#i was literally trying to write one of them while THIS THOUGHT invaded my mind and i had to write it down

[l13]

i love all the writing you’ve done on jonathan ohnn/the spot ITS AMAZING

but i just know that pre-collider spot is such a pervert towards reader like stalking her on social media legit screenshotting her posts and saving them to his phone… you post one picture of you in a bikini AND HES CUMMING IN HIS PANTS that man would do anything for you just to go out on one date with him or even notice him. (which i mean reader can clearly notice him by the way he always stares at her while at work, she just knows him as the “weird guy” at alchemax)

i'm gonna lose my miiiiiiiind

tw: LAZY WRITINGGG, f!reader, pervert!jonathan, m!masturbation, not proofread (it's 2am pls)

Not only is he stalking your socials daily, he's surprised when you greet him one day at work. He waves at you, but it's so awkward that he cringes.

He only goes at work outings just to see you all dressed up. He's glad that the places they go to are always packed, and that his blatant staring isn't obvious. He's literally sitting at the bar, alone, watching as you dance- a shy grin on his face as he sees you laugh with your head thrown back. Fuck, you were gorgeous.

If you guys ever worked on the same project while at the lab, he'd absolutely be losing his shit internally. He's seriously PANICKING.

Keeps side eyeing you as he pretends to work, but he really can't concentrate with you being in arms-reach at all times. Your perfume is clouding his brain, and he thinks that he needs to find out what brand it is and buy it, IMMEDIATELY. You say his name suddenly and his head snaps up to you as you start talking to him about smth work-related. Jonathan is nodding along to your words even though he's not hearing a single thing that's coming out of your mouth. He's too busy staring at the way your lips move as you talk.

"-but I don't know if that would be a good idea. What do you think?"

"Huh- 'm sorry what?" he's swallowing around nothing as he watches you chuckle softly, shaking your head, and he's scrambling to find something to say- throwing up a lame excuse of having a headache, anything to justify him acting like a caveman.

Literally replays the whole 3 second of this interaction in his head when he's home, and curses himself for being so pathetic.

The next day when he's still stuck working alongside you, (not that he minds in the slightest, it's just really, really hard for him to get any work done) you're invading his personal space, wanting to grab some papers that were left on his desk, and instead of going around him, you stretch and grab them from right next to him, and he swears he felt your tits brush against his arm-

that night he, once again, replays that day's interaction in his head, but this time he's whimpering while thinking about it, trying to remember the way you felt pressed against his arm even if it was for mere seconds.

He can't help but lower his briefs guiltily, biting his lip at the sight of his painfully hard cock. He wraps a hand around himself, closing his eyes shut, his mind immediately conjuring an image of you naked and panting for him-

"Fuh-fuck. Please fuck me, baby. Want y'so bad, shit-"

❥ weeks later ->

this might sound dumb BUT what if he's showing you smth on his phone and he goes to close the app, but when he does his social media is pulled up right next to that, your profile on display. Cold dread washes over him in a MILLISECOND, and he's yanking his hand back and away from you, closing all apps in lightning speed.

You're stunned, obviously. You wouldn't have thought anything of it, i mean checking someone's social media is not weird after all- but the way he reacted? That spoke volumes. And satisfaction pulls at your belly when you watch this man literally fight for his life. He's stuttering, readjusting his glasses constantly, even when he doesn't need to. And you're just sitting there watching him, trying to hide your smile by biting your lip softly.

"Jonathan.. d'you have anything to say to me?"

"What? N-no! Why would I?"

you shrug, "I dunno. You tell me,"

"Just, y'know.. I thought about following you since we work together 'n all..."

you hum, looking at him through your eyelashes, not believing him for a second, "Did you like my pictures?"

"What?!"

"You heard me,"

"Uh.. y-yeah. They were really nice."

Jonathan freezes when you scoot closer to him, one hand falling to his thigh "Yeah? S that what you do for fun, Jonathan? Stalk my profile?"

"No!-"

you click your tongue, leaning in to graze his ear with your teeth and he's shivering "Tell me the truth."

"Fuck... I.." his pretty lashes flutter when you squeeze his plush thigh, your hand inching dangerously close to his bulge-

You wait four more seconds, and when he still doesn't answer, your hand falls on the outline of his cock, and you're squeezing him over his pants. He moans, and you have to clamp a hand over his mouth to silence him bc of how loud he was. You were still at work, after all.

"Answer me, baby." you mutter against his jaw, and his eyes roll back as he whimpers, the sound muffled by your palm.

"Mffyesh- I do, fuck, I look at you all the damn time-"

You coo at that, starting to rub him over his pants "Yeah? I bet you touch yourself to my pictures too.. God, you're disgusting."

he nearly sobs, "I am, I am-! M sorry, just want you so bad- Please, I'm sorry- You're perfect, I couldn't help it,"

#so sorry abt how lazy and badly written this is #i know i said i was gonna reply to asks tomorrow but i couldn't help myself this anon is a genius #the weirdest thing is me writing this while listening to bardcore #aka witcher soundtracks LMFAOO #pathetic losers are my weakness<3333 #anon.<3 #the spot brainrot #the spot x reader #jonathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn x reader #johnathon ohnn x reader

[rrxaiky]

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓

GENSHIN: Kamisato Ayato x GN! reader.

WARNINGS/ TAGS: Near death experience (?), angst if you squint, mostly fluff, mentions of death, first half of the story- Reader & Ayato are both children, Friends to lovers, Chinju forest has season changes here, not beta read [ 1.3K WC ]

── WHAT IF reader was a cursed human who only appeared in winter at a certain location? What if the only way to break their curse was for them to finally find love... In a place where not many dare visit in winter?

A/N: Just a quick writing exercise, don't come at me because I know this isn't my best work, I literally just word vomited this. Tl;dr - Working on separate Ayato series, have this thing while I write.

Ayato remembers that day as clear as day, years ago when he met you in the depths of Chinju forest. What he doesn’t remember is why he wandered into the forest in the midst of winter. Ayato could remember himself shivering from the cold, only noticing that he was lost once he was too deep in. 

Ayato was slumped against a tree, the coldness invading his senses, and his eyes heavy. He could hear footsteps going towards him, stopping just when they got in front of him. You placed your hand on his cheek, and Ayato looked up. All he could do was see your blurry figure as you lightly scolded him, though most of it had become white noise to him.

Once you realised all your scoldings fell on deaf ears, you pulled him up and slung one of his arms over your shoulders. Ayato can’t remember much about that part, except for a warning. Something along the lines of not going into Chinju forest alone in winter next time. The next thing he knew, he woke up surrounded by attendants, and his head hurting. 

The attendants had stated that they found him just outside of the forest with a burning fever. Though, Ayato wanted to get out of bed. He wanted to know who you were. You scolded him about going into such a dangerous place alone. What about you? 

Though… It was probably best not to go back alone. He didn’t want to relive the possible feeling of death by sending himself back, so maybe it’d be best to ask around Inazuma city about you first. 

He walked around the city days later, asking around about you. Your face was blurry when you approached him, so he had to try his best to recall what you as a person looked like. He didn’t realise evening would fall so soon. Since it was winter, most of the stores had closed early, but he had only gotten one response.

“I’m sorry, I have not seen this person before.” 

Maybe it was better to wait for spring. 

The cold days and nights of winter faded as quickly as it came, bringing forth a new season. Ayato stood outside of the forest’s entrance, hoping that he’d be able to find you inside. He spent hours roaming around, only to be met with no results, and Ayato went back to the estate once again with it weighing on his mind. He felt guilty that he wasn’t able to give you thanks for saving him.

He tried to look for you after, a few times a week from spring to summer… It’s late autumn now. Ayato’s already long lost count of the failed attempts he’s had at finding you. Another day he walks out of the forest with an attendant with him. Was this unhealthy? “It’s okay,” he told himself. 

He was just a child. He had plenty of time ahead to look for you.

It’s winter now. The first day had just passed, and Ayato had finally finished training. He asked one of his attendants to accompany him to Chinju forest once more, even though night would fall soon.

The attendant kneeled down to Ayato’s height, checking if he was dressed before he stood up again. “Be careful, young master.” Ayato nodded before heading into the forest for the nth time. 

This time, he saw someone by the river. You. 

“Excuse me!” Ayato’s voice rang through your ears, alerting you to look at him. “You again..? I thought I told you to not enter here alone during winter,” you said to him. You eyed him up and down before continuing, “I’m taking you back. Come on, it’s not safe to be here.” You grabbed his hand as you finished, heading towards the opening of the forest. 

Ayato, on the other hand, tried his best to resist. “Wait,” he began, pulling his hand away. “I came here to say thank you!” 

Thank you? Thank… you?” 

Those words were foreign to you. He wasn’t the first person you’ve spoken to, but of all the people who you’ve met before, he was the first to say those words to you. You could recall everyone who you’ve seen before. They didn’t like speaking, they didn’t like moving. They liked laying in the snow, they liked catching snowflakes in their dry mouths. 

“Oh.” You didn’t know how to respond to him. “Uhm, what’s your name?” you asked instead. “Kamisato Ayato, pleased to meet you.” You blinked once, twice, then said, “(Name).” Ayato’s face beamed when you finally told him your name. “Your name is very pretty! Let’s be friends, (Name)!” 

Oh, you didn’t know how to respond to that either. You could only silently nod, earning a small cheer from the child. 

“Young master? It’s time to go!” A voice rang out from beyond the entrance. The both of you turned your heads to the source of the sound. “I have to leave… Will you be here tomorrow? We can talk more then!” He said, turning back to face you. “Yes, I will,” you answered. He smiled at you again before waving goodbye and leaving the forest.

For the rest of winter, Ayato would keep visiting you, sometimes bringing you gifts from the estate. The rest of winter went by quickly, even quicker than usual. Maybe time flowed faster when you were with him. 

The day before spring, you found yourself sitting in silence beside him. “You know I’m not going to be here tomorrow, right?” Ayato looked at you as you spoke. He seemed disappointed. “When are you coming back?” 

Next winter.

Ayato had a frown on his face now. He still wanted to spend more time with you. “Promise me you’ll be here?” For the first time in the life you’ve lived, you flashed a small smile to someone else. “I promise.”

One, two, three years… Ayato’s been to that forest countless times now. 

One day, Ayato ran into the forest, a devastated look on his face. You could only awkwardly hug him when he hugged you. He told you that his parents had passed, and that he wouldn’t be able to visit you much anymore because he was to immediately take over the duties as the head of the Kamisato clan.

And then, years passed. Nearing the end of his visit on New Year’s Eve, he said that he loved you. He then asked you if you wanted to watch the fireworks together, but you couldn’t. You could remember the look in his eyes when you responded with a “No, thank you,” 

“I really want to bring you to see the sakura blossoms that bloom in spring,” Ayato said. You smiled. “Promise to bring me there if I can leave one day?” 

“I promise.” Ayato looked at the time after making his promise, then stood up, preparing to leave. “I need to go now, (Name). See you next winter?” “Yes, see you, Ayato.” You stood up and walked towards him, grabbing one of his hands to capture his attention. “I forgot to mention this earlier,” you began, leaning in to give him a peck on his cheek. “I love you too.” Your voice was covered up by the loud sounds of the fireworks, and Ayato could only stare at the way your lips moved as you mouthed those words. 

-

“My lord, there is someone outside the estate looking for you.” 

Thoma’s voice interrupted Ayato’s train of thoughts as he worked. Ayato stood up from his seat upon hearing him. “Who is it?” Thoma smiled at the head of the clan. “You’ll see when you get outside. Now, excuse me,” he responded, excusing himself. 

The moment Ayato walked out, he was dumbstruck. You, standing in front of him. 

You were just as ethereal as when he first saw you when you were both children.

“I believe you said you wanted to show me the flowers that blossomed during this time of the year?” You asked, giving Ayato a small smile afterwards. He couldn’t help but walk forwards and wrap his arms around you. 

“And here I thought you’d leave me to live the first days of spring alone again. How cruel you are, my love.”

Reblogs + Follows highly appreciated. <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #原神 #genshin x you #genshin scenarios

[brybryby]

VERY LONG POST IM SORRY. DONT FEEL OBLIGED TO READ

HI. Alrighty, this has been on my mind for a while (ever since promotional content for Trials started being released).

I have a TON of analyses in the drafts, but I want to make this post before I release them for public viewing.

I know that I like to make goofy, light-hearted little fan animations and fan art of Outlast, but I think I need to start changing how I navigate through the content. After spending so much of my time deep diving and writing up these analyses, my eyes have been opened to just how much the franchise revolves around fucked up historical events. I feel that some of the stuff I've posted is tone deaf, or at least the way I posted about it is. And I think—for the most part—there's an understanding that I don't intend to be harmful, but I fear that the way I go about it **is**. (And obviously, action takes precedence over intent.)

For contextualization, when I initially got into Outlast at the age of 12, I was enthralled by the horror aesthetics and found a lot of the angsty gore to be cathartic. I felt so “taboo” and “scandalous” lol (especially as a developing child trying to understand myself amidst my puberty stage). I was young and—for lack of a better word—braindead in how I navigated the media. I was naive, mindless, ignorant, etc etc… Now that I have a deeper understanding of the narratives and historical implications/influences, I need to do better in how I interact with the franchise.

What am I getting at?

Pretty much, I'm working on being more careful with how I interact with the media. At the same time, I want the analyses that I post to be educational. And most importantly, please message me if I ever say some bullshit. Seriously. All I ever want to do with my life is to be a positive impact. I genuinely get upset if I cause harm to someone else. (One time I literally cried at a high school football game as a freshman because I thought I hurt someone else's feelings. It turned out they were faking it lmao. Then they started feeling bad and then that made me feel bad for crying and yea yea).

Seriously though. I know that my posts can get public outreach, and anything that has public outreach can be influential and have a good or bad impact. So please let me know if I do or say anything harmful or ignorant. I won't be offended. I don’t want to spread harmful stuff. There are many instances in my life where people sit me down to have meaningful conversations about shit I've said or done and how I can improve myself.

That said, I'll be posting more analyses and making my own syntheses of historical events. My next analysis post will be about Waylon's Asian-coding (specifically Korean-coding), how Trials actually supports this (using themes of US immigration), and why it is apparent to many Asian fans (including me, hehe).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's pretty much it. But if you wanna stick around a bit further, I'll tell you my (excruciatingly long) story about how I got into Outlast :) along with how much it has invaded my brain and life :') and maybe get a little ~personal~ hehe

STORYTIME:

So, the game came out in 2013. Nearly 10 years ago. I was 12 at the time of its release. Let me tell you…this game was a HUGE impact in the horror community. HOLY. SHIT. It changed the way I looked at lockers and beds. I remember it being critically acclaimed (and rightfully so). It may have not been the most technical video game, but it certainly was a piece of art.

I remember commercials being shown everywhere. The trailer of beta Miles Upshur running and parkouring through Mount Massive while being chased by the tiny beta model of Chris Walker will forever be canonized as part my childhood. I remember specifically heading to the bathroom from my living room and my dad interrupting me to say “Hey! Check this out!” and then proceeding to play the trailer for my 12-year-old eyes. I was scared shitless.

Couple weeks later, Conan O'Brien featured Outlast in one of his segments of “Clueless Gamer” (yeah, my family and I used to watch Conan lol). I was very familiar with Slender and Amnesia, which were the 2 other games featured in this Halloween special, but this was the first time I REALLY got to check out Outlast.

Now, let me preface that during this time, internet culture was very interesting and even less safe than it is today. I had a ton of bad experiences on the internet during my childhood. But oddly (and embarrassingly), the emo/scene/horror/creepypasta culture was what brought me comfort amongst a sea of awful things you could find on the internet. It was probably unhealthy for my developing brain, but I indulged in a lot of angst that was presented with heavy gore and violence. And to be honest, looking at this kind of stuff at a young age helped me process a lot of my own personal shit that I experienced outside of the internet realm. (To be clear, I don't endorse this type of violence, and I don't endorse exploring the internet in the same way I did as a child—it was probably very unhealthy and I think it caused some early development issues.)

But nothing—and I mean NOTHING—scratched that itch more than the way Outlast did. I watched the finger cutting scene in Conan's “Clueless Gamer” and was fucking mortified. I was scared of the dark for weeks. But I remember spending that night in my bedroom looking at more Outlast content to get that cathartic fix to fill my emotional hole of…I don't know…morbid curiosity? I definitely felt shame at the time. I don't know. In recent years, I've been on this journey to process stuff I experienced during my childhood and I struggle to go about my middle-school/junior-high stage because…I don't know…puberty? Access to the internet? I once got bullied by a forum of adult men for posting fan art LMAO. I was 12 years old—I forgot what the fan art even was. ANYWAYS, yea. That was only one instance of my conglomeration of internet experiences. (Like many other peeps, I had to hide my gender & racial identity to preserve my sanity). Indulging in gore art was therapeutic and helped me release negative emotions in a non-harmful way. Horror-genre communities online have been mostly friendly and welcoming towards me. That's probably why I fell in love with Outlast as an art rather than a video game.

I wasn't in the fandom straight off the bat. I had other hyper fixations at times but I navigated through these other fixations with this personal “Outlast standard” where the art and fiction I consumed needed to be horror-themed, gorey, or angsty. And Outlast isn't solely to blame. I was into gore and angst before the game came out. It just so happened that it came out at such a perfect time in my life. (Horror made my queer self feel accepted)

This whole “Outlast standard” stuck with me throughout high school. Uh… this next bit of information may get a little personal. During my sophomore year, someone really important in my life passed away. Then I had this life-impacting thing happen during my junior year that changed how I perceived things forever (lol, this sounds so dramatic). I turned to art to help me process and yada yada… but y'know what really helped? You know what I turned to when I needed to “scratch the itch”? (I bet you'll never guess)

I finally considered myself a part of the Outlast fandom in 2018-2019. I was a high school junior/senior and I posted the Outlast-Outkast animation that got retweeted by Red Barrels. Had a lot of fun in the fandom during that time and it helped get my mind off of things. Also, I loved the fact that Waylon graduated from Berkeley. I was applying to colleges during this time and it made me romanticize Berkeley, lol. I ended up getting accepted. Had an awesome time. I recently graduated and got my Bachelor's. I'm very privileged and gracious for my experience. I spent a lot of grueling time and energy dedicated towards my education.

During my college years, a lot of the unprocessed shit from my childhood started resurfacing and it was becoming hard to navigate through life. I became really disconnected with people who were close to me. Art started to fall out of my life. Stuff happened. Got in touch with psychiatrists thanks to my college's free health services. I don't mean to downplay or normalize what happened, but I'll bring up that many college students deal with mental illness and depression (and this could be attributed to many things: moving away from family, student-life, financial pressure, pressure to secure jobs/internships, living alone for the first time, maturing into an adult, etc. etc.).

But I remember sitting alone in my studio apartment one weekend and started surfing Tumblr. I came across new Outlast fan art and it sparked my hyper fixation all over again. I re-read the comics and—OKAY THIS IS GONNA SOUND FUCKING RIDICULOUS—but I started jogging because Miles went on jogs LMAOOAKJDGHJAHKGFL. I finally picked up the pencil and started drawing again (after like…months) and drew Miles and Waylon flipping off Murkoff. And THAT was when I realized what the narratives of Outlast were actually about—FUCKIN' CAPITALISM AAUGGGHHH. MY LITTLE POOPOO BRAIN AT AGE 12 NEVER UNDERSTOOD THAT. AND NOW THAT I'M AN ADULT—NOW THAT I CAN BLATANTLY SEE MYSELF AND MY PEERS AS VICTIMS/PRODUCTS OF CAPITALISM—CAN FINALLY FIND SO MUCH VALUE AND MEANING IN THIS GAME HHHRHRJGHKSDKFGLAJKDG SAY W H A T IM GONNA *explodes*

Then a year later, I started drawing more and more again. Trials' promotional marketing was becoming more prominent. I started posting my fan art on Tumblr. Then I made the fanimation (thank you Mr. Baichoo, you're so awesome, I will forever be a fan of yours) and now here I am. Still fixated on this silly little game for nearly 10 years. WHEW.

I FEEL LIKE A SHRIMP CHIP. Anyways, thanks. I much needed to get this off my chest.

Also, hey! Just wanted to say thanks for the friendly and welcoming interactions in this space. It feels so much safer and more comforting than previous internet experiences I've had. Since 2013, the fandom has evolved a lot. In my opinion, it has evolved for the better. The resurgence of new fans bring such refreshing perspectives and fields of knowledge that haven't been influenced by some of the harmful internet culture that I grew up in. So truly, many thanks to y'all for making the fandom space a nicer place (especially for such a heavy game). Also, what the heck, everyone in the fandom is seriously so talented and artistic

Uh… fan art time? (old stuff/sketches I haven’t posted)

But seriously if you got this far, thank you

#outlast video essay #brybryby text

[bye-bye-firefly]

Goood evening!! What’re your thoughts on dream sequences?

Welllllll you know meeee.........i write a lot of dream sequences. if im not writing dream sequences the character is falling in and out of sleep. BUT i do understand how that can get annoying. overall dream sequences should be able to convey something to the reader, that there is something going on in this character's psyche that they cannot face in the narrative right now or ever. what can you gather from a dream? and at this point i fall off the deep end soooo. more under the cut

they can be very important to the story Ya Know. most of the time im having a character confront some kind of mental block or real life issue in a dream. dreams communicate fears. dreams communicate mounting pressure- dreams can BE that mounting pressure. dreams can also communicate acceptance. dreams can be characters in and of themselves!! but dreams have to consistently represent something. i would suggest like. maintaining one or two different meanings for dreams but this generally goes for ALL symbols. telling a story is inherently enforcing some kind of narrative. joan didion's belief was that writing was a hostile act, describing it almost as if it was violating the reader. to be specific, she said:

In many ways writing is the act of saying I, of imposing oneself upon other people, of saying listen to me, see it my way, change your mind. It's an aggressive, even a hostile act. You can disguise its qualifiers and tentative subjunctives, with ellipses and evasions —with the whole manner of intimating rather than claiming, of alluding rather than stating—but there's no getting around the fact that setting words on paper is the tactic of a secret bully, an invasion, an imposition of the writer's sensibility on the reader's most private space.

do i necessarily completely agree with joan didion? No. but i do think she was getting at something and it was something very important about writing. when you are telling a story, whether it be fiction or non-fiction, there is some underlying narrative going on there. there will always be some hidden meaning because people dont walk around without them. even the nihilists have a hidden meaning they want to share with you: there is NO meaning. writing is a philosophical experience and a deeply self-analytical one, which didion also believed was part of the reason why she wrote if not the sole reason she was a writer. she described it like she didn't know what she was thinking until she wrote it down. she didn't know what was happening with her mental state until she wrote it down. i dont believe she did that expressly to impose a narrative upon a reader, to persuade them necessarily, but YES there is a part of every writer that wants to make you see it OUR way.

but this feeling is not specific to authors. other forms of art find themselves trying to make you see what they see, whether it be simply through their own memories of an event or a scene, or quite literally an artists interpretation of politics and history. an artist trying to convey to you what an event did to them through their medium of choice. a piece i love so much is félix gonzález-torres' 175 pound piles of candy that guests are encouraged to take from, forcing them to participate in the art piece. not only do you get to view it, but to get the full experience, you must participate and pick up a candy and eat from it, the representation of félix's and his lover's body, both taken away by aids. the horror of it is forced on you and that visceral emotional reaction feels like an invader suddenly entering your body. everything about it hits you like a freight train while you're eating a cellophane-wrapped candy. what can you get from that? what exactly can you interpret from it? what thought does the author have? can you feel it being forced on you?

i mentioned this before in a note but i said that at the time, i was following the oscar wilde method of writing, which was to write without communicating a moral to the audience. while i still identify with this- in no way am i trying to teach you some kind of lesson when you read nameless- there is a mix here that i think is important when talking about what you choose to write and what you choose to symbolise. dreams are not just a gateway into a character's mind but YOUR mind and what you associate with certain things. writing is displaying art and because of that, people can interpret your art in any way they want and there is no wrong way to view it in my personal opinion. even if you put it out there with a vision and a goal, people can choose to make it personal to themselves and there is NOTHING you can do about that. this is part of the medium. you dont control how people interpret it if they feel deeply about it.

a good example of that is sun yuan and peng yu's "can't help myself." you probably already know about it: a machine that sweeps up liquid that looks like blood. sun yuan and peng yu intended for this to be a more political piece, trying to evoke imagery of war, surveillance, and land disputes. these concepts were not just randomly chosen for a random exhibition; the guggenheim museum specifically sought out yuan and yu for the "tales of our time" exhibition, which had a focus on locations and geography. where the artists lived, their idea of utopia, an interpretation of modern borders. even the title was a play on lu xun's book "old tales retold," which, as it says on the tin, retold old tales but in a way that critiqued society and highlighted issues specific to the era. so, when "can't help myself" was created, it was an interpretation of the state of border politics.

looking at it with this perspective, the "blood" the machine cleans up leaves red streaks across the floor as the only evidence it was ever there. the machine gets little breaks and dances and interacts with the audience like a nation's figurehead on tour, waving to citizens in the audience before immediately returning to the bloodshed. and when the blood gets too much, they dont have as much time to appease the crowd or to do a little dance or wave. theres too much to mop up, and then the blood becomes the centrepiece. no matter how much the robot sweeps up, there is always more. and the machine sweeps up blood until it cant anymore, and then the blood is left to sit for everyone to see. its the inevitable end of empires. it is what war will do to a nation. when the power struggle that leads to wars that leads to death en masse become too much, people will be unable to ignore the bloodshed and there is no amount of dancing or waving a nation can do to save them from their demise. the machine lays down and dies. the empire falls.

or...or its exemplary of a country trying to control immigration. it pulls the blood back in, but there are streaks left of it on the floor- people still get out and they never come back. blood gets spattered on the walls and is, therefore, unable to be swept back up. what is a nation without its people? and that is why borders and the inherent function of the machine is important. the machine is not leaking the fluid; the fluid has been poured into the space and the machine sweeps it into an arbitrary border. when it flows outside that border, its sensors go off and drag the fluid back in. that brings in the idea of mass surveillance. bringing those who step out of line back in. its an orwellian image of a machine dancing and waving to the audience, putting on a jovial performance, before punishing its subject for stepping out of its contrived boundary in front of its company.

the art piece briefly fell out of public knowledge before being discovered again through what little video we have of it while it was being shown. and some of the people who found it were not given the context of the guggenheim exhibit, nor did they get to view it during the time it was in action. some were not residents of china, yuan and yu's home country and the area-specific politics "can't help myself" was reflecting on. because of these holes in knowledge, people began to interpret it as a rat race sort of commentary. the fluid representing money, or the machine's life force, or joy flowing out of the machine and trying to be gathered back up by this anthropromorphised version that was created. it dances and waves and puts on a brave face, all while fighting to maintain these important things. some people interpretted it as people pleasing, where the machine would dance and then go right back to struggling to stay alive, perhaps struggling with depression or other kinds of mental illness. it would wave to make people happy and interact with the audience, all while bleeding out on the floor. people felt for it and identified with it.

and while you could argue these interpretations are "tainted" because they don't know what the piece is actually about, it doesn't make any other interpretation any better. in fact, my interpretations of "can't help myself"- even with the assistance of context from the guggenheim website or my limited knowledge on chinese policy and history or the assistance of the artists themselves, articles from people that saw it in person, what few translated articles i could stumble across in my early search- is tainted by the fact that i have only ever lived in the west. i don't truly know what chinese immigration policy looks like or what the chinese government is telling its citizens, what narrative is trying to be pushed. i only know what narrative my country is pushing. i am assuming that, maybe, the chinese government is saying the same things as the west, but i don't truly know and i won't know until i meet someone who lives or lived there, but i haven't. as logical as my interpretation is, there are likely holes because of my view on the government which has been shaped by living where i do, just as this piece is shaped by sun yuan and peng yu living in china.

and even if they don't know the context, that doesn't make their interpretations any less evocative. there is something to be said about the performance the machine puts on because its an important part of the piece. there's something to be said about how you are an observer peering into a glass box at the spectacle that is happening. you can stand there and have blood flung at you because of the work the machine is putting into maintaining its borders. there is something to be said about the way the machine appears to be bleeding, even if that's not what's actually happening. these are amazing things to think about and the fact that people think about it at all is amazing! i think thats fucking beautiful!!

and you want to know why that's so amazing? because art like this is MEANT to be provacative. it's MEANT to spark a reaction. it could be reactions in the political sense, like inspiring people to be activists or to question their governments and representatives, or reactions in the emotional sense, like fear or intrigue or sadness. "can't help myself" is poking at you and begging for a reaction. the machine dances and waves and tries to entertain you between sweeps as if it's begging for you to look at it, to analyse it, to figure out what it's doing and why it's doing it, and why you are trapped behind the glass, stuck watching it. regarding "can't help myself," sun yuan told artsy, "we see how the robot and the liquid finish by torturing each other."

with this, we return to didion and her belief that writing was a hostile act. sun yuan and peng yu went into this project hoping to communicate a strong political message that was essential to the museum that commissioned them. the museum wanted the view they could provide. from the start, this is about politics and geography and borders and immigration- so how did people end up seeing themselves in that machine? its a matter of the artists releasing the ability to maintain context. even with people learning the context of the piece, there are still those that identify with it because their interpretation means so much to them. this piece has a life of its own outside of what the artists intended for it and this inevitably happens to every piece of art. those who care about it will interpret it in a way that relates to them. if they are politically minded, they might interpret it in a political way, and for those who aren't, the piece becomes deeply emotional.

i might try to insert a piece of myself into every piece of writing i do, but there is nothing i can do to stop people from interpretting my art however they please. i find IMMENSE joy in this because its so interesting to see what i wrote and finding different versions of it inside the people it touches. dream sequences can be deeply personal for the character, but you will never know because you will never be them. for the simplest of dream sequences, the most straightforward, the most complicated, the strangest, there is an interpretation out there that blows my expectations out of the water. im constantly searching for different interpretations of stories ive read in the hopes i will find a deeper understanding of it, which is really all this post is about. dream sequences are good and people's interpretations of them make them even better and IN FACT every single piece of writing is made better by being able to turn to other people and ask them what they thought of it. understanding a piece is understanding the people around you and how the art affects them, not what the artist specifically intended by making the work.

#authorisms #fae's asks #i did not mena to go off like this i just felt crazy thinking about all of this all at once #i was on a roll. this is straight up a video essay script

[barbi2709]

The party Night

Summary: You don’t really like partys, but you don’t hate them either, so why does that one had to be diferent?. Well, maybe because of the fact that your best friend is there acting more affectionate than normal with you. Oh, did I mention you like him?

Word count: 2.4K

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Disclaimer: This and each of my stories are only fiction and are not intended to offend or make anyone uncomfortable, if this type of content makes you uncomfortable, feel free to leave without resentment :]

Pairing: Bad boy Hyunjin x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers, little Stranger Things AU (Reader is Steve's twin)

Warnings: Mention of alcohol, drugs, smoking, and sex, swear words, kinda heated kiss (it's my first time writing something like that but this isn't a smut).

Note: Hiii, this is my fisrt time publishig here, also it’s my first time doing an idol x reader fic so I hope you like it. Also, english is not my first language so I apologize if there are any errors of any kind (I literally write the hole one shot on spanish and then use the google translator lmao, but I also chek every single part of the one shot to try to see any mistakes).

Also, if you could please like and repost my post you would make me so happy :]

Parties were not quite your style, seeing people smoking between cigarettes or illegal substances, drinking alcoholic drinks and seeing them do anything stupidity because of the effects of these, having your ears saturated with the high volume of music, people screaming, and not missing one or another moan of pleasure out there.

Your brother Steve had dragged you to the party along with his girlfriend Nancy, using the excuse that you had to have some fun since that's what boys did at that age, you still didn't want to go, but he didn't care, since he ended up taking you anyway, using the excuse that Hyunjin was going too so you could hang out.

As soon as they got to the house where the party would be, Steve and Nancy went to god knows where, leaving you alone and surrounded by hormonal guys under the influence of illegal substances for their age.

You let out a sigh and began to walk around the house, looking for your redheaded friend, you thought that his hair being a very striking color would make it easy to find.

To your misfortune, it wasn’t.

You let out a big sigh to find yourself in the middle of the house, being pushed from one side to the other by the people around you, anywhere in the house was more or less the same distance, and you were lazy enough not to want to return to where you were before.

Despite that, you turned around to go back to where you were initially, but a whistle made you stop, you turned to the place where the sound came from and finally you saw him, he was at one end of the house, leaning disinterestedly against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers and a smirk as soon as his eyes met yours.

You immediately went to where he was, once closer to him you managed to recognize the shirt he was wearing, "Hotter than your ex, better than your next". You both had chosen it once when he accompanied you shopping, as soon as you saw it the same thought invaded your minds.

His father will hate it.

And that's exactly why he bought it.

—At least tell me that what you're smoking is legal. —you said while leaning against the wall, right next to him, Hyunjin let out a small nasal laugh and returned the cigarette to his lips, gave him a little smoke and turned to see you with a smile.

—The substance is completely legal —you just rolled your eyes at his mocking tone—. The real smokers are right there. —He said as he moved his head to the side, pointing to several boys who were less than 2 meters away, you hit his shoulder when the characteristic smell of marijuana filled your nose. He was at that end of the house for a reason.

—Moron. —you grumbled as he let out a loud laughter, his distinctive laugh was like music to your ears, and the smile that graced his face every time he laughed was completely sublime.

You wouldn't tell him though.

Not yet.

Little by little he calmed down his laughter, until it finally ceased, but the smile that adorned his face remained intact, and shortly after he smoked the cigarette again, you looked at him carefully, admiring each one of his delicate features, and you were so focused on it that you almost jumped when you felt his arm around your shoulders, giving you a hug.

—But, if one of these touch your pretty lips, we're gonna have problems sweetheart. —he warned seriously as he brought his face dangerously close to yours, looking directly into your eyes, you slowly nod without breaking the eye contact, and his expression relaxed, leaving a sweet smirk on his face.

Hyunjin only separated a little, enough to give another smoke and that the smoke didn’t reach your face, and from one moment to the next, his sight deviated from you, looking towards some part of the crowd, you took advantage of his moment of distraction to admire him again, this time more carefully; but you came out of your thoughts as soon as you noticed that the song that was playing in the background had changed, and despite that, Hyunjin was still staring at the same point.

—Who are you looking at so intently? —you asked looking at him curiously, he just turned his eyes towards you, and then diverted it again to the crowd, you likewise directed your eyes in the direction in which he was looking, meeting a girl, a classmate of your generation, it was somewhat popular for being pretty, but nothing else stood out—. Oh Olivia Moore. —you said with a smile seeing her, Hyunjin smiled sideways, while he nodded his head, confirming that he was looking at her.

—She's hot. —he commented as he exhaled the cigarette smoke for the last time, before throwing it on the ground and stepping on the tagline.

—Yes, she is —you agreed looking at the girl, she was really pretty, and she had a great body, which stood out a lot because of the clothes she was wearing at the time, adding the way she moved her hips while she danced—. So?, What's your plan? Fuck her now or at the end? .—you asked monotonously, you wouldn't be surprised if that ended up happening, you knew Hyunjin too well, and when he wanted something he got it, besides having his glorious face, there were few girls who refused to spend a single moment with him.

—Whoa, you think that badly of me? —he ask with fake disappointment, you just raise an eyebrow at him—. I mean yeah, I'm that badly, but you're supposed to act like I'm not. —he says with a "God, that's obvious" tone, you just place your hand in one of your jackets pockets and take a little sachet, but it was a special one.

A condom, in more detail.

—Use it with wisdom. —you say sarcastically as you held it out to him, he took it and looked at you with a mischievous look.

—Why did you have this in your pocket?. — he asked confused, he knew you well enough to know that you weren't the type of girl to go to parties often, much less to look for one-night stands, so the fact that you had a condom in your pocket was confusing to him.

—Steve —you answered simply, shrugging your shoulders in disinterest—. "Without balloon there's no party", that's what the idiot said. —you told him rolling your eyes, the redhead couldn't help but blurt out another loud laguh, because it was definitely something Steve would do.

The boy put his arm around your shoulders again, hugging you again, the smell of cigarettes was noticeable, you disliked having that smell so present, but it was compensated by the fact of having Hyunjin that close. You had a crush on him since you were 14, even though he was the typical guy who got into fights almost daily, he skipped classes and started having nights of pleasure from a very young age. But despite that, he was very attentive to you, he always tried to show you the best side of him, plus he knew you wouldn't judge him no matter what, so you were always there for him, just like he was for you.

And you were happy and satisfied with that, maybe you wanted to be something more, but for now you weren't complaining.

—How about getting out of here? —he asked as he looked at you with a sweet smile, you looked at him confused by what he said—. C'mon Y/N, I know you aren't enjoying being here, so let's go, I'll take you home. —he said as he took you by the hand and led you to the door.

—But what about Oli-?.

—I wasn't planning on spending night with her. —he clarified as he continued walking, Hyunjin had more experience in parties, so he knew how to move quickly among people, making them arrive quickly at the exit of the house, they both left there, the change of environment was drastic, despite the fact that you could still hear the music coming from the house, just getting some fresh air and not seeing girls your age trying to take jobs away from strippers was reassuring.

You gave a big sigh as you left the place, Hyunjin turned to see you, smiling when he noticed how you relaxed being out of the place.

—That much you wanted to leave?. —he asked you without taking his eyes off you, taking the liberty of intertwining his fingers with yours, you just nodded.

—Don't you think my brother will get worried when he doesn't see me at the party?. —you asked looking at him, Hyunjin just shrugged his shoulders, not taking the matter very seriously.

After a while of walking, you finally reached your house, you opened the door and walked in being followed by Hyunjin.

—God, the party left me exhausted. —you sighed as you dropped into the couch in the living room, Hyunjin looked at you with an unbelievable expression.

—You were like 15 minutes there with me, what are you exhausted for?.

—It's your fault for being so close to the marijuana boys, that shit it's overwhelming for a novice. —Hyunjin let out several laughs at the nickname you had given them, shortly after he approached where you were and squatted to be more or less at the height of the couch.

—Well, I'm glad that you're a novice, princess.

—Sure, now, good night, leave whenever you want. —you said as you closed your eyes, Hyunjin blinked a few times at your sudden action, and rolled his eyes.

—You shouldn't sleep here on the couch, Y/N.

—Shut up and let me sleep —you groaned as you settled more comfortably on the couch, the boy clucked his tongue, and a few seconds later you felt him lift you off the couch, carrying you princess style—. What the hell Hyunjin?. —you asked looking at him, he just smiled at you angelically and started walking towards the stairs.

—I don't want you to hurt your back from sleeping on the couch. —he said as he started up the stairs.

—It's just one night, Jinnie. —you said quietly as you closed your eyes, although that action made you unable to see the smile that adorned the redhead's face when he heard you call him that.

—I don't fucking care, princess — he said as he entered your room, and then gently left you on the bed, while he sat on the edge of it, admiring you with his gaze, you noticed, and connected your eyes with his, dark brown eyes meeting (e/c) ones, he was fascinated with you—. You know, there's something I wanted to tell you, since a while actually.

—Well, say it then. —you answered with a sweet tone.

—I like you, Y/N. —he announced in a honeyed way while he smiled broadly, the tone in which he had said it was a serious one, like he really mean it, but you weren't sure about that, he had given you no sign that he saw you the same way you saw him.

—Sure, probably you are high, who knows how long you were close to the marijuana boys.

—Y/N, I'm not, I swear! —he exclaimed exaggeratedly as he lay down next to you, you only laughed at his tone, only you knew the side of him that acted like a tantrum 6 year old; Hyunjin being closer to you made you look into his eyes, and you witnessed how his pupils were completely normal, you could tell since you had seen him in all possible states, and right now he was in pure sobriety —. I'm not lying. —he clarified, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips constantly and repeatedly.

You could n't help but blush intensely at his words from him, you wanted to scream for hearing those words coming out of his mouth from him.

He likes you back.

He fucking likes you back.

—I could never lie to you. —he says in a soft murmur, almost whispering, holding your face with both of his hands, he starts to get dangerously close to your face, but he didn't dare to touch your lips, giving you only one chance to back away if you wished.

But you didn't.

Of course you didn't.

And without waiting any longer, you felt his lips on yours almost instantly. He brush his lips in yours, slowly and gently, being as delicate as possible, he had a rhythm that you could easily follow; His hands went to your waist, and he pulled you to him without warning, making you gasp.

The feeling was amazing, his soft lips had a taste that you didn't know before, but it was addictive, you almost thought you could get high. Your hands that previously rested on his chest now encircled his neck, as you ran your fingers through his long hair, and you felt how he melted into your touch.

Without breaking the kiss, the redhead positioned himself on top of you, one of his knees between your legs, and the simple rice made you let out a soft moan, and Hyunjin couldn't help but smile into the kiss.

He press your clit once again, teasing you, this time you let out a soft whimper, but in revenge you bite his bottom lip, and now it was his turn to moan, a mocking smile appeared in your lips, and he couldn't help but laugh and peck your lips one last time.

—Do you believe me now?. —he asked leaning back next to you, taking your hand and leaving a tender kiss on your knuckles.

—I like you too Hyunjin. —you said smiling as you intertwined your fingers with his, Hyunjin hug you, making you rest your head on his chest, while leaving caresses on your back.

—I'm glad —he says in a murmur, not hiding his beautiful smile—. It was a nice kiss though.

—Right… Well… I’m not sure how we ended up kissing like that… —you admitted with your face burning because of your shyness, Hyunjin let out a loud laguh because of the tone you used, he thought you were just too cute.

You settled into your bed, getting ready to sleep, and in a matter of minutes you were completely asleep, while cuddling him.

This was the best party night that you could ever have.

#changbin #i.n #bang chan #lee know #stray kids #felix lee #han jisung #hyunjin #Hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #stranger things #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz imagines #hwang hyunjin smut

[joe-the-english-otter]

Cerebus The Aardvark: Issues #101-#200. Continued Thoughts (Repost)

This is the second part of the three part saga of my opinions on Cerebus The Aardvark. I suggest you read the first part that I posted a few days ago, if you have no idea what’s going on or need some context. (Originally posted to FA on January 17th 2023) So I've continued reading Cerebus and yeah, the previous flaws that might've shown a bit in the previous issues really start to ramp up here and get worse the closer we get to issue #200. (I did mention in the previous journal about Dave Sim's anti-feminist views and I'll get into even more of his... Interesting views later on) Issues #101-#113: This is a continuation of the previous arc, though more story elements are added in as previous echoes, that were hinted at earlier in the story arc, start to build up properly and add weight to the story as Cerebus ascends (In a literal and metaphorical sense) to where he meets the Judge who.... Well, judges the many people of the world. After a long speech which developes the world building a bit more, he tells Cerebus that he's destined to die "alone, unmourned and unloved", that his empire has collapsed to an invading army and that the vast majority of his followers are dead. Issues #114-#150: After Cerebus literally falls back down to earth, he walks around the mostly ruined city that he once ruled, before eventually running into Jaka and her new husband Rick. Cerebus stays with them for a bit as a houseguest and there's a bit of tension as Cerebus does his best to try and split Jaka and Rick up, still showing that he loves her deeply and is heartbroken that she's found someone else. This part of the story is lightly pushed down as the character Oscar is introduced, who is 100% written as Oscar Wilde, he plays a major part in the story as he starts writing a story based on Jaka's life, without Jaka knowing. Cerebus leaves to go do a basic errand and while he's gone, Jaka, Rick and Oscar are captured by the new dictatorship controling the region (The dictatorship being mostly big burly women and one of the higher ups being Margaret Thatcher... Seriously). The latter half of this arc deals with the last days of Oscar's life, after being severely scarred by his time in prison. It also deals with Cerebus who is deeply shell shocked, believing that Jaka is dead. Issues #151-#200: This is probably one of the longest arc's in the series. In is part, we get more details on two other aardvarks that exist in this world; Cirin (Leader of the new dictatorship) and Suenteus Po (An extremely powerful philosopher who has lived through several incarnations of himself). There's a lot of mind games as Cerebus, Cirin and Astoria (She's back now) try to change things to their own ideologies, with Po trying to prevent things from going to complete shit. In the third part of the arc, the viewer is shown parts of an in-universe essay, which basically describes a theory on the sexes using a female void (Which focuses on feelings and emotions) and a male void (Which focuses on reason and logic). This honestly reads like it's Dave Sim's thoughts and it mostly comes out of nowhere, like it holds a bit of relevance to the story arc but it just feels very tacked on in my opinion and it's one of the first major times Dave Sim would throw his thoughts and opinions into the story. This story arc starts to reach it's end as Cerebus, Cirin, Astoria and Po finally meet together. Po is able to talk Astoria out of fighting Cerebus and Cirin, helped by the fact that Astoria is worn out by the constant violence. Astoria and Po then leave after they're unable to talk down Cerebus and Cirin, leaving them to fight and good god is their fight violent as hell, leaving them both covered in blood, but alive. Eventually they're both shot up into space by "god" (Who turns out to be called Dave and is 100% a self-insert of Dave Sim) and they're slowly split apart, this leaves Cerebus alone with his thoughts and we get a good look at some moments from his past. (Caution warning: Censored Homophobic Slur Mentions) It's also during this time that Cerebus is left alone with his thoughts and he starts praying to Tarim (The none Dave Sim god), at first being thankful for being saved and then out of nowhere, starts thanking Tarim for not minding him being a f*ggot, while also loudly trying to drown out those thoughts by chanting "Shut Up" as he unintentionally brings up a few moments of him being aroused by men, while also repeatedly using the word f*ggot, mentioning that he hates f*ggots and that being a f*ggot is a sin. Now this is all brought up because it's mentioned in the third part that Cerebus is a hermaphrodite and has or had the ability to reproduce by himself if need be, that really troubles Cerebus and is what caused his outburst. I understand that in medieval fantasy, there is some carry over of what the laws were in the irl medieval era, but there are way better ways to handle it and doing it in such a way where the character is disgusted by these thoughts and saying that they're morally wrong, is really hard to take, especially considering they're the main character. But anyway, back to the story; Eventually Cerebus meets "god" who is shown in word balloon text as he changes various things while speaking in Cerebus's mind, proving that he is a supreme being in some sense. "god* then shows Cerebus the destiny that he was supposed to have followed, but that he screwed it up royally and is now set on a path of self-destruction, he then shows Cerebus two possible realities in which he lives with Jaka, neither of which end well for either of them. The arc ends after Cerebus is stuck on a small planet for a while, as a type of penance, before he is sent back to earth. So, here are the good bits: The art is fantastic, both Dave Sim and Gerhard (He was the main background artist from issue #65 onwards) did a brilliant job. The writing can be very good at times, like the converstations between characters as they argue and discuss topics can be really interesting. Now for my main gripe: Dave Sim's thoughts and opinions bleeding into the story. It's now reached a point where it's gone from being fairly balanced, into just full on "This is what I think and you're going to have to deal with it" and it's really hurting the story. Nearly every female character is now an antagonist or is really watered down character-wise (Even more than before). It's also clear that his anti-LGBTQA+ opinions are showing and it's only gonna get worse from here as he goes deeper into has ramblings in the comments section, which at times takes up more space than the actual story he's making. I will continue reading this series as there's only 100 issues left and a few extras that I might comment on. Overall, I stand by that Dave Sim is a fucking arsehole and someone with some serious personal issues that he didn't resolve. He's talented, but that does not excuse the hate he spews from his gob. Thank you for reading. As before, if I'm factually wrong or have said something you disagree with, do let me know via a comment or DM on either here or on Twitter. Cheers.

#cerebus the aardvark #dave sim #80s comics #90s comics #cerebus #comics #aardvark #opinion #critique #comic review #review

[yeetlegay]

The gremlin is back with new notes, I hope you don't mind. I'll put a read-more mark in case someone wants to skip them.

Santa Maria we're like 1 minute in and it's already going places

Pete didn't strike me as a tattoo person but it makes sense

I mean I know my man is getting slapped and all but that shirt is fire

"Who's a good boy?" sounded equally terrifying and awfully cute (9 minutes in and I'm already bananas)

TANKHUN YES HELLO OMG YOUR OUTFIT IS LIT LIKE ALWAYS

Tankhun has the best reactions, kicking Kinn with legs included

Porsche is the definition of "this all could've been done without a gun and yes, this all could've been an email"

JESUS that wrench is huge

what if the car accident was caused by Time? In one of the first episode Time mentioned Tay's dad covered up his car accident like nothing ever happened because it was his area. Just a thought.

omg Porchay and his Snoopy hoodie so cute I'll die

as someone who has terrible relationship with my siblings, I'd die for their bromance. Porsche and Porchay might get on some people's nerves in the fandom, but like... They literally only have each other. Of course they'd be super gentle and overprotective.

God that blow-dryer is loud

omg these two babies. Tay and Time are serving looks

OH MY GOD SHE IS SO PRETTY SHE IS INDEED SERVING LOOKS

Love how Tay is manspreading while Time is trying to occupy as little space as possible

Vegas is really reading Childhood's End, a story about literal aliens invading Earth while he has Pete locked up???

No, he isn't. Idk whether I should say God bless or not

I wish Vegas' father a happy burn in hell

Tankhun is such a fashion icon and no I will never stop saying it

I want Tankhun to be kindergarten teacher to my kids so he can teach them basic life rules such as be relaxed and kill everyone who is suspicious immediately and all that while looking so damn fabulous

Sir, uh, that is, um, really creative excuse to kiss someone...

Pete is so good at asking the right questions at the right time

"Have you ever loved me?" no, that's why he Superman-ed those kidnappers and proceeded to enter the warehouse guns blazing... (I getchu tho, Chay...)

Vegas, it's not as bad as before because prior to this you got free Pete therapy session

"If you hate me, you'll have energy to kill me later." or as I call it, positive thinking

Turbulence... noted.

Nope, I don't think my car accident theory was correct. Rest in peace theory, you did your best.

I started to respond to this bullet by bullet but half the bullets were just variations of “AKDHDJNSJSKAJSH SO TRUE” so here is a shortened version lol

THE WHO’S A GOOD BOY LINE REWROTE MY FUCKING DNA ISTG if I ever decide to proceed with my villain era I will be taking Vegas as my manipulate manslaughter malewhore inspo

“This could’ve been an email” LESTAT I WHEEZED

That wrench scared me more than the electric chair (taint edition) from ep 10, like for why is it so ENORMOUS

I live for sibling bonds too ugh. Oldest of 5 here so Porsche’s older sibling struggles resonate deeply. (Also that one post about how Kinn is a middle son but an eldest daughter…math was found dead from the accuracy)

The second I saw the Childhood’s End cover I had to pause and Google lol I’m obsessed with analyzing characters’ reading choices (the Kardashian Konfidential book led to a headcanon that Kinn started watching KUWTK with Tankhun just to feel something and now he’s lowkey a celebrity gossip encyclopedia)

Tankhun kindergarten teacher…WHO’S GONNA WRITE HIM STARTING A MAFIA DAYCARE FOR THE NEXT GENERATION OF THEERAPANYAKUL TOTS

No bc my first thought when Vegas did the pill kiss was “holy shit he’s ballin I could’ve been having my gf give me Tylenol kisses this whole time???” Like absolute legend behavior imo

Kinn walking like that had me thinking Something Else and I was like “surely…surely they wouldn’t have…..not-not on a-a helicopter” so glad we got confirmation of a sky bj to bring my brain back online (sort of)

#kinnporsche #yeetle asks #why don’t queue stay #lestat tag

[heretic-saint-taliesin]

DAY 10 - SALVAGE SHIP THE WRETCHED_

[Communications commence, Boris speaks calmly but sounds tired_] 

Day Ten, salvage ship The Wretched. Yesterday was rough. Mentally and physically_

I’ll try and take it easy again. I don’t feel well_

I keep thinking too hard. I have too much time to think at the moment. Lack of people is getting to me and well… Talking into a recorder just isn’t cutting it for me so much anymore. My mind keeps getting increasingly existential to the point I’ve noticed I’m dissociating for minutes on end. It’s not the oxygen levels either - I’ve been monitoring those more closely since the last two incidents. No this is just… Just me. Going insane_

[Sighing and the sounds of getting up. Boris appears to go through his morning routine with the recorder playing and talking into it as he mills about_]

Space is huge. Like, really huge. It’s so big we’ve barely touched the surface of exploration and navigation. Barely even left our own solar system. The Wretched was a salvage ops ship - basically one big rubbish truck to collect and recycle all the space junk humans have been pitching into the cosmos since 1960. It sits around about eight lightyears out because that’s as far as it has a licence to go. But space? Almost infinitely bigger… Infinitely unknown_

[Pause_]

I brought a copy of H.G Wells to space with me. I can understand the irony of that now but it’s always been a story I can reread over and over. Wells used his experience and knowledge of the colonisation of New Zealand when writing about the Martians invading earth - a means of flipping the position of suffering onto the English people and forcing them to see what it means to be colonised. It’s fascinating, and terrifying. I don’t claim to know what it feels like to be colonised but I can say I know what being hunted down by an unknown alien feels like now. It can survive space, I can’t. I need fancy space suits and a ship with a life support system to live out here_

[Pause_]

So am I just invading its territory? Is that all this is about? Defence? Protecting itself? I get it but… I don’t want to think about it_ 

Shit_

Literal shit_

[Footsteps, Boris swearing and muttering under his breath_]

Oh my fucking god it reeks… This thing wasn’t emptied and I didn’t think and now - oh FUuuUUUuuuuUUUck!_

[An alert bell sounds around Boris as he can be heard frantically clattering about with tools_]

As if things weren’t mentally shit, I now have physical shit to contend with. The fucking sewage has gone. It’s leaking half-rotted sludge that I do not want to think too hard about. Oh fucking god I need that gas mask back on this is worse than the corpses… there.. There it is ah_

[Rustling, Boris’ voice is muffled by the gas mask_] 

I’m going in to fix it!_

[Longer pause. The sound of alerts beeping and loud, echoing bangs from Boris hammering at the silo. A few loud swears and complaints while he works but most is unidentifiable noise because of the gas mask muffling his speech. He eventually returns as the alerts go quiet_]

Fucking shit. The water system better be working because I need a shower badly_ 

[Pause. Boris sighs and starts walking_]

Normally ships just jettison their… Wastage. But no, not the Wretched. Not the “We’re a salvage ship we’re supposed to be recycling space junk not contributing to it” ship. Eco-friendly recycled shit to assist the fuel mixtures. Worst idea ever and whichever biologist or engineer thought of it can catch these shitstained hands someday_

[Pause, sigh_]

I’m going to shower and take the rest of today off_

Flight Engineer Boris Strugatsky Signing off_

#SRPG #Solo RPG #Boris plays the Wretched

[magizat-archive]

we need to talk about the memory wipe problem.

so, as some of you may be aware, some writers really do love writing zatanna as the character to go when they need to use a memory wipe storyline. the problem is, it doesn't suit much of her character at all - she has done it some times in the comics and one of them is particularly disgusting but i won't get into it ( you can find about it here ). but, zatanna wouldn't do it: in my perception she's a very generous character and someone who respects individuality and free will. i mean, i do believe that the first word is one of the core aspects of what makes her great anyway, and was the case ever since she was created.

but beyond that, the memory wipe goes further than just erasing someone's memory. she did it to change another person's belief and chore values to suit her own's or someone else's. like it happened to selina:

but writing this kind of storyline butches her character. zatanna takes magic seriously, when it comes to her abilities she's very clean and organized - ruthless sometimes? definitely - but doing this is crossing a line she would never do because it goes above what she is required in her position as mistress of magic and literally violates another person. zatanna, whose voice was taken off multiple times, tied, hypinotized, and captured to have her core (her powers) stolen or drained knows how this feels - her memory was wiped by her own father and she cried over it. so no, this destroys her for multiple reasons:

it doesn't explore her thought process while doing it nor gives it reasoning beyond well, she can do it, so why wouldn't she?

it never is about her reason or issues, only about someone else's (like erasing batman's memory to make him comply to the league's will, or selina's memory about his identity which thankfully zee didn't follow through)

it never ties into memory wiping to the stage magician perception of hypotization and the like, which granted could be cool and wouldn't be so far fetched - zatanna can manipulate, invade and even change someone's mind, but how would she do it? would it be immoral? or would be done for a small detail? something that didn't go beyond a small confusion?

it is so overdone it was almost her character trait at one point.

the only way i see her doing it in on pure, almost heartbreaking pressure from the outside and even so, she'd be broken afterwards.

am i saying zee is a perfectly moral charatcer? not at all. she transforms people into animals, objects, she places curses on villains - but she does try to do it to people who deserve it and even then, she never goes too far, never goes beyond what she deems as righteous (though to someone from the outside her idea of it is quite blurry) : but violating someone's psyche like this, their whole existence, is something she won't do even to the worst of the worst, because in a way, it's worse than dying and far too similar to abuse. at least, not my zatanna and not my take on her.

#✧･ﾟ ― metas & study ❫ i’m a spellaholic. #this week on screw dc's writers and their plot forced ideas on characters !!!

[slightlyaboveaverageiq]

The Whisperer: Part 4 (Wally Clark Fic)

A/N: so the slashes will be what the spirits are writing in the note and the little squiggles are Morrigan’s responses. Also each ghost that asked a question had their own paragraph to make the reading easier. Much love ❤️

“See cherry pop I told you she would be back.” Oh good lord they’re all here. Fantastic they must have followed Dawn to my locker and not being idiots they put two and two together that this was my personal space that they could invade. Dawn did look a bit sheepish so I’m guessing they did more than follow her, I have a feeling she implied they should come with her.

“Dawn. Is there a specific reason that the ghosties are surround long my locker?” I knew I sounded like an exasperated parent talking to their child but it was literally only 7:30 in the morning…on a Monday. Which meant I had five days that I had to make it through without having a major migraine. For the most part the other spirits had left me alone, Dawn talked to everyone so the simple fact that she seemed so interested in me was nothing of major concern to them.

“Cherry pop here says you stared right at her when you first came into school, and that you tried to ignore her. We can’t even indirectly tell interact with the students, Dawn thought it was maybe just her so she tried talking to a few but nothing happened.” Rhonda shrugged and for the first time I’m guessing in forever she threw the lollipop that she was abusing with her tongue in the trash and turned back to me. “So why want to know why you’re the only one who can, and Dawn here has some kind of profound since of loyalty to you so I’m sure it you did tell her and told her not to tell us she wouldn’t.” Lovely it was like having my own little ghost puppy. It could be worse. It could be Rhonda, is there a place you can surrender spirits that you don’t want? Connor’s words echoed in the back of my mind and I quickly pushed that thought away as fast as it had surfaced.

I opened my locker and shoved my homework from the weekend and lunchbox in before grabbing periods 1-3 supplies and cramming them in my bookbag. “Look I’ve already told you I guess I’m just fucking special I don’t know okay. All I know is for some reason you can see and talk to me and I can see and talk to you. I can even hold your hand and stuff too just like I would a human.”

“So you can have sex with a ghost.” Everyone’s head turned to stare at Jock and he very quickly looked away. “I WAS JUST STATING WHAT WE WERE ALL THINKING!” we all cringed and I’m fairly certain I lost hearing in the ear closest to his air horn style mouth.

“Jesus Christ man you don’t have to yell we’re not on mars. Also I don’t know because I haven’t tried but in theory yes I probably could.” I started walking towards first period, why the hell were they still walking with me? “Guys I get you’re lonely and you’re excited about this but we can’t talk in the classroom like we can my locker. People are definitely going to notice a girl talking to herself in a quiet classroom as opposed to the fucking chaos in the hallway.” Dawn just shrugged and walked on in, of course she was probably content staring at the lights or something and wouldn’t try to carry on a conversation.

“What about notes? We could sit in the class and write notes on a piece of paper back and forth.” That was the first time puppy had said anything and it wasn’t a bad idea, and he just like Dawn was far too adorable to say no to.

“That’s not a bad idea, however I am going to be late if we don’t get in the door in the next thirty seconds so.” Jock and puppy shoved each other trying to get through the door first while Rhonda hung back unsure if she was invited to this little come to Jesus meeting as well. “That includes you too little demon.” She smiled and I offered a small one back before walking in behind her.

I pulled a piece of notebook paper out and Rhonda was the first one to grab it and start scribbling something else on it. /can you see all spirits or just ones at the schools you’ve been to?/ fair enough question I suppose. ~I can see all spirits I just try to ignore them, this school has the most spirits I’ve ever seen~ Both Charly and Wally read over Rhonda’s shoulder and Charly pulled the pencil and paper away quickly exclaiming that it was HIS turn to ask a question.

/Does your family know you can talk to spirits? Do they talk to spirits? If they don’t do they ask you to talk for them?/ Well ouch Charly you didn’t have to accidentally hit me where it hurts, but the way he looked so excited about it I couldn’t give him a crude answer. ~All of my family knows, only my oldest brother and sister believe me though. Everyone else thinks I’m crazy. Obviously because I said everyone thinks I’m crazy no one else can talk to them. My brother will sometimes ask me if someone we know that is dead is around but that’s about it.~ Charly read it and seem satisfied, maybe he was trying to see if he would be able to somehow let his family know he was still around without asking me to tell them which would in fact make me sound crazy.

/Why can no one else in your family see or talk to spirits? I feel like that would be a genetic thing./ Damn it Wally I was expecting you to be the least observant of the group not the one who picked up on that. ~Genetic flaw I guess, I know I’m pretty great but we all have to have flaws no matter how great people think we are.~ He smiled at that one and Rhonda rolled her eyes before crumpling the paper up and tossing it in the trash.

“3 points!” I wasn’t expecting Wally’s sudden outburst and leapt about 5 feet out of my chair and had everyone staring at me like I had seen a ghost. Which I guess technically I had. “Oh shit sorry Mori I didn’t mean to startle you.” He came over and rubbed my hand and ignored the weird tingle that traveled up my spine when he did.

“yeah yeah just go haunt the halls or something guys I gotta learn. I know you all don’t because you’re dead and you’ve heard these lessons a hundred times but I have not.” Wally and Charly both stuck their tongues out at me before leaving the class with Rhonda once again trailing behind.

“So are we just going to pretend that Wally comforting you didn’t give you goosebumps?” I scowled at her as she smirked and laughed before standing up before going to follow the boys. “I’m sure that’s what you’ll be thinking about in the shower tonight.”

Fucking. Cunt. Waffle.

But she was absolutely right and I am now absolutely fucked all because a pretty football ghost asked if ghosts could have sex with humans and he gave me the bare minimum of skin to skin contact.

Well fuck me.

#school spirits #wally clark #rhonda #fanfic

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

Submas Song Sunday #1

Hello and welcome to the VERY FIRST Submas Song Sunday, where I take a song from my playlist and kinda just talk about how I think it fits the subway bros (or just one of em!)

I might include references to fanfic, or explain an animatic I can think up to the song, or just talk about it!

DISCLAIMER: Nothing on this playlist is intended to portray anything aside from familial relationships. I am NOT looking at backstories of songs, who they were written for, or songwriter’s intent. I go STRICTLY off lyrics and how I interpret them!

You may find a link to the playlist in my pinned post! If you have a song you want me to talk about, send it in :)

Song: Still Feel by Half Alive

suggested for today’s breakdown by @apatheticrobots

Okay so this song was actually a recommendation by my gf! I think it fits really well actually so let’s do this

When I'm furthest from myself (Far away) Feeling closer to the stars (Outer space) I've been invaded by the dark (Can't escape) Trying to recognize myself when I feel I've been replaced

Well doesn’t this just fit perfectly for poor Ingo in Hisui. He’s further away from who he truly is than he’s ever been (lost memories) and closer to the stars bc he’s on a mountain instead of in subway tunnels. He’s perpetually trying to recognize who he is, and who that stranger who looks exactly like him is...

When I'm furthest from myself (Far away) Feeling closer to the stars (Outer space) I've been invaded by the dark (Can't escape) Trying to recognize myself when I feel I've been replaced

But this also fits for Emmet, a bit? He’s NOT feeling like himself, he’s lost mentally in thoughts of hope and fear, and he’s worried his brother left on purpose...

I can feel a kick down in my soul And it's pulling me back to Earth to let me know I am not a slave, can't be contained

I personally see this as Ingo starting to remember. Something kicks in deep in his mind, and he really feels the ground beneath him and the memories in his mind. He will not be used as a pawn for a random god who cares nothing for his situation, or for a human who wants to be a god, or for the portals that brought him here randomly. Whoever is to blame.

So pick me from the dark and pull me from the grave

This lyric in particular feels perfect, because pulling him back into the future where he belongs would. Literally undo his death. I think about this a lot and am writing a thing about it

Cause I still feel alive When it is hopeless, I start to notice And I still feel alive Falling forward, back into orbit

Ingo is still here. He did not die as Emmet fears. He may be in the past, but he LIVES in the past, he can still go home, he can ‘fall forward’ in time back to his proper station.

So, when I lose my gravity in this sleepy womb Drifting as I dream, I'll wake up soon

This fits both of em! Random portal nonsense for the first line, but also literally dreaming in Emmet’s case, where he knows it’s a dream but doesn’t want to wake because it’s a good one.

To realize the hand of life is reaching out To rid me of my pride, I call allegiance to myself

Then there’s something telling Ingo that he will return home, and someone telling Emmet to continue living, to not give up, to keep going for his own self even if Ingo is gone.

But I can feel a kick down in my soul And it's pulling me back to Earth to let me know I am not a slave, can't be contained So pick me from the dark and pull me from the grave

Now these lyrics for Emmet, in conjunction with the lines preceding them... He refuses to completely permanently give into his own grief. I firmly believe that while Emmet would be a wreck at first, and would never exactly move on, he would learn to live again. Even if his life was far more dull than it was before.

He’d get to his feet again and keep going. He wouldn’t let Ingo’s disappearance be his grave.

'Cause I still feel alive When it is hopeless, I start to notice And I still feel alive Falling forward, back into orbit Oh, I still feel alive It is hopeless, I start to notice Oh, I still feel alive Falling forward, back into orbit

Emmet eventually falls back into a routine, he’s still alive, and on hopeless days he carries not only proof of his own life but Ingo’s too as a talisman, as something to ward off hopelessness. Dude never loses hope, I will say.

I can feel a kick down in my soul And it's pulling me back to Earth to let me know And this heart that beats inside of me will show It will show

More of the above! Just keeping that hope alive inside, see?

Floating in outer space, have I misplaced a part of my soul? Lost in the in-between, or so it seems, I'm out of control Floating in outer space, have I misplaced a part of my soul? Lost in the in-between, but it can't keep me asleep for long

Ingo’s still confused and trying to piece together his shattered memories. He certainly has misplaced a part of his soul! He’s in-between past and future, his past and the literal past. But he WILL remember, whatever caused this can’t be permanent he says. He is going to find a portal and go HOME, wherever that may be.

Cause I still feel alive (I can feel it) When it is hopeless (It ain't hopeless) I start to notice (Start to notice) And I still feel alive (I can feel it) Falling forward (Falling forward) Back into orbit (Back into orbit) Oh, I still feel alive (I can feel it) When it is hopeless (It ain't hopeless) I start to notice (Start to notice) Oh, I still feel alive (I can feel it) Falling forward (Falling forward) Back into orbit (Yeah) I still feel alive (I can feel it) It ain't hopeless I start to notice I still feel alive (I can feel it) Falling forward (Yeah) I still feel alive I still feel alive

And here’s just the whole end of the song! I believe that there’s a reunion in there. I can’t picture a perfect animatic to this song, but I think this long outtro involves Ingo getting home bc that’s what makes me happy and the lyrics fit!

Anyways yes, this is a song about continuing to live, about not giving up hope, and finding your way home again. At least in how I interpret it!! It’s about how things are hard, like confusion and coping with really heavy stuff, but until things are resolved, you cannot stop trying.

Hope rewards those who don’t give up where it counts, even if ‘not giving up’ just looks like ‘i will wake up every day and continue to live.’ Eventually, even the most impossible things may just work out for you, and you will feel truly alive again :)

Thank you for coming to my TED talk lol

#submas #submas angst #emmet #ingo #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #submas song sunday #first ever!! yay! #please tell me how you enjoyed this #i tried to do this in another fandom and got no feedback at all so i'm really hoping submas fandom likes song analysis #even if not. i might continue to do it for myself #because i have SO MANY THOUGHTS!!

[sollucets]

again, "graduation" [this is not the title] is not about thua or the world remembers. but they keep invading their way into my brainspace while im writing it

i'm cursed. i swear i'm cursed

i started musing about this in the tags and wrote. Too Many Damn Tags? like tumblr cut me off. i didn't even know tumblr could do that. so here they are out loud under the cut

#a kind commenter told me they'd want to see me do thua reconciliation scenes #and i didn't answer because i couldn't promise them i would #because i can't fuckin make up my mind about how id approach it #sigh. personally how i think it is #is that akk forgives thua basically straightaway because #1) he thinks he deserves it #2) they committed functionally the same crime so it would be hypocritical #and 3) he wants kan to be happy #so akk is like 'yes i was miserable and terrified and i have mental illness now' (like he didn't before) #but like. i always thought that would happen that's why i was so afraid to tell because i knew i'd deserve it \#2. 'the same crime' i mean literally that's what they did #(note: i rowan do not think this. akk was cult peer pressured into it and from that pov could've lost everything if he hadn't. thua... had other options) #i think the only part of the crime akk might actually be mad about is the journal stealing but that's because it really hurt aye #speaking of hurting aye: this is the only reason he's upset re: outing too #and so thua will get like. browbeat or guilted or whatever into apologizing to akk and akk will be like 'why someone had to do it' #and hell go 'i dont care but i want you to apologize to aye' #and that will not go nicely #because in the end aye cares about in this order 1. akk and 2. everything else #this is actually one of my favorite things about akkaye lmao. aye abandoning his morals #like. obviously he doesn't become Evil and he still wants akk to admit to it and all that i'm being a little dramatic #but..... if it comes down to it. in the moment. he'll pick akk every time because he loves him#and maybe he'll feel bad about it but he still Will #(this is also true of akk --> aye as far as rulebreaking and whatnot go) #so a thua -> aye apology... the thing is that i don't think thua feels guilty about anything short of the outing part and even then... #like. i think it's a bit. 'how do you like it' #aye outed thua to his mom for better or for worse. aye hid akk's secrets from thua. aye encouraged him to speak up and then Didn't

#so..... i don't know that thua would feel. 100% sorry #maybe that he hurt him. like on a personal level. they were friends #but without the context of 'aye being desperately in love and being the whole reason akk stopped and still trying to get akk to come clean'#man idk

and as a result to me i think that conversation would become a fight

in 'choices', i had aye sort of. forgive but not forget for the sake of group cohesion, which i do think he'd do because he is a lonely boy and these are his only friends here and also For Akk's Sake.

i also did that because choices is a gentle and fluffyish fic about akk getting used to pda and, as you can see, if i got into it i'd lose my damn mind [gestures up the page]

and in the end, truly, the people who deserve thua and akk's apologies are the world remembers. they deserved better than that "phi welcome back :)" because who Wouldn't say that!! theyd just been approached by all the prefects at once and their two bullies like.... are you gonna be anything less than perfectly polite

i'm even more torn about how to hypothetically handle "akkthua apologize to the jums" because i have even less insight on how They would respond to it agh

AGH

ahem. i have strong feelings on episode 11 of the eclipse. i continue to do so. dont even get me started on chadok ill be here all fucking day

#rowan chatter #when i said 'derailed' this is what i mean #ive been sitting here for an hour just fucking Thinking about it