#BUT HEY THIS SOUNDS LIKE A RADICAL IDEA

[lonely-moon-artist-blog]

Thought.

You know what would be funny.? Like what if I tried to mimic phone noises.

Me. A human being.

Phone noises.

[astralnymphh]

𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐊𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑! ★

content: prodigy!abby x nerdy!reader, childhood friends, university-based, fluff (for now), romance + tension (little bit angsty), drabble length but switching up the small caps (experimenting. heh), mainly jotting an idea, not a certified abby expert.

It was an absolute murder to discover that she could not fufill this one off her bucket list.

Fucking video gaming?

Exactamundo! Abby can outstand everybody in nearly anything, being everything from a virtuoso violinist, to a glorified part-time fisherman, and a damn gourmet chef as well. She paraded around the entire campus pursuing a name in every elective and Olympic hobby you could ever think of. Name it, chances are she's done it. Actually, more than done it, all things considered.

But video games? Guess the esteemed Abby Anderson had finally tumbled downhill and suffered defeat; looking you up out of all computer-smart people felt treasonous to her, but seemed high-priority to the eye of the beholder, the eyes in question even rolling. You don't need an in-person class course on fucking Skyrim. Look at the tutorials!

“So, how the hell do I shorten my speedrun times?”

None of it made a lick of sense. Well, the wanting to do speedruns part, you see the appeal in a medieval-inspired game. Speedrunning sucks the fun and the atmosphere out of a truly gorgeous game such as the forenamed. Yet, it's not like you haven't experimented in closed-world speedruns after immersing yourself in collecting all the achievements; Firewatch takes the cake.

But, still, coming to you—a forgotten, childhood friend whom she ghosted—makes no logical sense. Games are easy-peasy. Literal pieces of cake!

You scrunch your nose at the reclined blondie on your bed, confused. “Um, by watching a tutorial?” Almost laying back into a condescending tone, maybe even a little. “Did you even think to do that before knocking in the dead of night?” Her mordant, stick-up-the-ass kind does the same thing to you, so, you can gripe at that game all you desire.

“Hey,” she pouts, sounding out mock-offense. She scoots up from her prone position on the bed to face you—so proper. “Everything has more to it than what you see.” Sure, philosopher. “And there definitely is with video games. I keep losing. Besides, if I can't stomach skydiving or rock-climbing, then this is next on my list.”

“Pft—”

“What? You know I don't do heights.”

Oh, my god. “'You keep losing?'” Is she a prodigy at radical honesty?

Pond-blue eyes toss in a perfect, resentful circle. She scoffs, “Why do you think I came over here?” Complaining right hand flicking with attitude.

“I don't teach beginners.”

Your sarcasm flies not even an inch under her radar; it was always a retreat tactic back in highschool—when this imitative facade first hardened. “Oh, okay.” She bites you back with it too. But it never even occured to her that you might just be serving a tablespoon of teasery. Being old friends, having lonesome yearns, even stubborn prodigies can be painted in a rosy picture.

Still can see those young, faded freckles. Lovely ones.

“This was a mistake, wasn't it?” An unpleasant question. Drops from her lips almost wantonly.

It strains your chest cavity.

Is seeing her a mistake?

Not really. You hope not really. Once, there was a time where she was suddenly rude, dismissive and up every aspiring valedictorian's ass, but all paths lead back, you believe. Somewhere underneath that porcelain facade—and hot, rocking bod—is a clean crack in her over-achiever matrix; softness is bleeding out. You can see the beginning brooks of it like a kingly ichor. Possible smiles that aren't contemptuous.

What next, an apology?

“Can I at least.. say sorry, before going?”

Sorry—going? Fuck, you majorly zoned out. “What?” You loom in closer, throwing the one-brow raise. The proximity barely even occurs to you.

“For being a jerk, for blowing you off, ..” The list implies endlessness as her voice fades out. In a way, you expect her to pick up and continue. But, after the gestures and head-tilts, she pauses. Reinstates eye contact, pauses, and works her lips again. An awkward, prefacing breath skims. “And I guess, 'm also sorry for.. this?”

Before comprehension hits, it is too late. Darkly, a warmth brushes your cheek and a silence catches your lips, blocking your eyes out. It makes you feel blindsided, this short-lived kiss, one you suspend wide eyes for, tilt your neck for, accept without question. A strange deja vu rushes to your nape.

You shiver.

It even ends before you understand it, Abby pulling away with light-glossed eyes you swear are stones of aquamarine in disguise. She cracks; dints a smile in her cheek. Proud, anticipating. Having her this close made your inhales excessive; you needed all the air in the world to function right now. Deep breathing.

She smells like the outdoors.

Naturally.

“Good?” She has to reassure herself.

“Yeah,” you quickly spout, croak even. Wherever in the world your head is, it's not here. “Not really a prodigy at kissing, so..” And while it is somewhere, the remnants of her kiss are phantom. They have not stopped yet.

An amused chuckle greets in gusts across your lips, from your radical honesty, the moment itself, whatever. Crowns you the jokester anyways. “Guess we both have something to learn then.”

Wonder what future that comment entails.

[genderkoolaid]

hey i’m sorry to bother you but what are some warning signs that someone is a terf? i would very much like to be out as gender-fluid at my small town southern school (surprisingly supportive) but the school nurse had that “fallen sisters” book on her desk :( i don’t want to put myself in danger and i don’t know if she was reading it because she’s a terf or because she was curious about what was in it. thank you for your time!

Quick note: a lot of transphobes are not TERFs; they don't subscribe to the movement of radical feminism. But especially right now TERF ideas have become more widespread, since a lot of transphobic people turned to TERF speakers and authors for support. But that's also because a lot of TERF ideas meld very nicely with traditional patriarchal ideas (like the idea that the gender binary is required for safety of women). Things like "trans men are manipulated girls suffering from misogyny!" has gotten really popular recently, but in the past your average transphobe would probably be thinking more along the lines of "huh what a freaky dyke" than assuming it's the patriarchy's fault trans men exist.

Anyways! That's all to say that someone might use transphobic or radical feminist rhetoric without being a radical feminist themselves. Here are some things to watch out for:

Use of "female" and "male"; in medical contexts I tend to give people more grace, but if she's really insistent on sex language that's a red flag.

Highly concerned with pushing womanhood on students AFAB; if they're a TERF this is less likely to look like "pink and bows" and more likely focus on Female Power, uteri and menstruation, and identity with womanhood as a feminist act itself. Comments like "remember you can dress/act however you want and still be a woman!" can be well-meaning but they can also be a subtle way of trying to prevent GNC students from thinking about transitioning.

Fearmongering about the effects of HRT (especially T); educating about all possible effects is important, but if she focuses on negative effects, treats them as horrifying or more dangerous/common then they actually are, that's a red flag. Especially when it's tied to reproductive ability. Same when it comes to surgeries.

If she believes ROGD (rapid onset gender dysphoria) is a real thing, she's transphobic. If she doesn't use that term she might talk about transness/transmasculinity being a social contagion or trend, something young girls are pressured into (esp. by misogyny/lesbophobia), even if this is dressed up with "obviously SOME trans people are real but there's just too many now!!"

Of course, any kind of weirdness around trans people in locker rooms/bathrooms is a major red flag

If she does end up being transphobic, since you mentioned your school is supportive you might be able to tell the admins about that and have them back you up. If there are other trans people at your school, definitely ask them if they've noticed any transphobic behavior from her (you can ask cis folks too although they may be less aware of what subtler transphobia sounds like)

[alice-angel12x]

Born Of Unknown Stardust

Chapter 2

summary: The angles formed the world and all mortal life from dust. One day from the unknown the angels came across bizarre dust, that seemed to have a will of its own. It refused to be molded and shaped to the angel's will. So they cast it aside, till a certain angel got his creative hands on it.

(bittersweet story)

<-Part 1/ part 3 ->

---------------------------------------------------------

150 years Later

Yuu quickly runs through the halls, searching for a place to hide. A flapping of wings was getting closer. Finding an open room, Yuu quickly hides under the desk. Staying as quiet as possible, as the sound of fast-beating wings zipped by the room. Yet Yuu knew better to stay there for long.

Sadly they were no longer the size of a duckling, but the size of a young toddler. So hiding was a lot harder.

So not wanting to get caught, Yuu quickly dove under a pile of sheets and clothes. Soon the chaser returned, and footsteps could be heard.

"Where are you Yuu? I know you're in here?" Lucifer said as he took his sweet time. "You can't hide forever."

Yuu covered their mouth to muffle their giggles. Lucifer chuckled to himself as he heard them. But decided to humor them for a bit, as he quickly looked under the desk. To obviously not find anyone.

"Alright, I guess no one is in here. Where did you go?" Lucifers said as he slowly left the room.

Yuu, the clever little tot they were, knew he was up to something. So burning up some sheets into a ball, and using some magic. Shot the sheet out the door, letting it float like someone was running under the sheets. Lucifer quickly gave chase, as Yuu ran in the opposite direction.

As Lucifer gave chase to the decoy, he heard the small pitter-pater of feet behind him.

"Hey! You Little Trickster, I got you know!" Lucifer chuckled as he swiftly changed direction and quickly caught the young tot.

Yuu squealed and laughed as Lucifer began to relentlessly tickle the child.

"You had me chasing you all morning, when I told you to clean your room. Will you clean your room now?" Lucifer asked as he continued to prod at Yuu.

"I Promise!!!" Yuu gasped from all the tickling.

Yuu giggled as they finally slipped out of Lucifer's hold when something caught their eye. Just beyond the pearly gates, the malted surface of the newly formed earth could be seen. From the window, Yuu stared in awe as Lucifer watched on.

"Da? Did the elders let you join the project yet?" Yuu asked.

"Nope. Still too radical my ideas. Are what they tell me," Lucifer sighed as he picked Yuu up.

"Hmm. Can we make our own earth?" Yuu asked.

"Our own earth? Hmm, maybe. But what would you put on this earth?" Lucifer asked.

"I would... I would fill it with Ducks!" Yuu said proudly.

"Ducks? A world full of ducks huh?" He smiles with a chuckle.

"Yeah, an earth of ducks," Yuu smiles. " I can create stuff like you. I can do it."

"Well, small things. You need to be a little stronger than that to make a whole planet. It takes multiple elder angels to form an Earth," Lucifer explained.

"Then I'll just get stronger, you'll teach me. Won't you?" Yuu asked.

"I'll teach you everything I know," Lucifer promised.

---------------

Yuu from then on would practice and study harder than anyone to accomplish their dream. Lucifer watched with pride as they watched Yuu also become a dreamer like him, yet so unique from him as well.

Lucifer watched with pride as Yuu showed off their most recent invention, the aurora machine. The other angels watched in awe as colors danced across the air.

"Da! Da! Did you see?! It worked!" Yuu shouted excitedly as they leaped into Lucifer's arms.

"I think all of heaven is going to see it the aurora continues to stretch across the sky like that," Lucifer smiles as He and Yuu watch the rainbow light show.

"When we make our own Earth, can I fill its skies with Auroras?" Yuu asked with a hopeful smile.

"It will be our planet, so you can fill it with whatever we want," Lucifer smiles.

-----------------

Soon Yuu's craft got more and more ambitious, but being the craft person they were. Most of these amazing inventions looked unassuming at a glance.

One day they created something special, thou to the naked eye it seemed like a regular ceramic jar. They excitedly hurried down to Lucifer's workroom...

.....

Only to see that Lucifer was not there, or anywhere.

"Da? Da!" Yuu called, but their voice echoed throughout the empty house.

Yuu sighed as they realized that Lucifer once more had run off to earth. Ever since the elder's completion of the blue planet, Lucifer would visit the planet. At first, it was every once in and while, then it turned 3 times a month, and before Yuu knew it, Lucifer would be gone for days on end every week. This went on for years

But when he was home, his mind was always elsewhere. Sadly for Yuu, they were too young to understand that their Father was love-struck. Yuu would see him eager at work in his workshop on the few days he remained at home.

"Da, check out what I made," Yuu said as they held up the ceramic jar.

"Oh, what a beautiful jar. Just put it on the workbench. I'll make sure to check it out later," Lucifer smiled as he tapped his hand on the table.

"What are you making Da?" Yuu asked as they floated a bit to get a better look.

"O-Oh it's umm Nothing!" Lucifer panicked slightly as he hid it from Yuu's sight.

Yuu only caught a glimpse, seeing something red.

"Is it for Earth? I thought the Elders said to leave it alone," Yuu pointed out innocently.

"Y-yeah, but I... Umm. It's. It's gonna be something amazing. They'll see," Lucifer said as he looked down at the red fruit with fondness. "She thinks so," He mumbles softly.

"Huh?" Yuu asked with a confused expression. "Da?"

"Yes, Bud/sweety?" Lucifer said, snapping out of his daydream.

"Can you promise me something?" Yuu asked nervesly.

"Of course, What is it?" Lucifer asked as he kneeled to Yuu's level.

“Promise me… You won’t do anything that will get you in trouble,” Yuu said. “Don’t do something that will put you in timeout.”

"Yuu I'm not going to get in-" "Please Da!" Yuu interrupted.

The Angel could see tears of worry begin well up in Yuu's star-filled eyes. Lucifer smiled slightly, slightly conflicted, but promised Yuu to avoid trouble.

“Alright, but it’s your bedtime isn’t it?” Lucifer smiled as he picked up Yuu.

“Ugh Da! No bedtime," Yuu laughs as they try to wiggle out of Lucifer's hold.

After a bit of a playful struggle, Lucifer managed to get his energetic tot into bed.

"There," Lucifer gasps as he catches his breath. combing his back into place.

"Were's wrinkle?" Yuu asked as they looked for their stuffed toy.

"Oh, we can't forget Wrinkle," Lucifer smiles as he picks up Wrinkle the Duck plushy. He smiles as he watches Yuu get comfy as they snuggle their duck plushy.

Lucifer leans down and gives one last warm hug, as Yuu did return.

"I love you Da," Yuu says sleepily. "No trouble stuff."

"No trouble stuff, and I love you too," Lucifer said with one last squeeze.

With a yawn sleep soon took over Yuu as Lucifer gave a kiss on the forehead. Turned off the lights he quietly slipped out of the room. When Yuu knew that Lucifer was mostly heading out, they pulled the drawstring from Wrinkles back. Activating the music box inside.

(Song: Waiting in the wings reprise. From Tangled)

🎶"Guess by now I oughta know my place. Do your humble duty with a smile on your face," Yuu sang quietly. 🎶"Father knows how much I love him. But he's always doing other things. So I'll keep waiting in the wings."🎶

Yuu slowly slid out of bed and floated over to the window to see Lucifer sneaking out. Most definitely looking to go to Earth once more.

🎶"I crave so much. And yet I kept on waiting. One glance, one touch. And I just kept on waiting,"🎶 Yuu continued as they watched Lucifer open a portal to Earth.

"🎶And when it came, it came with strings. So I kept waiting in the wings,🎶" Yuu sang as a tear ran down their cheek. It's so tough pretending it didn't hurt.

____________________________________________________

Continue? Angst enough yet 😏

Masterlist Here

[dukeofankh]

Almost everybody has at least a *little* bit of a point.

Yeah. Even them. And being wrong about everything else doesn't actually change that. They might not know how that point should actually be interpreted, they might come to foolish or even actively harmful conclusions from that point. They might radically overstate how prevalent or important the point is. But don't fall into the trap of refusing to acknowledge things that are true just because a bad person says them.

I cannot tell you how many times I've seen someone from a group I belong to dunking on someone from some outgroup, even a very harmful outgroup, and in doing so, denying basically true things that we would absolutely agree with if we were talking about them in private.

I dunno. Maybe it bugs me for neurodivergent reasons. Maybe I'm a pedantic ass.

The other day I got into a massive fight online with a guy in a feminist group because he was squabbling with a bit of a dipshit who pointed out that men are under a lot of pressure to become financially successful, and that's why they do stupid shit like get into crypto.

And like... rather than say "yeah, men are still expected under hegemonic masculinity to be breadwinners, despite the advances of women into the workforce, the economy being in shambles and the middle class having been whittled to a toothpick at this point. We need to work as feminists to challenge that gendered expectation, and as leftists to rebuild the power of labour to allow everyone, both men and women, to have a living wage that can allow for a family and a dignified life." This other feminist guy decided instead that, since the concept of men being pressured to be economic providers was being used in a way that sounded like it was suggesting that women only want to date rich men, it was redpill propaganda and, therefore, fascist misinformation. He went with, "what are you talking about, Gen X killed the concept of corporate success as marker of personal worth, everyone agrees that being a workaholic is bad and unattractive now. The idea that you think you'll be judged for being poor is a lie spread by the right to radicalize you into hating women." He did not react well when I pointed out that he was just as wrong as the other guy was. More wrong, actually.

And like...you can build multiple arguments from the same data point. Some are well reasoned, some aren't. Someone can feel pressure and assume it's much more widespread than it is, or that it takes a much more extreme form than it really does. But if you're going to coherently argue against an idea, you have to honestly appraise the situation and figure out what grains of truth it has in it. You have to acknowledge that core root of truth and show them how it means something else.

If, instead of doing that, you just deny the true thing because the other person's argument is built on it and you want to stamp it out? Because, hey, they interpreted it wrong, it's not like they really believe something true? You act as though a fact used to support a lie is also a lie. And if you do that, and argue against the facts because their conclusions are stupid, you construct a little world where, in refusing to accept both their flawed argument AND the fact it's based on, you become more wrong than they are. And you make the deeply foolish choice of picking a fight in that world. And if it's on the internet, that little world can become pretty big. Tactically, it's about the dumbest thing you could do. It ensures that they will keep fighting you because...you're fucking obviously wrong? It radicalizes people, because suddenly the only people who will acknowledge the truth on this thing they care about are other terrible people. It makes your side look dogmatic and ignorant. And apart from all of that...it gets things completely backwards.

Your principles are what you want to use to change the world for the better. You believe them because you honestly believe that following your principles improves things, because they are based on a solid grasp of how the world works. Your beliefs follow from what is true. If you flip it so that whether something is true is based on whether it supports your beliefs...that's a bad road to go down.

[00belle00lovely00]

You got any Hoppy x Kickin headcannons?

YUP. MANY.

💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚

My biggest headcanon is that Kickin would be always going around, thinking he is the best of the best, the coolest of the coolest, and the most radical of all the smiling critters. But, unlike how he treats everyone with his massive ego, he is CONSTANTLY (and rather pathetically) trying to impress Hoppy. Surprisingly, she is completely oblivious to this, even though this has been going on for years now.

Alternative headcanon: literally Judy Hops and Nick Wild

Kickin would probably either try to impress her with terrible flexing or bad pickup lines. And I'm not talking about corny nor cringe pickup lines, literally PATHETIC pickup lines. Like- he would go: Kickin: "Hey Hops! My friend over there thinks you're pretty!" *points over at an empty bench before rushing over there, laying on it with a small pose.* Kickin: "Sup."

Your honour, same energy, same tastes. Soulmates ya'll.

Would definitely share each other's clothes (if they had any).

Hoppy has always been a bleeding heart, a 'people pleaser' if you will, so whenever she gets a wound after playing in a match, she tries to dismiss it as other's worry just because she feels guilty about worrying others about her. BUT KICKIN? OH NO. THAT BOY WOULD BREAK INTO HER HOUSE THE MOMENT HE HEARD THE SLIGHTEST SOUND FROM A PAPER CUT. The irony is that Hoppy would do the SAME EXACT THING for him

While Hoppy and Kickin are both equally sports and rather competitive, Hoppy prefer ball games while Kickin prefers 'skill sports' as he quotes.

HOPPY GIRLBOSS. KICKIN PATHETIC SKATER/SURFER.

PROVE ME WRONG. HOPPY IS NOT ONLY ENERGETIC BUT STRONG ASF, SHE BETTER BE CARRYING THAT MFER OR I SWEAR TO GOD-

You'll know Bobby wouldn't leave Kickin alone for months if she ever got to find out he liked Hoppy. Oh hell nah, she would do GROUP MEETINGS (except without Hoppy) JUST TO TALK ABOUT THEIR NEXT 'DATE'. She is probably the second reason why he is so in denial about it.

Even though Kickin's is the most obvious, Hoppy would have a crush on him as well. Yet wouldn't straight up notice it and thinks it's just a "regular friend to friend feelings".

They are VERY competitive. But surprisingly, in a very friendly way. They would constantly dare each other to do certain things and cheer each other up whenever they won against each other's teams.

"Who would block a bullet for the other?" BOTH OF THESE DUMB DUMBS.

If they ever got married, their honeymoon would be the fuckin moon.

Hollywood rockstar x athletic astronaut. That or BFFs to lovers

Live laugh love Craftycorn and Bobby literally making fan art and fanfiction of their friends.

💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚

(Gosh- first time I've ever done headcanons. This was surprisingly refreshing. IDK if it would be a good idea to even go on AO3 and write something about these two fellas cause I STILL gotta finish that one chapter of my TADC one)

(Actually- let me know what you guys think!)

[manstrans]

“Men can go to hobby groups and-“

Women can too? I spent like 16-17 years as a woman??? I was invited to hobby groups and groups to chill and hang out.

I felt safe in these spaces?

They’re not spaces to share emotions, feelings and struggles while being able to learn and grow as people?

Like, I dunno, I also grew up where a man deciding he wanted to shave his legs because it feels nice got him called a woman, and shamed so much he stopped doing it and lived in discomfort.

Sounds systemic and unsafe to me.

Hobby spaces aren’t safe spaces in the same way that spaces carved out to be safe spaces are.

Also marginalized men exist.

Men of Colour, Trans Men, Gay men?? Queer men as a whole?

Men targeted to uphold patriarchy that are then discarded once the patriarchy is settled.

A black man wanting a space where he isn’t treated like he’s inherently dangerous isn’t just important because he’s a man, but because that idea he is inherently a threat for being a BLACK man is dangerous.

People can’t remove that from conversations about gender either.

Race will ALWAYS matter, and every time I see conversations where people are saying “men don’t deserve safe spaces I should be allowed to bash ALL men (except trans men who are men lite/especially trans men who are traitors to womenhood)” I just think, “so white women convinced you men of colour oppress them for being men, as if white women still don’t get these men punished for being black.

Gay men don’t really 1:1 oppress straight women either.

Men being isolated and kept from their OWN communities is an issue. White supremacy does in fact allow outer groups to strengthen itself until it no longer needs that outer groups strength then it discards them.

There are black neo-nazis. There are gay ones. There are trans men bigots.

There are white women neo-nazis.

Bigots who have fallen into bigotry, and into extremism, usually are fed the ideals and it’s so easy to keep them there by pointing at something vitriol and saying, “look, see, they hate you, they’re your enemies, they deserve your hate and ire”.

Like, idk, that 12 year old boy isn’t good and innocent from his racist and harmful ideals he’s slinging around, but if no one helps him out of those beliefs he’ll be a 25 year old man with those harmful beliefs.

And I don’t know any way of thinking that says a 12 year old listens to horrible bitter put downs over like, long understanding conversations.

Like, even if you personally (broadly, not at you) don’t want to lead someone from those ideals, someone has to teach. Someone has to willingly pull people away from that.

People talk about rehabilitative justice and then turn around and say, “hey I think you’re harmful for existing and you deserve suffering”.

As if that helps somehow?

This just rounds back to, as well, marginalized men exist, and the Men vs Women dichotomy is literally Radical Feminism which ignores the racial factors of oppression. Which is how white women get away wish racism to black women while also saying “we need to stay united”

^^^^^ long but worth reading

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hey Slug! Now that all snippets are out, what are your thoughts so far on the BB songs for the 3rd DRB? I'm especially excited for Ichiro's. It reminds me of Hiphoppia but with less intense dream vision feel and more funky back alley hip hop stuff. Jiro's sounds good too tho!

I love anon asks like this that remind me to go look at the new stuff that comes out... I would never think to do it otherwise. Thank you; it's very sweet of you.

Let's fire up the old YouTube and give them a listen.

Ichirou -- H歴維新 / The H Age Revolution

(Side note about the title: I'm using "revolution" here in a general sense, but this specific wording is evocative of the Meiji Restoration, the political revolution in the late 1800s that ended the regime of the Tokugawa shoguns and "restored" the old social order under the emperor while radically transforming Japanese society as a whole. Here, we should understand that Ichirou is tearing down Chuuouku's reign to usher in a new state of society.)

(Fifteen seconds in) YOOO this goes hard. I like this beat and the vaguely military-esque theme w/ the horns.

(At end of preview) DAMN okay. Give me a sec to get my thoughts in order.

Every time I see the language in these songs, I'm reminded of a video of an NHK presenter guy reading the lyrics of one song and announcing dryly, "They're all very good at kanji."

I love how this is much punchier than Break the Wall. Ichirou seems to be much more of an active agent in it, not just the figurehead leader of a revolution--and I LOVE that. It's great to see Ichirou embracing his individuality and not simply playing into the image of MC BB that others want him to be.

I also love all the callbacks to previous songs, quite literally going back to basics. ペンは剣より偽りがない ("The pen is mightier than the sword, and that's a fact!") goes all the way back to Hypmic's very first song's ペンは剣よりヒプノシスマイク ("The Hypnosis Mic is mightier than the sword")

Can't wait to get the full version and learn the lyrics. Seems like a hella fun song to rap.

Jirou -- Sunshine

(Five seconds in) Getting "This Means War" vibes.

(Fifteen seconds in) Bro what is this autotune... This sounds like the opening of Rhyme Anima season 2.

(Forty-five seconds in) "I'm ready; the wind's pushing me along; I'm flying with the wings Ikebukuro's given me" Hell YES Jirou you get that identity independent of Ichirou

(Fifty seconds in) "I can't shake the past. I take my scars with me off into a future--a future that's still unknown." Yo this is bars. (I'm butchering its lyricism but whatever) I love that Jirou is actually acknowledging his past and his struggles instead of pushing it away. You notice how his comments on the past are always either "Ichirou was so cool" or "Saburou used to be such a cute kid; what happened?" ? It's good to see him finally being honest enough to touch on his hurt feelings.

(End) Hmm... I don't know how I feel about this one at first liston. I really like Jirou's voice actor's singing voice, so I'm kinda not feeling the autotune. On the other hand, his singing voice definitely has more of a sweet/young flavor, and I can see the authors wanting to lean away from that to make him sound more adult. I think my issue is this song sounds... idk, a bit too idol pop rock to my tastes. I don't mean that idol pop rock is a bad thing; it's simply not my personal preference.

Here's a selection of people in the comments having a normal one:

"Wtf he's hot now"

"I'm picturing Jirou going to school the day after this song drops and his friends being like 'EYYY' and he's like 'Aw, you listened to it? Thanks, guys!' Then a bunch of girls swarm him and he deadass has no idea what they're on about it"

"Say it isn't so... Not my sweet baby boy dumbass Jirou... They made him hot af..."

"I feel like a mom watching my widdle Jiro-chan grow up"

Saburou -- 朱夏 / Maturity

(Side note about the title: Japanese borrows some terms for stages of life from ye olde Chinese (<- very technical term) wherein stages of life correspond to colors and seasons. You may know the word "seishun" (blue spring) or have seen blue = youth as a recurring piece of imagery in Japanese media. (BSD's Blue Period, anyone?) "Shuka" (red summer) is the stage that encompasses most of adulthood; it's the summer or prime of a person's life. The word conveys a sense of energy and a greater understanding of the world than in the youthful seishun period. Sounds like the Hypmic authors want to convey that our baby boy is growing up! *sobs into a hankie*)

(Five seconds in) Chill lofi hip-hop beats for studying

(End) Hmm... Musically, I liked the piano as a consistent piece of imagery for Saburou. It was a little too chill for me, but I always say this and always warm up to Hypmic songs over time lol.

Lyrically, I kept thinking throughout the video "This would be easy to translate" because Saburou monologues for most of it haha. Apart from the imagery related to seasons and the BB's heat/energy "firing" him up to reach the hot summer of adulthood, most of the song is surprisingly literal and straightforward. Saburou states in plain terms that he wants to go be his own person (seems to be the running theme of this album), but it's a departure from his usual style of complex imagery and vocabulary. I would guess that's on purpose, as the song opens with "All through my childhood, I could never wait to grow up. I'm a better rapper than Ichirou, but no one ever sees me as anything but an accessory to him. At least I'm better than Jirou in every way-- oh, who am I kidding? Look at me going on like an edgy middle schooler. I'm always smart, collected, calm--but on the inside, I'm NOT okay!" That is, Saburou is purposefully throwing away his attempts to look smart and mature for his age. He's allowing himself to be rough and emotional like any fourteen year old.

Really fun start to an album; can't wait to hear all the songs! Thanks again for sending this ask, anon.

[allaboutmagic]

💫 Intro 💫

heyyyyy - welcome!

I'm Allie, she/they, in my mid-twenties and i really like writing (that sounds like a problem and i gotta be honest, sometimes it is, but most of the time its marvelous and fun and i couldnt imagine spending my free time doing anything else) This is my second blog (my main one is @allaboutlov3). Over there I mainly post fanfiction content (marauders era, various ships; if you're interested in that feel free to check it out) This blog right here focuses on my original works.

If there is anything you'd like to know please don't hesitate to ask! I love chatting with y'all about anything, everything or nothing at all.

Also, English is not my first language so please keep that in mind. If you want to be my beta reader - which would be kinda crazy, but also really fucking awesome, I'd absolutely truly and honestly love to have you- just send me a message!

Proud (and new) member of the creators' club (@creators-club) hosted by @bardic-tales

Under the cut you may find summaries of my stories (right now theres only one, but hey - that something right?) Also theres a random list of the tags im using and why (its similar to the one on my main blog in case youre wondering!)

The Lilac Crown: A fantasy story set in the kingdom of Hatolea. On her sixteenth birthday, a group of radicals invade the castle of Metael and kidnap Elisabeth Darrington. This must be a big mistake, as her brother is actually next in line to the throne. However, Elisabeth soon realizes that the things she thought she knew may be completely different after all. She no longer knows who she can trust. All she knows is that this upcoming journey will change her life forever.

allie writes: my own writing and random ideas that I have

allie rambles: this will be used whenever I add my opinions to smth or just randomly ramble yet again

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 20

Lindsay barely slept last night. Today was going to be…interesting. She was going to babysit her best friend. Lindsay practically grew up with Sammy, from innocent elementary slumber parties to swapping their first kiss stories in high school. Even calling her a best friend didn’t do their relationship justice. Sisters fit better.

But today would be radically different than any other time she’d spent with Sammy. They weren’t hanging out as equals, best friends, or sisters. No, Lindsay was babysitting her best friend. She would be responsible for checking—and changing—her best friend’s diapers. Lindsay was in charge of Sammy.

How was she supposed to handle this kind of situation? What could she possibly say to Sammy? Or balance their years of history with Sammy’s current needs? She expected to be sharing design ideas for their dorms, not complimenting how nice Sammy’s nursery looks.

And how would Sammy react to this new relationship? What would happen when Sammy lay on the changing table waiting for Lindsay to put her in a new diaper? Or what happened if Sammy misbehaved? Would Lindsay have to put her best friend in timeout?

It was overwhelming. But Lindsay knew she had to be there for her best friend. Wanted or not, this was Sammy’s new life. Sammy was her best friend, so she would do whatever it took to make Sammy’s life better.

Lindsay knocked on Allie’s door at 12:45 in the afternoon, full of nerves but excited to see Sammy.

“Hey, sis, come in!” Allie says, welcoming Lindsay inside, “you excited for today?”

Lindsay shrugs noncommittally, “I think so, it’s just going to be strange babysitting my best friend.”

“I’m sure it will be, it’s not a situation you ever expected to find yourself in! But I’m sure Sammy will be excited to spend the day with you!”

“I sure hope so, Allie! Where is she?”

“She’s still napping, I figured I’d wake her up once you got here. I want to show you everything before we do so you’re not struggling to find anything today.”

Lindsay notices the shattered Lego set on the ground, “what happened here?”

“Oh, Sammy had a little tantrum last night. She didn’t want to stop building for bed. Had to put her in timeout for the first time.”

“That’s not encouraging, I was really hoping to avoid tantrums or punishing her. It would be super awkward.”

“It comes with the territory, Linds. I know you’ll want to treat her like your former best friend, but she is a Little now. She can’t always control her emotions and they get the best of her. You just have to push your past aside and be firm with her. A ten-minute timeout in the corner will usually calm her down.”

“Ugh, I hope she doesn’t need that. Maybe she’ll be happier after a nap. But…is it mean to admit the thought of seeing Sammy pouting in timeout sounds like the cutest thing.”

“You would have loved seeing her last night, then. Anyway, let's get upstairs, and I’ll give you the lay of the land before we wake her.”

They head upstairs, careful not to wake Sammy as they do.

Lindsay immediately spots Sammy sleeping peacefully in her crib. She walks over to her, peering down over the rails. Sammy is wearing a light blue onesie, matching socks, hair in pigtails, happily sucking on her matching pacifier. It’s impossible to miss the diaper bulging out from her onesie. Lindsay doesn’t need to check her diaper, it’s heavily used.

“Awww!” Lindsay exclaims, “look at her! She looks so cute! And the matching accessories, Allie! I could eat her up!”

 “I know, right? I couldn’t help myself. You know me—only the best for my Little. Anyway, the changing table is here, obviously. These are her daytime diapers, these are for night. The nighttime ones are so thick they make her waddle so much. Changing supplies are here, diaper pail there.”

“Got it.”

Clothes are in the dresser. You probably won’t need a change of clothes, but with Littles you never know. I forgot to mention downstairs, but the fridge is stocked with snacks and juice, and her sippy cups are next to the regular glasses. You can’t miss them. And don’t let her convince you she doesn’t need one, Linds.”

“Okay, okay, no regular glasses, got it.”

“I let Sammy know before I put her down for her nap that you’d be coming over to spend the day with you while I run errands. She seemed excited.”

“What do you mean ‘seemed’ excited?”

“Well, I think she’s in the same place you are. It’s going to be strange for her, too. She wasn’t thrilled at first that you’d see her like this, but she came around eventually.”

Lindsay looks over at Sammy. A fresh wave of nerves washes over her. It was time to wake her up.

Allie walks over to the crib, lowering the bars. She gently touches Sammy’s shoulder. “Sammy, Sammy, time to wake up!”

Sammy slowly stirs. She turns on her back and kicks off her blankets. She stretches her arms and legs, diaper crinkling as she does. She opens her eyes, finding Allie and Lindsay looking down at her.

Sammy’s face flushes red in embarrassment.

“Did you sleep well, Sammy?” Allie asks sweetly.

Sammy spits out her pacifier. “I-I-I guess so,” she stutters.

“Hi, Sammy!” Lindsay adds, “I’m so excited for today!”

Sammy gives a meek smile as she tries to cover herself with her blanket.

“Give her a few minutes to wake up, Linds. She’s always groggy after she wakes up. But first, we need to get you into a dry diaper.”

Sammy’s eyes go wide in trepidation, clearly not wanting to be changed in front of her friend. But before she can say anything, Allie swoops down and picks Sammy up.

Lindsay watches as Sammy is carried to the changing table, unsure what to do. Every part of her wants to hang back, giving her best friend privacy and dignity, even as she knows she needs to be there. She stands there, unmoving, as she decides what to do.

Sammy is lying on the changing table, hands covering her eyes.

“Lindsay, can you come over here? I want to be sure you know how to handle a diaper change.”

Sammy whimpers.

Lindsay walks to the changing table. She puts her hand on Sammy’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. “Sammy, you don’t need to be embarrassed! You know I would never, ever make you feel bad for this!”

Sammy doesn’t move her hands from her face.

“Okay, getting the diaper off is the easy part. But it's better to have the new diaper ready before you remove it. You don’t want her leaking on the changing table.”

Sammy squirms hearing that.

“Grab one there and then fold it in half—yes, just like that—and then fluff it up. Yes, perfect. Now, get the wipes ready and start getting the tabs off.”

Lindsay follows Allie’s instructions, hand shaking slightly as she does. It’s such a foreign feeling changing your best friend’s diaper. Especially as Allie gives instructions while Sammy lies right there. She rips the tabs off Sammy’s diaper, pulling it back.

“Good, now roll it up and toss it in the diaper pail. Perfect. Now, lift Sammy’s legs and slide the clean diaper under her.”

Lindsay does and is surprised at how light Sammy is. She easily lifts Sammy’s legs with one hand, sliding her diaper under with the other.

Okay, perfect. It’s best to warm the wipes a bit, Sammy doesn’t appreciate cold wipes.”

Lindsay watches as Sammy squirms in embarrassment, wishing she knew what to say to her best friend. She wipes Sammy down, feeling more awkward than ever before.

“Now, all you need to do is powder her. Great. And then tape it up, ensuring her leak guards are standing straight.”

Lindsay follows the instructions.

“There, all done, Sammy!” Allie coos, “nothing to be embarrassed about!”

Sammy still keeps her hands over her face. Her red face was unmistakable even with her hands covering most of her face.

“Sammy, sweetie, can you help me choose something to wear, or would you prefer to keep wearing your onesie?” Allie hoped getting to choose her clothes would snap Sammy out of her embarrassment.

Sammy slowly moves her hands. “I-I want t-to choose, Allie.”

“Great! Thank you for helping, Sammy!”

Lindsay listens, still not used to hearing Sammy talked down to like a toddler.

Allie shows Sammy a few choices before Sammy settles on a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans.

Lindsay can’t help but notice the jeans have no buttons or fly, only an elastic waistband. But she’s happy the outfit looks surprisingly mature, much less infantile than the onesie she wore. It would surely make both of them more comfortable in these clothes.

Even still, Lindsay was worried about being alone with Sammy. Seeing her like this made it so much more real.

“Alright, let’s get downstairs and eat some lunch before I go. How does that sound?” Allie asks both of them.

“That sounds good, Allie!” Lindsay answers, “what do you say Sammy, you as hungry as I am?”

Sammy nods shyly.

“Sammy, it’s me! You don’t need to act all shy!” Lindsay prods Sammy.

“I’m sorry, Linds. It’s hard having you see me like…like…this.”

“Do you really think I care? I’ll never judge you for this! I just want to spend time with you!”

“R-really?”

“Yes, really! Now, can we go downstairs and eat? I’m starving!” Without even thinking about it, Lindsay reaches her hand out to Sammy. To her surprise, Sammy grabs it, holding her hand as she follows Lindsay downstairs.

Go to Chapter Twenty One.

[vulturejuice]

[Image ID: A 13-panel comic which depicts two furry characters, a cougar and a stoat, in an argument about political lesbianism. It is coloured in the palette of the lesbian flag, with the cougar in pink colours and the stoat in orange colours. End ID]

This is a comic I made last December as a final project for a Communication and Sexuality class! It was super fun to get to use my OCs for a school project and the research for it was super interesting and meaningful to me as a lesbian myself.

A full transcript of the comic, as well as a list of citations, is available below the cut!

Transcript and image descriptions:

Panel 1: The cougar sits in a chair reading a book.

Panel 2: The cougar turns a page and the stoat enters the frame without the cougar noticing.

Panel 3: The stoat speaks very close to the cougar’s face, startling her. Stoat: “Whatcha readin’?” Cougar: GAH!

Panel 4: The cougar holds the book up to the camera, revealing the phrase “POLITICAL LESBIANISM” on its cover. The stoat looks at it with her hand on her chin. Cougar: Oh... I was just reading this book about POLITICAL LESBIANISM Stoat: Oh hm

Panel 5: The cougar reads from a stack of papers. The stoat puts her hand to her cheek and closes her eyes. A thought bubble comes from the stoat which depicts women standing in a circle holding hands while two men look on angrily. Stoat: That’s that thing from like the 80s, right? Where feminists thought all women should be lesbians? Cougar: Yeah, the Leeds Revolutionary Feminists put out a paper detailing as much in 1979. 

Panel 6: The cougar shrugs, holding the papers out towards the stoat. The stoat grabs for them excitedly. Cougar: Basically, anyone who associated with men was the enemy! Stoat: Hey, sounds good to me! Who needs ‘em, right?

Panel 7: The cougar puts her hands on her hips and glares at the stoat. The stoat holds the papers and frowns. Cougar: Oh, come on! Gender essentialist much? Not to mention their focus on the penis as a tool of oppression... Where does that leave pre- and non-op trans women?

Panel 8: The stoat’s eyes widen and she points at the paper. The cougar throws up one hand in exasperation. Stoat: Wait! It says here that a political lesbian is a “woman-identified woman.” Shouldn’t that include trans women? Cougar: Not what that means!

Panel 9: The cougar turns to the camera and raises her finger in the air. She pulls a new stack of papers up from outside the panel. The stoat looks between the papers she is holding and the new papers in confusion. Cougar: In their 1970 manifesto, the Radicalesbians ask that women craft our own identities by relating to each other, not men’s ideas of what we should be. They’re not really talking about gender identity the way we do today.

Panel 10: The stoat puts her hands on her hips and throws her head back, holding her papers to her side. The cougar puts out her hands in protest, and the papers she’s holding fall. Stoat: Right. I guess you think everyone was transphobic back then. Cougar: Hey, I never said that!

Panel 11: The cougar lifts up a small record and smiles down at it. The stoat glares at it as she tucks her papers under her arm. Cougar: Take the radical feminist lesbian separatist music collective, Olivia Records! They supported and even bodily defended their trans sound engineer, Sandy Stone, when her role at the collective was questioned and she was threatened with transphobic violence.

Panel 12: The stoat crosses her arms and tries to interject. The cougar keeps talking as she throws the record away behind herself. Stoat: Sure, but- Cougar: No, it’s so-called gender critical feminists who spit in the face of trans women’s contributions to our rich lesbian history. Our love of women and rejection of prescribed sex roles is what brings us together - not out hatred of men!

Panel 13: The stoat turns away from the cougar in anger. The cougar smiles and puts a hand on the stoat’s corner. Stoat: Oh, whatever! I don’t want to talk about it anymore if you’re just going to tell me I’m wrong all the time. Cougar: Look at it this way... we’re just taking part in the storied lesbian tradition of pointless arguing!

Citations

Ahmed, S. (2016). An affinity of hammers. TSQ: Transgender Studies Quarterly, 3(1-2), 22-34. https://doi.org/10.1215/23289252-3334151   

Enszer, J. R. (2016). “How to stop choking to death”: Rethinking lesbian separatism as a vibrant political theory and feminist practice. Journal of Lesbian Studies, 20(2), 180-196. https://doi.org/10.1080/10894160.2015.1083815   

Love your enemy? The debate between heterosexual feminism and political lesbianism. (1981). Onlywomen Press.

O’Donnell, K. (2019). The theological basis for trans-exclusionary radical feminist positions. In N. Banerjea, K. Browne, E. Ferreira, M. Olasik, & J. Podmore (Eds.), Lesbian feminism: Essays opposing global heteropatriarchies. Bloomsbury Academic & Professional.

Thurlow, C. (2022). From TERF to gender critical: A telling genealogy? Sexualities. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1177/13634607221107827   

Weiss, P. A. (Ed.). (2018). Feminist manifestos: A global documentary reader. New York University Press.

Williams, C. (2016). Radical inclusion: Recounting the trans inclusive history of radical feminism. TSQ: Transgender Studies Quarterly, 3(1-2), 254-258. https://doi.org/10.1215/23289252-3334463

[goodluckclove]

hey clove! i'm taking an ap visual arts class this year and we need to do a "sustained investigation" aka create a series of works connecting to and exploring a theme. one i'm thinking about a lot is relating queer people and the essence of queerness to divinity and also the occult, as a lash-back at christian nationalism and a celebration of queer joy. some examples of this would be comparing the transmasculine experience to the christian creation narrative and gnc/genderfluid people to figures similar to dionysus. i'm still workshopping the concept, do you have any thoughts on this or experiences you'd be willing to share so i can think of specific pieces and ideas to explore?

also i recently bought a binder and i felt so pretty and masculine but at the same time felt this overwhelming freedom to be feminine. it was really cool and i've decided i'm going to grow my hair out long again. i felt a lot like scott, just having this sort of wild feminine whimsy, and it felt really nice

hope you're doing well!! glad you were able to relax a bit :))))

Dude I'm literally planning a short story about a transmasc man who forms a relationship from childhood with the voice of God. This is crazy. I'll tell you about it later but there's so much potential there and it's such a cool idea. The words virgin birth in terms of the virgin Mary herself being Jesus Christ. An idea of a god that arranged for the circumstances of something that has to grow into an intended outcome even if through struggle. A god that like learns from trans people and finds it interesting because it's different and it's the same and now people are making new genders? You made new ones? Why did it take this long for you to think of new ones? I threw up about five minutes ago because I am the child of severe alcoholics and yet if you allow me two cocktails my body will collapse on itself like a dying star.

Also fun fact you can still be Scott-core without your binder if you want. He's got a chest too. His secret is that if anyone tries to question the validity of a man with breasts he gets really, truly, openly bored and politely waits for them to make their point before changing the topic and not acknowledging what they said at all.

The binder sounds very useful though. I miss my old binder. If that's the thing that makes you feel powerful being masculine and feminine that's fucking radical as hell. Wear a pretty skirt and a cool shirt and put like a fucking scrunchie in your hair. There's so many options and if you're a guy or masc leaning person who takes advantage of them you are just objectively more interesting, case closed. Anyone who is locking themselves out of half the amount of baubles and drapery that exists because of gender or body type is at a strategic disadvantage.

I was going to say that if my man Scott saw you on the street he'd be proud, but I know he would be unable to perceive the potential risks or fears. He's so insufferably Non-judgemental that he could bump directly into you by accident and come out with no other thought than "I am the same height as who I believe to be a child".

Edgar, on the other hand, would absolutely stare at you too closely until they felt weird and looked away, but would think about your style and freedom on and off for days afterwards.

I need to sleep for a few hours you people need to stop being interesting and important to me.

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic 1.1

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom prepares for his date

word count: 4,420

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

One more day. That was all Tom had before his show. One more day before the stress of performance reviews would finally be behind him. One more day until he could go on his date with Noelle.

The only problem was she didn't have a ticket.

Tom wanted to find Daniel himself, he was ready to break into his room if he had to, just to get that ticket back. And when he told Sunny what had happened, the musician was already raring to engage in breaking-and-entering himself. After all, he didn’t want to sit alone at Tom's show.

But Noelle promised them she would get the ticket herself, and for the sake of not just their reputations but their sanity, they all collectively agreed she was their best bet.

The next day, Noelle found Daniel in the cafeteria, hunched over his lunch tray, deep in conversation with his hip-hop friends. A couple of them spotted her approaching and immediately redirected Daniel's attention. That sly, unabashed smirk spread across his face.

"Noelle!" he greeted her heartily, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He scooted back to make space for her, as if she would even consider sitting down next to him.

Noelle refrained from rolling her eyes, "I don't have a lot of time so lemme' be direct. You stole Tom's ticket that he was going to give to me. I want it back," She was hardly ever so candid, but she was tired of entertaining delusions and feeding egos. She just wanted her ticket.

Daniel played dumb, just as she expected him to, "I -- I have no idea what you're talking about," he chuckled.

"Right, like you had no idea as to how Stanis' car was suddenly covered in silly string?" she scoffed back. 

"Hey -- he had it coming!" one of his friends piped in, "The guy called us radical hooligans!"

"And silly-stringing his car wasn't a touch radical?" she replied.

"Noelle," Daniel interrupted, staring her directly in the eye, "I didn't take Tom's ticket. But I'd be more than happy to help him find it! Oughtta' teach him to pay more attention next time," with a sardonic simper, he took his fork and went back in for his mashed potatoes.

Noelle was annoyed now, could feel that twisting disdain in her chest as she watched him eat. She didn't want to lose her cool in front of everybody, though her patience was waining thin.

"Listen, I don't know what Tom did to deserve your bullying, but cut it out. He's done nothing to you. He's just trying his best around here like the rest of us," she told him, her voice steady but tinged with frustration.

Daniel shrugged, an infuriatingly casual gesture. "Maybe I'm just upset with you?"

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Because you never called me back after our date," he replied simply.

Her irritation turned to agitation and pure befuddlement. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, nails digging crescents into her palms.

She took a deep, calming breath before she spoke, "We went on one date and it didn't work out. I explained that to you several times," she pointed out. "I'm sorry if you're still butt-hurt over it, but you're acting like a child,"

Daniel chuckled, a dark sound that grated on her nerves, "You wanna talk about acting like a child? If Tom's so upset, why doesn't he come and talk to me? Or maybe he's just scared?"

He went back in for another bite of his lunch, but Noelle's fingers hooked over the rim of his tray and she dragged it away from him. The sudden move startled him, his eyes widening.

"Tom's not here because he has to prepare for his show, which is infinitely more important than whatever game you're playing. He's my friend, and he's shown me more consideration in the past eight months than you have in two years. So, if you want to go around being upset at me, that's fine. I'll sleep like a baby regardless. But don't punish Tom because you're jealous of him," She couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth, but by God, did it feel good to get that off her chest.

Daniel stared at her, his laid-back and casual demeanor suddenly shifting into something more hostile. His table-mates watched with intrigue, as did some of the surrounding tables.

"You actually think I'm jealous of him?" Daniel scoffed, "He's a wanna-be actor in an over-saturated city with hardly any jobs coming his way. I bet within six months of graduating, he'll hop back across the pond to work at ye ol' local pub,"

Noelle laughed pitifully. "You would love to think that, I bet. But he's already got more opportunity and ambition in his little finger than you have in your whole body!"

"Oh my God!" Daniel suddenly gaped, his expression one of exaggerated shock. "You actually like that little dweeb!"

"Maybe I do. So what?" she shrugged back. "If you were really my friend, you'd be happy for me," she could see the wires in his brain crossing, embarrassment settling within him, "So, about that ticket?"

The cafeteria seemed to hold its breath. Noelle's eyes burned with defiance, her stance unwavering. Daniel's sneer faltered, just a little.

"You want your ticket back so badly?" he finally spat, his tone venomous, "Fine. You come to my dorm tonight, and maybe I'll consider giving it back,"

Noelle laughed out at his audacity, but she held her ground, her voice icy, "Sure, and I should show up alone and in my prettiest underwear, right? How about we do this: you give me back that ticket by four o'clock today, or that rumour about you doping for your performance review won't be just a rumour anymore," 

Daniel glared at her, but she saw the flicker of fear in his eyes. Served him right for divulging so much on that first date. She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him to simmer in the consequences of his actions. It wasn't a definite promise, but Noelle had a good feeling that Daniel would see things her way before four o'clock rolled around.

"The Seagull" was a classic play that delved into the complexities of human emotion, unfulfilled dreams, and the search for meaning in life. It wasn’t too complex for first-year students, but it was still a welcome challenge for actors eager to show off their newly honed skills.

Tom had landed the part of Trigorin, a successful yet burdened playwright. He wore a pair of weak spectacles that sat precariously on the bridge of his nose, and a thin, dull suit that, despite its weightlessness, managed to be uncomfortably hot during rehearsals. His professor, Charles, continued to sit before the stage as they ran scene after scene, making tweaks to each person's performance or the placement of other props.

Tom tried to focus on his lines, but his mind kept drifting back to Noelle. The thrill of her agreeing to go on a date with him was quickly overshadowed by the nagging worry about the ticket. What if Daniel wouldn't give it back? What if he threw it away out of spite? The thought made his stomach churn. If Noelle couldn't see the play, all his efforts would feel incomplete.

"Tom, more conviction in that line," Charles called out, snapping Tom back to the present. He nodded, trying to push his worries aside and channel Trigorin’s complex emotions. But the pressure from Charles, combined with his own performance anxiety, was becoming overwhelming. He wanted to be perfect for this role, to prove to himself and Noelle that he was worthy of her admiration.

The weight of his spectacles seemed to grow heavier, his suit more stifling with each passing moment. The lines blurred as his mind raced. He could picture Daniel's smug smirk as he threw the ticket away, tore it up into bits, or kept it in his sock drawer as some sort of sick trophy, all the while gaslighting Noelle into thinking otherwise. The idea of her not being there to see him perform gnawed at him.

Get it together, man!

He replayed their conversation in his mind. Noelle had been so confident, so determined. "I'm going to see your play. Even if I have to break in through the back, I'm going to see that play," she had told him defiantly, her eyes full of conviction. "That's how much you matter to me,"

Those words had meant everything to Tom, but now they added a layer of pressure he hadn't anticipated. He wanted to live up to her belief in him, to be the actor she thought he could be. But with each critique from Charles and every second his mind wandered to Daniel and the ticket, his confidence wavered.

"Tom, focus," Charles’s voice broke through again, more insistent this time. Tom took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had to get through this rehearsal, had to nail this performance. For Noelle, for himself. But the doubts lingered, a constant, unwelcome companion.

As he stepped back onto the stage, he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was balancing on a knife's edge. The play, the date, his burgeoning feelings for Noelle—all of it. And for the first time, he wondered if he could truly handle it all.

"Okay everyone!" Charles called as the scene ended, "Let's take five, have some water, and regroup,"

The actors dispersed across the stage, sinking into their own conversations or simply collapsing into corners out of sheer exhaustion. They'd been running rehearsals for hours, and there was no end in sight until later in the evening. Tom was torn between wanting to go home for dinner and his determination to conquer his part.

"Tom," Jordan plopped down next to him, his own suit looking a bit more wrinkled and his scruffy fake mustache slightly askew, "What's up with you today? You're flubbing harder than Halle Berry in Catwoman!"

"Yeah, I know," Tom sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I didn't get much sleep last night,"

Jordan raised an eyebrow, "What the hell were you doing?"

"I was talking with Sunny,"

"About what? Don't tell me he kept you up with another fiddler-fest, again,"

"No," Tom shook his head, "We were talking about Noelle,"

"Your ballerina crush?" Jordan cocked his head, earning a bemused side-eye from Tom, "Hey, you haven't exactly been subtle about it. Every time she walks by you get the Care Bear eyes,"

"I don't --" but who was he trying to kid, he may as well have been honest with him, "Alright, maybe I do,"

"Hah!" Jordan grinned, "So, what's the deal?"

"I asked her out last night," Tom watched as his smile instantly morphed into shock, his eyebrows creased low.

"Oh man, don't tell me she said no," he awed, "No wonder you couldn't sleep,"

Tom wasn't sure whether or not he was joking, Jordan had such a lax way about him that was sometimes so infuriating.

"No! I mean -- she said yes!" he nearly exclaimed, trailing off in the end as to not garner attention from his classmates.

Jordan's face immediately lifted into another cheeky smile, "Oh, my man!" he smacked Tom's shoulder triumphantly, earning a shy little grin from his friend. His expression fell again, however, "Wait -- so what's the problem? You're too damn happy to focus?"

Tom sighed heavily, "I'm just a bit annoyed,"

"Why?"

"Because that dipshit hip hop dancer nicked her ticket for the show, and if he doesn't give it back she can't get in," he huffed.

"Which dipshit? You gotta' be specific,"

"Daniel,"

"Oh, that fucking guy?" Jordan scoffed, shaking his head, "Fuck that guy,"

"Yeah," Tom couldn't agree more, "And even if she does come I'm worried if I'm gonna' choke up there, and then Charles is gonna be upset and you guys are gonna be upset --"

"Hey, cut it out!" Jordan smacked his arm again, not so playfully this time, "One of the prettiest girls on campus just said yes to a date with you. For the life of me, I can't understand why, but she obviously likes you enough to take the chance. Okay, so worst case scenario she can't come and see the play tomorrow, or worse worst case you flub a line; you think that's gonna' change how she feels about you?" he scoffed a chuckle, "I mean, you already did plies and jetés in front of her. You can't look any more ridiculous than that,"

Tom simpered, remembering all too fondly how he tried to keep up with the ballet class. How even when he felt stupid, Noelle stopped and helped him with no judgment or teasing. She was as sweet as she'd always been, and for that, he wanted to prove to her just what a good choice she made.

"You've got a point, there," he admitted.

"I know I do," Jordan nodded, "When's your date?"

"After the show,"

"Where are you taking her?"

"Bowling," he turned to him with a worried glance, "Is that too cheesy? I mean -- she said we'd get a discount because of her job but --"

Jordan cut him off, "Are you good at bowling?"

"I'm good enough," he shrugged.

"Is she good at bowling?"

"I assume, she works for the alley,"

"Then make it interesting for her," he said, "You can launch a little friendly competition, and loser has to buy chicken wings. If she's not good, you can take the opportunity and teach her. You know -- slip one hand around her waist, the other under her arm, let the ball go... chicks dig that romantic crap,"

Tom began to laugh, the tension beginning to ease out of his chest, "I'll consider it," he nodded.

"Good. And don't let that little looser get to you," he continued, "The guy wears his pants so low he may as well walk around with just his briefs on. And hey -- what does it say that Noelle agreed to a date with you and not him?"

"She didn't agree to date me," Tom pointed out, "She agreed to a date,"

"Well, whatever. Because word around here says that Daniel's still pretty butt-hurt over her rejection,"

Tom couldn't deny he felt a little petty satisfaction in that, "Good,"

"Be honest with me, when was the last time you were on a date?" Jordan asked.

Tom shrugged back, "Back in high school,"

"And how old are you, now?"

"Twenty-two,"

"Sweet Jesus," Jordan shook his head, "We gotta' workshop this before tomorrow,"

"Workshop what?" Tom asked, glancing down at his appearance. Sure, the costume wasn't exactly the sexiest thing he could wear, but he had other clothes! He had... well... well, he wasn't too sure what he should wear for the date.

"The whole thing!" Jordan gestured to his whole appearance, "After the show, Trigorin gets replaced with Tom. I know you're shy and sensitive, and the girls love that shit, but you also wanna' be confident! And that comes in your appearance!"

"So, what do we do? Play Project Runway after rehearsal?" Tom asked.

Before he could respond, Charles suddenly shouted for his students, "Alright everyone! Let's take it from the top of act two!"

The boys got up and headed back for the stage, however, Tom couldn't help but notice a keen, coy smile spreading over Jordan's face.

"What're you thinking?" he asked.

"I have a friend who's attending the Fashion Institute. He works in the Garment District..." he slapped a hand on Tom's shoulder, "... And he just happens to owe me a favour,"

Despite not being part of the production anymore, Stanis still wanted Noelle to come see the rehearsal. Tonight was the last night to fix any last minute tweaks before the show. Just less than twenty-four hours and everyone's stress, everyone's anxiety and worry would be over. The dancers were beautiful, and Noelle was so proud of her friends' performances. The Dance of the Willis had to be one of her favourite variations, all of the girls were in perfect sync in their flowing white gowns, wreaths adorning their heads so perfectly while they moved without so much as a jitter. They were all so wonderful, and Noelle was sad she was going to miss it.

That being said, Noelle's own anxiety was continuing to simmer; four o'clock had come and gone and still Daniel was nowhere to be seen. Twenty-to-six and she gave up on the notion that maybe he would come around, be a decent person. As disappointed as she was, it was no matter in the end. She still had a date with Tom to look forward to... a date which she hadn't told Bianca about yet.

Bianca had calmed down when she came home last night, and despite how giddy and excited Noelle was to just scream in her face, she held back. What Bianca had said struck poorly with her, and to save herself any more of a headache, she decided against telling her friend about her date. Just until after the show. If it went well then she'd have nothing to fret over, if it didn't then who was to say Noelle even had to tell Bianca about it?

The moment the solemn music faded out, Stanis began to shout, "Tessa! What am I going to say to you?" Noelle had to wince as he was sitting right next to her.

Tessa, a lithe redhead in the middle row, called out sheepishly, "I was off on my counting," she admitted.

"Yes," Stanis nodded, "For any other class, I forgive. You do that tomorrow? I cut your toe pads next year!" and he sat down again. The ballerinas dispersed from the stage to make way for the next act.

Noelle cocked a brow at him, "You wouldn't actually that inflict on her, would you?" she asked.

"Nah," Stanis shook his head, "You gotta' keep them on their toes somehow. No pun intended," he replied with a sly grin.

Noelle simpered under her breath and settled back in her chair, only for her to fidget when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She whipped it out hurriedly, hoping it was Daniel having finally relented. But no, it was just her uncle confirming the time for their train tonight.

Stanis snuck a glance at her phone, "Hot date?" he asked teasingly.

Noelle paused for a moment, debating whether or not she should tell him. She ultimately decided against it, "Uh -- not quite. Just my family," she replied.

"Oh. Are they coming tomorrow?" his tone switched from joking to genuine curiosity.

"Yep. I told them not to bother, but apparently they can't get the money back because cancellation wasn't made in time so... they're gonna' come out anyway. I'll probably go with them back to Maine,"

"Ah," he nodded, "Well, I'm sure they'll be very happy to see you, anyway,"

Noelle grinned, remembering how frantic Franca had been when she finally got her on the phone. Noelle had decided to keep the surgery a secret from her family until it was absolutely necessary, not wanting to worry them over nothing. Despite their initial upset and their fervent desire to come and take care of her, Noelle had assured them that it wasn’t necessary. They wouldn’t have anywhere to stay, train ticket prices were astronomical, and they already had plans to visit at the end of the year. It was better for their wallets and her sanity if they just stayed in Maine until then.

"Yeah," she nodded as she fired back a text. They'd be arriving at their hotel tonight and would meet her for breakfast tomorrow.

Stanis pressed on, even as the next variation began, "And, your boyfriend?" he asked.

Noelle glanced at him curiously, "... I don't have a boyfriend, Stanis," she reminded him.

The older gent chuckled in dismay, "You could've fooled me. You and... jak on ma na imię? Oh! Tom!" he raised a pointed finger, "You two seemed quite cozy a month ago,"

She could feel her cheeks go red, the impending burn of a stretching smile threatening to take over, "Oh. He... he can't make it," she admitted.

Stanis' face morphed into... shock? Dismay? She couldn't really tell, "Why? What's the matter with him?"

"Well, he has his final play tomorrow evening," she replied.

"Oh," he nodded promptly, "Fair enough. What play is it?"

"The Seagull,"

"Ah, yes. By the great Anton Chekhov. Are you going to see it?" he asked.

"I don't know, I don't have a ticket," she replied simply, "And I mean -- I have to be here to support Bianca and the others,"

Stanis scoffed incredulously. "Support? Support for what?" he asked. "You know this ballet like the back of your hand. Do I wish you were my Giselle? Absolutely. But we all adapt, just as your friends are going to adapt," he assured her. "Bianca will be fine. You don't need to be sitting backstage for… for what? They already know how much you support them! You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t!"

Noelle glanced at the stage, watching Bianca glide through the pas de deux in Act Two. She was so beautiful, so ethereal, not a strand of blonde hair visible under her wig. She was perfect, just as perfect as Noelle, if not more.

This was a story they had studied together, one they had trained so hard for. But this was only their second year in college. There would be so many more performances, so many more solo roles and starring opportunities. So many more chances to support one another. Surely, Bianca would hardly be focused on Noelle if she didn't attend the show.

There was still just one problem.

"I don't have a ticket, Stanis," she reminded him, "I can't go see the play, anyhow,"

"And why don't you have a ticket?" he asked.

Noelle took a deep breath and launched into the story. She told Stanis about Daniel stealing from Tom, about his jealousy, and how she had confronted him earlier today. She described the chaos and confusion, and how in the midst of it all, Tom had blurted out that he wanted to take her out (not in the mob way). She assured Stanis that she wouldn’t be too upset if she missed the play, but she would still like to go.

Stanis listened quietly, his face thoughtful as he absorbed every detail of his student's dismayed tale. When she finished, he gave her a small, excited smile. But there was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, too. He had dealt with the cocky dancer himself a few times, enough to make him not want Daniel to get his way.

"What a little bastard," he muttered at the end, "... What's the professor's name? Who's running Tom's play?"

"Charles Endahl," she replied.

A smile broke out over the older man's face, "Ah yes, Charles. He's a funny little man, but I like him," he then stood up and started for the aisle, much to Noelle's confusion.

"Where are you going?" she called after him.

"Keep an eye on the dancers!" he simply instructed her, "I have to make a phone call!"

Without question, Noelle settled back into her seat and continued to watch the ballet. Yet, a gnawing feeling lingered in her gut. As she watched the performance, giddiness and excitement started to bubble up inside her. Maybe, just maybe, she might get to see Tom's show after all.

Tom stood in front of the mirror, trying not to let his nerves show. The dim lighting of the boutique made his reflection seem almost ghostly. He glanced over at Jordan, who was lounging on a velvet couch, looking entirely too comfortable in the upscale thrift store. Sunny was flipping through a rack of shirts, muttering to himself about fabric quality and color matching.

Nicko, Jordan’s friend, was a sharp, yet colourfully dressed character with a bleached buzz cut and a mural tattoos littering his arms. He circled Tom like a predator evaluating its prey, his fingers were perched under his chin in thought.

"What does this girl do?" he asked.

"She's a classmate," Tom replied.

Jordan scoffed from the couch, "She's a friggin' ballerina. Picture Barbie and the Twelve Dancing Princesses type of girl," he said.

Sunny cocked a brow, "I wouldn't necessarily go that far, but she is quite... coquette," he added as he continued to browse, "Soft pinks and bows and whatnot,"

"She wears mismatched-coloured shoe laces," Tom piped in.

Nicko nodded, glancing back at Tom, "I see. You need something that says confident but approachable. Soft, but also classy -- the man who's fun, but also in charge,” he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"I... I don't know about that," Tom muttered sheepishly.

“Oh, come on, Tom," Nicko shook his head, "You’re going on a date, think of it just like an audition! You need to nail the part! And that starts with the right outfit!”

Tom nodded, though he wasn’t sure he could tell draw similarities right now. He’d been rehearsing scenes for days, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

“Try this one,” Nicko said, handing Tom a navy blue button-down, “And these pants. Trust me,”

Tom took the clothes and disappeared into the changing room. As he changed, he could hear Jordan’s easy banter with Nicko, something about how uptight and poignant their professor was. It was a comforting background noise, a reminder that he wasn’t alone in this.

When he stepped out in front of the mirror again, the transformation was subtle but significant. The navy shirt brought out the color in his eyes, and the fit of the pants was just right. Jordan gave a low whistle of approval, “Looking sharp, man. Noelle’s gonna be impressed,”

"See? He's classy on a dime!" Nicko grinned, "Move the hell over Theo James! Tom Blyth is in town!"

Sunny nodded in agreement, holding up a pair of brand-less white sneakers, “These will complete the look. Casual, but clean,”

"How do you feel, Tom?"

Tom took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. He wanted everything to be perfect, wanted Noelle to see him as more than just a friendly neighbour or a movie buddy. He wanted her to see him as someone worth her time.

"I feel pretty good!" he admitted, no wear or fluster in his response.

Nicko took a bow, "And I am a fairy godmother!" he then turned to Sunny, "Give him the shoes! Let's see! The bottom is just as important as the top!"

As he was tying the shoes, Tom's phone buzzed beside him. He pulled it out and saw a message from Noelle. His heart skipped a beat as he read it.

I GOT MY TICKET!!

[dukeofankh]

Hey, straight up, if you were one of the people saying "man, 4B sounds so cool, we just need to make sure radfems don't get their hands on it", please for the love of Christ read an actual book about what radical feminism is instead of learning by osmosis from social media because that was just textbook lesbian separatism a la Sheila Jeffreys' "Political Lesbianism: The Case Against Heterosexuality". That wasn't a bug or an accident. That's why you even heard about it in the first place. From Radfems. The people telling you that it was cool and that we need to protect it from Radfems? Like, they are either more ignorant about feminist history than me, a 32 year old broadly cisgender white guy, or they were... Radfems! Disguising their ideas to get them past your defenses, because you can't defend against something if you have no fucking clue what it is and you dont do the work of learning. Transphobia is a feature of many forms of radical feminism, but the two aren't synonymous, even if they're both shitty. You can't just check to see if they drop the t-slur and if they don't it's intersectional feminism baybee. It doesn't work like that.

This isn't saying 4B is contiguous with or subordinate to western radical feminism. It's saying that the only reason you've heard about it is because of western radical feminism.

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

Im not a minor, 18, but you mentioned in the post you made abt nonabusive parenting "time-outs" and I had a question. When I was younger, I was frequently put in time-outs but they actually kinda traumatized me (that's the word my therapist uses) and I can't stay in rooms with closed doors and remembering it makes me feel ill and spending such long periods by myself actually did me a lot more harm than good in the long run, I think. are time outs actually a proven method of working with your child and shit? and im like, just an outlier, or is that just something you suggested but don't know a lot abt?

I think how it's done def makes a huge difference.

Like a time out that's punitive, esp one where you're ignored or taught to feel ashamed or if it lasts a long time, is going to have a radically different impact on kids than like, a gentle adult saying to a small child "hey honey you seem overwhelmed. let's take a break from playing until you feel better"

and ideally like. starts out with an adult sitting with the kid and teaching them ways to handle/process/cope with that overwhelm until it becomes a tool the kid can use on their own.

Also ideally even if the kid is ok taking the break on their own it's good for the adult to talk to them about what happened after the kid's had a few mins to process. Whether that conversation is unpacking why they felt the need to bite and what they can do different next time, or what happened that made them feel overwhelmed/bad, or whatever else.

And like it shouldn't be a long time!! When it's a teaching tool the goal is mainly to get the kid back to equilibrium and putting their rational brain back in the driver's seat so they're making choices and not just reacting to surges of feelings.

And maybe I should've elaborated more in that post cuz you're right, time outs CAN be traumatic esp if done the first way!! And it sounds like yours were very long in duration too which is NOT what I was trying to promote at all!!

I don't have like studies on hand about this, just decades of childcare experience and having a bunch of trained preschool teachers I'm close to, but gently & kindly interrupting a situation that's going badly and getting the kids to take a break has ime been good for the kids.

When I was a kid and went from an abusive household to one where we took breaks when we felt overwhelmed and reconvened when it was easier to share our feelings kindly, it was like a huge revelation to me.

But like, it has to be an intentional teaching tool aimed at giving the kid more ability to cope, not just punitive revenge. And if the kid is SUFFERING because of it, it's not going right. The idea is to make the kid feel better, not worse!!

I'm really sorry you experienced what you did, and I can completely understand why you'd be leery of the idea of time outs after that.

[beevean]

That was one of my criticisms for Castlevania Season 2, when I watched it back in 2018: so much screen time spent on Dracula moping and waiting for release from his pain. I think such a miserable position for the FINAL BOSS should've been preserved for an endgame reveal, instead of explicitly displayed for hours of animation frames. But, if you could adjust his arc, where would you do it?

Alright, so.

My unshakeable idea is that the CoD prequels tell a perfectly coherent story, and a good writer could have easily intertwined the hero side of Trevor and the gang approaching Dracula's castle and bonding in the meantime (bonding, not Alucard participating in the Cunt Olympics), with the villain side showcasing Dracula destroying villages and losing himself in his fury and Hector being so disgusted by the senseless violence that he leaves, creating a chain of events where Isaac has to follow him to kill him/retreive him, therefore leaving Dracula unprotected against the legendary Belmont, his son, and a terrifying witch. (in this version there's not even Death, so Dracula really was left without his best people)

What kills N!Dracula in S2 is that he has zero drive. The villain plot hinges exactly on this point. He's patiently waiting for everyone to die, but he's not supervising the war that he has started, leaving room for discord, discontent, doubts, and giving this random regional ruler the chance to swoop in and seize control by simply telling Hector "hey cutie follow me 😘".

The idea that the other vampires disagree with Dracula makes sense. He is leading them to a slow, painful death by starving. I do think Dracula should have grown more paranoid and eager to mantain control, though: N!Dracula strikes me as being disrespected and not even worthy of respect. Again, I remind you of the fact that Carmilla made fun of him and Lisa in front of everyone, and Dracula let her go without so much as a slap on the wrist. No fucking way this should fly. This is not a villain I can take seriously. I want this bastard back:

"this bitch believes he can have an opinion. yeet"

Like. Have him being a menace to everyone in the court. A hated menace, maybe, but for fuck's sake give him back some charisma! None of that "my fwiends don't wike me anymowe. awe you stiww my fwiend, Isaac-kun? 🥺"

I hate the inclusion of Carmilla, and while I can think about how to fix her by making her less of a walking stereotype, her role in the story is to make Dracula and his lackeys look profoundly stupid: Hector for easily going along with her plans (her protests sound plausible at first, but then she talks about unseating Dracula out in the open??? and then Hector, the supposed General, has the balls to be all surprisedpikachu.jpg when he has to betray Dracula????), and Dracula and Isaac for giving in to her whims simply to shut her up, while fully knowing that she doesn't have good intentions. She's not necessary to this portion of the story. Hector in the show already starts out as not liking the slaughter of innocents despite him being okay with culling, and in this version he was outright lied to by Dracula. He should have, by all means, realized by himself that he was deceived, that no one in that joint takes him seriously, and defected out of personal hurt, before learning something about human empathy. Having an underling witness the full extent of Dracula's cruelty and stubborness makes him look better than whatever this is:

And yes. Witness. Show. I swear this show hates to show things. Dracula only effectively destroys a village on screen in the very first episode. That was cool! Why can't we have cool things here??

I don't care that Carmilla's removal would radically change Hector's plotline in S3 and 4. Considering what happens to him, it's for the best. Because Carmilla is completely irrelevant for anyone else: her plans barely have the chance to step out of her castle before getting squashed, and the Trephacard gang never learns about her. Yeah I know Isaac has his Belmont moment when he kills her, but you know. His desire for revenge should be about Hector anyway :) They are supposed to have a whole story together, not him being the Jesus of the situation while Hector is some rapist's chew toy :) but hey, for that, my friend @chumpovodir already thought on how to fix that mess.

Anyway. Dracula in S2 should have at the very least engaged in more on-screen atrocities. His random flashback where he kills the merchants in an oddly sexual way doesn't count, because that was a way to say "oh look at him, he was so Evil before Lisa healed him with the Power of Love 🥺". No, I mean that in the present. Dracula is a petty, vile man who overreacts to genuine grief by spreading around his misery. He needs to be insane, but proactive.

Oh, and he should have turned into a monster >:\

I apologize if this answer doesn't fully satisfy you lmao. I tend to go into tangents lol, this show activates my braincells like little else