#2343

[kirby-the-gorb]

[reyzorblade-png]

rewatching ep. 15 & 16 of team torque right now ..... yapper to yapper connection is so dear to me

(click on the image for better quality)

[sdeluu]

'hiç yazmayacağım birkaç cümle yazacağım. sonra hepsini kusacağım. kusmak zorundayım. çünkü bu arzu çok fazla. âh. bağırmak istiyorum. insan sevgisizliği kendine hak görürmü. her ân, her ânı öldürür mü. sahi, biri bana anlatsın. bir anne evladını sararken dahi, hissettiremediği sevgi yüzünden suçlu olabilir mi. peki ya bir baba. geç kalmış gururlu hâllerini sergilese, affedilmeye layık değil midir. biri söylesin bana. sevgi içinde büyümesine rağmen nasıl olurda bu denli sevgisiz kalınır. biri bana anlatsın. sevgi dilenecek ama hiçbir sevgiyi kabul etmeyecek hâle gelmenin sorumlusu kimde, neydedir. biri bana söylesin. yazmayacağım cümlelerin baş ağrısına maruz kalıyorum gene. biri bana söylesin. açıklasın. aklımı kaçırmış gibiyim. beynimin içinde dolaşan tilkileri boğuyorum. ölmemeye yemin etmişcesine sallıyorlar kuyruklarını. anlıyor musunuz. biri beni anlıyor mu. artık dayanamıyorum. kustuğum siyahımı, griye çalamıyorum. nereye gidilir. kime dökülür bu denli boşluk. bulamıyorum. dokun bana. bana dokun istiyorum. nefret ediyorum temaslardan. tiksiniyorum. buna rağmen, dokun istiyorum. bu laneti benden al istiyorum. anlayabiliyor musun. karamsar değilim ben. karanlık içim. zifiri odalara kitlenmiş kız çocuğumu kurtarmaya çalışıyorum sadece. anlıyor musun. âh. başım. dönüyor sanki. kalbim yorgun. sar onu istiyorum. hiç anlatmayacağım şeyler anlatmalıyım. kurtulmalıyım. içimde nefesimi kesen yumrudan. ağlamalıyım. yaşlarımı akıtmalıyım. neden. neden akmıyorlar artık anlamıyorum. nefes aldırtmıyor bana. ölümü arzulamak değil bu artık. içimde sakındığım o kız çocuğu dahi artık istemiyor yaşamı. toprak kokmayı hayal ediyor. anlayamaz mısın beni. sarmalısın bedenimi. başımı okşayıp kandırmalısın beni. kandır beni. elin, değmeli. anlamıyorsun. anlatamıyorum. gözyaşlarımı kusmak istiyorum. yaşamak için. yaşayabilmek için. ihtiyacım var. anlıyor musun. bulmalısın beni. buldurmalısın kendini. sallanan kuyrukları kesmelisin. en azından, denemez misin. bir kere. sadece bir kere. sonrası yok. yemin ederim yok. toprak kokmalıyım. bulutlarım benim üzerime yağmalı. ay ışığını toprağıma sermeli. sadece bir kere. yemin ederim. âh. anlamıyorsun değil mi. peki. sende anlama beni.

[cleoenfaserum]

DIAS SALVAJES (1990)PELICULA CHINA DOBLADA y VOSE

IN ENGLISH: DAYS OF BEING WILD SUBTITLE

Días salvajes (chino: 阿飞正传 pinyin: Āfēi Zhèngzhuàn) es una película dramática de Hong Kong de 1990 dirigida por Wong Kar-wai. La película está protagonizada por algunos de los actores y actrices más conocidos de Hong Kong, entre ellos Leslie Cheung, Andy Lau, Maggie Cheung, Carina Lau, Jacky Cheung y Tony Leung. Días salvajes también marca la primera colaboración entre Wong y el director de fotografía Christopher Doyle, con quien desde entonces ha realizado seis películas más.​

LINK https://youtu.be/Y_ldEX6iXxQ

La película forma la primera parte de una trilogía informal, junto con Fa yeung nin wa (estrenada en 2000), 2046 (estrenada en 2004) y Blossoms (2020). Días salvajes - Wikipedia IMDb 7'4​

VEASE LA PELICULA A CONTINUACION DOBLADA

Dias salvajes (1990.Days of Being Wild)

Dias salvajes (1990.Days of Being Wild)

LINK https://ok.ru/video/6933287930501

VOSE

Days.Of.Being.Wild.1990.Subt.

Hong Kong, años 60. Yuddy, un joven atractivo y seductor, descubre que la ex-prostituta alcohólica que le ha criado no es su verdadera madre

LINK https://ok.ru/video/3197297101437

Después de ver Días Salvajes (Days of Being Wild), quiero compartir con ustedes mi impresión…

Días Salvajes (Days of Being Wild) de Wong Kar‑wai se mueve menos como una historia y más como un recuerdo que flota — húmedo, inquieto y lleno de personas que nunca llegan a tocar el suelo. Lo que más se me quedó grabado fueron dos detalles pequeños que, en silencio, abren la puerta a todo el sentido de la película: el pájaro sin patas y el minuto de amistad con el que Yuddy seduce a Su Lizhen. Juntos forman el plano emocional de un hombre que pasa la vida huyendo del momento en que tendría que aterrizar.

Yuddy le cuenta a Mimi la historia de un pájaro raro que no tiene patas y pasa toda su vida volando. Solo aterriza una vez — y cuando lo hace, muere. Es una metáfora hermosa y trágica, pero también es un autorretrato. Yuddy es un hombre que teme el apego, teme ser visto, teme el instante en que tendría que dejar de flotar y enfrentarse al vacío que lleva dentro. Toda su vida es un intento de mantenerse en el aire. Cada mujer que conoce es una rama en la que se niega a posarse.

Por eso el momento del “amigo de un minuto” es tan revelador. En la superficie, es un truco encantador — una forma juguetona de captar la atención de Su Lizhen. Pero por debajo es una confesión. Yuddy puede ofrecer un minuto de intimidad, un minuto de conexión, un minuto de posibilidad. Lo que no puede ofrecer es la hora siguiente, ni el día siguiente, ni la vida siguiente. La conquista ya contiene el límite de su amor. La seducción es también la advertencia.

Su búsqueda de la madre biológica es la única vez que intenta aterrizar. Y ahí la película se abre hacia algo más grande que él. Su deseo de encontrar a una madre que nunca conoció refleja la búsqueda de Hong Kong por un sentido estable de origen — una ciudad suspendida entre el dominio colonial y la herencia china, sin saber del todo a qué pertenece. La madre de Yuddy es la “raíz” inalcanzable, la patria imaginada que se niega a abrazarlo. Cuando ella lo rechaza, no es solo una herida personal; es un eco del desarraigo cultural de una generación criada en un lugar que es y no es China, que es y no es hogar. La crisis de identidad de Yuddy se convierte en metáfora de la de Hong Kong.

Por eso la secuencia del tren se siente como su verdadero final. Que Yuddy muera físicamente o no es casi irrelevante. Lo importante es que desaparece — no llama a Su Lizhen a las 3, no vuelve con quienes lo quisieron, no deja de huir. En el mundo de Wong Kar‑wai, desaparecer es una forma de morir. Yuddy muere en el momento en que comprende que no tiene dónde ir, ni madre patria que lo reclame, ni identidad a la que regresar.

Y entonces llega la imagen final, enigmática: un joven elegante en una habitación estrecha, peinándose, contando dinero, preparándose para salir a la noche. Aparece menos de un minuto, pero reconfigura toda la película. No es Yuddy renacido, ni un simple adelanto de una secuela. Es la siguiente iteración de la misma especie emocional — otro errante, otro hombre que encantará, desaparecerá y dejará tras de sí un rastro de añoranza. El ciclo continúa. La ciudad sigue produciendo pájaros sin patas.

Al final, Días Salvajes (Days of Being Wild) no trata de la vida o la muerte de Yuddy, sino de la condición que él encarna: la soledad de quienes no pueden aterrizar y la tristeza silenciosa de quienes los esperan. Wong Kar‑wai nos deja con la sensación de que Yuddy fue solo un capítulo de una historia más amplia — la historia de almas bellas y sin raíces que atraviesan la vida de otros como minutos breves e inolvidables, y de una ciudad que aún busca a la madre que nunca llegó a conocer.

ENGLISH SECTION

Days of Being Wild is a 1990 Hong Kong drama film written and directed by Wong Kar-Wai. Starring some of the best-known actors and actresses in Hong Kong, including Leslie Cheung, Andy Lau, Maggie Cheung, Carina Lau, Jacky Cheung and Tony Leung, the film marks the first collaboration between Wong and cinematographer Christopher Doyle, with whom he has since made six more films.

It forms the first part of an informal trilogy, together with In the Mood for Love (2000) and 2046 (2004).

WATCH FILM BELOW SUBTITLED

Days Of Being Wild (1990) (1080p)

A man tries to find out who his real mother is after the woman who raised him tells him the truth.

LINK https://ok.ru/video/9765428136475

LINK https://youtu.be/4qgqu0QJsG8

After watching Days of Being Wild, I want to express to you all my takeaway…

Wong Kar‑wai’s Days of Being Wild moves less like a story and more like a drifting memory — humid, restless, and full of people who never quite touch the ground. What stayed with me most were two small details that quietly unlock the entire film: the bird with no legs, and the one‑minute friendship Yuddy uses to seduce Su Lizhen. Together, they form the emotional blueprint of a man who spends his life running from the moment he might have to land.

Yuddy tells Mimi about a rare bird that has no legs and spends its whole life flying. It only lands once — and when it does, it dies. It’s a beautiful, tragic metaphor, but it’s also Yuddy’s self‑portrait. He is a man terrified of attachment, terrified of being seen, terrified of the moment when he might have to stop drifting and face the emptiness inside him. His entire life is an attempt to stay airborne. Every woman he meets becomes a temporary perch he refuses to rest on.

That’s why the “one‑minute friend” moment is so revealing. On the surface, it’s a charming trick — a playful way to win Su Lizhen’s attention. But underneath, it’s a confession. Yuddy can give someone a minute of intimacy, a minute of connection, a minute of possibility. What he cannot give is the hour after, or the day after, or the life after. He conquers her with a gesture that already contains the limit of his love. The seduction is also the warning.

His search for his biological mother is the only time he tries to land. And here the film opens into something larger than Yuddy himself. His longing for a mother he has never met mirrors Hong Kong’s own longing for a stable sense of origin — a city suspended between colonial rule and Chinese heritage, unsure of where it truly belongs. Yuddy’s mother is the unreachable “root,” the imagined homeland that refuses to embrace him. When she rejects him, it is not just a personal wound; it echoes the cultural dislocation of a generation raised in a place that feels both Chinese and not Chinese, both home and not home. Yuddy’s identity crisis becomes a metaphor for Hong Kong’s own.

This is why the train sequence feels like his true ending. Whether Yuddy physically dies from his wounds is almost beside the point. What matters is that he disappears — he never calls Su Lizhen at 3 PM, he never returns to anyone who cared for him, he never stops running. In Wong Kar‑wai’s world, disappearance is a kind of death. Yuddy dies the moment he realizes he has nowhere left to go, no motherland to claim him, no identity to fall back into.

And then comes the final, enigmatic image: the slick young man in a cramped room, combing his hair, counting money, preparing to step into the night. He appears for less than a minute, yet he reframes the entire film. He is not Yuddy reborn, nor a conventional sequel teaser. He is the next iteration of the same emotional species — another drifter, another man who will charm, vanish, and leave a trail of longing behind him. The cycle continues. The city keeps producing birds with no legs.

In the end, Days of Being Wild is not about Yuddy’s life or death, but about the condition he represents: the loneliness of people who cannot land, and the quiet heartbreak of those who wait for them. Wong Kar‑wai leaves us with the sense that Yuddy was only one chapter in a much larger story — a story of beautiful, rootless souls who pass through other people’s lives like brief, unforgettable minutes, and a city still searching for the mother it never truly knew.

Post by @tyger-land · 10 images

💬 2  🔁 40  ❤️ 115 · 𝘿𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝘽𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙙 1990

[mothlau]

franco/alex 7

DISCLAIMER!!!!!! this is NOT an educational portrayal of hypnokink, do NOT take anything from this, the vibes here are lowkey foul and toxic and NOT what hypno is about!!!!! but anyway the vibes are rancid with this one but :3 it's fun :3 (kink meme here)

2362 words

Singapore is hot; every year it's getting worse and Alex finds it harder to go through with it. This year… This year it started out fine, great even! Until Franco decided to dive-bomb him out of nowhere.

Alex saw red, as soon as he realized what Franco was trying to do. That was until he saw the replays, watched his and Franco’s on-boards both. Alex knows that it was just hard racing, a bit desperate, drowned in a desire to prove himself, but that doesn’t make it easier to swallow. The man is still upset; they were working so well together, the taste of betrayal that much more sour in his mouth.

“Franco!” He calls out to the younger man, eyes like a hawk as the boy turns and smiles at him, as soon as he finds Alex in the crowd. He’s still in his suit, sweat clinging to his hair line. Had Alex been kinder, he may have allowed him to go change, shower and refresh after the race. But he just… he can’t. He needs to deal with this now.

His eyes are barely visible from how wide his grin is. Big and genuine, enough to almost make Alex feel bad. Except, he's on a mission and he's not about to feel bad when Franco was the one to ruin his race.

“Alex!” Franco greets him back, going in for the hug as soon as Alex is close enough. “We good, right? No hard feelings?”

Alex smiles, it’s hard not to when Franco is looking up at him, all wide eyes and flushed face. “Of course, mate. It’s just racing! I would’ve done the same!”

That seems to ease the younger, body visibly deflating in Alex’s arms. His forehead comes to rest on Alex’s shoulder, the pressure brief before he’s quickly pulling back and stepping away from him.

“I’m so glad,” he says, voice slightly hushed. “I really thought you would hate me when I was stepping out of the car.”

“No, Franco, I–” Alex sighs, closing his eyes to stop himself from rolling them. “I couldn’t hate you over that. Like I said, it was hard racing.”

Eyes still closed, he can’t see the smile that spreads across Franco’s face, but he can hear it in his voice. “I’m happy then. I will go change, then we can meet and talk. If you want!”

“Actually, Franco!” Alex rushes to stop the young man just before he can turn around and leave towards his driver room. It’s now or never. “You remember how we played last time?” Franco’s face turns red just at the mention. “We should do it again, yes? Tonight. To… strengthen our bond, yes?”

Franco is quick to agree, of course he is. He’s nodding so fast that for a moment Alex worries he will hurt himself. It pulls at his heart, but still Alex will not give in.

“Yes! I will come to your room! But first, a shower!”

The older watches him go, and then, after he gathers himself again, Alex turns to leave as well. He has things to get ready, after all, they’re in for a long night.

–

Alex has no reason to feel nervous, yet here he is: hands sweaty, foot bouncing up and down as he tries to relax on the hotel bed. It’s not working, it hasn’t worked for the past half hour, but still he tries.

He’s made the bed fluffy, just how Franco likes it; made sure to ask for more pillows and an extra blanket. He’s set the temperature higher, still for Franco to feel more comfortable, but Alex is starting to get nervous. He blames it on having cooled down, on not being as angry as he was after he DNF-ed. Perhaps he should’ve just taken Franco to his room right then, to make the boy regret his actions before the guilt could take root.

There’s a knock on his door, shy and slightly unsure.

It’s too late now.

Alex stands up, goes to open the door, lets Franco in without saying anything. The boy looks so young in his oversized hoodie, hood pulled to cover his hair, face mask covering his mouth and nose. When he pulls them off, Alex can’t help the way his breath catches in his throat.

He’s about to ruin him.

“Come, sit on the bed,” he urges Franco, making sure the door is locked before he can pay attention to the young man. Franco is already perched on top of it, hoodie discarded on the floor, now only in his shirt and shorts. He looks so fucking cozy in his little pillow nest, eyes huge and wet as he looks at Alex.

God, he trusts Alex, trusts him to take care of him and make sure nothing bad will happen to him and now Alex is about to–

No, Franco should’ve known better.

“Did you eat?”

Franco nods, not bothering to hide his exasperated eye roll. “Yes, mom, now can we start? I want to… You know…”

Alex smiles down at the boy, predatory and mean. Right, he’s so innocent when he’s in Alex’s bed, nothing like how cocky Franco tries to be in front of the media. He’s all red pouty and Alex wants to see him cry.

“How can I give you what you want when you can’t even tell me what it is you need, Franco? You know I can’t read your mind.”

“Yes, but you can…” Franco swallows hard, smoothing the blanket under him. “You can make me… go under… please…”

It’s not the sort of begging Alex usually likes, but he knows he can’t expect anything better when Franco is still wound tight.

“Relax, baby. Close your eyes for me,” Alex murmurs, taking a seat on the bed, next to Franco’s legs. There’s goosebumps running up his skin and he hasn’t even touched him yet. Alex smiles at the sight. It’s going to be so easy to get him under. “First, you are currently laying on my bed, aren’t you?”

The younger nods, not showing any signs of wanting to verbally answer Alex’s truth. That won’t do, he taught him better than that. Alex sits and waits, until Franco realises his mistake and whimpers out a barely audible, yeah.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. You are in my bed,” Alex agrees, just to make it that more obvious, to make sure that Franco won’t forget where he is. “You are in my bed and you can feel how soft the blanket is under you. You can feel it on your skin, your arms and legs.” His fingers move along Franco’s legs, watching mesmerised as even more bumps form. He’s so sensitive, even to the smallest of touches.

It drives Alex crazy.

Franco whines, brows furrowed. “It’s soft…”

“Yes, it’s soft. I asked them to bring it just for you, baby.” Franco’s lip is pulled between his teeth, tugging at it to stop himself from reaching out. “What do you say? Since I did this for you?”

“Thank you, Alex,” he moans, lip red and bruised from a few seconds of attention. Alex can’t wait to pull it between his teeth until Franco is bleeding. He can already taste it on his tongue.

“Good. You are in my bed, you can feel the softness around you and your breathing is getting laboured every time I move my hand up your leg.” Alex slides his fingers until they reach the hem of the younger’s shorts. “Right?”

Franco doesn’t answer him, but he makes a little noise, a punched out breath, that Alex decides to take as an answer. Just this once. His eyes are focused to where Franco’s chest is rising and falling with each quickened inhale.

Soon.

“Now, you are starting to go into a trance.”

This time, Franco doesn’t answer him at all. It’s just his breathing, evened out, that lets Alex know his suggestion was understood.

He starts over, having taken a calming breath himself. Alex needs it just as much.

“My voice is beginning to sound more muffled.” A whine. “My hands are pulling your shorts and boxers down.” A little mewl. “Your little pussy is starting to get wet.” A moan that makes Alex’s cock twitch in his pants.

Franco still looks deep in, even as he’s squeezing his thighs together. He always gets like this, the more Alex pushes him. It doesn’t make him stop; if anything, it spurs him on.

Alex watches as Franco’s dick tries to chub, but something is stopping it. It looks even smaller like this, almost like a– Alex smirks to himself.

“Good, baby. You are so good for me.”

Again.

“You can feel how warm the room is.” A short nod. “I am stroking my hands down your thighs.” A shiver. “And your little clit is beginning to beg for my attention.” A broken whimper.

Franco’s eyes are screwed shut, body tense, like he's bracing himself. He probably is.

"When I tell you to, you will open your eyes and look down."

His breathing is shallow and his chest is flushing red. So beautiful.

"Open your eyes."

Alex doesn't wait for him to follow his order, instead he leans down and presses his tongue against the younger's poor excuse of a cock. It twitches under his tongue, making Alex chuckle.

"Look at you," he mocks, looking up at the other. Franco's eyes are watering already, his mouth opened on a silent moan, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. He looks desperate and ruined and all Alex did was give his tiny dick some attention. "Already a mess, huh?”

Franco nods, trying his best to look up, but his head falls back the second Alex's fingers press against the sensitive skin just under his balls.

"Alex, please," he begs, his hands clutching at the sheets, but not yet moving.

"Please what, baby? I need you to use your words."

A broken sob, his body writhing under Alex. He's trying to move his hips, to get his clit to rub against Alex's palm, but he doesn't let him. He holds Franco's hip down, his thumb digging in the sensitive flesh just enough to keep him grounded.

"Please, just–" Franco cuts himself off, whining loudly when Alex presses his nail against the side of his dick. It's a harsh movement, but the reaction he gets from the younger is enough to make him repeat it, over and over, until Franco's legs are shaking. "Fuck!"

Alex grins, licking a stripe up his dick, making sure his tongue is rough, almost like sandpaper.

"Do you think this little thing can come? I don't think it can."

Franco whines, a pitiful and broken sound. "Alex, no."

"No? Why not, baby? Is this thing not enough to satisfy you?" Alex taps his finger against the underside, laughing when the boy's hips lift from the bed.

"Alex, I'll do anything, please," he sobs, trying to close his legs, but Alex won't let him. He shoves his hands between them and parts them, keeping his knees pressed to the mattress.

"Apologize."

"What?" Franco sounds confused, like he doesn't understand the meaning behind the word.

"You heard me, baby, apologize. Apologize for fucking up my race and I'll make you come."

Alex is looking up at the younger, but he's not looking back, his eyes are still shut tightly. Good, Alex can take him by surprise.

Franco takes a shuddering breath, his lip between his teeth, his cheeks flushed. He's thinking, trying to figure out if his release is worth his apology. Alex can't blame him, not really, he's a proud man.

But, the sooner he gives in, the sooner Alex will take care of him.

"I'm sorry, mommy," he finally whispers, so softly that Alex almost doesn't hear him.

Almost.

Jesus, that’s… That’s new. He’s– Alex is– Jesus Christ, why didn’t he realize this sooner?

"Sorry for what, baby? What should– What should mommy forgive?”

Franco's breathing is picking up again, his fingers twisting the sheets. "I'm sorry for wrecking your race," he says, louder this time. He sounds wrecked and Alex hasn't even fucked him.

Yet.

"That's it, good boy. Now mommy's gonna fuck you until you're begging me to stop, okay, baby? And when you wake up, we will talk about what happens when you fuck with mommy's races."

"No, no, please," Franco sobs, shaking his head. His eyes are still closed.

"You can't come back from this, baby. Not after you ruined my race. You should've known better, but since you didn't, mommy will take care of you.”

Franco's chest is heaving, his body trembling as he tries to get away from Alex's fingers, which are now circling the younger's asshole. "Please, not there, please, Alex."

“You don’t want mommy to fuck your pussy?” Franco shakes his head, trying to push Alex away. The shove is weak, pathetic even. A poor excuse.

Alex ignores him, focusing on pressing his finger inside him, his mouth wrapped around his dick. He's not gentle, he doesn't have to be. “But your cunt is already so wet for me, see?” Franco is wet and loose, his body opening up to the intrusion. Fucking hell, there’s so much lube, he must’ve used at least half a bottle to prep himself before coming to Alex’s room.

It doesn't take long for him to start moaning again, the pain and fear mixing with the pleasure. Alex doesn't waste time, he doesn't want him to have the chance to come. Instead, he keeps him on the edge, sucking on his clit and adding a second finger.

"Mommy," Franco whines, his thighs shaking as he tries to press his knees together.

"Come, baby, mommy is right here," he says, his voice calm, almost loving. The effect is instantaneous, Franco's whole body tenses and then he's coming, his clit pulsing against Alex's tongue.

He licks him through it, waiting until Franco's breathing evens out, until he relaxes on the bed. When Alex is sure that the boy is deep in his headspace, he pushes his cock in.

The whine Franco lets out makes his horrible day worth it.

[thewertsearch]

GA: None Of It Matters CA: yeah it does its important sorry but the fate of the race and purity of the bloodline is important excuse me for being concerned

Equius may be a little weird about blood, but this guy sounds like a straight-up eugenicist. What the fuck are they teaching this kid in sea-dweller school?

Plus, how does bloodline purity even work in this context? All bloodlines are mixed inside the Mother Grub, so it’s not like you can control the process by segregating marriages. Does he want to purify the ‘slurry’ of troll DNA, before it’s consumed by the Grub in the first place?

GA: But You Really Should Know By Now The World Will End Tonight Regardless [...] CA: wwell ok [...] CA: so did your clouds tell you that GA: The Doomsday Scenario In Particular GA: No Not Exactly CA: i got clouds and they dont tell me SHIT they hide nothin but misfortune and monstrosities [...]

CA has clouds and monsters - almost as though he’s seeing clouds on Derse. 

We didn’t see any when Rose was visiting Dave - but then again, Prospit only gets its clouds during the Skaian Eclipse. Does Derse have a dark Eclipse, where the Horrorterrors generate their own esoteric weather patterns? 

The other possibility is that CA is on Prospit, and the ‘misfortune and monstrosities’ he’s seeing are ordinary cloud prophecies. This would bode poorly.

CA: so howw do you knoww then GA: I Have Another Source  

The trolls are lousy with ‘sources’, so I don’t have a clue what Kanaya’s could be. I’ll throw something at the wall anyway, and predict that it’s an 8-Ball to complement Vriska’s cueball.  

CA: ok wwait did she talk to you today CA: wwhat did she say CA: or glub or wwhatevver GA: Something About Longing To Touch You Indiscretely CA: WWWWHAT GA: And That Shes Basically In The Scarlet Throes For You GA: As Deep In The Flushed Quadrant As One Can Be CA: wwait CA: did she actually say that CA: in confidence

Heh. Terezi already fell for this one. 

Anyway, it doesn’t take a genius to pair the concept of quadrants with the four categories of relationship that we’ve seen so far. The flushed quadrant describes a ‘Scarlet’ variety of relationship - in other words, red romance - and, since it involves ‘longing to touch’ someone, it’s probably not the less romantic moirail. Kanaya is implying that CA wants CC as a matesprit. 

This is getting pretty complex - even more so than Karkat’s original description implied. I haven’t needed to be on my toes this much since the Intermission’s time fuckery. 

CA: you dont lie but you do tease and ill tranfuse my kickass royal blood out wwith incontinent musclebeast discharge if i wwont knoww wwhen im gettin hooked

He certainly acts like a noble, doesn’t he? I really don’t think he’s kidding about having royal blood. 

CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands

And you’ve got a lot of growing-up to do. 

[danisharchive]

Mathematical Symbol Fight - https://xkcd.com/2343/

[douyinvids]

by 桑榆 @ 35534523692

i love bullet comments