what should be reality

Brasher is exclusively into violent entertainment. 

chibisensei110787 replied to your post “So I trust Mod-chan has been aware of the current situation going on…”

Damn it people, if you don’t like it, don’t read it. Voltage isn’t going to change their stories because a small bunch of people in another country are snowflaking out over them. This game isn’t real & doesn’t even try to be realistic. Let’s be honest here. Would you date someone like Ieyasu’s character in real life? Probably not because he would be abusive & threatening to kill you…a lot. You can’t look at otome games in terms of reality because they’re not.

Okay, to an extent, I understand where you’re coming from–SLBP is a localization, and on one hand, they’re just translating the stories they’re being given. And you’re right that there is a line between fantasy and reality that needs to be drawn–fiction is allowed to be a space for exploring darker concepts that one otherwise wouldn’t abide to in real life. That’s fine.

But the problem here is that “don’t like, don’t read” cannot apply here when you don’t know what it is you’re reading. There are not any warnings within the game that tell you when to expect dubious consent (or that tell you there’s dubious consent at all), and the biggest problem in this respect is that you have to pay for the epilogue before you know what it is you’re buying. Reading it for free is one thing, but there are people that spent actual money on this only to be greeted with something that’s made them uncomfortable and unhappy. More importantly, SLBP is rated for teens 13+. This means that 1) this game shouldn’t have explicit sexual content, but it does and 2) they can market this game to young girls who might otherwise not know any better–just because we understand the difference, doesn’t mean a younger audience does. Some of them are being exposed to this for the first time. 

And I reiterate, just because we know it’s not real, does not mean we shouldn’t be critical of the media we consume. I didn’t download a game to read about sexual assault, and the biggest problem is that they completely normalize and romanticize it. Rape isn’t okay, and forcing yourself on someone until they agree doesn’t set a good example. Unless this game was marketed for dubious consent (and there are otome in that genre–take Diabolik Lovers, for an extreme example), I don’t see why we should see it in the romance story we’re reading. I understand that there’s really only so much we as western fans can do–again, we’re getting translated content, so unless we get responses from Japanese devs, then not much is going to change. But if anything, there should at least be a mature rating on this game as a possible warning in the future.

Some people draw nice, clean art in their sketchbooks. Some people work best when they’re churning out page after page of crap until one nice drawing emerges. One style may be more photogenic but neither is better than the other. The only thing holding you back is the idea that what you put in a sketchbook SHOULD look a certain way, when in reality sketchbooks exist so you can scribble, mess around with new things, and make art that’s less than your best! If you don’t want to “ruin” a nice sketchbook than just grab a stack of printer paper. Thank u for reading. Do your best kids. Go make some ugly sketchbooks

Promise Me This | E.D.

Requested By: @morgycorgi


It was a Tuesday night, and you were over at Ethan’s apartment, hanging out with him and Grayson. You’d been dating for almost a year now, and couldn’t have felt more confident in your relationship. You loved Ethan, and he loved you, and life was good.

“Earth to Y/N” Grayson practically yelled. “Where’d you go?” He questioned. “We lost you for a second.”

“Oh, nowhere. Just in my thoughts,” you told them, but your smile and blush said differently. you made eye contact with Ethan for a charged second, before snapping back to reality. “Okay guys, what should we do?” It was game night, and you had yet to play a game.

“What about truth or dare?” Ethan suggested with a smirk.

“Um, ok.” You agreed.

“Yes!” Grayson whooped. “I love this game!”


It had been two hours. 3 eggs had been ingested, Grayson wouldn’t find his flip-flop for a week, and you knew more weird things about each other than you ever thought was possible.

“Ok Grayson,” Ethan said. “Your truth is… drumroll please… Who was the first girl you ever kissed in L.A.?” Your heart stuttered. Grayson turned red. It was you. When you had first met the twins, Grayson had liked you. He kissed you after a couple weeks, but you told him you didn’t feel that way, and things had gone on normally until you and Ethan had started dating a month and a half later. You were crossing your fingers that Ethan wouldn’t be mad. Really, you hadn’t cheated on him or anything. It was just a misunderstanding. But Ethan had a tendency to be slightly possessive, and you had a bad feeling about this.

“Um.. well you see” Grayson muttered. After a particularly harsh look from Ethan, he broke. “It was Y/N” He mumbled as quickly and quietly as he could. But Ethan had heard him. He stood up abruptly, his face full of anger.

“I can explain okay!” Grayson cried. “It was way before you too started dating! And she told me she didn’t like me that way and nothing has happened since, I promise!!”

Ethan’s face didn’t change. Instead, he whisked you to your feet, and you had no chance but to follow him down the hall to his bedroom. As soon as you stepped inside, you were pushed back against the door, and Ethan’s lips were on yours. “Don’t. Ever. Kiss. Him. Again.” He growled in between kisses. He moved down to your neck, and began kissing you there. You almost collapsed.

“I know Ethan, I won’t. It was a misunderstanding, and happened over a year ago. I love you, Ethan, only you.” You panted. Ethan stopped kissing you for a minute, to look up at you.

“You’re mine, Y/N. Remember that. Remember that I’ll always love you. Promise me this.”

Inaugural Gowns From Edith Roosevelt to Michelle Obama: A Fashion Analysis

I feel very scared, and very sad about the impending Trump presidency. I don’t know how to respond to it, or what I should be saying. This, and motherhood, are my only realities right now, and it is a very sad situation. Mostly sad for the state of this blog, which is becoming fucking boring and repetitive.

I thought a lot about a post I could write that would respond to tomorrow’s inauguration. In truth, I didn’t want to spend a lot of time on it because when the baby is not awake, I have an hour to myself before I have to go to sleep. I chose a blog post over a shower tonight, and I’m honestly not sure that’s the right decision. 

I was going to do a fashion analysis of Michelle Obama’s best looks, but Jesus, I’d need someone to pay me money to do that kind of image research. I was going to do a fashion analysis of Melania Trump next because there are far fewer pictures of her. Also, I don’t hold anything against her, she’s just a girl from Slovakia looking for a rich husband – which girl from Slovakia couldn’t say the same? I know she’s from Slovenia, what’s the difference. 

When I sat down tonight, and thought, what is the laziest possible option on the eve of an impending national nightmare, I thought, “Oh, I could do a fashion analysis of inaugural gowns.” So here they are, chronologically since Edith Roosevelt, the wife of Teddy. 

Theodore Roosevelt doesn’t look so fat here, but I think he got super fat later.

This was his second wife, she was hot.

Oh maybe it was Taft who was the fattie.

Helen Taft looks like she got attacked by birds in her inaugural gown. Either that or her husband sat on her.

Oh the latter, definitely the latter.

Woodrow Wilson’s inauguration looks like Trump’s current day cabinet picks plus the gigolo they hired to take care of Sonny Perdue at the afterparty.

The one in the military uniform, duh.

Yo, who knew Woodrow Wilson was a cradle robber? His wife Edith was very young when he married her. I can’t find a picture of her until Kennedy’s inauguration.


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“Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. As in, I literally cannot fucking believe this.”

I thought those conversations were being recorded,” Bond muses in Q’s ear, making his eye twitch.

“I don’t fucking believe this,” he reaffirms, because this CCTV feed, frankly, defies not only belief but also statistics and probability, and what should be a very firm line separating reality from cartoonish fiction. Trust James bloody Bond to bring this sort of thing off and then relish in the cliché .

On Q’s screen, Bond has the gall to adjust his cufflinks.

“You actually fucking killed a man by dropping a fucking piano on him,” Q says, loud and clear, because he needs to say those words in order to process the situation and hopefully move on.

Bond preens a little and poses somewhat smugly next to an actual pair of legs sticking out from underneath an actual shattered piano. Q feels an overwhelming need to strangle someone.

It’s not as though I’d planned it,” Bond at last moves off, because someone on the street seems to finally be calling the police. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“It’s like the world rearranges itself to amuse you. I didn’t even think they still delivered pianos in through windows anymore!”

Stroke of luck,” he makes the words sound dirty and Q could just scream.

“I need a drink,” he growls instead, angrily typing in a few commands.

I know an excellent bar,” Bond says, smooth and easy, because of course he does, and the worst thing of all is that it’s not an unwelcome offer, damn the bastard. “Fantastic alcohol, and they’ve got a piano player.”

“Oh, fuck you, Bond.”

Gladly,” Bond’s voice is suddenly dangerous velvet and filthy promises, and an altogether different wave of heat floods Q, because oh… that’s… “I’ll be back in time to pick you up at eight,” and with that Bond disconnects, leaving Q distinctly distracted for the rest of the day.

For the lovely Music Challenge from @mi6-cafe.

The Goal of Feminism is Not Equality. The Goal of Feminism is Liberation from Patriarchy and the Gender Hierarchy.

Liberal feminism is about equality, they’re over there on the left. Sometimes, they talk about things in the middle, but they still list their goal as “equality” because they don’t really understand what it is that they’re after.

Radical feminism is about removing the boundaries, dismantling the whole problem from the root of the matter.

Equality is a Farce

Ejaculation is not equal to pregnancy. Making abortion illegal for both men and women is technically equal.

Men commit 90% of violence, does that mean women need to up our game on violence or should we instead be trying to free ourselves from male violence?

Men have corporate power, does that mean we should make sure that women can have the same economic power or does that mean we should dismantle capitalism?

Think critically, think about what “equality” means in reality. It doesn’t work.

Liberation is the Answer

The point is that we want to be free, we want to get rid of these oppressive systems completely. That means acting radically–from Latin, “to the root”–and destroying the whole system completely so we can replace it with something better: Matriarchy.

I give you the jumper of the boy that only has eyes for me, the one that had been draped around my shoulders whilst I was watching you. You try to refuse because my skin is burning in the night air too, I don’t let you. Just don’t you shiver, I don’t feel the cold if I can see you shaking. I think I’m turning you into something else, my mind is broken, I may be able to change your heart but I will never be able to change your mind. Your tender touches are only drunken mistakes that you wont remember in the morning and I cannot keep them like treasures anymore.

bits and pieces of what could be anything


anonymous asked:

I have a mental illness, it's not a major one alhamdulillah, but sometimes it's really hard for me to focus with reality and faith. what should i do? i'm scared I'll die like this

as-Salaam Alaykum!

Please go to a mental health professional and get help if you are in that stage. Thats what Islam says.

“Make use of medical treatment, for Allah has not made a disease without appointing a remedy for it, with the exception of one disease, namely old age.” (Abu Dawud)

Also make sure you pray 5 times a day regularly and stay away from major sins.

May Aah grant you shifa. Ameen

After we said our goodbyes and I drove away, tears rolled down my face and I bit the inside of my lip in an attempt to keep from audibly sobbing. I stared blankly out the window with tears rolling down my face, watching the sun dip behind the mountains and turn the sky a soft shade of pink, much like the color of my cheeks when you kiss me… And all I could think was that I should have kissed you longer.
—  Back To Reality; What Comes After Goodbye
Sleepless  [ Oda Nobunaga ]

A/N: My attempts at a naughty fic because I wanted one for Nobu and myself. I’m going to sin outwardly just this once for personal reasons. LOL.  I might or might not continue but hmmm @lucysaionji, @laurifakristalina thanks for the nudge hueueheue.

Sometimes, nights can be so unkind that it even robs me of sleep. The wakefulness leaves me restless, allowing a myriad of thoughts pervasively running through my mind. It is a constant reminder of my ambition – of uniting Japan for the sake of peace – how things should go, what I need to do see my Divine Rule a reality, what I have done so far, and how I feel about it. I have my little share of regrets, but they are regrets nonetheless, and it is something that puts me to the brink of indecision. I am Oda Nobunaga, and the last thing I want is for my men to see the future ruler of Japan be so weak.

But I am. I am weak, in a sense. I’ll admit to myself, but never to anyone else.

So powerless, that I can’t help but seek comfort, my feet leading me to her chambers in the dead of the night. Even I have thought she must have drifted off to dreamland long ago, but the need to see her made my chest ache.

Surprisingly, there was a dim flicker of lights from her chambers, making me believe she was still awake.

“Shinobu? It’s me.”

“Lord Nobuna—“

My urgent need compelled me to slide her shoji open before she could answer me, cutting off her voice, letting the rest of my name drop into silence.

For a moment, the flames from the lantern gleamed softly, casting her shadow against the wall as if she were dancing. But she wasn’t. She was as still as a porcelain doll, her eyes wide as she looked at me. Surprise, embarrassment, and confusion. Perhaps, a blend of all three. I, on the other hand, remained by the doorway, my foot in her room, and the other still quite outside the threshold.

“Well, well…” I smirked, feeling my own gaze sharpen at the unexpected.

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Guys just admit that you hate the game because it didn’t end the way you wanted. Your ideal ending is “ I HOPE ??? SURVIVES I LOVE THEM THEY’RE MY FAVE!!! ” ending. Just because your faves didn’t survive doesn’t mean that this game sucks. Or the personalities of the characters being fake doesn’t make this game bad. You are just judging the game by the characters. “Ouma is actually a good person? OMG IT SUCKS WORST GAME EVER! ” , “ ANGIE DIES BECAUSE OF ??? EWW WORST CASE EVER THIS GAME SUCKS! ” , “ IT’S ONLY A REALITY SHOW? KODAKA SHOULD STOP MAKING DR ” So what if it is a reality show!!?? HE JUST TRIED TO MAKE SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT AND TOOK A HUGE RISK AND BECAUSE HE TRIED SOMETHING DIFFERENT WON’T MAKE THIS GAME BAD! NOT EVERY GAME HAS TO MAKE EVERY SINGLE DEATH MEANINGFUL! NOT EVERY PLOT HAS TO MAKE YOUR MEANINGLESS “ OMG I HOPE HE SURVIVEEEESSS ” DREAMS COME TRUE! He tried to start a knew plot. Aren’t you already sick of “ DESPAIR YES KILLING GAME YES ” plot? The tv show plot is amazing and he wants to create a new Danganronpa as the title implies *NEW* DANGANRONPA V3! And you just can’t see it! GIVE THE GAME A CHANCE! Of course there are mistakes but it doesn’t mean it is bad! STOP FANGASMING AND LEARN TO DIFFER YOUR DREAM SURVIVORS FROM THE QUALITY OF THE PLOT!!!

A Puppy, A Boyfriend and An Awkward Mistake

i suck at titles wowee

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 977 (oneshot)

Warnings: pretty sure its clean :) pizza overdose is implied

Summary: Dan and Phil have a puppy, Dan watches Phil’s live shows and Phil says something he probably shouldn’t have.

A/N: okay so this is the first fic i’ve posted, like ever✹∘✹ (feedback is v much appreciated thank u)  hope it’s okaayy B)

Spoilers: “Phil- did- did you actually just call yourself a sugar daddy live on the internet in front of 12,000 people.”

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Brandon inched out of the front door of the large house he and the other lights had been put in.  He’d been told he had a curfew, but other than that, had been given no rules at all.  Most of the other lights in the house had already gone out to explore, but Brandon had been to hesitant.  Even now, as he peered around the front of the building, he felt like he was doing something illicit, and any second he would be shouted at by a guard.  He chewed on his lower lip as he tried to decide what he should do.  The reality that he wasn’t at Dorchadas anymore slowly started to sink in, but part of him couldn’t believe it.  This had to be a dream, right?  Or maybe he was dead, and heaven was a boarding house.  That seemed a little lame, in his opinion.