i am the noise

While I am glad that the controversy around Lootboxes and monetization of games was FINALLY brought to the attention of the mainstream audience, I think the fact that most people still think of video games as “childish hobbies” are the reason why gaming companies thought they could get away with these predatory business practices in the first place. 

Think about it, the majority of mainstream audiences didn’t care what went on in their kid’s video games. And they really didn’t care about adults who played games either because they saw gamers as ‘losers’ whose opinions really didn’t matter in ‘the real world’ and dismissed their concerns outright. And because mainstream audiences considered video games as 'a childish hobby’ EA and other gaming companies used it as cover to get away with exploiting gamers. 

So thank Star Wars, your overwhelming popularity finally showed mainstream audiences the bullshit that goes on in Video games. 

anybody else feel like an absurd amount of foreboding for 2018 like 2016 sucked my soul out 2017 put my corpse into a really fast car i couldn’t control and i feel like 2018 is The Arrival At The Gates Of Satan

10

Hayden Christensen on his lightsaber training

Partner and I have been rewatching The Two Towers for the first time in a long time.

anyway, one thing that has always been weird for me is Eomer giving Hasufel and Arod to random strangers, just like that.  Just giving them away, two horses, to a trio of foreign travelers he just met and had suspected of being spies.

like.  what?  This is Rohan.  Horses are the thing you value above all else, I don’t care if their riders are dead, even if their riders don’t have actual heirs somewhere to whom ownership would pass (or Rohirric inheritance law works differently and ownership has somehow defaulted to their éored’s commander, IDK), you’re still a calvary force planning to see a lot more battle in the near future, chances are high you’re going to end up with horseless riders who’ll need them.

this time I actually processed the fact, though, that Eomer believes they’ve inadvertantly killed two innocents, prisoners of the orcs, the beloved companions of these travelers.

The horses aren’t a gift.  They’re weregild.

pros of emotionally complex villains: generally more interesting to read/watch about than “blah im evil and thats all there is to it” villains, they feel less out of place especially if the hero(s) are also emotionally complex, can also benefit to explain their motives

cons of emotionally complex villains: the fandom almost always characterizes them as a sad misunderstood uwu baby whos just trying their best 

(ominous slapping noises in the dead of night)

lance: (breathing heavily) the heck was that?

hunk: shhh, i think i heard it coming from the hallway over

(distantly)

pidge: (under her breath) ayyyyyy i’m walkin here

2

PSA: if your grown ass man is too scared to accidentally brush up against a wrapped tampon, it’s time to find a new man. Your period is natural and shouldn’t freak him out. #RemoveTheStigma #PrettyLittlePSA

We're Already Married

So, I am supposed to be working on a chapter of a story and an angsty oneshot. But this fluffy drabble had to be written. It just had to.
——–


               “Draco, we need to talk.” Lucius told his son firmly as he and Narcissa walked into the room.

                “Mhm. Go ahead.” Came the little three-year-old’s distracted voice.

                Lucius rolled his eyes before stepping behind his son and peering down. “What in heaven’s name is that?”

                That had Narcissa circling the table and looking at her son’s face. His tongue was peeking out of his lips, eyes were narrowed in concentration while brows were furrowed and he seemed to be drawing something on a spare piece of parchment. She blinked uncertainly at the pure disaster of scribbles that were everywhere. If it wasn’t supposed to be a ball of rubbish, she honestly had no idea what her son was attempting to draw.

                “It’s Dobby. Can’t you tell?” Draco looked up with a wobbly lip and sad eyes as he pointed across the room to the house elf. As if the thought of it not looking like Dobby was a disaster.

                Lucius looked over for the first time and noted that the elf was in an odd pose with an apple balancing on his forehead.

                At his arched brows, Dobby hurried to explain. “Master Draco asked Dobby to be his muse.”

                “Is that so?” Lucius drawled with a heavy sigh. “Draco, you can’t order Dobby to play with you.”

                “Why not?”  

                Patience was not Lucius’ strong suit. He looked to the ceiling briefly before shaking his head. “We will have this conversation at a later date. There are more important things to discuss.”

                Draco hummed a little before looking up with wide eyes. “Am I in twouble? If so, Dobby did it.”

                A soft surprised noise emitted from the elf and Narcissa couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “No, you aren’t in trouble and don’t blame Dobby for things he didn’t do.”

                “Sowwy.” Draco apologized as he looked down at his hands.

                “Sorry.” Lucius corrected. For some reason, pronouncing R’s were hard for his son.

                Draco’s brows were pinched in confusion. “That’s what I said.”

                “No, you said—” Lucius paused as he decided to let it go. “Nevermind. What I have been trying to tell you is that we have come to discuss a pureblood tradition with you.”

                That had Draco’s expression souring. “No thanks.”

                Narcissa covered her mouth as she tried muffling her laughter. Salazar, she loved her son.

                “Draco.” The hard tone of his voice had his son straightening up and giving him a serious look. Finally.

                “When you come of age, you will be drawn into a marriage contract. This is something that most purebloods do and it is a standing tradition of the Malfoy family.” Lucius shot is wife a look when she crossed her arms. He knew that she didn’t agree and wanted Draco to find his own spouse but that wasn’t the plan.

                “I’m alweady mawried.” Draco interrupted excitedly!

                Lucius blinked rapidly. “You want to run that by me again?”

                “Hawwy asked me to mawwy him today! I said I would if he let me have his pudding. He did!”

                “And who pray tell is Hawwy?” Lucius shuddered at the pronunciation.

                “Hawwy is my best fwriend. He has pwetty eyes and he said I do too! We are mawried.”

                Narcissa smirked at her husband. “You hear that? He’s already married. Looks like that marriage contract is moot.”

                “Narcissa, you can’t possibly—”

                She stood up rapidly, holding out her hand for her son to take. “I can and I will. You want to explain to your son why he can’t marry his best friend? Because if so, you can deal with the aftermath.”

                Draco looked between them rapidly. “But…” His eyes filled with tears. “We alweady mawried.” The sniffle he released had Lucius closing his eyes. “Tomorrow’s the anni- anniver-” He scrunched up his nose as he looked to Narcissa for help.

                “Anniversary?” She offered picking him up and holding him close.

                Draco nodded rapidly as he wiped his eyes. “Yes. I want to give him a gift.”

                Narcissa smiled softly. “How about we go see if we can have one of the house elves cook him something. What kind of desserts does he like?”

                “Tweacle tawrt.”

                Lucius watched his wife and son walk out of the room with a shake of his head. He looked over and noticed that Dobby was still in the same awful pose. “Cease that at once.”

                When the elf let out a noise of relief, Lucius rolled his eyes. “What are the chances that I’ll get my way in the end?”

                He knew that Dobby couldn’t lie to him, so he was interested in hearing the response.

                The *pop* of the elf’s departure was heard and it had Lucius putting his face in his hands. “That’s what I was afraid of.”


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