium of being awake past 1AM.

“I—don’t know,” you start. Somehow you feel like you’re messing something up. “He was kind, I like… kind. And soft. Sweet. You know Kim Taehyung? From Neuro? Like, almost big shoulders but not really. I like big shoulders. Yeah. Guys like Kim Taehyung-ish.”

Seokjin just hums again. There’s another song playing, and you don’t know how many you’ve rotated through in this playlist. You didn’t think it’d take this long to get to the store.

Google says it’s just two minutes away now. Seokjin says, “Cool,” and then sings along to the stereo.

You got me losing sleep over you… I usually sit still but now I can’t help but move… When I see you, I don’t know what to do…

(ii)

“Spicy or not spicy?”

“Whatever keeps my stomach lining intact,” Seokjin says.

You don’t say anything more and grab two of whatever ramen packaging isn’t scarily red. The convenience store is void of any customers, and the cashier rings you up with a very sour face for interrupting the show he’s got playing on his phone. His face shrivels up even more because all you can pay with is coins. Seokjin laughs behind you when you apologize for clattering the dimes too harshly on the counter.

“Enjoy,” the cashier announces, and he doesn’t mean it one bit.

The hot water machine at the back is a very intimidating thing next to the tiny display of cookies.  Too many buttons and knobs you don’t understand, so Seokjin takes on the chivalric role and prepares everything for you. He rips the plastic open with gentle hands. Dumps the powder with too much conviction.

You both watch the water stream hot into the noodles. “Do you like macadamia nuts in your cookies?”

“I guess,” you say.

“Wanna split a cookie?” He hands you chopsticks to stir the ramen with, gestures at the cookie display with a jut of his chin.

“Are you paying?”

“Can you imagine if I made you pay after I asked to split,” Seokjin spits at you. “Yes I’m paying.”

“Then I want chocolate chip.”

He freezes, then jabs smartly at his noodles for a tense ten seconds.

“You make me mad,” he finally answers. “Should we eat in the car?”

“The bowl is too hot to hold.”

The counter at the window it is. You’re sad that you didn’t buy pickled radish, but your coin purse has weeped all its coinage out. Seokjin leaves you as Noodle Guard, going off to pay for that bonus cookie with a crumpled five. In the next second you contemplate the evaporation of ramen soup, the cookie is duly dumped right next to you, and Seokjin takes a huge bite of what still appears to be extremely hot noodles.

He promptly chokes, and makes sputtering noises.

“Holy shit,” Seokjin cries.

You take a much, much slower bite. “You’ll be fine.”

“I thought I could be cool for you,” he cries some more.

“You don’t need to be cool for me. Who eats ramen in a cool way?”

Seokjin nods his approval, that tear of theatrics sliding down his cheekbone. He eats carefully. A noisy car roils on outside, and passes quickly outside your periphery.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you remember to say.

“I love standing at counters and eating things hot,” Seokjin retorts. He dodges the fist you aim at his abdomen with swift ease. “It’s no problem.”

“I—“ You don’t really know why but you need to talk. “You know—you’re really, um, kind.”

Foolery. Absolute foolery that sentence was, and the cashier probably heard that foolery, and Seokjin definitely heard that absolute foolery, and he’s laughing. Like really laughing, caught with the noodles dangling from in-between his teeth. That’s all you had to say? The guy drove you out to get cup noodles out of his own volition. That’s kindness maxed out, and he deserves better than you fumbling between your teeth. Your nerves have fried up so bad, you guess.

Seokjin’s giggles dwindle down. “Thanks,” he says, smiling small.

You blame the heat of your cheeks from the heat of your soup.

Neither of you are desperate to get to that last quarter of noodles to broth ratio. The knots of your shoulders loosen with the sound of your slurping combined, and silently you are reminded of Seokjin’s warmth, standing so close to you.

The easiest path to a nice ending involves a happy belly and Seokjin driving you home with nothing more than a goodbye and a thank-you as you slam the car door shut. This is not unknown to you, because you and Hyukjae-from-Psych took that easy path yesterday.

You just don’t do this often, contemplating all the routes of romance. When is it appropriate to laugh at a joke, to wipe your mouth on the napkin? To smile and peel at your heart and grant that person access to all your inner workings? You belatedly notice that Seokjin did not bring napkins.

(The moment in the car—nothing you don’t want to give me—you want to laugh at his jokes, and smile, peel and peel and peel at your heart, but slowly. Slowly, you put your chopsticks down.)

How funny it is to come to very sound conclusions within a split second, because all you know is that it feels good, being with him like this.

Seokjin, in your quiet realization, takes it upon himself to decide the cookie-eating rights.

“Want the first bite?” He asks, propping the chopsticks horizontally on his bowl.

You nod. Desperately you try not to look at him because you might make more realizations, and you don’t think you’re ready for any more unleashed and unknown emotions. “Please.”

He gives it to you. The right side decidedly has more chocolate chips, and  it’s a very nice explosion on your tongue. So nice you groan into it. “Oh that’s really good.”

He snatches the cookie away before you can take another bite. “I get bigger bites because I paid for it.”

“That—? Uh, that’s not how sharing works.”

“Yes it does,” Seokjin argues. But he just takes as normal a bite as ever. You can’t say you don’t focus on his mouth for too long, though—

—And you immediately seize up at the thought. Horrified, you shriek: “Actually just—have the rest of it!”

He looks alarmed. “O…kay?”

“You’ve got a nice mouth,” you blurt out next.

An absolutely awful feeling settles heavy in your stomach. Because almost immediately you realize that this is a kind and soft boy with nice anecdotes that have yet to be uncovered this night (he likes telling you stories) and he’s got wider shoulders than Kim Taehyung and you’re not sharing butter tarts but you’re sharing a cookie with him.

Another realization: does Seokjin have limp arms?

He puts the cookie down. (His arm looks very strong, doing that.) “I—thanks?”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” you note.

He watches you slump over the counter. Purposefully burying your face in your elbows to muffle your betraying mouth. “It’s late,” is all he says.

“Did that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.” You don’t think you’re breathing. Your lungs have evaporated, like those steamy ramen noodles you just ate. Seokjin probably notices you’ve stopped moving, so he says, “Really.”

“Okay.”

“Did it—did it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” you say.

“Cool. Do you wanna go—“

You stand up straight, grab all your garbage before he finishes. You don’t look at him. “Yep, yep, please.”

(iii)

He puts the key in the ignition, and doesn’t budge.

“Somehow I feel like you wanna say something else,” Seokjin says.

You curl your hands into fists. “It’s late.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.” You are acutely aware of how garbled you must sound. It’s starting to get on your nerves, how flimsy you’re being. “I’m not… thinking.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re being pretty articulate for someone with an empty brain.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Seokjin sighs.

The seat squeaks where you tense up. “I don’t want to think about your mouth.”

“Do you wanna know what I think?” You nod. Jesus. You’ll just let him do the talking from now on because your tongue can’t be trusted this early in delirium, late in the hour. “I—I…”

Seokjin struggles some more, then deflates. He starts laughing.

“I… don’t drive just anyone out to convenience stores at two in the morning for ramen. You have to know that.” He clears his throat. His eyes are shiny with the harsh glare of neon signs. “I guess I just—wanna know… what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking…” Your lips part. Searching for words feels like a physical thing—your stomach is swimming with what feels like a billion thoughts but nothing comes up for air. “I’m thinking I—don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Seokjin turns to look at you. “I won’t make fun,” he whispers.

“I think. I think, you look—um—really… Good. Um. R-Really… good, right now.”

“Thanks.” He looks up like he wants to say something but his eyes harden where he gazes, locking in on the dust motes of the windshield. Your lungs swell small in the quietude. “I think you really look good, too.”

If baser compliments already have you burning then you don’t know what you’d do if he tried anything more romantically complex. Some people are meant for loud love stories and grand gestures and you—all you can do is think too much and you want to say more but Seokjin understands. He understands your silence, your ineptitude.

In a fit of controlled passion, you reach over the console, grasping at his knuckles till he flips his palm right into yours.

“Feels… ”

You wait for something to come to mind. A phrase, a proper thought to give utterance to, all the failures and successes of the night. Faithfully, nothing comes.

It just feels.

And Seokjin seems to agree. He holds tight between the grooves of your fingers.

“You’re very pretty and it hurts,” he says, and he doesn’t try to meet your gaze, and one feeling comes resolute: it feels right.

#bts scenarios #seokjin scenarios #jin scenarios #bts #jin #seokjin #ubemango fic #f: commissions

[peaceoutofthepieces]

chapter 22.5

When My Phone Turns Off

You can all thank @ciaraparkie for pointing out that this is the best way of doing this particular plot point. You can assume it occurred yesterday after the events of chapter 22, or today before the events of the next chapter.

Jens is glad this is one of the days they’ve planned to meet up with Sander after school so they could all head to the skatepark together. He never thought he’d be so happy about such a thing, but he’s a little relieved to have that extra source of support. Robbe, however, gives him a worried glance and leans in close to him, asking, “Is it okay that Sander’s here?”

Jens purses his lips and nods, squeezing Robbe’s shoulder reassuringly. Sander notices, and obviously understands, asking, “You’re doing that today?”

“Yeah,” Jens sighs, glancing at Moyo and Aaron a few paces ahead. He doesn’t know why he’s worried. At this point, they’ve spent enough time with Robbe and Sander that it’d be impossible to still be secretly hiding any problem with it. At least, he thinks so. At this point, they’re actively supportive. 

But for Jens to come out now, months later...he’s worried it’s going to be a little weird. Again. 

“Yo, pussies,” Moyo calls back to them. “Are you planning on actually making it to the park today or what?”

Jens flips him off and he laughs, pushing Aaron ahead of him and jogging on down the street. Robbe gives Jens a small smile and Sander gives his back a reassuring pat. Jens takes a breath and follows them. 

At the skatepark, he sits at the top of a ramp with Sander and watches the others do a few runs. He waits for Robbe to start showing off, but he’s too busy sending glances at them to try many tricks. Sander watches him in awe regardless, sitting silently next to Jens with his camera at the ready. 

“You don’t have to tell them today, you know,” Sander says. “When Robbe asked, he was trying to rush you.”

Jens sighs. “I know. Of course I know that. But I’ve already been not telling them for weeks.”

“Yeah but you’ve only known for weeks. You don’t owe it to anyone to tell them. Not if you don’t want to, not before you’re ready.”

“It’s different, though,” Jens points out. “With Lucas. There’s more to it than just telling them I’m bi.”

“You’re what?”

Jens and Sander look up to find Moyo standing behind them, face surprised as he stares at Jens. Jens can’t see any malice there, any disgust, and yet his chest tightens all the same. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He was supposed to actually tell them, not have them overhear. Sander sends him a look, worried and apologetic, and Jens simply shrugs. He isn’t going to take it back now, even if it isn’t going exactly as planned. 

He didn’t have that much of a plan in the first place. 

He catches Robbe’s gaze and beckons him over, watching him collect Aaron on his way. Moyo sits down next to Jens as Robbe jogs up and tucks himself into Sander’s side. Once Aaron’s seated next to Moyo, Jens twists around to face them and tries to be comforted by the knowledge of Robbe and Sander at his back. Moyo’s eyes flit over his face, questioning. “You’re bi?”

“What?” Aaron asks, mouth dropping open. 

Jens smiles slightly and gives them a small shrug. “Yeah.”

Moyo licks his lips, shaking his head, as Aaron blinks at him. “Since when?” Moyo asks.

Jens hears Sander huff a laugh. “Since always, I guess. Since when have I known? A few weeks.

Moyo nods, looking straight ahead. Aaron looks between the two of them before settling his focus on Jens. “And what,” he pauses, clearing his throat, “what made you, uhm, realise this?”

Jens bites his lip, debates for a second, and then says, “It was Moyo, actually.”

Moyo whips back around to look at him, wide-eyed. “Me?” he demands, as Robbe bursts out laughing. 

Jens joins him, giggling lightly as he says, “No, not like that. Damn. I mean, when you told us to check out other YouTube channels, I...I found this guy.” Moyo nods in understanding and waits for him to continue. Jens sighs. “It’s kind of a long story?”

Moyo shares a look with Aaron, then shrugs. He offers Jens a smile. “We’ve got time.”

So, Jens tells them much the same story as he told Robbe. He allows himself to go into a little more detail, backtracking when he realises he’s left something out. Robbe points these out occasionally, when Jens gets lost and starts going too fast, but aside from that there aren’t many interruptions. Moyo and Aaron listen intently, as does Sander, taking in Jens’s full account of the story instead of Robbe’s passed-on information. It makes his chest pinch, talking about it again, talking about it out loud, reminding himself of Lucas at all. It also feels therapeutic, more so than when he talked about it with Robbe, when the hurt was still too raw, the wound still too fresh. There’s still a thread of pain there, twined tightly with a spool of anger, all doused in the overwhelming feeling of loss that he’d felt even before blocking the boy, as soon as the realisation had set in. 

Moyo and Aaron are silent when he’s done, taking it all in, considering. Jens doesn’t expect to get anything new out of this, doesn’t expect them to give him any reassurance that Robbe hasn’t already. 

Still, they try. 

“Maybe he is telling the truth, though?” Aaron tries. “About you, I mean. It sounds like he was being sincere?”

Moyo nods. “Yeah, man. Like, why would you go to that much work just for a joke? And why would he follow you, like your posts and shit if he was just playing a game?”

“He didn’t know it was me,” Jens points out. 

“When he followed you, yeah,” Moyo agrees. “But after that? It doesn’t fit. Why would he flirt with you, and come out to you and whatever all for a joke? I would’ve been the kind of person to take the piss like that and I never would have gone to that much effort. That’d take like, a seriously sick person. And I don’t think this dude is like that. Really.”

Jens sighs, slumping until his back hits Sander’s shoulder. Sander makes a small noise of protest, but doesn’t push him off. Robbe laughs quietly and says, “I’ve already told you all this, but if Moyo thinks it's sick and wouldn’t do it, I can’t imagine Lucas would. Imagine how much of a dick he’d have to be.”

Moyo flips Robbe off, but also gestures his agreement. Jens smiles, shaking his head at them. “I was hoping you two would be on my side,” he jokes. 

“Well this whole not thinking he’s really into you thing reminds me of another situation,” Moyo points out, with a pointed look over Jens’s shoulder. Sander squeezes Robbe closer to his side and drops a kiss onto his head. “And it worked out okay for them.”

“He has a point,” Sander shrugs, purposefully jostling Jens and earning a grumble in answer. “If he really means that much to you, maybe it’s worth fighting for him.”

“Or at least forgiving him,” Robbe adds softly. Jens looks back at him and Robbe gives a little shrug. “You’ll never be able to let it go if you leave it without some kind of resolution. You’ll always either be mad or wondering if you were wrong. Or both.”

Jens really hates when Robbe’s right. 

Still, he shakes his head. “I can’t go back on myself now. I definitely can’t be the one to reach out. That’s a whole new level of pathetic.”

Aaron shrugs. “Maybe he’d like you taking pathetic to a new level.”

Moyo looks around him and makes a face. “What the fuck, man? No. He’s not doing that.” He turns back to Jens. “You’re not doing that, right?”

“Right,” Jens agrees quickly. Even if he’s willing to forgive Lucas, or at least hear him out, at least consider that he was honest about his feelings, he isn’t going to go crawling back to him. Ever. Lucas doesn’t deserve that amount of attention from him. But, maybe he could be convinced to unblock him, eventually. To leave the ball in Lucas’s court. 

He’ll have probably already moved on by then, anyway. 

“What does this guy look like, anyway?” Aaron questions. “Did you do as well as Robbe?”

Jens snorts as Sander grins, but he pulls up a pic of Lucas. “Nice,” Sander says. 

Jens twists around to look at him. “Robbe didn’t show you?” Sander shakes his head, so Jens passes him the phone. 

Sander considers the last image Lucas posted, complete with his personal favourite black and white filter, and simply comments, “Cute. I understand why you’d watch his videos.”

Robbe makes an indignant sound and Jens laughs, passing the phone to Moyo and Aaron, who huddle together to examine it. They both hum, and Aaron shrugs as Moyo gives the phone back to Jens. “I mean, he’s no Sander, but…”

“But he’s pretty fucking pretty?” Jens finishes. “Yeah. I know.”

Sander reaches around Jens to pinch his cheek. “But not as pretty as you,” he cooes. Jens bats him away. 

“Listen, we can’t tell you what to do, but Robbe’s right. I think you should give him a second chance,” Moyo says.

Jens raises a brow. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be so…”

“Supportive?” Robbe offers.

“I was gonna say chill but, yeah, actually.”

Moyo huffs, looking away from them as he says. “I get that last time wasn’t my best moment but...I’m not good at apologising, okay? I know I’m not good at these things. I’m learning. But you know I love you, man,” he punches Jens’s arm. “That’s enough, yeah?”

Jens nods, returning his smile. Since the start of their friendship, Moyo’s been closer to Jens than he ever was to Robbe. Their friendship maybe even improved after everything, when Moyo made it clear that even though he wasn’t sure how to react and didn’t know how to be supportive at the time, he wasn’t willing to lose Robbe over it. Jens is glad the same sentiment extends to him, and that he’s coming out at a time where they’re all a bit more educated. 

“It won’t be a problem anymore if you’re all done coming out to me,” Moyo points out, giving Aaron a look. It takes Aaron a moment to notice him, but then he starts sputtering, pointing out that he already has a girlfriend and being hit back with the reminder that all three of the others also had girlfriends. 

“Okay but wait,” Aaron says, returning his attention to Jens. “Does this mean you’d fuck me?”

“Man,” Moyo says, as Robbe and Jens start laughing.

“No. Sorry bro,” Jens apologises. 

Aaron groans. “Who, out of us then?”

“Obviously me,” Moyo says.

“No,” Jens laughs. “Out of you? Sander.”

“Really?” Sander asks, sounding genuinely intrigued.

Robbe moves from under his arm, sitting up to pout at them. “Hey, Sander wasn’t an option last time, it’s supposed to be out of the Broerrrs.” 

“Sander is an honorary Broerrr,” Jens points out.

“True, but Robbe’s right,” Moyo says. “Sander wasn’t an option last time.”

“Then Robbe,” Jens says immediately. Robbe cheers, offering Jens a fist bump.

“Seriously?” Aaron gawks. “What the fuck.”

“You’re last again, man,” Moyo laughs.

Aaron protests, “No, he didn’t pick between us.” Moyo rolls his eyes, but they both look to Jens. Jens points at Moyo and Aaron groans.

While they’re laughing, Jens feels at peace. He realises that, for a moment, he’d completely forgotten about Lucas.

#van der stoffels #vds #jens x lucas #wtfock #skam nl #when my phone turns off #wmpto

[therem-harth]

h h hewwo owoo 22 / 23 / 29 / 31 / 34 / 50 / 58 / 61 / 88 in any order, and u can also just. pick only those that u want :3

hhhh-ewwwo? I did say I wanted to chat and I desperately do not want to do work or studies so buckle in for a long post (derogatory). 22. role model? Oh man, I don’t think I have any, like, specific ones for entire things, though I do fall in my hero-worship phaes and then fall out of them like everyone else. I think that taking an entire person and being like I wanna be like them is... not for me though. But I do look up to some people for specific things - I look up to, weirdly enough, Abigail Phylosohpytube who I didn’t watch before her coming out for her graceful coming out video though she admits that the experience wasn’t obviously as smooth. I look up to lots and lots of people for their ability to create and their art (not gonna tag my fav artists bc am tiny and do not want people to look at me, but i do be reblogging). I look up to people like ConcernedApe Stardewvalley and Supergiantgames Hades for their ability to put so much soul in their work, smth I aspire to do. I look up to @not-poignant for, among other things, their idk how to say it best, wisdom in understanding and communicating with others and with myself? I’ve learned a lot by just sort of being in their periphery and seeing how they articulate their thoughts and choose to be kind and witness other’s pain. Hell, I look up to twitch streamers and youtubers sometimes (the recent nice trait I’d like to have if I ever went into bigger content production is how ibxtoycat deals with parasocial relationship realities). 23. strange habits? Hm. I don’t think drinking tea whenever I need a pick-me-up is strange, that’s just probably forcefully assigning a British nationality to me. I think my insistence on misspelling words in a way I think is lowkey funny might be one, I say thamks bc it feels softer, or thank bc it’s funny, I say sleeb, I say finkers or tryink or otherwise replace g with k for lulz. I also don’t know if it counts as a habit but I have a small leather band around my wrist that’s been there for a year soon. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm I probs have like, stranger habits but I can’t recall rn. 29. best way to bond with you? Hmm. Well, if you show initiative and are explicit about wanting to spend time with me, that’s already a big chance of me spending time with you. And then if our interests match and I don’t think that you’re like, young in a way that automatically puts me in a position where I don’t feel comfortable really being myself around you bc in my head I have to look out for you (it has happened with two of my friends, sigh), and we regularly spend time together, voila, friend acquired. It simultaneously doesn’t take much and takes a bit to be my friend and bond with me - it’s easy af to become a casual friend cuz I’m always open to new people, but there has to be a level of trust to become like, a close friend. Respecting my boundaries, talking shit with me, being explicitly committal about wanting to bond with me are big steps that way. 31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? Uh, I don’t do neither, but a current fave that is reasonably badass is my black tshirt with like, a ritual circle and a deer skull. V edgy, 10/10. I also used to have like a real edgy tshirt with a jester and some dice that said the game of life, but I threw it out bc dysphoria. or maybe I put it at the back of my closet along with one other shirt In Case I Get Top Surgery so I can wear them then. 34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? Many, such is the nature of advertising, alas. I have managed to avoid most of it tbh though, so the only place I am forced to sit through ads so they stick is my scrabble capitalist nightmare app where I play and always beat haha my coursemate. And they have adds for those shitty apps where you have to solve a puzzle that ends up failing in the add and like, drenching a man in green goo. I find those kinda fascinating tbh. Who plays these games? Who plays these shitty shitty games whose ad has to be “prove your IQ“ to make you want to prove yourself to play them? Oh and also, the insidious nature of ads in media I consume - the mcelroys have gotten me informed about many many things bc they do it in a funny way. Have you heard about squarespace? What about meundies? I also literally installed honey yesterday that I knew abt bc of the relentless adds and I wanted to save, uh, 2.50 from my minecraft server purchase (and then spent some time googling how they make money before giving up. just say u sell my data, that’s easier than not knowing what part of this makes you money). I was tired and in a weird mood, ok. 50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? It’s always the stupidest jokes, what matters more is laughing together with someone and getting caught in a laughing loop. I still remember laughing with my siblings until our stomachs really really hurt bc I think one of us said a rug was vomit-colored and it was funny in the moment. How many times have I laughed like that with you too, vit. I know that Laura’s one is nostrilatu, right? :D :D It’s just something that catches you off guard, I think.

58. four talents you’re proud of having? Oh shid. Hm. 1) My ability to analyze data and understand the basic building blocks of something. Makes me cool at studying and sexy at explaining things to my course-mates. 2) Not a talent more like a skill that I’ve worked hard on through therapy - but my inner positive voice/healthy parent is very strong and automatic (something I was sure would never happen). A good example is me going out for a walk, my phone dying so I can’t listen to music, when I went in my head “well I can always make music in my head. do-do-do *drum sound*“ and I could feel the wave of self-reprimand cresting but before I could actually hear any negative comments the positive voice said with a light of a thousand suns NO THAT IS ACTUALLY CUTE AND SEXY and just haaaaaaah. 3) I sing good. Need to sing more. 4) I think I’m good at making conversation. Even with people I don’t necessarily like or want to talk to. More of a skill again but whatever. 61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? Do not come to me and ask for favorites, witch. Uh, I have some quotes in my notes app, like 7 from Pia’s writing :D. But imma go with “It’s a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world“ by Mary Oliver. It counts, ok. Or, wait, something I will for real one day either crosstitch of commission shitpostcalligrapher: “t’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something. “What are we holding onto Sam?” “There’s good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.“” 88. your greatest wish? Hrm. Right now? To have like a couple days with no responsibilities and without the outside world bearing on me as heavily, to be tiny tiny tiny so I’m invisible and can drink tiny tea on a tiny leaf. Uh, in general? My recently formulated wish or a goal is stability/peace. Then everything else becomes ok because you can bounce back to stable ground between feeling shit or everything happening so much. And I’ve sort of reached that. Also like, half a million euros would be nice too so I can get a house and a car and go on a few trips abroad. :D // there’s two ask memes in my blog recently, go wild

#long post #derogatory #personal #i think the wish to be tiny was there more last week #now i just wanna have nice things and fun and a bit of rest but am otherwise less overwhelmed #also hey. talks #chats

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 7

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wēn Qíng, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wēn Qíng, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Granny Wēn, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wēn Remnants, Wen Meilin, Fourth Uncle

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secrets, Crying, Masks, Soulmates, Truth, Self-Esteem Issues, Regret, It was supposed to be a one-shot, Fix-It, Eventual Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, wwx needs a hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Filial Piety, Handfasting, Phobias, Sleeping Together, Fear, Panic Attacks, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Family, and they were married, Bathing/Washing, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Feels, Sex Education

Summary: A little making out, and family time.

Notes: Soft chapter, but one that was difficult to write. Definitely look up the song Wei WuXian plays on the dizi. There’s a version on YouTube played with the xiao, and it’s lovely. Last week of summer semester, so it might be a bit before I update.

AO3 link

Chapters:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

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Though at first their teeth collide a few times, Lan WangJi discovers that kissing, as with anything else, is a skill one can improve with practice. He is startled a bit when Wei Ying opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, but he finds the sensation of his tongue against his own more than enjoyable. 

He finds it even more enjoyable to be able to finally give attention to the mole under his lip that has taunted him all these years. Wei Ying seems to realize his focus because he laughs, joyous and breathless and beautiful. 

Lan WangJi hooks his arm around Wei Ying to pull him closer, but he freezes at his pained hiss.

Of course; Wei Ying was injured by Wen Ning, and likely hurt himself last night falling to the hard cave floor in his haste to escape the dog spirit.

As much as he would prefer to continue this, Lan WangJi forces himself to stop. He can’t help but remember Wei Ying’s reminder that their union hasn’t been consummated, and that doesn’t make it easier. He has, after all, been waiting since he was fifteen. 

“You are injured,” he says softly, sitting. “And malnourished.”

Wei Ying pouts, but doesn’t protest vocally or move to get up, which tells Lan WangJi he truly is in pain, and judging from the way his eyelids are drooping, absolutely in need of more sleep.

“I will meditate here, and we will have breakfast together when you wake. We should also discuss my brother’s impending visit.”

“Ah, I guess you want to tell him we’re married, then?” Wei Ying says with a sigh. “Can we at least ask him to keep quiet about it until after shijie’s wedding? She deserves better than to have her happy day overshadowed.”

Lan WangJi has not, in fact, thought yet of how he will tell his brother he married Wei Ying all those years ago and neglected to tell him. But he does agree that the news should not detract from the marriage of Jiang YanLi and Jin ZiXuan, though he disagrees with the idea that the their marriage could be a dark thing.

“Agreed, but…”

He pauses, considering how to say what comes next, how not to risk driving Wei Ying away again.

“Please consider telling my brother you no longer have a golden core, if not the circumstances,” Lan WangJi finally says.

He is relieved when Wei Ying doesn’t pull away, only grimaces, but his relief is short-lived.

“You think he’s more apt to help if he knows I’m broken,” he whispers.

Lan WangJi feels his jaw drop, horror rising as he realizes just how deeply Wei Ying’s self-loathing goes. He wishes he could assure him of his own worth, but he also knows it will take time to convince him. But this, he knows, is his fault. He did not help Wei Ying until he knew the truth, when he should have helped from the beginning, should have trusted him.

Does Wei Ying believe he pities him? The idea chafes.

“You are not broken,” he tells him, “and certainly not simply by virtue of being without a golden core.”

Wei Ying snorts derisively. 

“Then what am I? A cultivator who can only cultivate on the crooked path?”

Lan WangJi gently pulls Wei Ying closer until he’s pillowed in his lap, until he can look at him directly, if upside down.

“Wei Ying is Wei Ying. You need be nothing more.”

His zhiji looks away, his eyes shining in the dim candlelight. Lan WangJi feels helpless in the face of his despondency, knows he is in part the cause.

“I haven’t even told Jiang Cheng. He’s going to be so angry.”

He understands; the secret involves his brother, and he has a duty to tell him first, regardless of how long it will be before he sees him next. Wei Ying’s public break with the Jiang clan makes that uncertain, and it is not the sort of revelation that would be appropriate in a letter. In fact, if it were known he sent a letter to Jiang Cheng at all, problems could arise.

Perhaps XiChen could send one on their behalf, though, asking Jiang Cheng to at least visit in secret.

“I will tell no one, Wei Ying. Not even xiongzhang, if you do not wish it. But… eventually you will no longer be able to hide it.”

Lan WangJi strokes Wei Ying’s cheek, hating to have to think about or reference the inevitability of his mortality. Hating that it is an inevitability.

“I ask only that you consider it, nothing more. I will honor whatever decision you make.”

Wei Ying doesn't reply, instead curls closer, shifts until his face is hidden against Lan WangJi’s side, his arms around his waist, his body further in his lap.

“You are not broken,” he repeats, running his hand through Wei Ying’s hair. “You are beautiful and honorable.”

He wishes the rest of the world could see Wei Ying as he does.

In the silence, he has little to focus on, noting the brittleness of his hair, how it seems as unhealthy as the rest of Wei Ying. But Lan WangJi has never had much opportunity to touch him this way—after XuanWu and when he fell after Wen RuoHan’s death notwithstanding. 

Neither are pleasant memories, particularly the latter. The image of Wen RuoHan dangling Wei Ying by the throat over the steps of Nightless City still fills him with dread. He was certain then he was about to witness his zhiji’s death, to watch his neck snapped, to see him tossed aside like a broken doll.

Afterward, in the days he was unconscious, watching the bruises around his throat fade slowly, fearing he may never wake again as his spiritual energy did not seem to be recovering… It did not recover, but it was not, as he suspected then, due to demonic cultivation.

Lan WangJi wishes he realized sooner. He will always wish that he somehow was able to help Wei Ying more, will always feel the sting of having failed him for so long.

Wei Ying’s breathing evens slowly as he falls asleep, and Lan WangJi matches his breathing. Though he has never attempted meditation with someone in his lap, his zhiji’s presence is soothing, and he slips into the necessary trance easily. 

He slips out of it just as easily a couple hours later when he hears footsteps approaching their chamber of the cave. From the sound, very short legs, the pace puttering against the stone and dirt of the cave.

Lan WangJi is unsurprised when a-Yuan enters. The child surveys them quietly for a moment.

“Xian-gege sad?” he finally asks.

Only then does Lan WangJi remember that Wei Ying is asleep in his lap, arms still twined around his waist.

“Mn,” he says with a nod.

Because despite Wei Ying’s happiness at his insistence that he indeed wanted to be married to him, his request regarding his brother upset him. And it had taken far too much convincing for his liking for Wei Ying to believe he was worthy of him. 

“Hugs make me feel better when I’m sad,” the child says. “I can hug Xian-gege, too.”

Lan WangJi nods again, and a-Yuan toddles over and chooses the most expedient way to deliver a hug: flopping onto Wei Ying and then hugging him. 

He resists the urge to scold the child when Wei Ying wakes with a pained grunt, and instead lifts a-Yuan off, settling him on one knee.

“Ah, a-Yuan, be careful,” Wei Ying murmurs, his voice a bit strained. “You’re getting big.”

“Xian-gege needed hugs. And gugu said you need to wake up for breakfast. And popo said you’re too skinny.”

“Popo always says that.”

Wei Ying winces when he sits up, which lets Lan WangJi know Wen Qing should examine him. He hopes he will not injure as easily once he’s in better health.

“She is not wrong, Wei Ying.”

He pulls a face in response, but can’t help but laugh when a-Yuan imitates him. 

“All right, all right. Let’s go eat.”

Lan WangJi is relieved when Wei Ying doesn’t need help getting up, though he doubts very much he would ask if he did. He carries a-Yuan with them, and the boy seems content with being carried. 

“I did not inquire yesterday about bathing facilities,” he comments as they make their way to the communal area.

Wei Ying laughs shortly.

“‘Bathing facilities.’ You’re so proper. We have a river, Lan Zhan. That and basins and rags. That’s about it right now.”

The river was practical, but not in the long term. Perhaps that was something to address with Wen Qing, then, whether tubs could be purchased. Before winter, when bathing in a river would be less than ideal. 

“I know you’re used to better, but I’ll show you where later today,” Wei Ying says. “Honestly, I’m probably overdue for a wash myself.”

“Xian-gege stinky?”

Wei Ying drops back to tickle a-Yuan. 

“Stinky, eh? You just wait, stinky radish. I’m sure your gugu will want us to give you a bath, too.”

“A-Yuan not stinky!” the boy squeals with a giggle.

Wei Ying darts in and makes a show of smelling him.

“Oh, my little radish is ripe. It’s almost time to pick him and cook him up for dinner!”

“No cook a-Yuan!” he shrieks, still giggling, as they enter the communal area.

“Oh? Should we sell the little radish at market instead?”

“Noooooo! Gugu, tell Xian-gege!”

Wen Qing scowls at Wei Ying, but it’s without heat, a sort of play-acting likely affected for a-Yuan’s amusement.

“I swear sometimes you’re a child yourself,” she mutters.

“Xianxian is three,” Wei Ying sings with a grin.

“Brat,” she says, rolling her eyes, her voice fond.

They’re a family here, Lan WangJi has come to see. The closeness of their relationships brings light to the darkness of the Burial Mounds. He is glad they have been there for his zhiji when he has not.

Wei Ying winces when he settles on one of the seats and Wen Qing’s sharp gaze catches it. She looks between them with an expression that looks far too amused, and despite the fact that her assumption is incorrect, Lan WangJi can feel his ears heat.

“Dog spirit,” he explains. “Wei Ying fell.”

Wen Qing’s expression shifts to concern. It’s clear she knows of Wei Ying’s phobia.

“The damn thing came back again?”

Lan WangJi glances at Wei Ying—he didn’t mention it had bothered him on previous occasions.

“Bad dog,” a-Yuan contributes.

“Lan Zhan eliminated it this time,” Wei Ying says, avoiding both their gazes.

Wen Qing shoots him a grateful look. 

“Last time he knocked into the cave wall and almost broke his nose,” she tells him. “Hopefully all he’s got this time is a few bruises, but at least it won’t be back.”

She turns her attention back to Wei Ying.

“I’ll examine you after breakfast to be sure. Cooperate or I’ll make you.”

“Aiya, no needles, Qing-jie! No need to bully me.”

Wei Ying grabs a-Yuan from Lan WangJi’s lap to use as a shield. The boy just giggles, like this is a common occurrence. Knowing his propensity for dramatics, it probably is.

“A-Ning is giving you double portions today,” Wen Qing continues, ignoring his antics. “And I’ll trust Hanguang-Jun to make sure you’re not feeding it to a-Yuan. He’s getting plenty, too, and we have radishes ready to harvest in a few days so we’ll be fine with food for a little while at least.”

She glares at him when he looks like he might protest.

“You’re unhealthy and everyone is worried about you. Popo was encouraging me to use needles and find a way to shove it down your throat earlier. Don’t think I won’t resort to that.”

Wei Ying, thankfully, takes her seriously enough to behave throughout breakfast. He eats enough that even popo, who seats herself at their table and manages to look both sweet and intimidating throughout the meal, seems satisfied.

True to her threat, Wen Qing has popo take charge of a-Yuan and drags a lightly protesting Wei Ying back to the Demon Subduing Cave to be examined. Lan WangJi hesitates, but follows at his zhiji’s pleading look. 

“Sit,” Wen Qing orders when they’ve reached the alcove “I want to make sure you didn’t break anything, at least. You have horrid luck. Where did you fall?”

“Shoulder and hip,” Wei Ying says with a resigned sigh. “But it’s really not—”

He goes silent at her glare, which Lan WangJi has to admit is formidable. 

“Don’t even,” she huffs. “You always lie about your injuries. Strip.”

Wei Ying, to Lan WangJi’s surprise, actually blushes, glancing at him. Wen Qing takes notice, looking between them.

“Ah, you told him, then?” 

She looks almost amused. 

“Wait, you told her?”

Lan WangJi almost winces at the bit of hurt in his tone.

“That he’s besotted with you? Any fool could tell, except you,” Wen Qing snaps.

“I did not tell her,” Lan WangJi confirms.

He is a little concerned when a slightly gleeful look passed over Wei Ying’s face, replaced with one that is utterly fond.

“So I was the first one you told that you handfasted me when we were sixteen?”

Wen Qing makes a noise that sounds almost like a choke, looking at them uncertainly.

“I did not even tell xiongzhang,” he confirms. “I would tell no one without telling you first.”

Wei Ying’s expression turns to one of adoration, and Lan WangJi starts mentally reciting the Lan principles, as he is sorely tempted to revisit their morning activities.

Wen Qing is still staring at them, and Lan WangJi takes pity, explaining in brief what occurred in the Cold Spring cave, with Wei Ying contributing details. He finishes by explaining the meaning of the forehead ribbons in a wedding ceremony and the bow to Lan Yi as essentially an elopement.

“You’re married?” Wen Qing murmurs, her voice hoarse with shock. “Married.”

Her gaze turns shrewd.

“Has it been consummated?”

It’s Wei Ying’s turn to choke. 

“Qing-jie!”

Lan WangJi doesn’t trust himself to answer verbally and simply shakes his head.

To his surprise, she starts pacing, hands clasped behind her back. He didn’t expect her to be someone who paces.

“And you want to be wed, correct?” she asks after a moment.

Wei Ying’s “definitely” and Lan WangJi’s “of course” are simultaneous.

“Good,” she says, her tone surprisingly emphatic, as she turns to them. “So you’ve had quite an extended engagement, and we can figure out what this idiot gave as courting gifts since you bought a-Yuan toys and provided the Burial Mounds with money. I hate to simplify what is obviously a love match to political terms, but you need to consummate before Zewu-Jun arrives, in anticipation of the question of its validity.”

Lan WangJi can feel his ears heating, and Wei Ying’s face blushes more fetchingly than before. Wen Qing looks between them, and her brief look of glee is ever more concerning than Wei Ying’s was.

“Well, since you’re both clearly virgins—” 

She ignores the “hey!” from Wei Ying.

“—and I am familiar with all forms of sexual hygiene as a doctor, I’ll go ahead and explain exactly what you’ll need to do to make it a safe and enjoyable experience.”

Wei Ying’s jaw drops. Wen Qing gestures for Lan WangJi to sit, and he’s honestly grateful to as she starts talking. She brusquely yanks Wei Ying’s robes from his shoulder to check his injuries as she does, and Lan WangJi has to avert his gaze from his zhiji’s milky skin to avoid reacting to it.

He cannot deny he has thought quite a bit about what he wanted to do with Wei Ying very often almost since first meeting him. Wen Qing’s very detailed and blunt explanations make those imaginings far less fuzzy than they were before. She even includes a discussion of aftercare, advising they keep a basin of water and rags nearby for the “mess.” By the time she’s finished, Wei Ying’s very red face is buried in his hands, and Lan WangJi has to avert his gaze as she pulls his trousers away from his hip, revealing the curve of one bruised buttock.

“And I guess I’ll have to send Merlin-yi to market for the oil,” Wen Qing says as she wraps up both her lecture and her examination. “I’ll send a-Ning, too. Even if we can’t provide a proper banquet, a marriage deserves celebration. You’re family, Wei WuXian, and we’ll do our best.”

“Qing-jie,” Wei Ying whispers, sounding touched.

She offers him a smile and shoves his robes at him.

“If we could afford red silk, we’d throw a whole wedding. You don’t mind the others knowing, right? They’ll be very happy for you.”

Lan WangJi glances at Wei Ying, careful to keep his eyes on his face—he may be wearing trousers, but he might as well be naked and it’s terribly distracting. The look on his face assures him he doesn’t mind, so he nods affirmation to Wen Qing.

“It’s just some bruising, thankfully,” she assures them. “I’d put on salve, but I heard you discussing bathing at the river, so I’ll leave that for later. It’d be a waste to apply it twice.”

Wei Ying pulls his robes on, still red in the face.

“Right, a bath.”

His gaze is shy when he looks at Lan WangJi, who is trying to imagine how they’ll get through bathing together without engaging in some of the activities described by Wen Qing. 

Some of that thought must have been apparent to Wei Ying, because his face flushed again. 

Wen Qing snorts. 

“Not so shameless after all, are you? We’ll be sure to give the river a wide berth.”

Wei Ying’s response is to hide his face in his hands again.

“We will bathe separately,” Lan WangJi states, pulling Wei Ying to his feet.

Wen Qing just laughs at them.

When they reach the river, which is a short trek from the settlement, Lan WangJi insists Wei Ying bathe first, pulling the fragrant soaps he uses for his body and hair from is qiankun pouch for him to use. He knows they are likely a luxury, and he is happy to share it with him.

He plays his guqin while his zhiji bathes, starting with “WangXian” and moving into “Cleansing,” infusing the latter with spiritual energy. He is pleased when the resentful energy in the area eases, and hopes it helps Wei Ying as well.

When Wei Ying returns, clad in fresh robes, he takes his own turn to bathe. The water is chilly, but not inordinately so in the summer heat. He is pleased when the notes of a dizi fill the air, playing “WangXian” as well. Though he composed the song with the guqin in mind, the rendition Wei Ying plays on ChenQing is lovely. Lan WangJi is glad it has brought him comfort.

The notes shift into what he recognizes as “Plum-Blossom in Three Movements,” a song he rather likes but didn’t know Wei Ying knew. Lan WangJi has heard xiongzhang play it on the xiao and can play it on the guqin, though it was originally composed for the dizi. But he shouldn’t be surprised; Wei Ying is a master of the six arts and has displayed such with references to literature and poetry even in his playful moments.

The plum blossom is an apt symbol for the resilience of life on the Burial Mounds and for Wei Ying, who always endured despite the hardships he faced. Perhaps the song is an expression of Wei Ying’s hope, his faith in Lan WangJi. He wants to give his zhiji hope, longs to ease his hardships. 

When he has finished and dressed in fresh robes, he rejoins Wei Ying and asks if he may comb his hair.

He uses his own sandalwood scented oil, giving it the proper treatment.

Wei Ying is swaying slightly when he finishes, the pampering lulling him nearly to sleep. Lan WangJi longs to style his hair, to put it in the GusuLan style as though Wei Ying was marrying into his clan. But he is not, and so he refrains. 

Instead he brushes the hair from the nape of his neck, leaning forward to brush his lips against the soft hair there.

Wei Ying shivers and turns to him, pulling him in for a proper kiss before taking the comb and hair oil from him to return the favor. 

Lan WangJi didn’t expect the sensuality of his husband brushing his hair—husband. They’re married. Wei Ying’s deft fingers make short work of his tangles, gently spread oil to treat his hair, grazing his scalp in blossoms of sensation, love in every touch.

Wei Ying braids his hair, his fingers weaving the locks with care, and Lan WangJi lets him. He is not in Cloud Recesses, not required to wear his hair in GusuLan style. When it is finished he turns to see a flourish of red, Wei Ying having used his own ribbon to tie off the braid.

And so it is natural to braid his hair in return, to weave the sacred ribbon that usually rests on his forehead in his hair, leaving the cloud symbol at the top, adorning the top of the braid like a jewel. 

“Your forehead ribbon?” Wei Ying asks, startled, when he catches sight of the very pale blue ribbon tying his hair off.

Lan WangJi cups his cheek in his hand, moving forward until their noses are almost touching.

“Airen, you may touch it.”

A soft smile blossoms on Wei Ying’s face, and he rests his forehead against Lan WangJi’s.

“Airen. I like that,” he breathes.

They stay like that for a while, basking in each other’s presence.

#my fanfiction #the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #chen qing ling #cql #cql fanfic #cql fanfiction #lan zhan #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wen qing #wei ying #lan yuan #wen yuan

[blue-shaded]

Hey Blue. I’m the black anon with the rant. This is my first time submitting something so please can you keep it anonymous:

For the record this is just my personal opinion. And this could apply to a lot of Youtubers and influencers, but this is a Sean discourse blog so I’m only making it about him. Feel free to disagree with any part of it.

For the past few months, I’ve watched Sean copy jump on bandwagon after bandwagon, like Animal Crossing and Siren Head, and run those into the ground. I’ve felt for a while that he’s been doing things for headlines and clout, as his reposting news articles about how much he donated in his streams seem to suggest. I’ve felt like he’s been interviewing these celebrities not because he’s actually interested in journalism, but is interested in the second-hand fame he’ll get from talking to and associating with these people. I say all of this to say that to me it feels his promoting of the BLM movement is just another thing for the him to say he did something good, but let me explain:

I’m black. I do NOT speak for all black people, I’m only speaking for myself and my opinion. I do not call myself an African American because I personally feel like that should be reserved for people who’s parents or family are from Africa and have connections with their African heritage. That’s not the case for me. My family has lived in America for generations and I have no connection to my ancestors’ African roots, so for me calling myself African American feels disingenuous and honestly like another way for black people to feel different from other Americans in this country. So I’m just black. A black American.

I’m 21 now, but I was 13 when the death of Trayvon Martin really sparked the BLM movement. I was absolutely distraught when his murderer was acquitted of his crimes, because it confirmed to me that black people, teenagers like myself at that, could be killed with impunity. It was a very painful awakening for me and it hasn’t gotten any easier to digest. Since then the BLM movement has been ongoing. There’s been marches, peaceful protests, walk outs, “die ins”, petitions and everything for the past 8 years, flaring up whenever another unarmed black person was unjustly killed, such Eric Garner, Sandra Bland, Philando Castile, Alton Sterling, Tamar Rice, and most recently George Floyd, and that’s just to name a few. My point is, there has been plenty of opportunities for Sean to get involved in the movement but he never said anything before now about it, and I’ve been watching him since 2015. That’s not necessarily a bad thing (it’s better people start supporting BLM at some point rather than not at all) but he’s putting himself on a pedstal already for it when this has been going on while ALSO condemning people for talking about his girlfriend’s racist remarks. It doesn’t add up.

And let me be clear. Racism against all races needs to be eradicated in all of its forms. We’re rightfully focusing on black people right now, but that doesn’t mean we should ignore the racism other races face. The same racist ideology that leads Gab to say what she said about Japanese people (and allows her to hide it) is the same ideology employed against black people. I understand that the BLM movement is bigger now than it has ever been before. I understand many new people are finally waking up to the reality of black lives in America and around the world. I appreciate that and all of the support that BLM has been getting lately. It’s been a slow, uphill battle just to get people to see and understand what’s been happening to black people especially in America. But racism is global and unlearning that racism has to be fundamental. Sean’s latest post and his condescending tone in it is not it. It was actually insulting to me that he tried to shame people for their legitimate criticisms of him and Gab right now when he seemingly JUST got on board with the movement. Like, yeah Jack people have BEEN suffering, thanks for finally feeling like it’s worth talking about since it’s been a trending topic for the past week. I’ve BEEN afraid for the lives of my dad, brother, nephew, uncles, and cousins for a very long time. I was actually pleasantly surprised he mentioned anything about it at all on his Twitter, but the more I thought about it and his recent actions, and his refusal to call out Gab for her racist comments toward the Japanese, the more the stuff on Twitter did not feel really genuine. The more it felt like Sean was still missing the point despite his donations and retweets, and understanding the point is CRUCIAL. Don’t get me wrong, donations and support are great, but it takes more than that to really fix this problem. It takes understanding and a commitment to dismantle racist ideology. Not to mention its crazy his first mention of anything BLM related on Tumblr is an angry call out post against tea blogs. Like if someone only followed him on Tumblr and no other social media, that’s all they see from him even though people have been posting helpful stuff here too.

I agree with you, Blue, it’s not enough to just think about it as black vs white, but as racism vs anti racism, in all of its forms, even it’s blatant and it’s more casual forms. I know Sean probably doesn’t like to have stuff thrown back in his face (nobody likes that), but what he should have done is faced it, owned up to it, and apologized. Especially now while everyone is on the topic of racism. I would have been genuinely impressed if Sean had admitted to trying to ignore and hide Gab’s racist remarks or being ashamed about them and actually apologized for it. But instead he double downed on it being us just hating on him, fueling a “petty hate agenda” which tells me he has not really learned anything from the past week of unrest. Recognizing your personal involvement in enabling racism and vowing not to do it anymore is a part of the process towards real change. Teaching others to dismantle their own biases is part of the process. Any other reaction is part of the problem.

Let me conclude this by saying to everyone it is great if you support BLM, no matter if you’ve been supporting from the beginning or just started yesterday. Trying to understand is the first step towards progress. Honest, genuine support is always helpful and welcomed, but don’t just do it because it’s trending right now. Please work to learn how prevalent racism is and how it affects many aspects of society. Black people have to live with this reality every day and no other race should have to deal with it either. I’m at least glad Sean has said and done something to help BLM as opposed to not doing anything at all. But he, like other white people, have to realize that they are capable of doing or enabling racist things, even if they aren’t racist themselves. By refusing to address Gab’s comments and trying to hide it and pretending it doesn’t exist, makes them a part of the problem. Even if they’ve talked about it and agreed it was bad in private, the apology should be just as loud as the disrespect was. And then having the audacity to try to shame other people for speaking up about that is really baffling coming from someone who’s seemingly first act to truly combat racism was a few days ago.

I know Sean wants to be known for fighting for what’s right, but don’t do it because of the accolades or praise you might get for being on the right side of a movement. Don’t do it for the headlines or be able to brag about your donations. Do it to understand, like really understand. Do it to actually dismantle the racism that may surround you. Do it because it’s the right thing to do.

#submission #anonymous submission #read its important! #jacksepticeye

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Last night, I wrote a post about how Simon Amstell has a public obsession with Ben Wishaw that might end with Wishaw locked in Amstell’s basement. I learned this by spending a few days watching almost all the stuff Simon Amstell has done since Buzzcocks. When I read in some YouTube comments that the actor he goes on about in his stand-up set is clearly Ben Wishaw, I recognized the name but couldn’t place who he was. So I looked Ben Wishaw up. I recognized him from a mini-series I watched a few years ago (A Very English Scandal), and vaguely remembered him from another show I watched a bunch of years ago (The Hour).

Today, I started on the next two things I had on my list to watch. One is the last in my series of Armando Iannucci things: the movie A Personal History of David Copperfield. The other is the show Nathan Barley. Both of those feature Ben Wishaw. I didn’t know he was in either of them until he appeared on the screen and I said, “Oh shit, that’s the guy I looked up on Wikipedia yesterday.”

In Simon Amstell’s stand-up set, he tells a story about how he once ran into Ben Wishaw in a store, and was convinced that Ben appeared there because Simon had been thinking about him so much that he basically summoned the object of his thoughts (like in The Secret). I thought that was bullshit yesterday, but today I have to admit he might be onto something. I had not thought about Ben Wishaw before yesterday, then I write a post about him, and suddenly he appears on two things I’m watching in one day. It’s possible that all forms of spiritual beliefs are bullshit except for Simon Amstell’s belief that thinking about Ben Wishaw can cause him to be in one’s life. Turns out the message in The Secret is true, but it only works to summon one very specific person.

Thinking about that also made me think more about that post I made yesterday, and feel vaguely self-conscious about the hypocrisy of suggesting Simon Amstell is being weird for telling stories about his obsession with an actor in a post in which I declared that I have downloaded, watched, and uploaded the collected works of Simon Amstell for anyone else who wants to watch them. Also, I wrote that post on a blog I have dedicated to talking about celebrities.

So here is my defense for that. 1) I don’t write this shit under my real name, because I understand it’s weird that I spend so much time talking about particular famous people. 2) I am not a well-known person and this is not a well-known blog, and the chances of anyone personally connected to those actual famous people ever seeing this are very slim. 3) Most importantly, I am not going to meet any of these people and do not run in their circles. They’re basically fictional characters to me. If I wanted to kidnap Ben Wishaw and keep him in my basement, I wouldn’t be able to because I wouldn’t even know where to find him. Simon Amstell probably knows, though.

(I actually put a small amount of thought into whether writing the words “If I wanted to kidnap Ben Wishaw and keep him in my basement” was worth being able to make a mildly amusing point – I decided to go for it, but please don’t take that sentence out of context. I promise there is no one in my basement except my roommate. Probably. I don’t actually know who’s in my basement, as I haven’t been back to my place in a while. So if there are any British comedians locked in there, that’s my roommate’s fault.)

For the above reasons, I feel like it isn’t really fair to compare Simon Amstell’s crush on Ben Wishaw to my various celebrities crushes. But I do have a situation that I think is more analogous to that. In real life, I’m quite involved in a sport as a coach. This isn’t a very popular sport in my country, so its community is comparatively small. Most people who are part of this sport (coaches, athletes, referees) at know of each other, even if they don’t all personally know every other person in the community.

There are some people in the sport who are really good at it, whom I think are particularly cool for a variety of reasons (ie. they’ve won some competitions in ways that really impressed me, I’m a fan of the particular style with which they practice our sport, they’ve done good things for the sport even aside from winning competitions, they have a reputation for being cool in person… and yeah, sometimes them being physically attractive also comes into it if I’m going to get star-struck with these people), whom I see around at events and have maybe spoken to briefly but I don’t really know them. I feel like I can make a fairly accurate comparison between that and Simon’s stories about Ben Wishaw.

I actually related to a bunch of Simon’s stories along those lines. He tells this story about seeing Ben in a store, freaking out, trying to compliment him on his work and being really awkward about it, wanting to exchange e-mails and get to know him but mostly fucking up the encounter. I have definitely been there. I can think of a number of occasions when I have met someone from my sporting community in person after being a fan of them as an athlete for a long time. Much awkwardness ensues. I remember one particular occasion when I was at a bar with a bunch of other people who were in town for a tournament that was the next day. Someone introduced me to this guy I’d never met before, but I’d seen all his matches on YouTube and thought he was amazing. I was a bit drunk so I forgot to play it cool and I just started excitedly listing the guy’s stats. My friend ushered me away from him before I could embarrass myself more. At the tournament the next day, he gave me some weird looks and I avoided him. The lesson: never meet your heroes, but if you’re going to meet your heroes, try to be sober enough to play it somewhat cool and not freak them out.

(...That guy is not in my basement either, to be clear. I mean technically he might be, he is friends with my roommate, due to the fact that my roommate is a member of this community who’s far cooler than I am. But he lives about five hours away and there’s a lockdown so I certainly hope he’s not there.)

I enjoyed Simon’s story about getting all star-struck when meeting Ben Wishaw in a store, because it reminded me of times when similar things have happened to me. But when I meet people like that, I try really hard to hide how excited I am to meet them. Later on I excitedly tell close friends about the experience, but that’s it. I don’t post about it on the internet under my real name, knowing the person in question will see it. I maintain that that is weird. And that, for the reasons stated in this post, I am not a hypocrite for thinking it’s weird despite writing this blog.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. By the way, The Personal History of David Copperfield was fine, even pretty good, but I liked Death of Stalin better. I think it’s a movie that would appeal to people who have a greater appreciation than I do for well-crafted cinematography. Nathan Barley, however, is awesome. It was made in 2005, and Ben Wishaw is just one of the many actors in it whom I recognize from things he’s done since; there’s also Julian Barrett, Noel Fielding, Richard Ayoade, Nina Sosanya, the woman who played Emma in The Trip movies, and hilariously, Benedict Cumberbatch. Not to mention Chris Morris and Charlie Brooker somehow capturing the exact cultural mood of 2005 while also predicting the future with frightening accuracy.

#tw: alcohol mention

[nour386]

Ballad of the Past

My gift to @lyeox for the @pinesconessecrets 2019 event! I apologise for the wait. I hoe you enjoy your youtuber au.

(also on ao3!)

“It’s so beautiful.” Dipper’s fingers trembled as they neared the golden plaque. “If I were to die right now, I would have no regrets.”

“Hey! No dying yet. You still owe me dinner.” Wirt placed his hands on his hips. 

The pair stood in Dipper’s bedroom, hastily cleaned for their impromptu recording. Dipper had just received his 1 million subscriber award. The golden plaque had arrived that very morning, and every person and cryptid within a 3 mile radius was made well aware of its delivery. But in this present moment, Dipper was hoping to let his fans know how grateful he was for their help in reaching this milestone.

Dipper pressed his finger to his lips. “Hush, I’m celebrating.”

“This is what I have to deal with.” Wirt said. He turned to the camera at the foot of the bed and pointed to his boyfriend, who had started to weep over the golden plaque.

“I’d like to thank the academy,” Dipper sobbed.

“Okay, we’re going to cut recording for now. Dipper needs some time,” Wirt said. “See you guys in a few minutes. Or an hour if his uncle sees the gold plaque and tries to pawn it off.”

Wirt clicked off the recording and turned to his boyfriend. “Are you feeling okay?” “Yeah, yeah, I just need a second.” Dipper wiped his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I thought you were just being dramatic.” Wirt withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket. He gently pressed it against Dipper’s cheek, wiping away his tears. 

“I’m fine.  No, really.” Dipper took the handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “I haven’t been able to cry properly for years.” “Yeah…that doesn’t sound anywhere near the definition of fine.” Wirt crossed his arms.

“Don’t get your antlers in a twist.” Dipper punched Wirt’s arm. 

“Rude!” Wirt gasped.

“Says the man who speaks in demonic tongues when he stubs his toe.” Dipper stuck out his tongue.

 Wirt stomped his foot. “Your cabinet is made of redwood! It hurts!”

“Well, good to know what the biggest weakness of a tree demon is.” Dipper rolled his eyes.

“I refuse to be insulted this way,” Wirt said.

“How would you prefer to be insulted then?” Dipper smirked.

“Not at all. Thank you very much.” Wirt sat down heavily on the bed, making Dipper jump.

“Guess these are sticks in the mud then.” Dipper tugged at Wirt’s antlers.

“That tears it.”

Wirt tackled Dipper onto the mattress. He mercilessly tickled the other boy, smirking wickedly as Dipper begged for mercy between giggles. Dipper tried to fight back, but Wirt was wiggly, like a palm in a hurricane.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Dipper cried between giggles.

Wirt stopped his assault, giving his boyfriend a chance to catch his breath. Dipper took  this moment to attack Wirt back. Reaching under his boyfriend's arm and tickling his sides. 

“That isn’t fair!” Wirt gasped. “You gave up.” “All’s fair in love and war,” Dipper grinned. He decided to grant Wirt some mercy and got off the bed. 

“That has to be illegal,” Wirt said after a few deep breaths.

“Under the Geneva Convention, probably, but in the Pines house hold it certainly isn’t.” Dipper stuck out his tongue.

“Ugh, my own boyfriend assaulting me in my time of need.” Wirt rolled over, turning his head away in faux disgust. “I knew I should have stayed in the forest.”

“Sour puss.” Dipper flicked Wirt’s ear before sitting back down onto the bed. 

He laid the plaque on his lap.  Inside the rectangular frame was the Youtube logo, a play button. Below were the words, warded to Cryptid Hunters Anonymous for passing 1,000,000 subscribers”. Not to mention the most important detail: it was entirely made of gold. Dipper gently ran his hand over it. The cool metal reflected his own teary eyed grin.

“So, do you have any plans for your big one mil commemorative video?” Wirt asked. He sat up and rested his chin on Dipper’s shoulder. “A special cryptid hunt? A behind the scenes tour?”

“Bleh, I’ve already shown my recording equipment. Although, I guess I could try an AMA for the multibear. He seemed to enjoy the interview last time.” Dipper furrowed his brow.

“What about unreleased hunts?” Wirt asked, wrapping his arms around Dipper’s waist.

“I already posted everything,” Dipper said. “Well...there is one. But, um...”

“Yes? What’s the problem? It can’t be the video, you’re a wonder on your laptop.” Wirt flourished his hand. “You colourised an old video that was dyed grey from those monochrome goblins.”

“It’s not that.  I did need to replace the camera after that one, though. And funnily enough, I also couldn't edit the footage whatsoever.” Dipper shrugged awkwardly. “I guess it’d be easier to show you. But you have to promise to not make fun of me.”

“Dipper, please. I would never. I’m a respectable tree monster.” Wirt nuzzled into Dipper’s neck. “Besides, I watched your earlier videos. I’ve seen you at your worst. How bad can  it be?”

Dipper brought his laptop to the bed. With a couple of clicks, he opened up the video he had hidden away from the public eye. He gave a heavy sigh as he sat back and cuddled up to Wirt.

“So, remember when we met up at that cafe on Fifth Street for the first time?” Dipper asked. “And how you said it was really lucky that I decided to sit next to you that day?”

“Yes, I remember Mabel waving to you from across the cafe and pushing us to spending the day together.” Wirt tapped his chin.

“It worked out, didn’t it?” Dipper grinned. “You even said yes to a date with me by the end of it.” 

“What could I say? You were adorable. Especially when you snuck looks at that script you wrote on a napkin,” Wirt teased. “Who even does that?”

“Someone worth dating, quite obviously.” Dipper raised his nose in pride.

“C’mon, start it up, Francis Ford Coppola.” Wirt nudged him with his elbow.

“Fine, fine.” Dipper reached forward and started up the video.

The screen was dim. A squelching noise came out of the laptop’s speakers as the image focused on the muddy ground. Leaves lay strewn all across the forest floor while Dipper detailed his goal for that day’s hunt. Mabel occasionally called out her opinions to ‘lessen the nerdiness,’ as she phrased it.

“It’s been raining really heavily for the past few days, so I decided to check out if this affect anything in the forest. I mean obviously it would, it’s not like rain was invented yesterday.”

He kept talking, leaves squelching underfoot as he walked.

“I know the gnomes are probably not too happy about this. They had an outdoor barbeque planned for today. They handed out invites and everything.” Dipper flashed a crudely drawn greeting card. It showed a crayon drawing of a short man with a pointy red hat and a white apron standing behind a smoking red barbeque. 

“But no one shows up to their barbeques!” Mabel’s distinctly cheerful could be heard behind the camera.

Dipper turned the camera to show his sister sticking out her tongue. “When the only thing on the menu is pinecone, roast pinecone, and pine cone steak, I doubt you’d have crowds flocking over.” 

“Maybe they’d have more people come if they didn’t kidnap people all the time,” Mabel teaseded. 

Dipper turned the camera around and continued his hike through the woods. He would occasionally stop to point out different tracks and markings he came across. Mabel would drop in a comment or two, often at her twin’s expense. After concluding that the venture was uneventful, the pair agreed to head back.

“Dipper, if it starts raining on me and my hair gets ruined. I will never forgive you,” Mabel said from off screen.

“Let me just check that next clearing.” 

“Fine, only because I know you need the exercise,” Mabel teased.

The camera was pointed at the clearing in question. It looked rather dark, much like the rest of the woods, thanks to the dark clouds above. As Dipper neared, a figure came into view, standing in the centre of the clearing.

“Hey, I see something over here!” Dipper cried, walking further into the clearing. 

Before him stood a wooden statue of a gnome no taller than his knee, including the hat. The statue’s face was caught half way through a scream of terror, mouth openwide, eyes half closed andarms raised defensively.

“Is it petrified?” Dipper tapped the statue with his finger. “It’s too detailed to be handmade.”

“Dipper, look out!” Mabel’s voice was distant.

Before he could realise what his sister meant, Dipper bumped into someone he hadn’t noticed. The camera fell to the ground, pointing upwards, showing a tall, shadowy figure with antlers that seemed to meld with the branches of the trees above. They stared Dipper down with shining eyes.

“Oh no, he’s hot,” Dipper muttered just before he was dragged out of shot. “Wait no the camera!”

“Camera later. Staying alive now!” Her voice faded out.

The creature looked down at the camera before the picture cut to black.

“And that was that,” Dipper said. He did jazz hands.

“That...oh, no.” Wirt rested his head in his hand. “Oh cheese and crackers. Please tell me I didn’t chase after you.”

“No, we got back to the Shack safely. The camera, on the other hand, showed up on our doorstep a week later, covered in oil with the SD card being the only thing still intact.” Dipper rubbed the back of his head. “This footage was kinda messed up, so I couldn’t really edit out that last comment at the end there. So I kinda shelved it.”

“Oh no. I can’t believe this is happening right now.” Wirt’s face was now completely buried in his hands. “Please just kill me now.” 

“Sorry, fresh out of holy water,” Dipper said. “So, um you wanna explain what was going on there?”

“Okay, so long story short, I was working off some steam and petrified a gnome in the woods.” Wirt had laid back on the bed.

“Wait, that was an actual gnome?” Dipper asked. “You just petrified someone?”

“He was a fairy dust dealer.” Wirt rolled his eyes. “It was a moral freebie.”

“Right.” Dipper didn’t sound convinced. “And why were you so peeved?” “Oh my gosh you would not believe.” Wirt sat up fingers rubbing his temples. “Alright so, the elves in the wood hold a poetry competition once every 5 years. So I enter, all wide-eyed and hopeful thinking that my poetry has a chance of making it in, right?” Dipper laid back, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s enthusiastic narration. A soft smile spread across his face as he leaned against Wirt.

Wirt started waving his arms as he spoke. “I walk up to the stage, my nerves making me feel sick after waiting 3 hours for my turn. I stand up with my ballad. I had spent months writing, re-writing, re-writing again and re-writing one more time for luck. Not to mention rehearsals. And then after sitting through the extravaganza of elvish poetry, which can last for days at a time, I leave the competition wish last place! The judges said my entry was ‘too short’.”

“What was an acceptable length? 2 weeks?” Dipper chuckled.

“Apparently! “ Wirt threw up his arms. “I thought for sure I would have scored higher than the one elf who just stood there and gave a failed improv routine. He didn’t even rhyme! Not even once! And he somehow left with third place.” 

Dipper leaned over and lightly pecked Wirt’s cheek. “I would have given you first place.”

“You’re my boyfriend. That would be cheating.”

“How about you read your poem to me and I’ll judge it,” Dipper said. 

“Interesting.” Wirt tapped his chin. “It would give me the opportunity to show off my prowess. Sure, why not. I’ll be back in a few.”

As he watched his boyfriend scurry out the door; Dipper smiled fondly. He grateful for that fateful day in the woods. And while he made himself comfortable in bed, he wondered if he could have poetry reading be his one million subscriber special. His fans were interested in his love life, so maybe a small preview wouldn’t hurt.

#Pinescone #Pinescone Secret santa #Dipper #Dipper Pines #Wirt #OTGW #GF

[eldritchsurveys]

834.

How have you been feeling lately? Have you been doing ok? >> Eh. As long as nothing unpredictable happens, I’m mostly fine... but I’ve also had at least two meltdowns in the past week, so “mostly fine” is obviously a cover-up of some sort. I don’t really know what to do about it, so I am kind of just holding my breath through every day, hoping I don’t lose it over something trivial.

Are you currently in quarantine? >> No, the stay-at-home order has been lifted. Still not really going anywhere, though.

Do you wear a mask when you go to the store? >> We didn’t this past weekend, which I don’t feel great about, but I ordered a bandana yesterday so I’ll hopefully have it before this coming weekend.

Does your state require people to wear masks in stores? >> Well, they say they require it, but we were definitely not the only people in stores without masks on. So I don’t know what the deal is with that. I think maybe stores are weighing how much it’s worth having to deal with irate customers who can’t stand being turned away for not complying with the mask rule (Michigan is, after all, the state where armed protesters stormed the capitol building to harass the governor for extending the stay-at-home order...). Regardless, now that I will actually have a face covering next time, I’m going to use it.

Do you know anyone who's had the coronavirus? >> No.

What was the last sweet treat you ate? >> I ate part of a lemon coconut cookie.

Was it a nice day out today? >> It’s pretty nice, yeah.

Is the weather nice where you live usually? >> Usually? I wouldn’t say that. Winter lingers around here for a long time, and winter does not usually bring pleasant weather (in my opinion). Also, we get a lot of wacky lake-effect weather.

What was the last thing you ordered online? >> A bandana. It has a Baphomet on it, heh.

Are you expecting a package right now? >> Well, yeah, the bandana. Should be here Thursday or Friday (it’d better be, considering I paid extra for quicker shipping).

Have you ever ordered anything from Wish? If so, what did you buy, and did you feel it was worth it? >> I haven’t, but Sparrow’s ordered stuff from them. I think she likes everything she’s gotten (although she hasn’t gotten everything she’s ordered, which is annoying).

Are you a youtuber? If so, are you consistent with uploads? and how many subscribers do you have? >> I am not, nor would I ever be, a youtuber.

What is one thing you hate about summer? >> Heat waves. I like warmth, but too hot is too hot.

Did you go outside today? >> Not yet.

What is the name of your youtube channel, if you have one? >> ---

What was the name of the last store or restaurant that overcharged you? >> I can’t recall being overcharged anywhere.

Is your room more often messy or clean? >> On the cleaner side than the messier side.

Who is someone you miss? >> ---

What is something you miss? >> ---

Do you feel like your emotions are often haywire? >> I feel like that pretty frequently, yeah. I’m either having no emotions or having a veritable perfect storm of them, and I’d really like to find a fucking balance at some point.

Have you ever received a misdiagnosis from a doctor? >> I’ve mostly received misdiagnoses from doctors.

Have you ever been "diagnosed" with a mental illness from an online friend? who is not a doctor? If yes, isn't that frustrating? >> Nah, I’ve not had that experience.

Do you have any friends that you can trust and tell everything to? >> ---

What was the name of your favorite roommate you've had? >> ---

Do you have a favorite book that you've read multiple times? >> Yeah, there are a few books I’ve read multiple times.

What's one book or book series that you've read multiple times? >> I’ve read Dreamcatcher by Stephen King at least twice.

Have you ever had an embarrassing bathroom accident? >> Yeah.

What was the name of the funniest kid you've ever babysat? >> ---

Do you enjoy babysitting? >> Never done it.

Do you have any big regrets? >> No.

Are there things about your past that bother you? >> I mean... I’m post-traumatic, lmao.

What was the last thing you saw or read on social media that made you angry? >> That doesn’t really happen to me.

Do you often post about controversial topics on facebook? >> I don’t post on facebook at all.

Do you think it's a good idea to post about serious topics on social media? or do you think that it's better to discuss serious topics in person? >> I think that a lot of misunderstanding happens on social media that could possibly be avoided or at least worked through with more efficiency in person. I do say possibly, because like, who knows, really. But there are many discussions I wouldn’t bother getting into on social media (especially where other people can see it and jump in with their two cents), that I might be more willing to discuss one-on-one with a person in a controlled environment. Which is why I hate that people don’t use IM/DM functions more often for working through sensitive topics (like “I have a problem with something you said in [x] post and I would like to work it out with you” or whatever), instead of turning it into a public fucking debate.

What was your favorite book you had to read for school? >> Their Eyes Were Watching God.

Have you ever failed a class and had to repeat it? >> No, I got no credit for a class and had to repeat it.

What class in school did you hate the most? >> All of them lmao

Have you ever wanted to be a teacher? >> Fuck no.

What's one childhood dream that has stuck with you, and one that has not? >> ---

Would you want to re-live your childhood over again if you could? >> FUCK NO.

Which do you like more: being an adult or being a kid? >> I vastly prefer being an adult where I have at least some semblance of agency and control over my own life, instead of being subject to the whims of people who don’t actually care about what I want or need or feel but are mostly thinking about what they want out of me.

At what age were you when you started to feel like you were mature enough to offer others advice? >> I don’t recall having this thought, like, ever. I offer advice when someone’s asked for it and I feel like I have some to offer. I don’t give a fuck what my age is.

Did your parents smoke or drink when you were growing up? >> No.

Do you enjoy bonfires? >> Yes.

Have you ever stepped on a sparkler? >> No.

What, do you know of, are you allergic to? >> Nothing.

Have you ever ridden in an ambulence? >> Yep, front and back.

What is your favorite version of the Bible to read, if applicable? >> I prefer the NIV for just regular reading, but ngl, the KJV has some turns of phrase that can be really poetic-sounding in certain verses.

Do you follow trends? or are you a trendsetter? >> Literally neither. I just do what I want.

Has anyone ever described you as a trendsetter? >> No.

Do you know anyone who used to be loving, but then turned cold? List three people you've known whom this has happened to. >> I don’t know anyone like that, which is good, because that is definitely red-flag behaviour.

What SAT subjects, if any, did you get a perfect score in? >> ---

What were your best subjects in school? and what was your favorite subject in school? >> ---

Have you ever been abused by a parent or legal guardian? >> Yes.

Do you have a lot of wounds from your past? >> Nope. Not a single one.

Has anyone ever called you a jerk? >> Probably.

Are you a jerk? >> Probably.

What color were your bedroom walls in high school? >> I assume they were the Nothing(tm) colour that is standard in apartment complexes.

Is there a girl or guy you wish you hadn't let slip away? >> No.

Is there an old friend that you miss and would like to reconnect with? >> No.

Who has hurt you the most? >> Sigh.

Have you been bullied? >> Yes.

Which talent show, if any, would you most like to audition for? and have you auditioned for one? >> I would rather die.

Do you know anyone who's auditioned for American Idol? >> No, but I know someone who auditioned for X Factor, which is largely the same concept.

Is there someone you think should audition that hasn't yet? >> No. I don’t think anyone should audition for those stupid ass shows.

What time of day do you usually feel your best? >> There is no time of day when that’s likely to happen. It depends more on my actual mental state than what time of day it is.

What's one way in which you've changed within the last ten years? >> Oh, you know, stuff.

Do you feel like time goes by fast, or slow? >> To me, it just... passes?

Who do you know who has died of cancer? >> No one.

Has there been cancer in your family? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever stayed overnight in a hospital, and if so, what for? >> Yeah. For being suicidal, or for being self-injurious, or because people just plain thought it’d be a fun thing to do to me, I don’t fucking know.

Have you ever been a victim of police misconduct? >> No.

Have you ever been so angry you wanted to sue someone? >> That... would be such a strange response to being angry at someone. For me, anyway. I don’t know, maybe it makes sense to other people. I stick to Old Reliable -- wanting to beat them to a pulp or something.

Have you ever been a victim of racism? >> I mean, probably.

Have you ever deleted a friend on facebook for making racist comments? >> No. Luckily, that’s never happened to me.

What was the last thing you ate? >> Veggie burger and chips.

What was the theme of your senior prom? >> Damned if I remember, that was like 15 years ago.

Did you go to prom? >> Yeah.

Have ever been engaged or married? >> Yeah.

Are you an aunt or uncle? >> Technically.

Do you live to glorify God and to do His will? >> No.

Are you happy with the way you are living your life day-to-day right now? >> I mean, there are worse ways to live. At least I get to decide for myself what I do with my day.

Do you feel like your life was better or worse six years ago? >> It was definitely worse. That’s not even something to question.

Have you ever made a huge, catastrophic mistake? >> I don’t think any of my mistakes qualify for such a dramatic adjective.

What's one need of yours that is currently not being met? >> ---

Do you feel like you are currently in a state of suffering? and that not all of your basic needs are being met? If so, how long have you been in a state of suffering? >> Not that kind of suffering, no -- I’ve been in that state, where most of my basic needs were not at all being met, and I’m very grateful to not have to live like that anymore. Unfortunately, living like that for extended periods of time tends to have lasting effects, which is [part of] what I’m dealing with right now.

Do you hate social injustice? >> Nah, I love it. It’s just great. It’s the best thing ever--

Are you happy with the current social class you are in? >> I’m in that strange limbo where I, as an individual, am poverty-class, but since I am part of a household where the other person works a relatively okay job for a living, I get the benefits of being working-class. We’re still low-income by modern urban standards, though. Anyway, I’m fine with that for the most part, but that’s also because I’m used to being literally penniless so anything is better than that.

Do you feel like you are being given what you deserve right now? >> What the fuck do I deserve? What does that even mean? No one owes me anything.

Life isn't fair. True or false? >> I mean, true, I guess.

Do you hate that life is so unfair? >> I don’t really think about life that way. It’s people who have the option to be fair or unfair (and who have the option to perceive of things as fair or unfair); life is just... life.

Name a few people who seem to have everything handed to them. >> I don’t know anyone like that.

Who do you go to when you're upset? >> Can Calah.

Do you pray less or more than you did 5 years ago? >> I didn’t pray then and I don’t pray now, so... the same.

Do you pray a lot? >> No.

Do you frequently have back pain? >> No.

What's the worst side effect you've experienced for a medication? and what's the worst withdrawal effect you've experienced from a medicine? >> The last time I recall having side effects to medications is when I was being put on various psychiatric drugs as a teenager, but I don’t really remember any of the specifics except... being exhausted all the time (because I remember falling asleep in classes and being reprimanded for it like I’m doing it on fucking purpose).

Have you ever used an epi pen? >> No.

What's a name that you like but probably wouldn't use for one of your kids? >> ---

What's you name, and do you like it? >> Mordred. Of course I do.

Would you prefer to give your kids common names or unique names? >> ---

Do you feel like anybody values you in the way that you deserve? >> There’s that word deserve again. Anyway, yes, I’m sure someone values me well enough. Probably.

Who have you felt the most valued by? >> I guess Sparrow values me, or we wouldn’t be married. That’s how that works, right?

Have you ever been treated like you were inferior? >> Yes.

What was the name of the biggest bully in your high school? >> ---

Do you ever sleep outside? >> I’ve slept outside before, yes.

How many siblings do you have? >> ---

Are you the oldest, youngest, middle, or only child? >> I was raised as the only child in the household. I was the youngest of my father’s children.

How many kids do you want to have? >> Zero, ideally.

Do you want to get married? >> It’s already been done.

Best date you've been on? >> ---

Dream date? >> ---

Ever kissed someone on New Year's? >> Yeah.

Have you ever had an experience so good you felt like you were flying? >> Probably.

Have you ever been in so much pain you prayed that you would die? >> Yep.

What brings you the most joy? >> Uh... hmm. Good question. I’ll get back to you on that. Someday.

What is your passion; what is it that would bring you the most joy and fulfillment in life? >> I don’t think I have any passions.

Have you ever laid your dreams aside because someone else wanted you to? >> Well, fortunately for everyone else, I don’t really have any dreams.

Who supports you in everything you do? >> Sparrow is pretty supportive when I bother to do stuff.

Who always tries to stop you whenever you try to go after your dreams? >> ---

Do you believe in following your heart, in going after your dreams? >> I think that if someone has a dream, then sure, they should try to see it through. But I also think that sometimes it just ain’t worth it. It’s up to the person to make that determination, though, not me. Personally, I don’t really know what it’s like to have a dream, so it’s not like I can relate or anything.

Do you wish other people would want you to be happy? >> I don’t think people want me to suffer or anything. I think that in general, people aren’t really thinking about me at all.

Do you wish you had someone who loved and supported you? >> I do. I wish I had the capacity to feel loved and supported.

#surveys #survey #random survey

[julietstar]

Late Night Worries - KTH

I’m tired of being what you want me to be - ‘Numb’ Linkin Park

The remnants of screams echoed in the empty and dim-lit room as Taehyung rewatched the concert cam. The energy seemed to pulse through his screen as he watched the twentieth fan cam he found on YouTube. He knew he shouldn’t have been making himself miserable, but to be honest, Taehyung knew he was past that period. He felt numb. After all, it was now three AM, and he was still watching concert videos. He didn’t care if he was rehashing the same concerts, just with different city names in the titles. The songs being sung getting muffled over all the loud bass and cheers.

The door cracked open, and a head of pink hair peeked through, squinting towards the figure hunched over their phone. Jimin looked over at his best friend, who was currently sniffling while watching videos. Moments prior, Jimin didn’t know why he had woken up. Grabbing his phone to check the time, only to temporarily blind himself. The phone was lighting up the room, causing a very frustrated grumble to come from Jin. Quickly clicking his phone back off, Jimin decided to leave the room and get some water from the kitchen, which leads him to see Tae’s room door with light coming from underneath.

Stumbling sleepily over to his friend, he glanced over to notice that Yoongi’s bed looked untouched, which probably meant he was still in the studio. Focusing back on Taehyung, he hit the edge of the bed, nearly falling over onto him. “Are you still awake? Tae, you should be asleep!” He whispered at the boy, causing the said boy to jump and fumble to hide his phone.

“I-I was just checking something.” Taehyung quickly tried to cover for his apparent panic, trying to place his phone under his pillow. Jimin instantly crawled onto the bed and snatched said phone before Taehyung could put it under the pillow.

“What were you looking at?” Jimin snickered at his best friend’s panic, immediately swatting the hands away from trying to get back the device.” Something sexy?”

“N-no, Minnie, give it back!” Taehyung tried to whisper but came out louder due to him panicking. He didn’t want Jimin to look at the video, feeling the crushing embarrassment start to rise in his chest. He nearly was ready to wrestle the boy as he watched Jimin speed type in his password. “What the hell? I changed it literally yesterday?! How’d you-“

“Tae, you’re my best friend, and we’re basically psychically connected. It wasn’t that hard to guess it’d be something along the lines of ‘YeontanIsTheBestestBoy’” Jimin joked as he opened the phone. At the same time, Taehyung paused his flailing in disbelief.

“No way you guessed that!”

“What? Are you saying I’m not smart?” Jimin looked over at the black-haired boy and raised an eyebrow. Only for Taehyung to copy the action. The silence stretched for a moment, and Jimin sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Kookie saw you type it and told me you changed it…Dick.” Jimin swore softly at the end, which caused Taehyung to let out a quick laugh. “Now, what video were you watching?”

“Stop Ji-“

The loud sounds of the concert burst through the phone’s speakers once again, even with the low volume. The beginning sounds of Stigma played on the screen. Jimin was even more curious, exiting out of the full screen to see the YouTube title. “Tae, were you watching-“

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I was watching concert videos. It’s just that-“Taehyung started but trailed off, feeling his throat close up again. Jimin paused the video again and sat up to face Taehyung, noticing the tear tracks on his face.

“Oh Tae,” Jimin started, but seeing his expression, he decided to just hug him. Wrapping his arms around the boy, Jimin immediately felt his shoulder’s shake.

Taehyung didn’t know what happened, but he felt the numbness that had seemingly crept into him over the past weeks get ripped away. Only for the fear and sadness that had been underneath to overflow when Jimin hugged him. His sobs felt like they were punching through his rib cage. He tried to catch his breath, but it was like he was stuck in a pit. The shadows of the dimly lit room coming to grab at him, causing him to gasp out and feel as if his life was being sucked out.

“It’s okay, Tae. Let it out. You’re safe, don’t worry.” Jimin soothed, feeling himself get choked up at his friend’s emotional outburst. Everyone was so tense, and while they were busy with everything new coming, it truly felt that they weren’t even allowed to mourn what they lost. Everything put up in the air, and they were supposed to just forget it and move on. All that hard work and tireless months went in a flash of smoke.

“I - I just can’t stop thinking that this is it, y’know. That this is like… it. Every time I look online, it’s like the world is fucking ending and I just-I just feel so lost under the surface of this status. We’re put under this pressure, and I can’t stop thinking that I’ve failed everyone and myself and I-I can’t help anyone. It’s just- fuck Minnie, I just feel fucking numb to it. I’ve become so numb- become so tired to it, and I shouldn’t!” Taehyung choked out quickly, feeling his fears flood out his mouth at a speed even Yoongi would be impressed by. All that had been swirling in his head nonstop. The constant barrage of being told ‘Yes, well after this,’ becoming ‘We don’t know when-‘. All feeding into his fears of genuinely becoming a caged animal. He listened to Jimin continuously telling him to take deep breaths, to match his, and finally feel the panic attack die down.

“I know it’s been hard, but you shouldn’t keep this all in Tae. You have to talk about this,” Jimin pulled back, holding Taehyung’s shoulders. “If we all just keep those thoughts inside, we’ll believe them, but they’re all lies.”

“But how do you know that?” Taehyung urged, feeling that the thoughts were inescapable. He had been trying, listening to his members, reading comments and posts from ARMY helped, but the voice in his head made him question if he was worth it. He felt tired from fighting the urge to hiding under his blankets and forgetting everything in the world.

“Well, I know that because one: I’ll never leave you alone, and I know that the other’s will do the same. Just cause Yoongi complains about my optimism or Jin nagging about you not wanting to go anywhere doesn’t mean they wouldn’t drop anything for either of us. Two: ARMY has stayed with us for breaks longer than this and loves us so much that I sometimes worry I can’t even reciprocate. And like y’know I’m the best at giving love.” Jimin sniffed up, which made Taehyung giggle at his best friend’s attitude. Jimin seeing his smile, made his heart warm, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe the tears that ran down Taehyung’s face and cupping his face. “See, even you see that it’s an insane amount. And… we’ll have to work more in the future, or Tannie will kill us since we’d be around him too much.” Which caused Taehyung to gasp at Jimin’s final statement.

“Excuse you, Tannie would never kill me. Maybe you since last time you nearly tripped him.”

“Tripped him? He ran underneath my feet!”

Both boys laughed, falling backwards on the bed at their ridiculous argument. After the laughter settled, Jimin looked over at Taehyung and saw him with a small smile on his face. It made him smile back up at the ceiling, reaching over and grabbed Taehyung’s hand. “See? Honestly, you ain’t getting rid of any of us that easy.” Jimin started with a matter-of-fact tone.

Taehyung glanced over at Jimin’s smug face. “I guess so.”

“Just think of this as the break between the concert and encore. We’re building antici-“

“Pation!” The boys both yelled, laughing at their stupid joke to only hear the door open and get an RJ flying at their faces.

“I swear to god if you two don’t shut up, the next thing I’m throwing in is the frying pan!” Jin shouted before slamming the door shut, causing another laughing fit amongst the two.

Taehyung grabbed the blanket and threw it over them, as Jimin tossed RJ over onto Yoongi’s bed.

“Night Tae-Tae.”

“Night Minnie…Thanks for checking on me.” Taehyung whispered, snuggling against Jimin.

“That’s what soulmates are for.” Jimin whispered back, both smiling as they fell asleep.

#bts #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts taehyung #bts jimin #taehyung imagine #jimin imagine #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts fanfic #taehyung angst #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #jimin fluff

[oliivverwood]

retweet

marcus/oliver + social media for @rlversongs

LONG POST- idk how to put the keep reading from my phone sorry

--

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial 

Are you ready for thrilling Raptors vs Bucks Eastern Conference Final game 5? Tune in on YouTube 2nite aftergame for play by play analysis + predictions. Watch for live tweets. #NBA #Basketball  

12:00 PM      2,340 likes   1,226 retweets

montyyyyy @grahamcracker

yo @casswarr five dollas on raps making history. wood has been straight sniping this year. bucks have no chance with that offense. #rapsin5

12:48 PM        5 likes 3 retweets

cassius ;) @casswarr

@grahamcracker ur fuckin insane if u think its gonna be easy for the raps. diggory's been an absolute wall this szn. he'll block potter's nasty dunks easy

1:05 PM          4 likes 1 retweets

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Game 5. Tonight. Air Canada Arena. #WeTheNorth

4:00 PM         1,904 likes 837 retweets

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

5 into 1st quarter, Wood from the Raps with the filthy cross on Malfoy, ballhandling like a dream. #NBA #NBAGame5 #Basketball

8:43 PM         734 likes 437 retweets

pants park (marky flints cuzzy) @panzyparkkk

@marcflintofficial im sure handling his balls is your dream ;))

8:50 PM        523 likes 277 retweets

marcus flint for NBA (@marcflintofficial) blocked pants park (marky flints cuzzy) (@panzyparkkk)

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

Potter steals from Diggory, lobs it to Weasley, throws it up to Wood for a dunk on Bole. The Raptors chemistry is off the charts this game. #NBA #NBAGame5 #Basketball

9:22 PM       256 likes 153 retweets

mclaggen the frat god @nolaggingmclaggen

yo why the fuck is flint being so nice about the raps rn. i don't want wood favouritism, i miss asshole flint. talk shit about bole's shitty defense, please. 

10:00 PM   333 likes 457 retweets

oliver wood #0 (@oliverw00dofficial) liked a tweet by mclaggen the frat god (@nolaggingmclaggen)

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Eastern Conference dubs, absolutely ecstatic. See you against the Warriors for NBA finals. #WeTheNorth

11:54 PM   937 likes 765 retweets

HARRY POTTER #3 @harrypottter

to the finalsssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!! #WeTheNorth

11:56 PM      832 likes 655 retweets

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RAPTORS VERSUS BUCKS EASTERN CONFERENCE FINALS (HIGHLIGHTS, PLAY BY PLAY, ANALYSIS) 

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"A tremendous game for the Raptors, starting right off the bat. Bulgarian transfer Viktor Krum started it right from the tipoff, an offense immediately set into play by captain Oliver Wood. The Bucks weren't ready for them to come at them so hard so quickly, which was [redacted] stupid of them, it's the [redacted] Eastern Conference Finals. Diggory did steal from rookie Finnegan, who was lucky to have Wood track back as fast as he did for the defense. Further into the first quarter, Wood executed one of the dirtiest [redacted] crossovers I've ever seen in my two years of working in the NBA. Poor Urquhart didn't stand a chance. He's probably wallowing in the memes being made of him now, bless his heart--no, he deserves it. Urquhart, get it together, set your [redacted] feet."

"The second quarter had the Bucks catch up, with Roger Davies shooting 3 for 4 from the three point line, two assists from Bucks rookie Zach Smith, one from Draco Malfoy. The fourth one bounced off the rim into Wood's hands- his offensive rebounding stats have been crazy--

"The third quarter had Weasley on the boards, dribbling out to the corner and lobbing it to Potter on the fast break, and what a [redacted] fast break it was! If you blinked you would have missed it, which apparently Bole did, blink that is. Potter tosses it up to Wood for a nasty dunk on Bole. Humiliating. I'd never show my face to the world again, if that happened to me."

Pause.

--

Rita Skeeter for TMZ @ritaskeets

Renowned basketball analyser and former NBA player Marcus Flint's cousin, Pansy Parkinson with a shocking tweet during yesterday's game 5. #marcusflint

6:00 AM     4,003 likes   2,692 retweets

Rita Skeeter for TMZ @ritaskeets

This certainly is a strange development. Through injuries, scandals and incidents, Marcus Flint has had quite a life. Learn more in my article on tmz.com/articles/ritaskeeter #marcusflint

6:08 AM      2,455 likes   1,234 retweets

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Excerpt of Marcus Flint Through the Years, by Rita Skeeter for TMZ

Marcus Caradoc Flint, Chicago born and raised and was eventually the first draft pick, going to nowhere else but the Chicago Red Bull's, and evidently changing the team dynamic forever, and for the better. Flint played rough, fouling out of a game dozens of times and racking up the most fines in the league, but it was worth it. He was still skillful, dazzling audiences with his awe striking shots and dunks. He won rookie of the year, finals MVP, and had 2 championship rings, one from his time on the Bulls, the other from his time with the Cleveland Cavaliers. 

Flint was known to be a little violent on the court, some of the more notable players he got in fights with being Roger Davies, Remus Lupin and Oliver Wood, who we'll be discussing later this article. 

Suddenly, injury struck, and Flint could never play basketball again, a freak accident on the court where he was pushed midair, lost his balance and tore his ACL. He was immediately offered a spot on the NBA reporting crew, where he popularised the channel with his calculated analyses and his filthy mouth. The channel ratings shot up, and the rest was history. 

Flint was never out of the spotlight for long. Two years ago, he was seen walking out of the Peninsula New York with Charlie Weasley, New York Knicks, one morning, the two of them awfully close and sharing an embrace before parting ways. This led to speculation about their relationship status and Flint's sexuality. Not long after that, he was photographed leaving The Monster, a gay bar in New York, again, with an unidentified male. 

Recently, Marcus Flint's cousin, Pansy Parkinson,  a well known tattoo artist in Los Angeles replied to Flint's tweets.

Attached: Screenshot of Pansy Parkinson's reply to Marcus Flint,"im sure handling his balls are your dream ;)))*

Is this an indicator of something between Flint and Wood? Our reporters have reached out to all three parties involved for comment.

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mclaggen the frat god @nolaggingmclaggen

broooo that's why flint was sucking woods dick so hard during live tweet. i don't care if the man likes it up the ass i want some CORRECT analysis #marcusflint

12:00 AM   600 likes 236 retweets

cassius ;) @casswarr

wood and the raps have a presser today maybe he'll say smth about the sitch #marcusflint

12:52 PM   132 likes 121 retweets

#WeTheNorthh @torontoraptorsnumber1fan

*Attached: Clip from the Raptors Press Conference. A journalist from Sports Illustrated asks as question directed towards Oliver Wood, captain. "What are your thoughts on the online blowup regarding your status with Marcus Flint?" Oliver has a faint smile. Harry Potter is sniggering behind his hand on the other end of the table. Oliver goes to the mike. "I didn't realise there was a blowup. We gotta prepare for our next game now. See you all then." The entire team gets out and exits. The journalists clamour for their attention, with more questions.*

1:07 PM     4,082 likes   5,239 retweets

gin n tonic @ginnywheezy

y'all saw that cheeky smirk no?? @harrypottter laughing in the corner no??? my big bro @ronwheezy turning bright red NO???? 

1:20 PM        345 likes   233 retweets

marcus flint for NBA (@marcflintofficial), oliver wood #0 (@oliverw00dofficial), HARRY POTTER #3 (@harrypottter), Draco Malfoy (@dracoma1foy), angie johnson (@angelinaj), forge weasley (@georgewheezy), gred weasley (@fredwheezy) liked gin n tonic (@ginnywheezy)'s tweet

--

Instagram

@marcusflintbae

fan account, im in love with marcus flint

Recent Posts:

*Blurry picture of two male figures, seemingly joined by the hand. One of them is brunette, the other black haired. Both tall. One is dressed in a grey tracksuit and clunky basketball shoes, the other in a pressed white shirt and black pants, tie looseness. They are smiling - the photo is too blurry to specify exactly who it is.

marcusflintbae this is obviously marcus flint and oliver wood, that's the tea. im so jealous of wood ugh. 

Posted 1 hour ago

Liked by ginnywheeze, percyweasley, panspark, terhiggs, adrianpuc3y, k8iebell, hazzapotter, fredwheeze and 2943 others

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Private Chat between Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint

oliver wood: marcus ur an idiot

marcus flint: how is this my fault

oliver wood: u were too nice to me on highlight analysis

oliver wood: and u forgot to tell parkinson that we're not public yet 

marcus flint: well u should be happy u wanted to go public like six months ago

oliver wood: nOT LIKE THIS

oliver wood: let's announce it on twitter we've let them suffer long enough 

marcus flint: don't use the photo that im wearing the purple tie in

marcus flint: it's ugly 

oliver wood: you are in no position to be making demands

oliver wood: im not going to use a photo, i love you, I'll call you later

marcus flint: love u too babe

--

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

I'm dating Oliver Wood. I'm not biased to the raptors at all, don't tell him but I actually bet on the Warriors. #NBAFinals

9:03 PM   608,767 likes 438,898 retweets

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Marcus Flint and I have BEEN dating. Keep up. He fr didn't bet on us. If you stop watching him I'll request a trade. Joking. Not really. #NBAFinals

9:06 PM     453,738 likes 234,725 retweets

#hp #text #flintwood #harry potter #oliver wood #flintwoodnet #hprarepairnet #marcus flint #flintwood fic #slytherdornet #slytherin #hprarepair #my writing #writing #slytherdor #ao3feed #flintwood squad #ez tag #fic #hpnet #marcus flint x oliver wood #oliivverwood #flintwoodfic #hpfic #SADIE + REQUESTS #Long post

[aceadmiral]

Tell Me What You See

One thing I really like about the way @asexualjournal is run is that even though the whole volume comes out at one time, the editor spotlights a different article with a different pull-out quote every week so that it stays top of mind and can be easier to digest.

The other week I saw a quote that ignited my curiosity, that the “right person” is the right person for a reason. Yes, I thought, this is an idea I’d like to read about. This is something that could really be fleshed out, could be a pithy way of pushing back on one of the most frequent responses we get.

The article was a first-person account of an awkward situation where the narrator is trapped in a car with a driver who bulldozes over the author without any thought given to the idea that her idea of a good relationship and the author’s might just be different.

I want to be clear: it wasn’t a bad article. As I was reading it, though, the penny finally dropped for me why it is I don’t actually read much of The Asexual, why I am more and more frequently disappointed with Carnival of Aces entries, why Twitter makes me so frustrated.

I read and I read and I get to the end and think, “what’s the point?” I know the answer, though. They are recounting this experience to have others say, “yes, that happened to me too.” To make an environment where others can say, “I recognize this feeling.”

The point is for the author to be seen.

--Wait, let me back up.

Last spring I watched all of my man Gerald on Shortland Street. No, I don’t mean I re-watched for the umpteenth time the bits that have been up thanks to Ace Hero SootmouthNZ for 8+ years. I mean I watched every second he was on the screen.

It started as an offhand comment to my girlfriend--who of course had no idea it even existed--but as I was going through collecting the links, I noticed how all of the episodes of Shortland Street are on YouTube now. But like often happens to me, a whim turns into an obsession.

I was watching late into the night for weeks, going to work every day exhausted and not quite sure what I was doing. It was interesting to see the bits both before and after the “Asexuality Storyline” vids, especially because I was vaguely aware at how mad people were at the time over the “gay representation” being pulled out from under them, but also because after asexuality-as-a-plot ended, he was still around. Being a person.

It was right here that I realized why I felt the need to go back to this show for the umpteenth time right at this point in my life: I was trying to be in a relationship as an asexual person for the first time, and I needed to see it could be done. Even though I’d been over it again and again in my own fiction, someone else’s fiction made it more tangible. Someone else’s character standing in a kitchen ripping into a homophobe--I could take courage from that.

I know what it’s like to need to see, and I know what it’s like to be seen, but. But.

When I was in 3rd grade, I lived just down the street from my school; Google Maps tells me it was 10 houses away. Because it was a side entrance, there were rarely any people or cars around, especially when I was walking home. But if I heard a car coming, I would run and hide behind one of the big oleander bushes, braving the bees over a stranger’s eyes.

Now that I’m an adult, that’s still very much the case. I’ll fumble my key into the lock in panic if I hear a neighbor’s footsteps or hide behind a column until a respectable distance is between me and a coworker leaving the office at the same time. I’ve even attempted (without complete success) to banish my family from the kitchen if I’m cooking because even having them in the same room is too distracting.

I don’t want to be seen.

I come from an internet age where you never put up your real name or picture, and then an age after that where revealing yourself made you open to attack. Yet, I still do write incredibly personal things on the internet.

And I’ve moved more and more towards the “personal narrative” to do it.

I’ve done it because it’s safer in a way to tell one’s own story on one’s own terms. Instead of being told, for example, that if only I knew any ace women who dated women, I would totally agree that my ideas were wrong. Instead of watching people tell stories of how they personally were attacked with bear repellent and therefore you should trust them when they say asexuality is homophobic. Instead of couching thoughts of one’s own masculinity in removed language and then having male voices completely miss that crucial detail when responding.

It tears at me to do so, but I rend myself in order to sew the pieces together in a new way, that gives form--makes meaning. That means someone coming after me might be able to put them on and be protected or empowered.

My history in the asexual community is almost turning into a barrier for me. With my girlfriend, I had so many things I needed to discuss, so many options and ideas. We sat down one night with @queenieofaces​’s Five Factor Model open on my laptop, but how do you have a relationship discussion with someone when you’ve got 10 years’ head start on the nuances of things like what infidelity is, or what a non-romantic couple looks like--especially when those things are so subjective and also who says you’re right?

But, you know, she hadn’t been involved because she hadn’t seen the point. “Same hat!!” is nice, and sometimes important, even life-changing, but it only gets you so far.

And yet, while I struggle with this, I see people on twitter say things like “people keep telling us to go make our own community. Maybe we will!” and I think, where have you been thus far?

I think, what was the point of letting myself be seen?

Being in this community is not going to stop hurting me, but I’ve got enough maturity and experience and perspective to know where my limits are. This community is important to me, even if it means I have to take my own actual face to a pride parade or send my own actual name to LinkedIn connections and government agencies and Japanese city councilors. It’s worth it. It’s worth it but--in the rush of “visibility visibility” maybe keep in mind what it costs.

The other day @grison-in-space​ reblogged a post about metafandom, and it made me feel some... complicated feelings. On the one hand, I do miss metafandom (and not because people there cared about what I had to say about asexuality for some reason), but on the other, I wonder, how would it work? That phase of the internet is over, and you can’t go back; it’s folly to try and go back.

Today is today, not yesterday or 2011 or 2007. And what I notice is the desperate need to be seen: face and haircut and name and story. And that visibility is leverage now--a Boomer got mad at me in May for refusing to put up a selfie for a political cause. You win hearts and minds by standing in front of someone and saying, “Here I am. I am a person. Will you scorn me now that you’ve seen my face?” It’s powerful, and I recognize the power. I’m trying to do better, fight better, be more open with those who already know my face and name. That wears at me too.

But you know, even as I crave that meaning, I can see that just being seen is enough for some people. And I have eyes. I’ll watch.

I see you.

I see all of you.

It’s the least I can do... isn’t it?

#community #asexuality #personal narrative #visibility #Shortland Street #media representation

[of-another-broken-heart]

I need to get back in the habit of posting snippets of stuff here a little more often... I’ve been doing good with my goal of writing in a physical book a bit each day, but I’ve definitely been missing out on the helpfulness of having a time-stamped reference available anywhere there’s internet to check on some details when my brain is... being... Like That(TM). 

My newest diagnosis pretty thoroughly eclipsed some happier news on Friday. I got very invested in making a new D&D character for a one-shot I’ll be joining in on sometime soon. Very counter to my Super-Homebrew Plant Fey Bae Druid for the big campaign I play in, this one-shot character’s most deviant trait is her height. She’s a Mountain Dwarf Paladin, and I wanted her to be BIG for a Dwarf, so I set her height at the maximum given in the race description. When I got to the actual dice-based trait assignment, though, I found out that despite giving a maximum height of 5 feet for Dwarves, the dice rolls only technically supported a height up to 4′8″... so I nudged the base dice rolls up from a d4 to a d6 and “cheated” my way into double 6′s to explain my max-height Dwarf. DM was amused at the PHB discrepancy and very on board for Big Dwarf Paladin. I still have some details to iron out for her, but for the most part she’s ready to play! Her name is Nellian Trueforge, she’s a guild artisan (blacksmith and jeweler) and a devotee of Tharmekhûl, and her holy mission is to spread the good of her craft and her god wherever she may journey. Her Paladin Oath is the Oath of the Ancients, so her whole Thing(TM) is centered around universal good, cheer, positivity... and her biggest flaw is that she’s perhaps a little too optimistic. Her second biggest flaw would be her fairly charmed/privileged life has made the truer realities of suffering foreign to her, so she struggles to understand trauma and cynicism in others. 

Friday night I got to play a pretty lengthy “side mission” with my Super-Homebrew Plant Fey Bae Druid, where they accompanied another party member on what was supposed to be a low-level, high-body-count Adventurer’s Guild quest (they are a Warlock with a pact with Belial, and they can collect souls for special crafting projects). Things went smooth and easyfor 75% of the adventure, but the end was an at-level challenge (a summoned kuo-toa Goddess) that we tackled with the help of some of the super nice magical items our DM rains on us on the regular. The scenario was fun, the people involved did some quality role-playing, witty banter, and punning, and I spent some time after the session doing some much-needed character sheet tending and Bag of Holding (spreadsheet) upkeep. I remembered to take my sleep med sometime between 11 and 12, but I think I was up until 5 AM doing document management. 

Yesterday (Saturday) I was only up for like... 12 hours. I slept a lot after I finally crawled into bed, and didn’t get up until nearly 3 PM. It was a pretty chill day. Mostly just did FFXIV stuff. Finished my WT book for the week, played around in Hydatos some more (kept getting in instances that would lock early, though, so mostly just farmed low-exp bunnies for chances at Eureka-locked loot... got my first-ever gold chest from them, but didn’t get the loot I wanted)... I took my sleep med, and I am pretty sure I was asleep by 3 AM. 

Today I slept a lot, too. I got out of bed... around 1? I don’t remember exactly. I woke up to an alert from some psuedo-fascist comment response on YouTube where they twisted the age-old advice of “If you’ve got nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” into “THIS IS WHAT ORWELL WARNED US ABOUT!! THOUGHT POLICING!! THIS IS 1984!!!!!” and that... wasn’t pleasant. 

I didn’t make myself in any way presentable for public, but I went out anyway. My brain meds run out tomorrow, so I wanted to get my refills in hand before it felt like a red alert. I also stopped by a gas station, and irresponsibly splurged on a $2 novelty latte from Dunkin - they have a deal on mediums and have the Girl Scout Cookie flavors again. All in all, today cost $30. 

My new med, for life-long hypothyroid treatment, isn’t fully covered by insurance. There’s a shitty irony to that, I guess. My brain meds are covered, my sleep meds are covered, and my birth control is covered... but my Vitamin D, and my hormone replacements, I gotta pay for. 

And like... those are the 2 things I can’t do anything about. I can cope without the brain meds, if I really have to. Hell, if my financial situation improves, coping with my Hellbrain is pretty easy actually. I’ve gone my whole life with my shitty sleep problems, so coping with that again wouldn’t be too big a deal. And while birth control certainly makes my monthly bleeds a whole lot more tolerable, coping with THAT pain was also something I just gritted my teeth through, too. 

But my body literally attacking its own thyroid and permanently being incapable of producing life-necessary hormones for healthy bodily functions? My body literally being incapable of producing adequate Vitamin D amounts to stay healthy? Money. More money. 

It’s not even a lot of money. The Vitamin D price is like $0.94, and the thyroid hormone replacement is $1.00. But when your income is $0... having an infinite, recurring $2 price tag on your life-critical meds is still an impossible cost. 

And I know I just got paid for a house sitting gig. But the majority of that needs to go into my shaky bank account, to keep the damn thing open and pay for another couple months of internet access, because the internet is my greatest tool for coping, socializing, looking for work, and just generally keeping informed about things. 

Oh. I got approved for more therapy sessions. I don’t remember if I noted that here. The approval was basically for weekly sessions, from Feb 18 to May 18. There are two big problems with that, though. 

1) I cannot afford weekly trips out of town. 

2) Even if I could, the therapist is booked solid most of the time, so even if I tried to book as many openings as I could, right now, there would still be weeks where there simply aren’t any open appointments to fill. 

So like... I’m still going to try for more. I booked another appointment towards the end of the month, and if I get 1-2 in March, 1-2 in April, and 1 in May, I’ll consider it worth the effort of getting the approval in the first place. That’s still only... a maximum of 6 of the approved 13, though. Less than half. Feels bad. 

#personal

[kayluh1915]

My Opinion on Anthony’s New Video.

A lot of you have been requesting that I watch Anthony’s NEW VIDEO that he posted yesterday and... I really didn’t want to. I’m so done with Anthony’s shit and his slimy tactics, but so many of you swore to me that it was good and worth a watch. Well, I watched it. Here’s my thoughts.

If you would like some context to my “sour” mood towards Anthony and his content, Please refer to THIS and THIS post before reading this one. Thank you.

Another long one, guys. Buckle up!

Same shit, different day.

the end.

Nah, I wouldn’t do that to ya’ll.

But in short, that’s exactly how this video made me feel. If you remember my reaction from his APRIL FOOL’S video this past year, you know that it was THAT video that pushed me to my breaking point and made me unsub from Anthony. Well, take that video plus his first SOLO VIDEO and you got this new video. It’s his same slimy shit with a new coat of “self awareness” paint, but I’ll get into that later. For now, I’m going to give my honest thoughts and crique to this video in particular and I’m not going to lie to you guys, it was genuinely funny at first. I was actually smiling and cracking up a bit and had SOME SORT OF HOPE that the Anthony I knew and loved was back like some of you had told me............. but then he flushed it down the shitter.

His first offence was the editing. Everytime someone would say something that cracked me up, he'd shove goofy sound effects in there and something related to the statement. Sometimes that kind of trick CAN work and enhance the comedy. Pyrocynical and Leon Lush (commentator/comedy channels I enjoy) is an example of how it’s done CORRECTLY. What Anthony's doing here works more like a laugh track in that it’s forcing a reaction from you that should be coming to you naturally. Instead of enhancing the humor, he's forcing it by distracting from the joke and not giving them enough time to land. It's just: “good joke, LAUGH! good joke, LAUGH! good joke, LAUGH...! PLEASE LAUGH!!!”

His next offense is that jokes go on TOO LONG. Timing is EVERYTHING in comedy and if the timing is off then it can lose the humor and fast. Sometimes, jokes get funnier the longer they go on. A perfect example of this is the: “how is prangent formed” video. It’s not that funny at first but gets funnier and funnier as it progresses. Anthony tries to utilize this type of humor, but if done incorrectly it RUINS the entire joke... he often does it incorrectly... especially in this particular video.

Next offense is kinda like the previous one, but I’m mentioning it anyway because it really bugged me. The video is too long. If this video would have been two minutes of them making those comments to Anthony without any intrusive editing, this video would have been PURE GOLD and I would have LOVED IT, but he drags it out WAY too long and is trying to recreate his FIRST VIDEO. IT’S LITERALlY THE SAME CONCEPT, GUYS! 

To quickly add some more offenses, he’s also using the same DISGUSTING tactics that I have CRITICIZED him for MULTIPLE times. A few include:

Using YouTube Giants like S*ane D*wson to get A SHIT TON of views and new subs only to lose said views and subs months later.

Profiting off of the S*osh fans who are still broken hearted from his departure and not seeing him and Ian TOGETHER IN A YEAR AND HALF

Manipulating people into subbing instead of earning them

and the list goes on. As I mentioned earlier, I enjoyed this video at first. The comedy about him leaving S*osh and how his channel was “dead” was being handled VERY WELL. It wasn’t being said just so S*osh or Ian could be mentioned, there was actual thought put into those jokes and it’s all I ever I wanted from Anthony as a solo creator... but it was immediately ruined when I realised that it was his guests that made me laugh and not Anthony himself. It was VERY disheartening because a video that I actually liked from Anthony wasn’t actually his humor. Anthony, instead, was just doing exact same shit he’s been doing and I wasn’t laughing. Mix that with the previous offenses above and you got another Anthony crap pile. The only thing “new” he did do was the “self aware” humor which is his next offense.

Instead of using the self aware humor to address his critizers much like Pyrocynical I mentioned earlier, he’s using it as an excuse as to why his content is bad. It’s like he’s taking this and waving it in our faces saying: “LOL, MY CONTENT ISN’T BAD BECAUSE I ACKNOWLEDGED WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT MY CHANNEL!” Oh, honey... Just because you’re self aware and add in a YouTuber that got over a million views in a single day just to boost yourself doesn’t automatically make your content good. There’s a lot more to those jokes than just going: “herp durp, i realise people talk shit” and comes off as manipulative. Which is super ironic because the new thing he’s trying to do is the EXACT same shit pile as what he’s been trying to do since day one. It’s just got a new coat of paint on it to distract you. In other words... to manipulate you into thinking he’s doing something new so you'll subscribe and give him views...

Seriously...

I love Anthony half to death and I want him to succeed, but I cannot and will not support his content as long as it remains the way it is and has been.

Same shit, different fucking day.

#kayla's ramblings #anthony padilla #never thought i'd use that tag again #same shit different day #ianthony #because i can