But video games do it all the time!
I wish more comedians did stuff on video games. Surely there’s lots of material to be had from it.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
OTP: I’m not a huge flonne shipper but it was a major plot point and also because:
BrOTP: Etna bff! Especially if they’re teaming up to wreck shit
OT3: Who else is there but the three of them, Flonne Laharl and Etna if we’re going down this route? Still prefer Laharl and Etna as buds.
NOTP: There was a brief thing in dimension 2 with what I think was his nanny and less said about that the better
OTP: Kaydence! But would it still work out after the first trial (and they were both alive)? We may never know…
BrOTP: I feel like Zeke and Jill being the kind of friendly rivals that try to better themselves? That count as BrOTP?
OT3: Not too difficult because Zeke believes in a form of hippy free love but who would be the third person? An uncompleted triangle with Harvey? Zeke and Kaydence getting Astrid to chill? What if some sort of thing with Jill was possible in a slightly more than mentor/student kind of way? What if we bring in Ekaterina and Dana to join in the free love pile? So many possibilities!
NOTP: Savvy for obvious reasons. Also any guy.
you can see the exact moment where it realizes how bad it fucked up
in which the actor who plays one of television’s least likeable characters is actually super considerate and cool
How can he be such a despicable cunt, then…
Staaahp eet Blank, you’re making me wanna re-play Disgaea and make my OCs into characters and re-live the glory that is the entire story of that game. Then again, I never DID finish Disgaea 2… I could always do that instead…
Well it does so happen that these latest feelings are Disgaea 2 related…
Sighs I’m having too many feelings of a silly humorous game series like Disgaea
THERE’S BEEN A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT
Some people aren’t photogenic. And then there’s this
"No you can’t name your weapon shop ‘Bloodbath and Beyond’."
"THERE IS A TIGER IN THE LIVING ROOM!"
"Don’t worry he cool."
I WANT ONE
your humble spymaster
politics is a dangerous game
Look around your college classroom, spot the virgins.
See, this seems like a game until you skip over the girl with a short skirt and hair in front of her eyes because you heard last summer that she slept with like nineteen guys. You can’t see her hands, but they’re under the table, pulling a rosary through her fingers as she tries to wash the sin off her. She’s only ever kissed three people in her whole life and they’re all girls. She turned down the wrong guy and he told everyone she’s “a whore.” The label “slut” stuck to the bottom of her shoe and swallowed her up.
But that quiet girl who is always reading probably never touched someone else’s penis, you figure, because you don’t know that she goes home and strips down and pulls on tight black leather, you don’t know she’s got a set of whips that could make any set of knees quiver, you don’t know because she’s proud of what she does but she’s not stupid enough to let anyone know about it. She’s sexy, just not here, not where people judge.
See, the truth is: you have no idea who has lost their virginity, because it doesn’t change you. It doesn’t give you some kind of glow or superpower or stamp on your forehead. You know the feeling of waking up on your birthday and thinking “I don’t feel any older whatsoever”? That’s what maybe they’re all so afraid of you finding out: sex doesn’t change you. Sex doesn’t make you an animal, sex doesn’t suddenly make your relationship a million times more stable or intimate or romantic - it can’t fix what’s broken, although it can make the pain go away for a bit. Sex doesn’t really occur with eighty tea lights and a thick white rug. Sex is ugly and loud and frequently awkward, sex is excellent and breathtaking and when you wake up the next morning, you’re the exact same person. There’s not some magical connection with the person in bed beside you. Believe it or not, pregnancy isn’t some kind of punishment - but practice safe sex, get tested, don’t spread your germs around. They want to tell you, “Sex can ruin you” and I’ve heard that a lot as a little girl, that some boy would join me under my sheets and then dump me four days after, used, unhappy.
But I figured out that I’m not a fucking toy. Letting someone have sex with me is not letting them “use” me, because I’m not an object. My father said the issue lay in the fact “Men are insecure and need to know that they’re the best you ever had,” but I think that’s a steaming crock of absolute-wrong and if I didn’t tell the people I’m with how many others I’d slept beside, there would be literally no way for them to know my number, because I don’t rust, I don’t wear out, I don’t get bruised. I’m not a wilting fruit, I don’t go rotten.
But here’s the thing: some people connect sex and emotion. I don’t personally because I am probably secretly an ice storm in disguise, but I still respect my partner’s desires. If they’re the type to want love and sex to coincide, I let them. I don’t make fun, I don’t pull one-night-stands or friends-with-benefits, because it’s not their “reputation” I’m afraid for: it’s their heart I’m defending.
Here’s the thing: Instead of worrying about people’s “purity” and how it defines them as a person, worry instead about how you can protect other people’s emotions.
Because here’s the thing: look around your room and spot the virgins. Look harder. You can’t tell. Sex doesn’t alter people, it doesn’t make them act in a certain way nor dress in a certain manner. Sex and personality have nothing to do with each other. There’s a reason that virginity doesn’t show on someone’s face: because having sex doesn’t cause you to change.