She saw her moment and got glossed up for it

teenage fantasy. {Joe Mazzello} /SMUT\

Anon asked: Can you do a joe smut fic?? Where he's rough but soft at the same time???

A/N: 2483 words. I love this Y/N because she definitely responds to the questions ‘your boyfriend’s an actor? what’s he been in’ with ‘me.’ ANYWAYS smut. it might be a bit sappy, i genuinely don’t know if it’s good but i’m not going to apologise for it, it is what it is. have fun. would love some feedback.

“Do you remember when we were kids, we made that promise that we’d be best friends no matter what?” You said, voice gentle as you rested your head on Joe’s chest, the two of you half paying attention to something on the television.

“It was when I brought you along to Jurassic Park,” Joe agrees, an arm around you, rubbing small circles into your back, “you’d wandered off to find the T-Rex, and you found her, but she started malfunctioning and you started screaming.” And the moment you try and bury your embarrassed expression against his chest, he laughs, low and warm, and gives you a squeeze. “Yeah, I remember, why?”

“That still holds up, right?” Your voice is muffled where you’re still pressed against his chest, and he’s quick to answer.

“Yeah, it’s a promise, babe.” When he speaks, you look up at him and see him grinning; he’s still looking at the TV, but you can tell he’s not paying attention to it.

“Well when I was sixteen I also promised I’d never date an actor-” You half smile, and he finally looks down at you, raising his free hand to his chest.

“That really broke my heart, you know.” He interjected, and you gave him a light shove.

“Exactly, I broke that promise.” And his expression softens from amused to gently concerned.

“Why are you bringing this up now? What’s got you worried?” He asked, and you can’t articulate your thoughts. “You’re my best friend, my girlfriend, and I’ve known you since grade school; babe,” he laughs a little, wearing a fond smile, “at this point I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with me.”

“But when we made that promise, we were kids, we didn’t know what it meant, we didn’t have to be anything.” Voice soft, you rest your head on his chest again, eyes closed as the fear that had been overwhelming you for months finally came to a head. “But we’re, we’re grownups and you’re someone, Joe. You’re in Bohemian Rhapsody, and I’m-”

“Stop it.” Joe’s voice is firm, and your voice dies in your throat. “Whether or not I’m in a movie or whatever, that doesn’t change anything about us.” His voice is unwavering, and his sincerity calms something in your chest; he truly believes in what he’s saying. 

“You mean that?” You murmur, and he taps your hip gently. Moving automatically, you sit up looking at him with only the barest hint of uncertainty as he beckons you towards his lap, letting you straddle him.

“Of course I mean that.” It’s so soft when he says it, his hands cupping your jaw as he pulled you in for a kiss. He holds you like you’re made of porcelain, and when you lean back, his fingers ghost, feather-light down your arms to settle at your hips. The way he looks at you, reverential, like you hang stars in the sky, his eyes wide and bright, the barest hint of a smile on his lips, it’s as if he’s trying to commit this image to memory. It’s like he’s never seen anything more beautiful that you, in his lap, wearing a shirt that was far too big for you, and a pair of lacy knickers, and you duck your gaze, bringing your hand up to scratch the back of your neck. “There’s no-one I’d rather be with, I promise.” 

“Joe-” you murmur his name soft as he takes your chin and guides you back to face him, pulling you in where you’re smiling bashfully.

“Baby, I promise.” He says, his lips inches from yours, and you grin as you close the gap between you two, kissing him fear disappointing in a way you hadn’t realised it would the moment he has a hand on your ass, squeezing firmly, almost like a reassurance.

“Did high school you ever imagine we’d end up here?” You half laughed as Joe peppers kisses across your collar, which then turned into a faint gasp as he ran his fingernails up your side beneath your shirt with the hand that wasn’t on your ass.

“I think high school me had this exact fantasy.” He admitted, and as you laughed, his hands quickly come up to pull off your shirt over your head and he nodded, shooting for serious as he made a noise of agreement. “Actually, this is much more accurate.” And you’re still giggling even as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh. He kisses his way up your chest, deliberate, lips warm against your skin, and then there’s that smile again, the one you’ve known for years, the one you’ve loved for years, and suddenly you feel secure.

You’ve seen him on screen a million times, falling in love and kissing what felt like a million different people who weren’t you, but in moments like this, where he’s got his hands on your back, guiding you to lay down on the soft bed.

“What about you? Did high school you ever consider this?” And he punctuated it by pulling his shirt off over his head, and you reached up, regarding him with an affectionate smile, tugging him into a messy and passionate kiss as an answer. He had one hand on your cheek, the other moving lower, dipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He swallows your gasp as he slides one finger into you easily.

“I-” when he stars to kiss down the column of your throat, you try and answer, but he chooses that moment to start moving gently within you, curling and uncurling his fingers at an agonisingly slow pace.

“Is that right?” He sounds so innocent but you can feel his smirk against your shoulder.

“That summer, we were- we were sixteen-” you stutter your way through your sentence as his thumb begins to gently rub at your clit. He presses a kiss to your sternum, before looking up at you expectantly; you want to laugh at his innocent act, but the moment you make eye contact, he presses deliberately against both your clit and your g-spot, and your head drops back to the mattress, letting out a low, heavy chuckle, more akin to a moan. Almost all words leave you as your reach down to hold his hand in place, hips rolling in time with the way his fingers moved inside of you. “There, right there.” You whimpered, letting go when he kept the rhythm, letting your hands fist in the sheets of the bed.

“Fuck that’s hot.” You hear him murmur under his breath, and when you look at him, he slows down, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to give him an amused look, heart still beating erratically as he continues to finger you at a steady rhythm. He looks a little surprised that the words had even left his mouth. “What? You are.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but be endeared by his earnest honesty.

“Take off your pants, you dork.” You grinned, biting your lip and pressing your thighs together as he removed his hand from your panties, leaving you feeling a little empty.

“So you were saying; when we were sixteen you wanted to fuck me?” He asked, tone light as he pulled off his sweat pants, and you chuckled, shifting to sit against the headboard, lazy grin on your face as your own fingers dipped into your panties.

“Pretty much.” You admit easily, and he snorts out a laugh. “I remember, it was like Mid-July, I came over for dinner and you were washing your mom’s car, just wearing board shorts,” and you trailed off, making a low hum of approval at the memory, gasping sharply as you pinched at your clit. Finally, Joe looks at you, now in his boxers, and he goes completely still, watching your hand work.

“Babe, I was so pasty.” He moves automatically, hands on your hips pulling the fabric down your legs, leaving you exposed as you opened your legs for him.

“You’re still pasty.” You smirk as you watch him kiss his way up your inner thigh, grip tight on your thigh like he knows you like. He takes your clit in his mouth, sucking hard, making you arch into him, cocky amusement evaporating with a whimper. It only takes a moment, his tongue flicking across the bud, before he’s moving further up, pressing kisses to your stomach, biting gently at the swell of your breasts with an almost awed laugh when you moan at the sensation. 

“Taking your time there?” You ask, gently lifting his chin when he presses his lips to your chest, and he grins, a little devilish as if happy to be caught in the act.

“Sorry, I was just remembering...” and he’s wearing this shit-eating grin as he sits back, reaching into the bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and opening it easily, “about five minutes ago my girlfriend was worried I’d leave her for my fancy, Post-Bohemian Rhapsody lifestyle.” He slides off his own underwear, and you suppress a fond smile. “I’m just trying to prove that that’s not going to happen.” He pulls you by the hips towards him once the condom is secure, and he pauses for a moment, the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Well don’t keep me waiting.” Voice low and seductive, you moan, long and breathy as he sinks slowly into you.

“Never, baby.” He murmurs into your ear before capturing your lips in a kiss. He starts so slow, so deliberate, and your move your hips to match his pace, breath catching when your hips meet his and you can feel him hit deep inside of you. It’s like a switch has been flipped, the teasing banter leaving your mind as all you can think about is his cock inside of you, his hand on your thigh pulling your leg up, closer to him.

Your nails dig into his back, you can feel him press a groan into your neck. You reach down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, and your head falls back as you play with your clit as Joe fucked you.

“God, baby you feel so good.” He presses a kiss to your throat, his grip on your thigh tightening.

“So good.: You agree, as if the words were being pulled from you. He slows down for a moment, moving back to look you in the eyes. Seeing you looking up at him through your lashes, pupils blown wide, and lips swollen from where you’d been biting them to keep yourself quiet, he can’t help but snap his hips to meet yours, if only to hear your gasp, watch your eyes flutter closed for a moment.

“I’m all yours, baby, I promise.” And you reach up with your free hand to pull him in to a kiss, moaning and sloppy against his lips, rolling your hip lazily, enjoying the new pace.

“All mine.” And there’s a self-assuredness in your voice, with him deep inside of you, his hands on your thigh, that hits him right in the chest. If you’d asked him right now, he’d walk through hell for you without hesitation. “I love you.” And he’s still a little dazed. 

“I love you too.” He responds, and he feels your hands on his hips, sees the way you’re biting your lips, and his pulse gets even more erratic, if possible. Moving with him, the two of you role until he’s laying on the mattress, and you’re straddling him. It only takes you a moment to reposition him before you’re sliding down onto his cock, taking a moment to just enjoy the feeling of fullness, before you start grinding against him.

“Fuck.” He breathes, hands steady on your hips, loosing himself in the sensations. And then you’re leaning over him, lips against his, kissing him hard, as you rode him, moving down and sucking a hickey into his chest, as one of his hands comes up to pinch at your nipples. “Fuck, I love you, baby.” He moans, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“I love you too, God, I love you so fucking much.” And your eyes flutter closed as he begins rubbing at your clit. You’re both so close as you grind against him, his hips rolling against yours, cock hitting inside of you at just the right angle as you leaned back a little, and the words falling from your lips are incomprehensible, but all you can hear is his moans, and praises as he tells you how good it feels to be inside of you.

You come with a high moan, leaning forward and pressing your forehead to his, hips still rolling as he comes a few moments later, pressing desperate kisses to your lips, holding your hips steady, flush against him as he buries himself deep inside of you. The world stands still for just a moment, your pussy still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you let out a shaky laugh.

“So is that how the fantasy usually turned out?” You asked, catching your breath for a moment before you climb off of him, flopping onto the bed beside him. Joe snorts out a laugh, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to head to the bathroom and dispose of the condom.

“I never really got that far.” He admitted, and you let yourself relax and chuckle into the easy silence of the room.

“I think I could do another thing high school you would have fantasized about.” You call out, and when he returns, there’s an amused look on his face, his eyebrow raised with interest. You beckon him over and he sits on the bed against the headboard at your insistence. You take his now soft cock in your hand, gently pumping it a few times.

“You’re gonna have to give me a few minutes before round two.” He insisted, and you smiled softly at him, hand still gentle on his dick.

“I know, I just wanna make you feel good.” And it’s so sweet and honest that Joe feels like his heart’s going to melt as he takes your face in his hands and plants a kiss on your lips.

“You do, baby.” He murmurs, and the two of you are quiet for a moment, resting your foreheads together, his hands cupping your cheeks, your hand still working his dick where it was already half hard.

“I just wanna,” you try to explain, though he can hear the wicked smile in your words without even opening his eyes, “make you feel as good as I do when you tell me you love me while you’re so fucking deep in me.” And Joe lets out a low groan, his cock twitching in your hand.

“You’re far too hot for your own good.”

Against empathy 17

“Finally, empathy is related to compassion and concern, and sometimes the terms are used synonymously. But compassion and concern are more diffuse than empathy. It is weird to talk about having empathy for the millions of victims of malaria, say, but perfectly normal to say that you are concerned about them or feel compassion for them. Also, compassion and concern don’t require mirroring of others’ feelings. If someone works to help the victims of torture and does so with energy and good cheer, it doesn’t seem right to say that as they do this, they are empathizing with the individuals they are helping. Better to say that they feel compassion for them.”

But what’s compassion? In the neuroscience it seems to be “empathy + motivation to help” or sometimes, if the study is noting thei differences, something like “awareness + motivation to help.” Which would make compassion something more than a feeling?

I’m not as wedded to this, most common usage suggests compassion is a feeling. But If it is... if it’s com with + passion suffering/intense feeelong, that sounds a lot like affective empathy. So ???? What is

“But this claim about the relationship between empathy and certain good traits is an empirical one, something that can be tested using standard psychological methods. For instance, you can measure someone’s empathy and then look at whether high empathy predicts good behaviors such as helping others. Now this is easier said than done. It’s hard to accurately measure how empathic a person is. But there have been various efforts, and it turns out that the relationship between empathy and goodness is weak. In fact, we’ll see that there is some evidence that high empathy for the suffering of others can paralyze people, lead them to skewed decisions, and often spark irrational cruelty.”

Oo! Data! Forthcoming data, at least.

“If it turned out that the first fact follows from the second—that the nastiness associated with psychopathy is due to an empathy deficit—that would be an excellent case for the importance of empathy. But this is also the sort of thing that you can test in the lab, and it turns out to be unsupported. As we’ll see, the problems with psychopaths may have more to do with lack of self-control and a malicious nature than with empathy, and there is little evidence for a relationship between low empathy and being aggressive or cruel to others.”

Oo! Data! x2!

Very interested in what a malicious nature is, and whether it includes responses to others emotions. Nonconsensual sadism, for example, seems malicious and also seems like a response grounded in emotion. “I feel happy re your pain” vs “I feel sad re your pain”

“Think about your judgments about throwing garbage out of your car window, cheating on your taxes, spraying racist graffiti on a building, and similar acts with diffuse consequences. You can appreciate that these are wrong without having to engage in empathic engagement with any specific individuals, real or imagined.”

But those are bad because they upset or harm other people. Being aware that they do is part of why I don’t do them. Have we established that not wanting to upset or harm others is distinct from empathy? You assert that it is but I’m still not sure what you’re saying the mechanisms are. To the data!

“But, again, it’s easy to see that this is a mistake from everyday examples. I see a child crying because she’s afraid of a barking dog. I might rush over to pick her up and calm her, and I might really care for her, but there’s no empathy there. I don’t feel her fear, not in the slightest.”

Do you have to literally feel her fear to empathize with her? Or is it enough to, say, wince when she cries?

“Then there is all the laboratory evidence. We’ll see research from the lab of Tania Singer and her colleagues showing that feeling empathy for another person is very different from feeling compassion for that person—distinct in its brain basis and, more important, in its effects.”

That will help.

“We’ll learn about research into the effects of mindfulness meditation suggesting that the boost in kindness that this practice results in part because meditation allows one to stanch one’s empathy, not expand it.”

So will that. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen studies claiming the opposite. Huh.

““Reason,” David Hume famously said, is the “slave of the passions.” Good moral deliberation requires valuing some things over others, and good moral action requires some sort of motivational kick in the pants. Even if one knows the best thing to do, one must be motivated to do it. I believe this—I’ve never heard a good argument against it.”

Dances in the end zone.

“But it’s a mistake to see this as an argument for empathy. The “passions” that Hume talks about can be many things. They can be anger, shame, guilt, or, more positively, a more diffuse compassion, kindness, and love. You can be motivated to help others without empathy.”

Once again, I’m wondering how you define more diffuse here, but if you dohave data, I concede you may be right.

“He considers empathy but then rejects it as too weak: “it is not that feeble spark of benevolence which Nature has lifted up in the human heart.” Instead he pushes for some combination of careful deliberation and a desire to do the right thing.”

Where does the desire to do the right thing come from? That’s the dispute we’re having, or part of it anyway.

“I agree with this as well. Empathy can be used to support judgments and actions that, when we reason about them coolly, are morally virtuous. If the right thing to do is to give food to a homeless child, then empathy for the suffering of the child can motivate this giving. If the right thing to do is to expand our moral compass to include members of a once-despised group, empathy for members of that group can bring us there.”

Are you me? Because this is what im saying, that we have feelings and we check them against our reason and then act.

Sometimes we don’t have to check them against our reason, though, and that’s where we disagree. If my friend is sad, I can generally assume I don’t have to doubLe check whether I should comfort them (though I might ask if they’re a hugger) because daily life involves lots of shortcuts and they’re not alwTz bad.

“I have a personal example of this. When I was a graduate student, I read an article by Peter Singer arguing that citizens of prosperous countries should direct most of their money toward helping the truly needy. Singer argued that choosing to spend our money on luxuries like fancy clothing and expensive meals is really no different from seeing a girl drowning in a shallow lake and doing nothing because you don’t want to ruin your expensive shoes by wading in to save her. I was moved by this argument and would repeat the analogy to my friends, often when we were in bars and restaurants, and it suddenly occurred to me that we were engaged in the moral equivalent of killing children.”

I’m... I’m glad you don’t do something you believe is evil but that doesn’t hold at all.

“In Larissa MacFarquhar’s recent book, Strangers Drowning, she talks about the lives of do-gooders or “moral saints.” These are people who devote their lives to others. They know that there is immense suffering in the world, and unlike almost everyone else, they can’t direct their attention elsewhere; they are driven to help. Some of the individuals she profiles are deliberative and rational, similar to Zell Kravinsky.... But others who are profiled by MacFarquhar are individuals of feeling; they are emotionally moved by the suffering of others. This sensitivity often makes them miserable, but it can also push them to make a difference in ways that most of us would never even contemplate.”

Thanks for poin ting this out. It’s fascinating for one, but for two...

I do not at all consider myself a moral saint, but I do think I attempt to do good for the second reason. I suffered a great deal as a child and I feel strongly that the buck stops with me. I can’t save everyone, but the thought of anyone going through what I did if I can stop it revolts me, so I act.

When you tell me this revulsion SHOULD NOT motivate me, I don’t know what to do with that, sir.

Because I suspect you would approve of the actions I take or try to, but I don’t know that I can promise you I will keep doing them if I try to somehow force myself not to imagine the suffering of disabled kids like me.

THAt is why I disagree with you. Because I literally can’t promise I’ll keep going if I ignore the way I feel. And I know you’d rather I be mr. Kravinsky because you’re a singer fanboy

But I’m not.

“Or consider a recent study by Abigail Marsh and her colleagues, of people who choose to donate their kidneys to strangers. Consistent with my argument, these exceptionally altruistic individuals do not score higher on standard empathy tests than normal people. But they are different in another way. The researchers were interested in the amygdala—a part of the brain that is involved in, among other things, emotional responses. Their previous research had discovered that psychopaths had smaller than normal amygdalae and lessened response when exposed to pictures of people who looked frightened, so they predicted that these do-gooders would have larger than normal amygdalae and greater than normal response to fear faces. This was exactly what they found.”

I’ve heard that too but I heard that having the big amygdala IS associated with high empathy. Which I figured stood to reason because higher abilitgy to pick up fear from faces is reading emotions and parsing people’s emotions is necessary to vicariously feel them.

Interested to look that one up.

“Our bias shows up when we think about the power of fiction to stir up our empathy. Many, including myself, have argued that novels like Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Bleak House prompted significant social change by guiding readers to feel the suffering of fictional characters. But we tend to forget that other novels push us in different ways. Joshua Landy provides some examples: For every Uncle Tom’s Cabin there is a Birth of a Nation. For every Bleak House there is an Atlas Shrugged. For every Color Purple there is a Turner Diaries, that white supremacist novel Timothy McVeigh left in his truck on the way to bombing the Oklahoma building.”

This I agree with. I just think it’s important to use both empathy and reason because of this thing.

“The good news is that there are other ways to change people’s minds. We can, for example, use the truth. I know, that’s very old-fashioned. But consider An Inconvenient Truth, Al Gore’s documentary about climate change. That film did a huge amount for the environmental movement, all without making up a single lovable character or a single line of witty repartee.”

Okay but are you sure no one is empathizing with victims of climate disaster when watching it?

“But there is a continuum here. On the one extreme is empathy. This is the worst. Then somewhere in the middle is compassion—simply caring for people, wanting them to thrive. This has problems as well but fewer of them, and we’ll see that there is experimental evidence—including both neuroimaging studies and research on the effects of meditative practice—suggesting that compassion has some advantages over empathic engagement.”

A definition! Stop hiding those in walls of text, bruh.

Still interested in how caring doesn’t ultimately come from emotions about others also. To the data!

“Reason is subject to bias—we are imperfect beings—but at its best it can lead to moral insight. It is reason that leads us to recognize, despite what our feelings tell us, that a child in a faraway land matters as much as our neighbor’s child, that it’s a tragedy if an immunization leads to a child getting sick or if a furlough program leads to rape and assault—but if these programs nonetheless lead to an overall improvement in human welfare, we should keep them until something better comes along.”

Agree.

“I don’t mean to rag on my colleagues, but there is a certain lack of self-awareness about this point. It is one of the ironies of modern intellectual life that many scholars insist that rationality is impotent, that our efforts at reasoning are at best a smoke screen to justify selfish motivations and irrational feelings. And to make this point, these scholars write books and articles complete with complex chains of logic, citations of data, and carefully reasoned argument. It’s like someone insisting that there is no such thing as poetry—and making this case in the form of a poem.”

I’ve noticed that too. But I’m not sure this is totally fair. What I see (that I think makes sense) is the argument that we are more emotion driven creatures than we admit, and that often we hold to the idea that something is rational if we THINK we haven’t emoted about it.

I think this is often untrue, and that were actually less likely to err if we are reflective enough to admit “my emotions and my reason seem to concur on this point.”

“To take a specific case, I will argue that our empathy causes us to overrate present costs and underrate future costs. This skews our decisions so that if, say, we are faced with a choice where one specific child will die now or twenty children whose names we don’t know will die a year from now, empathy might guide us to choose to save the one. To me, this is a problem with empathy.”

Not a utilitarian, so unsurprisingly I don’t automatically agree. If I kill someone and explain I meant to save others in the next generation, cool motive. Still murder.

The Taste of Something Stolen, Part 1: Beginning

Pairing: Batcat

Rating: T

Summary: Some people steal kisses. Selina Kyle is a thief by profession, she doesn’t have time for this touchy-feely stuff - if anything, she kisses in order to steal. However, whenever Bruce Wayne gets involved, her current theft usually ends up being a little bit of both.

A short series of loosely connected one-shots :)

It was Friday noon and seventeen-year-old Selina Kyle was observing the coming and goings of the Diamond District, Gotham’s financial district, her green eyes scanning the crowd for a target. So what if she was swiping some business shark’s wallets? They had their more than lucrative jobs to go to every day of their mundane lives - Selina, on the other hand, was going to be put out on the streets as soon as she was turning eighteen (not that the orphanage was a place she was gonna miss, but career opportunities were few and far between for an orphaned troublemaker from the East End - she was just making sure she had a financial cushion to fall back on when ‘Day X’ arrived.)

She had worked out a true and tested procedural method: with her backpack half open, she’d “accidentally” bump into her target (normally some boring middle-aged white man, as most of these suits were), the contents of her backpack would be sent flying across the ground, causing enough of a distraction for Selina to pick the (by now full on swearing) man’s pocket - by the time her target had finished cursing her out, Selina had safely stowed away Angry White Man’s money in her own pocket.

It wasn’t exactly the most fun method, but the satisfaction of a job well done as well as the fruits of her labor made it worth it.

This had been going on quite successfully for a couple of weeks now; so successful in fact, that Selina was getting a little bored if she was being honest with herself. Which is why Selina had decided to switch it up a little today.

Her newest mark was just now exiting Wayne Enterprises, wearing a simple, but very expensive-looking black coat and a brooding expression on his face. He appeared to be around Selina’s age and was already parading around the biggest companies in Gotham (the Rolex on his arm made it more than clear that he was not just some low-paid intern at WE) - the stark contrast between her own situation and Mr. Silver Spoon just affirmed Selina in her choice of a target: In a way, she was just leveling the playing field, if you really thought about it… She was simply… redistributing all that wealth a little among their age group...

As an added bonus, he was actually pretty handsome, something that would make the execution of her exit strategy, should she have to fall back on it, a little more bearable...

After making sure that everything was ready for her little maneuver, Selina shouldered her backpack determinedly and headed for the rich kid; apparently deep in thought, he didn’t seem aware of Selina gravitating closer and closer to him until - WHACK - they collided. Slightly stumbling backwards due to the force of their impact, Selina felt a strong, protective hand gripping her elbow - rich boy was actually making sure she wouldn’t fall (a nice, if superfluous gesture, Selina registered.) The stacks of loose papers and pens Selina had stuffed into her backpack practically exploded all over the ground. Rich boy took a closer look at her although not to see who he was going to yell at, as Selina expected him to, but to determine if she was okay. She must have looked alright to him, as he quickly withdrew his hand from her elbow, shot her a apologetic look and then went on to kneel down to gather her belongings...

Selina quickly dropped to her knees as well, grabbing for the useless notes and pencils scattered everywhere, making sure to keep up appearances.

Rich boy handed her a stack of papers, an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going - did you just steal my wallet right now?”

The befuddled look on his face would have been amusing to Selina if this didn’t mean that she had been caught red-handed.

Before she could make a run for it, rich boy’s hand wrapped itself around her wrist - his grip this time a lot firmer than before.

“Give it back,” rich boy said - no, ordered; it wasn’t that Selina was surprised to find out that rich boy knew how to boss people around, but the authoritative tone in his voice, coupled with that steely look in his gray-blue eyes… it was a little unsettling.

But not enough to have Selina lose her composure; with a nonchalant shrug, she handed over rich boy’s wallet - it was then that she noticed the letters B and W that were engraved in the fine leather and something heavy settled in her chest.

And yet, that still didn’t keep her from getting her claws out instead of keeping her mouth shut:

“It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

Rich boy countered her provocative glare with an intensity she hadn’t been prepared for - it started off as a stern warning, but then turned into something more calculating, scrutinizing; she could feel his blue eyes scan every inch of her, taking note of her threadbare jacket and scuffed shoes.

As suddenly as it had come about, their staring contest ended.

“You’re right,” rich boy agreed calmly, opening his wallet to take out the bills inside - from what Selina could see, she would have assumed them to amount to about $500.

“I’d rather keep my wallet though - it’s a birthday gift,” rich boy told Selina sedately before holding the cash out, for her to take.

Selina just gave him a bewildered look. He was certainly the weirdest person she’d ever met. And his offer may be tempting, but she still had her pride:

“I don’t accept handouts,” she said simply, crossing her arms demonstratively.

Now it was rich boy’s turn to be perplexed.

“You would have just snagged it if I hadn’t noticed in time - but when I give it to you freely, you won’t take it?”

“I’m not just some charity case you can throw your money at, just so that you can feel like the great benefactor,” Selina replied disdainfully, “I’m not interested in money I haven’t earned.”

Rich boy seemed to consider her response earnestly. After a short moment of contemplation, he finally put his money back into his wallet and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

“Fair enough.”

Selina arched an eyebrow. She really couldn’t figure this guy out.

He gave her a shrug, “Well, don’t let me keep you from work.”

His sorry attempt at humor couldn’t conceal the disapproval embedded in his words.

Selina knew that there was no reason at all why she should care about some entitled rich kid’s opinion of her, but something about this guy just rubbed her the wrong way:

“Listen, Mr. High-And-Mighty: what I do is not so different from what all of these -” she gestured at the financial sharks roaming the plaza - “are doing here; at least I steal from the ones that can afford it.”

Rich boy put up his hands in a defensive gesture.

“I didn’t mean to be condescending and I’m not denying that you have a point about unethical business practices being a profound issue, especially in this city…”

He paused for a moment, then, an amused expression made its way unto his face:

“I guess I just don’t know what you say to a pickpocket when they decide to get back to “work”; - Break a leg?”

Selina raised an eyebrow again.

“Does this look like a theater performance to you?”

Rich boy only shrugged, a hint of a smile on his lips, before giving it another try: “Good luck?”

Now Selina was truly offended.

“I don’t need luck; I’m very good at what I do.”

He stared at her, quirking an eyebrow.

“You just got caught in the act,“ he pointed out incredulously.

Selina shrugged it off: “An outlier; doesn’t count.”

This time, a full-on smile played on his lips, “Oh, that’s how it is?”

Selina couldn’t help the pouty tone seep into her voice as she defended herself:

“People don’t just offer to help someone that ran into them! Your stupid niceness ruined my plan.”

“What was I supposed to be doing?” rich boy asked, his tone of voice indicating that he was both amused and curious.

Selina couldn’t believe that anyone could be that clueless, but she still decided to spell it out for him: “Yell at me that I should look where I’m going - add in a couple of insults and you are golden.”

“Even if I was the one who didn’t pay attention?”

Selina rolled her eyes.

“Of course.”

“Huh. I’ll keep that in mind for future reference, so as not to ruin your plan the next time around.”

Selina cocked her head to the side, the ghost of a grin on her face, “You really think I’m bold enough to attempt stealing from you again?”

Rich boy shrugged slightly, “You strike me as a very dauntless person,” he said quite matter-of-factly.

Selina smirked, taking a deliberate step forward, invading his personal space, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Rich boy appeared to be taken aback by her action, but he didn’t move away.

“It’s just an observation,” he said with a shrug, his voice wavering just the tiniest bit; but Selina knew that she was getting under his skin.

She tapped her chin in pretend thoughtfulness, her eyes glinting playfully.

“Hmh, there is an error in your reasoning, though.”

Rich boy knitted his brows, “What erro-”

But before he could finish his question, Selina cut him off by drawing him in for a kiss. She must have startled him for good, because it took rich boy a few seconds until hes started to respond to her lips.

Before he got too comfortable, Selina broke off the kiss, a wicked grin now adorning her face.

“You assumed I’d use the same trick twice.”

“Wha-”

His eyes flew to his coat pocket his hand fumbling for the fanciful engraved wallet. When rich boy finally managed to pry it out, a puzzled look appeared on his face.

“I still have my -”

When he looked up, Selina had already disappeared into the crowd.

“...wallet.”

His eyes scanned the plaza, searching for that mysterious, brazen girl who had just tried stealing from, and had ended up kissing him right here in public - but he couldn’t find her anywhere. With a curious feeling, he opened his wallet - to find that all the bills had been taken out.

Bruce couldn’t help the amused smile growing on his face, as he pocketed the wallet Alfred had given him for his eighteenth birthday.

“Hmh. Bold indeed.”

To be continued... here.

I've started the process of writing my own love story. Its not a fanfic, but an original novel that I plan on completing someday. However, even though I already have the main story planned out, Im having a hard time with dialogue and coming up with ways for my characters to interact with each other(if that makes sense) I was just wondering if u have any tips 4 me. I know this doesn't have anything to do with gladiator, but im a huge fan of your writing style and would love to hear your advice.

Hmmm… well, dialogue is a little tricky. From what I’ve been taught in school, there are three different kinds of texts that can comprise a narrative text: action (the actual narration), description and dialogue. Action moves things forward, description somewhat stops time, and dialogue can achieve either thing, depending on how it’s used.

But dialogue also helps a lot when it comes to characterization. Dialogue is meant to convey information between characters, and characters, like real people, have different points of view, disagreements, points in common, and so forth. Each of your characters has had different experiences, and often dialogues are the best way to bring up those experiences (having a character talk about something that happened to them is often more dynamic than simply explaining it in descriptive or narrative text).

So, with that in mind, how to write dialogue? First things first: imagine yourself in the shoes of a character. Dialogue is the best empathy exercise I’ve ever done, because it really forces you to forget yourself and to picture yourself in someone else’s shoes for a moment (kind of like what an actor does). Two characters are unlikely to respond in the exact same way to the same events. Say that there are two characters in a sports game and one team scores: one of the characters cheers and the other grumbles in frustration.  You can know, just through dialogue, that one character supports the winning team and the other supports the losing one.

Dialogue can be difficult, but it’s a really good tool for characterization, too often better than description or narration. Yes, actions speak very loudly, but a character can be incredibly elegant in actions and appearance, only to swear like a sailor once their dialogue begins (then you’d get a pretty funny contradiction between appearance and behavior that makes for an amusing character). In short, dialogue is how a character interacts with the world around them, with their friends and enemies, with their family and strangers (characters also interact differently with each kind of relationship I mentioned here, the same way real people do). So when you write dialogue you give your character a voice, and as in real life, everyone has different voices.

You’ve said you’re writing a love story… dialogue, to me, is essential for romance. I don’t know what kind of story it is for sure, but whether your characters are instantly attracted to each other or absolutely can’t stand each other at first…? You need to bring up situations for dialogue to produce genuine bonding. Physical attraction alone isn’t enough to establish actual love, most fiction these days makes a deliberate effort to go beyond that, so dialogue is a must in your line of work. Dialogue is how you show chemistry between your characters, how you prove to your readers that these two characters have plenty to offer each other and can have a very special bond.

My advice is… generate situations where dialogue can happen between them. Push the plot so that they have no choice but to interact. Their first dialogues may not go too far in establishing meaningful bonding, but that’s where you’ll have to produce situations where they get to bond. Using Gladiator as an example, in chapter 9, when I brought Sokka to the Barge’s deck and he found Azula training there, they end up training together for the first time in the story. Azula’s warrior training shows, but she’s no expert with the sword. Because of this, the subject of why she never trained with Piandao came up, and this is the first time Sokka hears about her conflicts with her mother. Azula finds herself telling him about this, while obviously holding back a lot of information he didn’t need to know, but she’s still sharing something with him that she hasn’t shared with most people (namely… because nobody else has asked her about any of this before :’D).

That exchange is what I consider the first real bonding scene between them in the story, where they first truly respected one another and their many differences, while finding a little common ground, too. Knowing Azula wasn’t allowed to learn how to use swords gave Sokka the chance to offer to teach her, many chapters later. Teaching her becomes not only another perfect excuse for them to spend time together, but it strengthens their relationship because he’s somehow fulfilling one of her dreams.

And it all started with that dialogue!

So, allow your characters to have important things in their lives aside from their relationship (as it is here with Sokka, Azula, training, bending, swords and such). If they have common interests it becomes easier to weave in a romantic storyline. If they have diametrically different interests, you can weave in the romance anyways because of how they try to conciliate those differences. Give them more substance aside from their relationship (which is realistic, as people in real life tend to have much more going on in life aside from just romance), and soon enough you’ll have two characters who can interact at leisure. From casual talk, like what I explained above with Gladiator as an example, you can get a conversation that will move dynamically and organically through many topics. If it’s a meaningful conversation, it can come back sometime later, once one of the character brings it up like “hey, remember when you told me about *insert topic here*…?”, as it was with Sokka and Azula’s interest in swordsmanship, or when Sokka remembered later that Azula’s relationship with her mother wasn’t that good, knowledge he acquired thanks to this particular exchange.

In any case, this is what I recommend. But for other important things to note with dialogue:

Small talk is a thing: while some people will tell you that you should NEVER have empty, pointless dialogue in a story (because a story should be concise), people in real life can have some really pointless conversations. Yes, your dialogue, ideally, should always convey new information, but don’t be unforgiving with yourself if it doesn’t. Sometimes you need a few lines of empty small talk before you can get to the real meat of the exchange. The main thing to avoid, though, is turning a serious conversation into meaningless small talk, but I’ll expand on that in point 3.

People have different vocabulary: this is something that can cause trouble in some ways. It’s been a little complicated for me in recent times, I used to be better at it. But part of characterization is knowing what kind of words your character would use, and what kind they wouldn’t. You can have characters who are very eloquent with their dialogue (I try to do this with Ozai, because really, it takes some real weirdo to say things like “the universe delivers you to me as an act of providence”, canonically), others who are less so, and some who would just have absolutely no fancy words in their vocabulary altogether.Important thing to note: your characters, unless they’re meant to be you, or are educated exactly like you, probably won’t talk exactly as you do. One particular problem I’ve seen in some writers is that they can’t seem to change the speech pattern of characters, either they aren’t sure how or just don’t know how to do it, and it gives the feeling of mechanical dialogue, because it’s like you’re just reading the narrator’s voice rather than the character’s. Whether you’re making fanfiction or original fiction, your characters should have different speech patterns from yours/the narrator’s, unless there’s a very good reason for them not to have them (example, you can have a character who loves using literary quotes when talking, and you can also have a character who’s never read any high literature: by logic, the second character shouldn’t be able to use any of the quotes the first one uses in common dialogue).

Make dialogue meaningful when it has to be: I am a fan of small talk, of simple conversations between characters that can be pretty easy-going, casual, what have you. I don’t need every exchange between characters to be filled with “I AM YOUR FATHER!”-like revelations. But I recently watched at TV show that had just featured a “character death”, and it provided a perfect opportunity for the character’s best friends to talk about what happened (and to properly talk about how one of them was going to fill the “dead character’s” shoes from there on), and… the dialogue that should have been important was absolutely, entirely, meaningless. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t move either character in any direction. You barely even felt like they were affected by their friend’s “death”, that’s probably the worst part of it all (they shoehorned one of the characters getting tears in her eyes at random, despite the conversation’s emotional charge was equal to zero).In conclusion: when something big has happened, your characters will show emotion, will react emotionally, and if they don’t, there’s a chance they’re just bottling things up (and you should imply the bottling up through dialogue, which can be done). When caught up in awful circumstances, characters cannot simply indulge in small talk, or pointless conversations that lead nowhere. It’s in these cases where strong dialogue is needed. Anticlimactic dialogue is a very unpleasant thing to have in your story, as it can break all suspension of disbelief from your readers.

Don’t be afraid of having multiple characters in one conversation: I’m not a fan of big conversations in real life, but multiple voices in fiction have been ridiculously fun for me to write. Yes, you need to be versatile and switch positions with every new character you write, but for instance, I really enjoyed writing the Gaang talking at the cafeteria table in IHTBY. When you bring together characters from different backgrounds, different experiences, and have them interact with each other, you find yourself with all sorts of different chemistry between all of them: you can have characters who get along well, characters who like to bicker with each other, characters who have entirely different views in life, characters who have crushes on each other… you can have virtually anything. And that provides the opportunity for dynamic dialogue scenes that, for reasons beyond my understanding, a lot of writers seem to avoid like the plague. Granted I’m not saying you should make every single dialogue a multi-character dialogue, but I do recommend that you don’t run away from this, because I’ve seen people who do that and it only seems to hinder their stories in the end.

Your character will behave differently depending on whom they’re talking to: this is something I mentioned earlier, but I’ll mention it again: Azula doesn’t talk with Sokka with the same cautious respect she usually has to muster when talking to her father. When she threw that caution into the wind (as she did in a recent Gladiator chapter), not only was she terrified while doing it, but she took Ozai and everyone else around them by surprise. Likewise, she wouldn’t talk to any strangers the same way she talks to Sokka or her father.Characters will respond differently to other characters, depending on how guarded or how free they feel around the other person. Depending, too, on what sort of relationship they have with the opposite person: Sokka is Azula’s partner and lover, he has seen Azula for who she is, entirely, which means she’s at her most open when she’s with him. Toph, Ty Lee, Mai and others are Azula’s friends, they know she has a her softer side but they haven’t seen it nearly as often as Sokka has, so Azula is more reserved around them than around Sokka. Ozai is her father, due to her relationship with him she endeavors to NEVER show him her soft/weak side, so she’s VERY guarded when talking to him. Likewise, she didn’t show her soft/weak side to Zuko, her brother, until a little while before they parted ways, because she couldn’t let him see she wasn’t absolutely perfect, so she was very reserved with him, too, even if she would lower her guard just enough to torment him whenever she felt like it.An important example, with which I seem to break this rule (despite I kind of don’t…) is Sokka: he’s constantly horrifying people everywhere because of how he talks boldly to Ozai, apparently not holding back at all (truthfully, he holds back a lot more than most my characters seem to realize x’D). He doesn’t get a pass for this: everyone thinks he’s crazy for showing so little respect to the Fire Lord. Ozai thinks it’s amusing, sure, but most other people are horrified. If you have a character who talks to everyone the same way, regardless of authority or different positions in the world, other characters need to respond to it, especially if it’s as far out of place as it is when Sokka does it in Gladiator.

Let the character guide you: once you’ve established your character, dialogue can become a matter of impulse (as it happens to me most times). Only a couple of hours ago I had to backtrack on an exchange between two characters where one of them responded negatively to what the other character said. I couldn’t really write it differently, because the one character could only be offended by the other character’s words. I had to modify the full dialogue so that the response to the first line of dialogue wouldn’t turn a playful conversation into an argument.In short, you can’t force a character to behave or respond to situations in ways they don’t want to. If your character leads you in one direction, you can’t double down on them and make them act differently than they would. Once you feel characters moving by themselves in one direction or another you know for sure that you’ve been able to understand them… but that is a full compromise, so to speak. If you understand them, it means you understand why they respond to things the way they do, and you also understand why they wouldn’t respond any differently than how they do. So, if you’re faced with a problem like the one I described in the previous paragraph... change the situation, or the previous dialogues that can be altered (if changing the previous character’s dialogue disrupts their characterization too, you’ll have to rewrite from further back). Just, don’t force a puzzle piece where it doesn’t fit. That only harms your story further in the end. It takes away the life in your characters, because they feel less consistent and therefore, less believable.

I’m not sure if I can come up with anything else… but if you have any other specific questions about dialogue-writing that I didn’t answer here, just let me know and I’ll give you a hand if I can do so! :D

i wanna rant about my shitty grandparents (mostly grandfather for now) and how my parents didnt deserve any of this.

a side story of how my parents met: my mom was from China and worked in a cafe (with lodging) for years. she wanted to leave china because the marriage laws werent very good to women, they didnt have a lot of rights, and people can just get married and divorced on a whim, and so a marriage there would make her feel very insecure.

she saw loads of men with fancy motorcycles they probably borrowed flirting with the waitresses and getting them pregnant even though some of those men were married already. she saw loads of waitresses in and out of the job, and so she willed to never give in to the flirtations and worked at the cafe till she was around 26.

my father’s boss was in that area once in a while and frequented that cafe. he noticed my mom who always remained there and was like hey she seemed to be a nice woman and so he introduced her to his son, aka my fathers colleague.

according to my mom, the son was a wishy-washy man who couldnt make up his mind. they went for a few dates and things werent really clicking. my father, however, said ‘i want her’ when he saw her and so the choice was made, they started dating, and she went back to china for the time being. they then maintained a long distance relationship with phone calls, and one year later she came to singapore and got married. 

cute, right?

then the in-laws hell, aka my grandparents begun.

and now my father’s backstory, first:

he was the classic example of the scapegoat i think. out of his siblings (an older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister), he was the one my grandparents hated the most. ‘hated’ isnt even an exaggeration, apparently hey did tell him explicitly that he was the one they hated the most. A+ parenting yall. when in school, while his siblings get 50cents and 30cents (in order of favouritism), he got 20cents or none. they didnt care about the education of their kids, and so my dad dropped out at P3 (9 years old) and the others all within primary school age. my aunt may have went further though, im not sure.

when he started working at 13, my grandma would wait at the door everytime he got his salary and took all of it away. i dont think he got to keep any of it. she gambled quite often and spent loads of money.

it was from these incredibly unfair xperiences on childhood that my dad swore he would treat and spoil his kids and not show favouritism.

my parents got married years later, and basically everyone in my extended family h a t e d my mom, despite it being entirely non-justified because my mom is a freaking wonderful woman who isnt afraid of hardwork. Because my mom came from china, im presuming that its some mixture of xenophobia and racism that made them say that my mom was only here to mooch off my dad, and treat her like shit, until they didnt as they finally opened their eyes.

over here, all men have to go through compulsory national serivce, and my dad was no exception. after serving the 2 years they have to go back periodically for reservist training. this is the background info for this incident im going to repeat from my mother.

after she got married over here, my dad still had to go for reservist training. they only had a limited amount of time to use the phone after one entire week. my mom called him, talked to him as his wife, before uncle2 (the younger brother) interruppted her and told her to stop using the phone. assuming that he had an emergency,  my mom quickly finished and hung up, my dad losing his rare few minutes to talk to his wife.

then uncle2 didnt use the phone.

god fucking damn it.

an example of unfair treatment: uncle1 had a different wife at that time. while my mom cooked entire meals for the family (they were living with my grandparents and uncle2 and probably aunt at that time) while being pregnant, when it came to be her birthday, my grandma didnt give her a red packet (gift of money). ‘im an old woman who hasnt worked for years, i have no money’.

then when it came to uncle1′s wife, who had never cooked any food and only got takeaways when she visited, she got a big shiny red packet from my grandma.

yeah, what the hell. my mom said she was very upset about this and cried. god, she was surrounded by people who hated her and yet she still worked so hard for them, she genuinely doesnt deserve this.

heres another thing about my grandma: apparently she gambled so often she oftently went to genting to gamble and the money all came from her kids. yeah. .

(my dads a chef, uncle1 is a mechanic, uncle2 is a part timer with no set jobs, and aunt is unknown.)

then i was born. my mom wasnt a citizen, and had to pay a lot of money to stay in the most expensive hospital word. the rare good thing my grandpa did was to fork out $2000 for her to have me. one day, if i can and he isnt dead yet, i will pay him back. ‘thats your coffin money’ i will say. ‘im not obligated to you anymore please leave my life forever’ i want to say.

looking back at the thick stack of photo albums, things appeared to be all happy and fun. people were smiling in the pictures, and i was showered in love and affection from everyone. it is only recently that i came to learn of the shit my parents went through under them.

i was also a lively and boisterous child who had no concept of day and night, it was almost enough to scare my parents into not having my siblings. nonetheless, my sister came into existence.

picture this: my dad looking all frazzled and tired as he took care of a wild toddler at the hospital without sleeping for 3 days straight, and my mom in labour, waiting to give birth. the nurse asked why wasnt anyone there to help out? 

my mom said that was the only time she had ever seen my dad cry. my sister, my mom, and i all teared up as she recounted this.

it was then they swore to move out and not to rely on anyone ever again. the house i am in now is paid entirely by my parents.

my sister was born, and eventually, they moved out before my brother was born.

when they moved out, my grandma shouted at them ‘dont come back! i hope you die!’

at one point, or perhaps distance made the heart grow fonder, my grandparents and uncles started to treat my mom very nicely, realising that they were utterly wrong to judge and treat her that way at the beginning. thats why they treat her so nicely now, my mom explained. it is also the reason why my grandma always brought kuehs and chocolate cake over when she visited, subsequently developing my dislike of chocolate cake and neutrality towards chocolate at best. at this point im pretty sure they all like my mom more than my dad.

my aunt learnt her lesson in the form of receiving discrimination and hatred she once showed to my mom upon being married to a family of university graduates, and her only graduating secondary school. she wasnt as well-educated, and so after sharing my moms pain of being the hated daughter in law she finally learnt empathy and started being nice.

my grandpa too was a convert. he came over everyday to help out with chores and to take care of us. perhaps when we were all young the help was truly needed back then, but then some events made everyone question his motives...

i remember him fetching me from kindergarten every day every time. i wondered why my dad never did, and was happy on the occasions he did. it is only years later that i learnt that my grandpa hogged all those times to fetch us (my siblings and i). he outright refused to let my parents especially my dad to fetch us. on the occasions that my dad came, he threw a tantrum and went home. my dad was visibly upset as he recount this to us. ‘it felt like he was keeping my kids away from me’ he said. he has taken so much from my dad, and now even his kids???? im so upset on his behalf??

it genuinely feels like hes controlling everyone around him.

he is still coming over every single day, and from what i can tell he is incredibly passive aggressive and can never be satisifed with my dad. i dread his arrival.

for example, he refuses to eat anything my dad cooked. my dad, a known chef. once my dad made a noodle dish for dinner, he told my dad oh i cant eat noodles for dinner.

cue him eating the noodles my mom cooked for dinner.

cue him getting noodles for takeaway for dinner.

these days whenever my dad cooks for dinner we just give him money for takeaway.

speaking of leaving that ungrateful old bastard money, he also takes issue with my dad for this somehow. my dad left a note saying that thats his dinner money on the table, and he felt that it was so disrespectful he went to my moms workplace which is near where he lives and complained to her.

meanwhile my mom did the exact same thing and he had zero complaints.

when my dad fell asleep in my brothers room with my brother in it, he walked in and deliberately talked at the top of his lungs about some trivial matter that never came up in the years of living here.

the creepy amount of adoration he shows my mom is also apparent in how he would follow my tired sweaty mom after shes home from work  everywhere to talk and yabber on about irrelevant things. she was obviously busy and wanted to be left alone, but hey that POS never cared about what anyone ever thought or wanted if its in conflict to what he wants. sometimes she had to close the door just to get him to leave her alone, and once he just opened the door and continued talking. my dad was enraged, he said he almost went to start a fight with him, and he would especially if my mom was in the midst of changing at the time.

once my dad brought him to the doctor. ‘so what did they say’ he would ask my dad repeatedly over and over again after seeing the doctor. ‘you are fine, and if anything happens the doctor will inform us to go to the hospital’.

he went to complain to my mom at her workplace that my dad was cursing at him to get in the hospital.

once he was nosey and opened up our mailbox, and when he found some letters addressed to my dad he slammed the pile of letters next to him on the sofa. wtf

god, its like no matter what my dad does he will NEVER be happy.

a while ago he lent his children money, and said oh its not lending hes giving them money with no strings attached, no interest at all. my dad took some for renovation, and this info will come into play later.

and so life continues on with his insistence to tidy and clean my house, with zero regards to anyones wishes. if someone so much as point out that he isnt doing something right, he would exaggerate his actions and ask and repeat.

heres the incident that triggered the Revelations:

my grandpa asked my sister if she still wanted a donut while holding it in his entire hand, as in his entire hand was clutched around the donut. visibly disgusted, my sister said no, she didnt want it. in an act of passive aggressiveness, he placed the donut and only the donut directly in the fridge. not on a plate no nothing.

my mom wrote him a note in response: my daughters are having national examinations soon, and my husband has to wake at 5am to go to work, and he doesnt have enough rest. it would be preferable if you do not make as much noise so they can study and rest properly. i am saying this here, it doesnt matter if you help with the chores or not, it is entirely up to you and we will not blame you if you choose to rest and watch tv instead. you will always have a meal and you dont need to worry about anything else. hope you can understand.

in response, he wrote back: i have read all your words, and there is no need to worry. from november, i will no longer be coming over. i want your husband to return me the renovation money. from: dumb dad (thats what he calls himself in notes)

first of fucking all: wow hes not even acknowledging that my dad is his son. second of all, hes using the money to control my parents and guilt them wtf

this incident got kinda big in the sense that my aunt got involved. my aunt, the golden child, called to stage an intervention.

she called my siblings and i privately, without my parents knowledge. she asked me:

‘are you aware that he has hearing issues and cannot tell that hes being loud?’

‘can you cope with his average noise level?’

‘is he actually disturbing you guys?’

of course i am aware. i am used to it. i am not sure why my mom wrote about the noisy part, could be the fact that he refused to let my dad rest. to which i answered:

‘yes i am aware, no he is not that noisy’

and in a nicer way, i told her ‘frankly the issue is his character, that he is a pos shit i cant stand and after knowing what he did to my parents especially my dad i dont want him in my life at all i dont want him to come over anyways’

‘how much would you say that its mostly his fault that there is conflict or is your dad making a big deal out of nothing?’

i bit my tongue and said its my grandpa 95% of the time. there are one or two occasions that i would say my dad is over reacting.

then she went on and on about how she has to balance both perspective and pick the best outcome, and there are two sides etc etc

what fucking two sides i wanted to ask. my parents literally did nothing wrong. he was the hand that clutched at the donut and squished it.

eventually, she yelled at him and to serious disappointment hes coming over again.

a little interlude about my aunt: she complained to my mom afterwards (im surrounded by snitches) that i am not very respectful about my grandpa, that i am lazy and didnt help around the house often (i tidied and cleaned my room frequently, and if my mom ask me to do chores i would. theres an agreement that i should just concentrate on my studies and she will take care of the chores). i stay in my room all the time and didnt come out when my relatives came over. (listen, theres nothing for me. my cousins are ur typical boys that i cant talk to, they hog the xbox and scream about fifa all the time, im not exactly interested in the adults conversations).

my mom defended me, yall. even my aunt has to concede that im a decent person.

and my mom told me she didnt actually agree with the way shes raising my cousins. they were told to never question my aunt and uncle, and their orders are orders. my parents didnt agree, they believed in reason. for everything they tell us to do, there is a legit reason behind it, and we can question them. my mom want us to do well so that she can prove that shes right all along.

my brother recall asking the cousins why my relatives didnt allow them to do certain things and they just shrugged.

well, thats a bet i am willing to participate in.

back to my grandpa.

my parents reasoning is that as compared to taking revenge and stop contacting him, they rather treat him decently no matter what, knowing deep down they has always did their best.

due to the way healthcare works here, my dad shouldered most of the hospital bill and healthcare when his parents were in the hospital. because #asianvalues, they never did thank him or appreciate him.

either my parents or my aunt said they are scared that if we do anything too drastic like refusing him to come here, he will go senile and demented. as he is now he has a clear enough mind to remain a dickbag to my dad.

well, i wasnt exactly close to him, or as close as he deluded himself to think. i wasnt exactly patient with him, in the sense that i kinda have to raise my voice to communicate with him pretty often. heres the complicated relationship between languages: he speaks mostly teochew, and some chinese. we are expected to understand him when he speaks chinese to get across something, but somehow when i speak my perfectly accurate chinese back at him he understands nothing. he will smile stupidly at me, nodding as if he understood.

you fake old man. you understood nothing. i dont want to bother. i am mean for saying this. i hate your pretenses. quit acting like you understand.the conversations between us are fruitless and useless and has zero point. just now, you saying while im eating dinner that ‘you should give me 50 dollars. look at me, i have nothing. ahahahahaha’

i ignored him, as my cold shoulders got colder.

‘your mother did give me $120, i actually have money. what a good girl’

just, what the fuck is he on about. why are you even asking me for money when you have it. this is the exact type of inane pointless conversations you have. i dont even want to dignify that with a response.

he went to my sister, 3 meters away from me, and said the exact same thing.

my sister: [turning her pockets inside out] i have no money

him, repeating what he said , and adding on ‘you are a good girl, your sister is bad, she didnt want to give me money’ 

what the fuck. hes still talking to us like we are 5. he always treat us like were 5. once i facepalmed and he told me not to do that i will give myself brain damage. i proceed to whack my forehead 4 times, each whack resounding loud and clear.

god, i really dont want to interact with him. theres guilt niggling at me that i shouldnt treat him like this, pretending he doesnt exist as much as possible. then i remember what he did to my dad, and also kinda my mom, and something in me says ‘he doesnt deserve a relationship with his grandchildren for treating his own son like this’.

god, how do i get him to understand that i dont want anything to do with him? that i hate him? i stop calling him ‘grandpa’, only referring to him as that. i dont greet him when he come over anymore.

a few days? weeks? ago he said as he walked out of my room: ‘i still love you the most.’

thats the problem aint it? favouritism. and we all know you favour my brother the most, which i dont mind. i want you to stop doting on me, i want you to pretend i dont exist too. not in the way where you blatantly talk and criticise someone to somebody in front of the person you are criticising. 

when is karma ever coming for you?

nothing but you mattered to you, you dipshit. you never cared about how others may feel. you always did things your own way, you treat people whatever the hell you want to.

i visited you in the hospital after the operation on your balls, you were so happy afterwards you gave me a $50. i still wish i hadnt visited, you disgusting person. i wish i can give you the $50 back, but i think, ill keep it. i will treat it as a woeful attempt to ‘reward’ me for my love and affections. i will keep the money knowing that your love is not returned. cruel of me, but so were you.

i dont think there will ever be a resolution. i wont cry at your funeral, i will try not to. i did for my grandma, but that was before i knew the truth.

my mom told me it is undeniable that my relatives all doted and loved me. i want to reject your love. i want the right to not be loved.

Killing Book

Aka, the Death Note movie released this year. Now, I like Death Note (the anime of course). I watched it when I was like 12 or something and it introduced to the world of gory anime. So as you can expect, I was upset at seeing this movie, seeing the wrong things in the trailer and knowing it would be even more wrong in the movie. I was interested though, as one would be interested in watching a kid harmlessly fall so you can snicker at them. I avoided the movie even if I wanted to see the train wreck it was. But tonight, at somewhere around nine pm I decided NO MORE! I shall watch the movie and tell my friend how bad it was. We’ll be calling her Friend. I skype messaged her (i know who uses skype anymore? i do. because im lazy and dont want to change to discord) while watching it. Sadly she left early because she sleeps waaaaay earlier than I do. So at some point I’m just talking to myself. Just to let you know. Enjoy my ramblings.

WARNING: Obviously lots of death is mentioned. Also, if you liked the anime of Death Note, do NOT watched this movie. It’s horrible.

So this was taken directly from skype, with VERY little editing (just small things like personal stuff etc.) and it is rude, crude and not pleasant to look at. I tend to message a lot, in segments and that is was what made this so long. You have been warned.

Me: so I'm finally watching the death note movie Me: and I might rant at you a bit Me: first, its set in Washington in seattle Me: and lights fuckin blond frosted highlights Me: why

Friend: so Friend: 10/10

Me: its the best start a movie could ever have Me: so light is bullied and does homework for other classmates Me: who is this man? this isn't the light I know

Friend: maybe Friend: maybe Friend: just maybe Friend: someone kidnapped him

Me: god and now he likes this fark haired girl Me: dark Me: light loves no one Me: his heart is too icy to love Me: if only he was kidnapped Me: then at least he would break out and kill the person impersonating him

Friend: does he have the death note?

Me: yeah Me: its so different Me: its not the same at all Me: its like they just took the concept and fucked it Me: so the death note looks used even tho I pretty sure it was blank in the anime

Friend: it's for the money

Me: shit dude ryuk is in the house

Friend: is ryuk still cool thougj

Me: and light just fell over and is now running away Me: idk we'll see

Friend: does he still freak out over apples

Me: maybe Me: didn't ryuk show himself in lights room? Me: cause right now he's in school at detention Me: oh ryuk ate the apple

Friend: they met in his room

Me: welp here they met at detention

Friend: also it's to soon for light to know ryuk's obsession with apples

Me: its waaay too soon Me: I'm 10 minutes in Me: light didn't know ryuk for awhile Me: not almost immediately after getting the death note Me: also ryuk is persuading light into using it Me: anime light did not hesitate to kill a motherfuker Me: didn't need a demon to tell him what to do

Friend: wait Friend: what about the chip scene

Me: oh Me: what] Me: the Me: FUCK Me: they've ruined it

Friend: THE CHIP SCENE!?

Me: wasn't it a rule that if you put someone name without a death, theyd die of a heart attack like an hour later Me: well Me: fuck that rule Me: doesn't exist Me: they die by random bullshit means

Friend: WHAT?!?!!?

Me: also Me: no chip scene Me: yet Me: I'm waiting Me: anime light waited until he got home to kill a guy Me: but movie light was still at school and watched him die Me: heres what happened that absolutely gets rid of the heart attack rule Me: so a couple of kids had a basketball and dropped it when a woman's bags of groceries ripped Me: the kid chased after the ball into the street, where a car swerved to miss him Me: another car coming the opposite way swerved to miss the car and hit a parked car Me: a ladder on top of the crashed car got loose and decapitated the guy whose name was written Me: instantly after his name was written Me: wtf happened man

Friend: -.-

Me: also Me: apparently there are rules to the book Me: lemme get to the scene where he looked at them Me: but I know one of them was the holder of the death note can only hold it for 7 days Me: wtf?? Me: in the anime anyone could have for eternity if they wanted Friend: for as long as they lived or until they gave it up Me: atleast his dad is still a cop Me: but his mom is dead??

Friend: dfhnasjkfahdjkasdhf Friend: what

Me: by getting hit by a car by the guy he killed earlier Me: wtffffff Me: okay Me: okay Me: tell me what you get from this, its rule 65 of the book Me: "each page of the note contains the power of the whole note" Me: wtf does that mean?? Me: ooh Me: oooooooh Me: wait Me: is that the thing where you could tear a page out and it would still work? Me: wtf you gotta word it like that man

Friend: it's as bad as tests

Me: okay I got a previous rule wrong Me: it was rule 95 Me: anyone can write names in the note but only the keeper can have it longer than 7 days

Friend: -.- that's still stupid

Me: it is yeah Me: I'm pretty sure a death note was supposed to have one owner Me: I mean once you touched the paper, you were stuck with the powers until you died or gave it up Me: also Me: previous apparently wrote warning ramblings in the book for light to see Me: "don't trust ryuk"

Friend: -.- Friend: no

Me: he also said ryuk weird Me: I say ree-yook Me: he said rye-uhk

Friend: i'm sad Friend: i'm pissed

Me: and that's barely 20 mins in

Friend: need bleach?

Me: still another hour and a half left Me: god Me: 90 more mintes Me: ryuk is creepin in lights closet Me: light is offering an apple Me: ryuk is happy Me: ooh thank god Me: ryuk told light how to pronounce his name Me: I don't think I could live with light always saying his name wrong Me: ryuk looks gross Me: haven't seen him clearly yet tho Me: always in shadows

Friend: ryuk is cool

Me: movie ryuk is pretty chill Me: light has killed again Me: this time the gfather of the guy he killed ealier

Friend: is

Me: oky

Friend: is light killing innocent people

Me: heres how he died because I'm pretty sure light didn't right a death Me: not yet Me: so a couple knocked a salt shaker of a table at a restuarant Me: a waiter trips on it and bumps into the dude who will die Me: the father get knocked forward and stabs himself in the neck with a knife that he had been holding upwarrd Me: he sprays blood all over his guests and dies

Friend: why are the deaths so convoluted

Me: ryuk cackles in the background Me: I have no idea Me: wow steak sounds good right now Me: even tho I guy just died because of some Me: a Me: oops heres dark haired pretty girll in the bakground Me: she talked to light Me: wtf Me: who is this chick Me: she elooks like the next bella swan Me: turner Me: light turner Me: and her name is mia Me: what was the name of the blond girl who loved light?

Friend: yeah

Me: mia was her name? really? Me: she has no idea what a death note is Me: and light is showing it to her

Friend: fucking moron

Me: anime light would never do that Me: mia is laughing at hime Me: shit her name in the anime was misa Me: not mia Me: noe light is killing in front of mia Me: but at least hes using the news like anime light did Me: this movie is horrible

Friend: I wonder how they will ruin L Friend: i might cry at that part

Me: and I will tel you every wrong thing they do Me: so light and mia teamed up

Friend: i know you will

Me: even tho mia doesn't have a death note like anime misa did Me: and light want to kiss her Me: help Me: help Me: oh n Me: they Me: making out Me: I don't want to put skype down Me: hep Me: me

Friend: GET Friend: THE Friend: BLEACH!!!!!!!!!

Me: theyre done Me: no[e Me: not done Me: shit Me: okay Me: wait Me: stop' Me: they keep kissing Me: and its inbwteen scenes Me: so it surpried Me: me

Friend: life has no meaning

Me: okay hang on Me: how did light start getting called kira in the anime Me: didn't the public start calling that?

Friend: yea

Me: well light chose it in the movie Me: hes like Me: I want to be kalled kira Me: and now somehow the whole world knows Me: agh Me: nudity

Friend: >=c

Me: brief, dead women nudity Me: L is helping kira? Me: L informed kira of a club full of baddies

Friend: are you sure that's L

Me: yep Me: subtitles label him as L Me: here lemme send a screen shot Me: there it is Me: proven by the subtitles Me: L is originally from England right? Me: I cant tell if movie L is sitting like anime L

Friend: L is an orphan from England yes

Me: no accent Me: move L is american

Friend: i'm sorry japan

Me: gotta apologise to the mangaka who wrote death note

Friend: who

Me: idk their name

Friend: who the hell made the decision to make them..

Me: I have no idea Me: eath note was done and over years before they made this movie Me: why did they make it now?

Friend: money

Me: fuck the money Me: at least follow the god damn plot

Friend: yeah

Me: they used the right logo for L Me: that's nice Me: to see somethingsimilar Me: ugh Me: L is such a pig in the movie Me: hes got candy everywhere and is eating it messily Me: anime L was careful and deliberate

Friend: yeah

Me: ugh Me: they say "fuck" is this movie too much

Friend: i'm going to bed. you can keep ranting and i will respond tomorrow

After this point, it’s just me ranting so there will be no more Me: going on. Just a series of messages one after the other.

kay okay wait this was funny the movie did a funny so lights dad is meeting L in L's big fancy hideout and lights dad has his hand held out and and ice cream is just silently put in his hand with no information about it no one says a word about it he just holds the ice cream now L is speaking to a million reporters in broad daylight outside and movie L doesn't sit exactly the same as anime L hes in the same pose as anime L but movie L sits on his butt instead of sitting/squatting on his feet in the chair if that makes any sense L is calling out kira on the news ryuk likes L so apparently to kill using the book, you need a name AND a face but I'm pretty sure in the anime you only needed a name and now L isn't even sitting right hes lounging LOUNGING also mia cant see ryuk even tho shes touched the note book all the rules have been tossed out the window mia stole the book and is killing all the investigating agents oh siiit mia didn't do it ryuk did ryuk killed 13 people and now hes telling light to let the note go anime ryuk didn't do this he wanted light to have the note mia wants to kill lights dad so light and L have met in public and they fightin and light is being sooo suspicious they've got the weather in this movie right tho its constantly rainging shit mia told light she loved him and they making out now so if you write a name and burn the page before the person dies, theyre spared. but you can only do this once so many dumb rules  what I don't understand is why they changed misa's name to mia but didn't changed light's misa is a way more normal name than light why change it?? okay now movie L is sitting like in the anime lights dad is beating L down L is threatening light and light is acting as innocent as possible ryuk is meddling in lights plans lemme tell you those plans light write the name of L' assistant, having him find L's name and then tell light but ryuk is there to screw things up oh shit ryuk took the page with L's assisatants name on it so mia betrayed light light wanted to save watari watari is L's assitant but mia and ryuk messed that up ooooh shiiiiit mia did kill all those agents she killed 13 people not ryuk oooh L is angry that watari is dead and mia is trying to kill light hope he kills her instead L is gonna hunt light down L is driving angrily through the streets just rmapgaing dude rampaging now L is chasing light on foot 20 mins left no chip scene (note: really sad there wasn’t any chip scene) L is confrtoning light but light is saved by one of his many admirerers mia is trying to take the book and theyre fighting at the top of a ferris wheel light put mias name in the book she dead the ferris wheel deatached so now its slowly falling ryuk is manipulating the ferris wheel mia is hanging out of the pod thing light dropped her light fell mia died in an explosion of flowers light landed in water the book did too now L' there the page containg lights name is burning and L saw the page buring some old guy just picked up the washed up death note this new guy is carrying on kira's duty while light is in a coma now he's returning the book back to light oh light woke up L knows that mia was involvev involved lights dad knows he knows now light is gonna tell his dad how it works okay wait some exposition is going down and you need to know what is up so mia wrote that light's heart would stop at midnight so to fix that light chose a rapist who had connections to a hospital to save light when he fell in the water, give him cpr and keep light in a medically induced coma hospital guy commits suicide then light writes a pedophile mailman gets the note book on the shore, writes criminals names to keep up the act while light is in a coma, gives the death note back and commits suicide then he writes when mia takes the note book from light, she falls, tears the page with lights name on it that then the page is burned, light lands safely in water and mia dies instantly when she hits the ground L found the page with watari's name and all the agent's names L angry at light hes laughing crazily L looked like he was gonna write light's name but then the credits are going ooh that was interesting they showed behind the scenes stuff while playing the credits but it was done in a way I hadn't seen before they were like flashing it on screen inbetween credits, only a few seconds at a time got to see how they did ryuk which was cool god damnit they never showed if L wrote light's name or not I'm guessing not I waited through 5 mins of creits for thi why so light didn't kill any innocent people huh but mia sure did so my rating is 0/10 this wasn't death note this was like like some knock off version called'killing book' hope your happy that L is alive tho didn't have to kill himself like anime L did unless that was what the end implied hang on imma see if movie L killed himself too well Wikipedia doesn't say anything but we all know how reliable Wikipedia is that was a real joy ride hope you enjoyed my ramblings even thought half of them prob don't make sense

Not that anybody asked, but

The problem with Lights casting to me is not that he doesn’t look like manga Light, its that he fundementally lacks the qualities of lights physical appearance that in my opinion, were very integral to his character. I think it’s fair to object this critisism with the argument that its too early to say for sure, but so far this portrayal of light seems to be one that wants to comunicate his social disconnection and insanity with his appearance, but that is taking away an important aspect of Lights character. Light is a conventionally attractive, model student, respected by his peers. This is not only important to the way that he interacts with other characters, especially in the way that it makes him less likely to be criminal in any way, but he is also supposed to be a deliberate juxtaposition of his adversary, a completely unconventional sort of person. Light stands up straight and looks clean and well dressed, while L is constantly slumping over, with bags under his eyes, and presents himself in an assemble of unkempt hair and baggy clothes. Light fancies himself a god and that pride is evident in his self care, while L is focused on his work and unconcerned with glory. The fact that Light is so cleancut and sociable serves to muddy the audiences opinion of his actions beyond the fact that they’re already set to empathise with him. Light being an homor student and a man of prestige gives him more to lose, and makes his insanity even more jarring.

Also, if you’re going to set it in America, and turn Lights pretty Japanese name into a corny ass white name, Then Why the FUCK, do people still call the killer Kira??????? I mean maybe it will be explained, but it was kind of frusterating to see how little they commited. Calling him Kira was inherent to the fact that his home base was in Japan, and the Japanese in particular connected with him.

Sorry this was a little rambly, just haven’t seen anybody talking about this in these terms and wanted to throw my hat in the ring! Im probably going to check out the film if it’s going to be on Netflix because Death note is an all time favorite of mine, and who knows, maybe its aight. I’m curious to know what anyone else thinks. Love you guys! XOXOXOXO (Btw, I do acknowledge the white washing issue in this adaptation, but I don’t feel equipt to really discuss it beyond what I mentioned above, and I don’t want to say something uninformed, or disrespectful)

‘use [All thee console commands]’ OH YOU FUCKERS ‘dangan ronpa on pc’ then port it properly you fucking hacks. rb? the fucks rb! whats a! what are the controls!!!!

ok has anyone else played the demo aon pc and does it play like shit for everyone else? fucking f1 is the menu??? f1/???? are you taking the fucking piss! what the fuck! did i have to open the config menu? youre taking the piss. and when i use the arrows to scroll the menus (becausethere isnt a fucking cursor lol) it seems HYPER sensitive to input and regularly skips an option. like it take my input twice.

when you walk it automatically pushes the camera back up to the center of the screen and its actually vaguely nauseating to have to deal with. like, i wanna look at the floor. let me look at the floor. stop forcing me to center the camera/

uh. gontas.... neat.............. ill be honest im not a giant fan of that sort of talking. its..... vaguely weird. like im being forced to rewatch tarzan. not that tarzans bad, i just, like, yknow....... sugor is an ape, n shit.

did. did hajimes oice change. am i tripping. he sounded way cooler in sdr2. also why is HE here too. are they filling in for uh, the trial characters? sorta like how uh. fucking. oh my god. fortune teller guy was the one who died in the demo to fill in for sayaka. why the fuck do i not remember his name. holy shit. how far the mighty have fallen. HAGAKURE. thats it. hamakami? what was that. i almost knew what was up/

if i have to hear the fucking small boy go ‘neeheeheee’ onemore fucking time im snapping his dick off.

oh ok, so, while walking, the x axis isnt inverted. but while stationary in like, rooms n shit, it is? what the fuck????????? are you taking the piss???? the controls in this game are killing me.

‘degenerate males’ oh dear just what i always wanted. oh gee.

‘what happened’ oh so naegis totally dead, ya? i feel it.

oH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS HAGAKURE DOING HERE

ok like i know naegis voiceclips are limited due to the fact hes a placeholder character to like, tutorial at us, but ‘hey’’hey’ ‘hey’ kill me pleasey. the degenerate male shtick isnt suiting me well. uh, the ‘atua’ thing isnt sitting well with me either but thats just because devouts make me kinda uncomfortable.. uh, the maid is cool, though. i like her. and the short guy is cool too. i like his voice. even though its clearly like a deliberate ‘it doesnt suit’ it totally suits and sounds nice. everyone else is uh. give and take, yknow.

also yea thats not johnny yong bosh im not fool. thats not him. youre pulling a fast one. im not having it. like im positive thats a diffeent voice.

this is going to sound weird but uh... is koichi voiced by the guy who uh, voiced kirito in the sao abridged series????? its certainly that sort of uh, speaking. also, uh, kurt.

hhhhhh im not sure im actually enjoying this much. ‘cagey kaede cant particiapte’ that makes NO sense. in all sense. its dumb. stupid fucking gameplay contrivance.

alright, two things abut the mass panic debate. first, holy fuck, my eyes?????? my eyes. the start, when each of the three panels is doing its separate countroom twirl is genuinely some fucking nauseating stuff. oh my god. second, Boy im glad im in a good mental state today or im pretty sure id have fucking sensory overloaded. love it! love it! im so excited for this game to literally play into everything i find uncomfortable about games.

god im remembering how fucking stupid some of this trial shit is. also, psyche taxi??? and why does a have to be bound to the left mouse while thats also the left stick which is also wasd???? what the fuck are these controls. this is some genuinely uncomfortable cntrolling i have to do

also boy do i want to give makoto a fucking swwirlie. swirlie? flush him down the toilet. like just sorta. stick his head it there. i hate naegi.

‘youll have to lie later. doesnt that get your heart pumping?’ yea but in a like ‘im about to have a heart attack because im a fundamentally honest person and lying makes me physically ill’ kinda way, not an ‘adrendaline excitement’ kinda way. like........ uh...... i hate lying??? like completely. i get it, right, but i cant lie! im awful at lying! its some fucking yucko mental shit.

anway whats the y button. oh, right click. also yea uh i dont want to fucking lie, cheers! cheers! i dont want to! i dont want to!!!!!!!! i dont want to lie!!!! yuck. yuck yuck yuck yuck. im gonna fuckkkkiiing second hand embarrassment out of existence. ‘ill turn this lie into the truth’ sure, honey. also, didnt the fucking tutorial say ‘you wont have to lie’ fuck you, cuuuuuunt.

‘i dont want them to suspect makoto’ this is completely unrelatable beause i want makoto to get fucked. like. fuuuuck. ‘waa my friend’ waaaaaaaaa i cannot relate to this

well..... uh.... that sure was a game, huh. sure as fuck wouldnt play this shit with a mouse and keyboard. so itd be ps4. but.... uh........ not gonna lie, didnt really tickle my fancy that well. like yea it was mostly controls but i also found koichi and uh, the aikido girl absolutely fucking insufferable, and kiyo uncomfortable (but that is also the point). uh. the weird camera was also an annoyance and wouldnt be fixed with a controller. i dislike the uh, the deliberate aiming difficulty they include in trials. i dont like the camera reset when you walk AT ALL. like thats just. euuuuughhh. mass panic doesnt really do it for me. im sure psyche taxi is way better on a controller were A and ls arent tied to the same device. i hate lying with like a bent psychological passion soooo thats not what i want. soooo.... uh.. yea shit.