#almost no mean critical comments in general

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  5 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: a series of risky decisions gets you into more than one kind of trouble.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

The next few days were spent in the confines of your childhood home, your bed almost becoming your permanent address as you thought about that kiss. The kindness and how the words expressed resonated with you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.  But more than anything, how the kissing Father Sylus had made you feel - the tenderness of it all. But surely you were getting ahead of yourself and even found yourself a little disgusted with yourself over the whole encounter. 

But he had just been so close, too sweet, and his face was so beautiful, and all you wanted to do was press kisses all over him. 

But it’s wrong, isn’t it? 

Something inside you rebelled against the idea for obvious reasons. Any resolve you had would disintegrate when you decided to act or speak on it. 

But then, one evening, Rafayel called. You barely answered in time because part of you was hoping it would be someone else.

“Hey babe, just wanted to check up and see how you’re doing. Haven’t heard from you.” 

You blinked, frozen for a moment as you twisted into a sitting position on your bed. “Fine. What’s up?” 

He chuckled, and you weren’t sure if he was annoyed. You felt slightly upset at yourself for not reaching out when you could have. A normal rekindled friendship typically involves a friend being there for the other, especially after what he revealed to you. But before you could follow up with an apology, he spoke again.

“Nothing in particular. I wondered if you wanted to get some of the old gang together and go up into the woods like we used to.” 

You knew the place he was walking about, the old lumber yard out in the middle of the woods where the kids from town used to gather. It had been a favorite spot to hang out, build bonfires, other illegal shit teenagers liked to do when they wanted to get away from their parents. 

“What do you mean ‘the gang?’” You asked. 

“Well, uh, it’s just gonna be you and me. When I tried to call anyone else from school, they either laughed at me for being back here or didn’t answer.” You could hear his nervous laugh when his words cut off. “Still a small town, and everyone is the same.” 

You couldn’t resist, though. Even if you were a bit too old for that behavior. Reliving your past was one of the reasons you returned home in the first place. “I have nothing better to do, so yeah. Sounds great.” You paused, wondering if you had said the right thing, hoping that Rafayel understood what you meant. “Sorry, I’ve been…not myself lately. Lot’s on my mind.” You rubbed the back of your knee with your fingers before standing, keeping the phone to your ear as you crossed the room to where your suitcase lay open on a chair. 

“I get it.” He responded with a laugh, light and airy in a way that made you smile. “Life is pretty shitty, especially for people like us who - well, you know.” There was a hint of apology in his tone as you heard him open and close a door. “This is the perfect opportunity for me to listen to you now.” 

“I kissed the priest.” 

“Fucking, what? The hot one?” 

You sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward a bit, a bit shaken now with your admission. Even though you had spoken it out loud, you still felt as if you couldn’t totally come to grips with the situation. 

“Well, yeah. He’s the only one.”  You said, curling your hand around the hem of the comforter. “And I’m also in love with a married man. I’m losing it. This is what happens to people who don’t peak in high school or something!” 

Rafayel said nothing, obviously processing. Then he began to chuckle, which turned into a laugh. Then, he let out the most ridiculous roar of laughter. 

“Wow,” he managed to gasp out after a bit, only to laugh again. You could imagine how his shoulders probably shuddered as they shook and the grin plastered on his face. “Okay, once Talia goes to bed, I’ll grab her car and pick you up. And then you’re explaining this whole damn story to me. Got it?” 

“Got it.” 

“I can’t even comprehend this,” Rafayel breathed after you recounted your tale of how you ended up back home, finishing off with the way Father Sylus had kissed you and the way your panic overtook you. He shook his head, hands clenching and unclenching, brow knitted as he looked at you. 

The two of you sat in Talia's car, parked outside the old lumber yard in the woods. The empty dirt parking lot was bathed in the moon's light peeking through the clouds. The bowl on the dash between you both served as a reminder that some things hadn’t changed and that this was the first place you had smoked weed. 

Rafayel picked it up, fingers curling around the glass as he brought it to his lips. The flick of the lighter illuminated his face in the dark car, shadows dancing across his cheekbones as he inhaled deeply. You couldn’t blame him for his reaction. 

When he passed it to you, you mirrored his actions, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the earthy taste coating your tongue. You held it in briefly before exhaling slowly, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

“And Xavier asked me out.” You said. 

Your friend’s face contorted in disbelief before he let out a short burst of laughter. “You’re joking, right?” 

“Nope.” You giggled and looked out towards the old building before you, wondering how he could think you were making any of this up. 

“Damn, you have three guys chasing after you, begging for scraps. I bet the doctor has loads of money.” Rafayel clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “This is every girl’s dream! I don’t understand what the problem is.” 

And as if it suddenly hit him all at once, he started to laugh, and the laugh turned out to be contagious. You both soon ended up in a fit of giggles inside the growing colder car. 

“I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ask him to leave his wife?” You huffed. 

“Relax! Think about it. People get divorced all the time.” The high was definitely setting in as Rafayel rested his head on the back of the seat. “And if he’s as hopelessly infatuated with you as you said, he might do it anyway.” 

“Rafayel! That’s horrible.” 

He leaned in and playfully nudged your shoulder, saying, “I can’t help but be honest with you. Who would I be if I wasn’t?” He caught the look on your face and rolled his eyes, flicking the lighter absentmindedly. “Or, you know, you could just call him up and give him a piece of your mind. Maybe that will push him right in the direction of Silver Springs.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered, feeling the familiar laziness creeping into your body. You barely resisted the urge to snort at his suggestion. “The Fleetwood Mac song?” 

“Yeah, Stevie cursed him, you know. Lindsey. In ‘97. Hexed him right on stage in front of everyone. So if I were you, I would call him up and tell him what direction he can shove his thumb up his own ass.” 

You laughed again, shaking your head at Rafayel’s ridiculous suggestion. The pot was doing its job, making everything seem way funnier than it should be. 

“I don’t know, man,” you sighed, sinking further into the seat. “Even if Zayne does leave his wife for me, which would be so wrong, what about Father Sylus? I mean, I kissed a priest, for Christ’s sake!” 

Rafayel took another long drag from the bowl before setting it between you in the cupholder, smoke once again billowing in the car as he responded. “Hey, forbidden love is the hottest kind. And I figure if I’m going to get any entertainment out of this town, it’s gonna be from you at this point. So just call the fucking doctor while I’m still high.” With that, he shoved your shoulder, and you turned and shoved him right back. 

You grumbled as you reached for your phone, unlocking it as the smoke settled around you. You scrolled through your contacts until your thumb was right over the number. It was so tempting, especially with the encouragement of the young man beside you - but you stayed still. 

You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you. 

“Fuck it.” You breathed deeply, heart hammering, and hit the phone symbol. As soon as you heard the first ring, you nearly jumped. 

Why do I do this? A mantra in your mind, like a worm in your skull, beating against the insides repeatedly with a tiny hammer. 

You waited, putting the phone on speaker so the idiot beside you could hear. After a few long rings, you were about to hang up when there was a click. An unfamiliar voice picked up instead of the one you were used to, and the wave of anxiety almost made you dizzy.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, not as straightforward or bubbly as you had imagined she would sound.

Silent, you swallowed thickly, and along with the fear, you felt the ache settle in once again. The sharp guilt began coiling around you. You looked toward Rafayel, who suddenly looked just as panicked as you. He quickly grabbed your phone, raising an index finger to his lips and giving you a stern look. 

“Hi! Uh, I’m calling about your car's extended warranty!” Rafayel quickly stated, cutting off whatever the woman was about to say next. Then, he turned and threw your phone out of the open window. 

The two of you stared at each other blankly. Then, all the adrenaline hit you at once, and the numb haze obliterated. 

“Oh my God, fuck!” You managed to say, trying and failing to fight the delirious laughter that began wrapping through your body. You barely noticed your vision clouded with tears, and your next laugh came out mixed with a sob. “That was his - and you just - HA! You threw my phone out the window!” 

“Listen, Y/N, I don’t think that was a good -” 

“FUCK.” You kicked the dashboard with your foot, the glove compartment popping open and spilling its contents onto the car's floor. “How could you throw my phone out the window like that?” you cried, turning to glare at Rafayel through your tears. 

He held up his hands defensively. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret later. That was his wife on the phone, not him! What were you going to say to her anyway?” 

“I don’t know!” you wailed, burying your face in your hands. The high rapidly dissipated, ruined, and replaced by a growing despair. “I’m a horrible person. What am I doing with my life?” 

Rafayel sighed and scooted closer, draping an arm lazily around your shaking shoulders. “Hey, you’re not a horrible person. Do you want a Xanax?”

“No, I don’t want Xanax! Go get my phone!”

“Okay, okay! Just chill out.” Rafayel moved to open the car door but paused, a muttered curse leaving his mouth before he hurriedly attempted to clean up the drug paraphernalia scattered on the console. Then he turned just in time to have a flashlight shone in his face. In all of your agitation, it appeared that neither of you had noticed the other vehicle that had pulled up. 

“Hi, Tara.” Rafeyel greeted the deputy at the window with a thinly veiled hint of irritation as he shielded his eyes with the back of one hand. “Good to see you.” 

Tara looked at him, and then her eyes landed on you and widened slightly, her mouth parting as she put the two of you together. “Really? You’re back home?” 

Tara was only a couple years younger than you, and there was no surprise that this was her chosen profession. You remembered how she used to hang around all the time in high school, staying behind and hoping you’d ask her to hang out to go to a party. Even back then, it was as if you couldn’t shake her, the girl pursuing anything and getting into anything she could think of. 

“So, uh.” Tara leaned over and peeked into the car, leaning her free hand on the window. Perfectly manicured nails and the same cherry red lipstick; her features and skin soft. “What are you guys doing?” 

You started to laugh again, unable to resist the odd delight rippling through you. Rafayel tensed, and his lips pressed together as he looked at you in warning. 

“Nothing, officer.” You answered with a grin. “Don’t you have more important things to do? What’s all we ever did when we came up here?” 

Rafayel slapped a hand to his forehead. Tara scoffed and looked around nervously, as if confused as to how you reached the admission you realized shouldn’t have slipped out of your mouth so easily. Her sudden lack of boldness reminded you of the faux courage she often displayed when she was younger, which was why you were never that close with her. 

As long as you’ve known Talia, she was the type to call the priest whenever something happened. Even though you partially expected it, you were still on edge seeing Father Sylus walking into the tiny police station with her. 

You were sitting on a bench with Rafayel, feeling angry and frustrated, and your high completely came down when the two of them walked in. Your head snapped up at the sight of the tall man next to Talia, looking composed and put together while she looked like she had just taken a sleeping pill. It truly was no surprise to see Talia rushing in to rescue Rafayel from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into. 

“Rafayel.” Talia’s small, five-foot frame was in front of her nephew. “You…” She rubbed her temples and let out a groan. 

“Sorry, Talia.” He held up his hands, which were cuffed together, a bit of a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he thought this was the most amusing thing that could possibly happen to him. 

You averted your gaze again, the memory of the kiss burning in your mind, and you couldn’t bear to look up. A fresh wave of shame washed over you. Talia’s exasperated voice faded into the background as your heart pounded. 

“Come on, let’s get you two out of here,” Talia finally said with a sigh. She turned to Tara, who was seated at the desk nearby. “I’m assuming there won’t be any charges? They were just being stupid, right Tara?” 

Tara glanced between you and Rafayel, conflict flickering across her face. You could see the gears turning in her mind, weighing the social capital to be gained by letting this slide versus following protocol. After a tense beat, she sighed and waved a dismissive hand. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go fill out the paperwork.”

Talia nodded curtly and followed Tara out of the room, and an awkward silence descended, thick and lingering, although you couldn’t pinpoint the cause of it. You kept your gaze fixed on the scuffed linoleum, tracing patterns with your eyes. 

“Hey, Father,” Rafayel said, “What’d Talia say when she called you?” 

“She asked for a ride, said she would kill you, and needed someone to perform the last rites.” 

Rafayel let out a short laugh at Father Sylus’ dry response, but you remained silent, still unable to bring yourself to look at the priest. Your mind kept replaying that moment - the gentle press of his lips against yours. How could you face him now, after what transpired between you? What would you even say? 

“Right.” Rafayel hummed, “Suppose I should thank you then. Potentially saving my soul and all that.” He nudged you with his elbow, “Ain’t that right, bestie?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You mumbled, only lifting your head when Tara appeared in front of you to remove the handcuffs from your wrists. Talia moved before her nephew, jingling her car keys before dropping them into his hands. 

“Let’s get out of here before I change my mind, Rafayel,” She grumbled. He flashed her a cheeky grin but wisely kept his mouth shut this time. 

“I can take Y/N home.” Father Sylus nodded toward you once you stood and shook out your wrists. Nervously, your eyes flickered to Rafayel, who looked terrified for you for a brief second before mouthing the words, 'Touch his butt.'

A moment later, you found yourself outside the police station next to the priest who had consumed your thoughts since that ill-advised kiss. You shivered in the harsh autumn breeze that cut straight through the light jacket you wore. You risked a brief glance at Father Sylus. He stood without a jacket, radiating heat, and for a moment, you wanted to press against him to feel that warmth. 

You found your words. “I - I can get home on my own,” you said, a bit harsher than was necessary. “I’m an adult the last time I checked.” 

Father Sylus paused at the bottom of the steps and turned around. There wasn’t any tension or hesitation in his tone, just like the other night. He was just genuinely inquiring. “How are you feeling, Y/N?” 

Shivering slightly and wrapping your arms around yourself, you looked toward the man and offered a smile. Your voice had the faintest tremor as you tried to joke, “I’ve been better.” 

Father Sylus glanced at you from the corner of his eye as you fell into step beside him, releasing a little snort at your sarcasm, a gesture that, for some reason, sent a hot rush of awe through you. 

“That’s all right, Y/N.” He said with a sad smile. “We can talk about it later if you want. For now, the important thing is getting you home.” Reflexively, his hand came to rest on the small of your back as he steered you toward the parking lot.

Just the brief caress of his warm hand on your back made your thighs clench. It didn’t mean anything, you told yourself, but your stomach churned as the sweet electricity of his touch rushed through you. 

Stop it, you told yourself. He was just showing you where he had parked. Yet his lingering warmth was flooding your senses. Swallowing thickly, you pinched your brows together and hoped you didn’t actually upset him in any way. 

“Should I be worried?” he asked. 

“About what?” 

“The things you’re into.” 

Stopping, a hard lump formed in your throat, and the entire world fell into a hush. The nearly pitch black parking lot of the police station, the night chill, the beautiful priest that just - was he teasing you, now? 

“Again. I’m in my twenties. Weed,” you snapped, emphasizing the last word, “Isn’t a big deal.” 

His palm felt scorching through your jacket as he closed a hand around the top of your shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“Hey now,” He said, making your breath hitch as you stiffened slightly. “It was just a question.” 

You said nothing, simply sliding into the passenger seat of Father Sylus’s car.

A quiet settled between you two in the car, then. All you could do was look out the window at the dark neighborhood and overanalyze every word, every touch, trying to pinpoint exactly how you felt. But how could you even explain that the man beside you gave you the thrill of wanting to do something terrible? Because there had been a moment with him, something that broke the reality of the relationship the two of you had. It didn’t necessarily feel awful, more like an unspoken truth waiting to be expressed. 

You tried to control your emotions and thought process, registering that you were in front of your house now. Just as you were going to say goodnight and grab the door handle, you heard Father Sylus speak. 

“I owe you an apology for the other night.” The quiet murmur was easy to miss, but you did everything possible to hang onto the sound. A mix of breath. You looked back at him, trying to catch his eyes in the darkness only illuminated by the porch light from the distance. 

“I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” He continued, “I’d still like for us to talk.” 

As tempting as it was to open the car door and leave, the ache in your belly nearly overwhelmed you. A terrible, crushing sense of longing settled in. Knowing where the lines were drew a blank in your mind. Where the hell were you supposed to draw the line? Fuck, was this situation genuine, or just one of opportunity? 

“Can I ask an inappropriate question, Father?” You choked out, swallowing the lump of anxiety that wound its way around the base of your neck. You watched as he shut the car off.

“What is it?” He wasn't looking at you, but the hand still on the wheel tightened slightly. 

Inhaling deeply, your heart thumped at an aching speed as you murmured your question, your voice beginning to betray how much he affected you. “Do you kiss a lot of girls?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

Why the hell did you mean to bring that up? What good would knowing do, even? Right, of course, you would just go ahead and ruin the image of purity - what was the worst that could happen? 

“Well,” You continued, unable to stop yourself but choosing your words carefully, “You kissed me. So, do you kiss a lot of girls?” 

Father Sylus was quiet for a long, brutal moment. You felt sweat bead on your skin despite the car being cool. Clenching your fists and digging your nails into your palm, you try to brace yourself. You hadn’t intended to ask your question so outwardly , but what other way was there to put it? 

“Y/N, you’re trying to minimize our connection,” he said. He took a deep, steadying breath and then rubbed a hand over his brow. “And I can ignore it. I can try to pray for the strength to bear it.”

Then, he met your gaze directly. In the light from the porch, you could see how his crimson eyes tore into you, emotion suddenly exposed and bared. For the second time, he had allowed you to glimpse what was hiding under the careful mask he put on. 

You almost flinched as he touched your knee, his tone dropping. “But I won’t diminish it.” 

You found yourself falling, then, into those wounded eyes. You slid your hand forward and set it over his, the heat from the simple touch making you feel like you had touched an ember. 

Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned across the center console to kiss him, slow and sweet. 

Please don’t push me away.

For a moment, you feel his surprise. However, just before you pull away, he pulls you forward, one warm hand sliding up your back and the other threading through your hair gently, reverently.

You moan softly into his mouth, and his grip tightens slightly. He deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue into your mouth. You lose yourself in the feel of his lips on yours, his hands on your body.

The gentleness he handles you with stokes the fire within you, warming you from the inside and slowly turning into a fever. You long for him to hold you tightly, to show you he wanted you too - you need that affirmation. 

Then his lips grazed the shell of your ear, voice husky and warm. “You’re far too close for your own good.” 

What sort of torment was this? All these words hung in the air that you wanted to say, but none came to your mind except for - 

“Fuck me,” you rasped. Your face felt hot as the words spilled from your lips, driven by the intensity of your want. “Please, I -” 

He silenced you with his mouth, capturing your lips again. His kiss is no less intense and consuming but maintains a level of restraint that a part of you hoped was rapidly crumbling. Your hands move on their own accord, reaching for his belt. 

A hand on your wrist stops you before you can go any further, his skin like silk against the pounding pulse point of your wrist. It was a heavyweight, slowly making its way up to where your heart was beating wildly. 

He’s looking directly into your eyes when he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles gently. 

“No here, sweetheart.” His voice is feather-light as he speaks. “Not like this.” 

While he let go of your wrist, something unseen held you in place. But it was only momentarily before the horror of what you had tried to do crashed over you. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, I - what the fuck am I doing?” 

With the state you were in, it wouldn’t take much for the well of tears to come. Unable to look at him, you unlocked the car door and pushed it open, nearly tripping on your feet as you stumbled onto the pavement. 

You didn’t look back, fearing falling apart, and slammed the door shut. 

Rather than going through the front door, you circled the house and went up the back porch through the kitchen. Once inside, you walked past your dad in the living room, who was sleeping on the couch with the television blaring and a near-empty bottle of beer within arm’s reach. 

You went into the bathroom in the hallway, shut and locked the door, then slid down onto the cold tile. 

The rejection shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. No, this was different. Something deep inside, something raw and fiery, made the ache grow exponentially. It was the memory of the touch, the intoxicating mixture of scents. 

Anger clawed its way to the surface because you couldn’t even wrap your head around what you felt. How pathetic, how foolish, how humiliating. 

Clutching the sides of your head, you let out a scream, frustration causing your body to shake. 

You wanted so badly to disappear. 

Did God have a sense of humor or something? 

tag list: @celestialforce @readerxyourbabe

[jules-van-hering]

I survived my parents' visit

[i-cant-sing]

Mmmhhh thinking about Yandere Batfam reacting to a reader who runs a very popular blog where she absolutely bashes Batman and Robins- and the batfam takes your criticism very seriously. Maybe not at first, but then Damian (the easiest to tick) got pissed off when you wrote how "he's just a kid in a cheap Halloween costume" and when Damian gets pissed off, he whines. He whines and whines and whines until Dick and Bruce finally listen to him and do something about it. That's when they find out about the extensive threads about them, criticising meticulously each and every action of theirs, how they're causing more financial harm to Gotham and allowing themselves to be idolised and causing more people to comit crimes just so that they could have their 5 seconds of fame with Batman. And ofc theirs a whole page about the Batsignal.

I mean, Damian and Tim have already found out who runs the page (though they had a little bit of a hard time sniffing u out. You were good at covering your tracks). While Damian and Tim are busy going to "have a talk with you", Bruce is at home reading your entire blog about Batfam and realising how some of your points.... kinda makes sense. So, he buys the app where you write your blogs, then has Damian bring you over to the Wayne offices, where he explains he just wanted to meet the person running the blog that generates the most readers on the app. You, just a 23 year old student who's blogging as a side hustle.

You're obviously stunned because why are you meeting Bruce Wayne and also confused because again, why are you here exactly??? Bruce just says that he likes your insights and would like to know more, and he's happy to pay you by the hour you spend talking to him and also on the blog.

He's very much determined to make Batman and Robins be good in your mind, and not that he cares much about what people think about him, it doesn't hurt to have good PR for heroes, lest people should try revolting against Justice league and only end up hurting themselves. There's only so much he could do to calm his metahuman friends.

You're again- CONFUSED, but you like money. The only thing you tell him is that you get to write whatever you want, complete creative control and that you can write about anyone you wish. Ofc, it doesn't register to Bruce that you could possibly write against his family- against his name.

So in the beginning, things are going great. Reader continues making calculated judgements and comments about Batfam and how they could possibly improve themselves, the batfam takes note and tries to do most of the things. Then you'd write something that could almost be seen as praise for "changing their old ways" and they all feel a little bit proud. They don't realise it but some members of the batfam (like damian and Dick) start craving your approval of their actions.

Perhaps something happens, maybe you don't find it fun to write about the bats anymore, so you shift your mind towards a new topic-

The Wayne's.

You research a bit, finding it a little odd at Bruve Wayne's generosity to be adopting random ass kids, a super duper clean record, no scandals or anything- it just- it doesn't feel right. No one's that clean. They have to be hiding something.

So when u can't find anything against them, you let your imagination go wild and start making conspiracy theories, kinda feel like reader goes in her gossip girl era to stir things up so that someone would come forward with something- anything.

Bruce's eyes almost bulge out as he reads the blog's headline-

"The secrets of Gotham's favourite billionaire playboy!"

Shit- did you figure out he's batman?

Nope. In fact, you covered everything but that. From theories about him adopting troubled kids for PR, to the Wayne family actually being a chauvinist cult, to conspiracies about his ties with the Rothschild, his philanthropic donations being a front for illegal activity, the Wayne Manor holding lavish nsfw parties, and even a classic "they drink virgin maiden blood!"

Bruce stood in your apartment, eyes narrowing at your sleeping form on the couch.

"Bruce? What- how did you get in?" You don't remember unlocking your door.

"What is the meaning of this?" He pulled up your article on his phone.

"Huh?" You took a closer look, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Oh. Yeah, I wrote that."

"Why?"

You shrugged. "I was bored."

"What?" Bruce could feel himself getting angry. How could you be so nonchalant about the lies you wrote?

"You know this isn't true." "I do." "Then why did you write it?" "I told you, I was bored. Besides, you told me I could write about anyone." You get up with a sigh. "I don't get why you're so worried about this. Barely anyone reads this stuff."

Bruce's brows went up. "There's a 1000 plus views on this already!"

"What?" your eyes twinkled. "A thousand already? Its not even been 24 hours since I posted. Wow, people really do enjoy conspiracy-" you shut up when you saw his glare. "Right, sorry."

"Take it down, now." Bruce orders, brow twitching when you just walk past him and into the kitchen, pouring yourself some coffee. "Why?" you asks after taking a sip.

He glares at you. "Because it isnt true-"

"Then give me something that is."

Bruce stared at you. Is this... is this your way of wanting an interview?

You sighed. "Look, just let me interview you family, I promise to only write the truth and only the truth. No conspiracies, I swear."

"Or I could just fire you. Better yet, have you sued for defamation."

You nodded. "You could, but honestly that would only bring more attention to the articles and more conspiracies would arise. Besides, you and I both know you cant stop me from writing even if I'm in jail."

Bruce watched you walk upto him, holding your phone in your hand. "Come on, just one week- one week at your place, I'll even let you read the article before I post it. If you dont like it, I'll delete it."

I mean... it did sound like a pretty good bargain. Besides, at his home, youd be in a more supervised space.

So here you are, standing in the lobby of the Wayne manor as a posh butler leads you to Bruce's office. Of course Alfred will be a part of your articles. He's too fancy to not be.

And so over the course of a week, you dont really find anything particularly intriguing about the family, even after you interviewed each member. You're mentally groaning at the thought of writing yet another boring article... that is until you accidentally discover the batcave (ok not accidentally, u hid a recorder in Bruce's office and u heard the man discussing about it with Dick)

Anyways, it didnt take long for you to discover the cave, and it took you even less for you to write a scandalous article.

"RICH MAN COSPLAYS AND PRACTICES HIS JUJUTSU SKILLS ON THE MENTALLY ILL! SEE PICTURES OF WHERE HE ROLEPLAYS IN MASKS!"

Unfortunately, before you hit "post", your phone is snatched and you're knocked out.

When you come to, Bruce is sitting in front of you looking beyond pissed while you're tied up in your seat.

"We had a deal, Y/n." Bruce gritted out.

"So? Deal was off the moment I found out you were Batman." You shrugged.

"We had a deal-"

"You really expect me to just pretend like I'm blind after I found out who you really are? Do you think anyone would just give up on a scoop this big?" You tilt your head at him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at you. "Scoop? Thats what this is to you?"

You nodded. "Sure, you're a hero who fights crime and brings "peace" to Gotham, but who knows for sure? After all, thats how you want the world to see you." You lean as far as your restraints allow you. "I dont trust you, Bruce. Not one bit. There's just- this gut feeling about you. Nothing personal, but I dont get good vibes from you."

"Is that so?" Bruce raised his brow before sighing. "I guess there's no reason to let you go then."

"What?"

He nodded to himself. "Yes, if I let you go now, you'll only cause more trouble for me, but also for yourself. If you post content like that, people will target you- yes, I definitely cant let you go. You're an impulsive idiot who'd endanger herself just to not be bored."

Your eyes widen. "You cant kill me."

Bruce scoffed. "Dont be ridiculous, I can, but I wont. I just want to take care of you, protect you from yourself." He stood up. "I did a little bit of research on you too, yknow? You keep your personal life super private, I have to give credit to you, it wasnt easy to find out about your family. But... money makes the mare go."

Your throat dried as you saw a glint in his eyes. He knew... he couldnt-

Bruce's footsteps echoed as he neared you and ruffled your hair. "Poor you... having to deal with a schizoprenic mom." He leaned down to smile gently at you, but you could sense the sinister intent.

"Dont worry, she'll be taken care of at Gotham Asylum while you stay with us."

girl idk where i was going with this, i just needed to get it out of my drafts (i have another long incomplete draft about platonic yandere dick x gymnast reader where he basically is intrigued by this mini tonya harding who lives for her dead beat father's approval who doesnt give a shit about her unless she comes first. so its upto dick to adopt u and make u a part of batfam)

[monratarot]

Who will be your future spouse?

Pick a card reading🍄🦋🌸💗

Hello guys! Moni here! 🧚🏼‍♀️

It's almost the half of the month so I was thinking that this would be a good opportunity for those who are single and searching for love.

Here is a free reading about your future spouse. Pick the pile that you are most drawn to and scroll down to read about your future partner. Keep in mind that gender can be reversed.

Takes what resonate with you because remember that this is just a general reading and it might not apply for everyone.

Don't forget to like/reblog/comment and follow me! I would really appreciate it because it will help my blog grow!

So let's get started! Enjoy!💟

Moni🧚🏻‍♀️

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒Your feedback is highly appreciated

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒Like and reblog to claim your pile

Pile 1 🍄☁️🌸 Pile 2 🍄☁️🌸Pile 3

└─── °∘💮∘° ───┘ └─── °∘💮∘° ───┘ └─── °∘💮∘° ───┘

Pile 1 (🌸◠∀◠)(◠ᵕ◠🌸)

MR CREATIVE - control over emotions, diplomatic, compassionate ↓manipulative, a master of emotions with selfish intentions

When you can meet them – Libra season or 7 weeks/7 months, on a Sunday

He is charming and confident but comfortable to be around.

Astrological associations - Libra and Scorpio

Men or women over the age of 40

emotionally passionate

a person with auburn, red, or medium colored hair

solid love

someone dynamic, active, and radiate confidence;

creative man, the poet, the man who dreams deeply

they can be sometimes wishy-washy but always with the flow of things even if he can be frustratingly laid back at the time

vitality, passion, and appetite for life, deeply sensual and not ashamed of his pleasure or his body

in their negative they becomes the addicted or the impotent lover(he becomes posses and lost, living only for the pleasure at the moment

nurture, guide, and support others; act socially responsible; let yourself be touched and moved; listen to others with sympathy and understanding; use intuition in decision-making

Key meaning of the relationship:

a compassionate and somewhat emotional person

a warm and gentle guy, liked by many for his easy nature

warmhearted, charismatic person

they follow their intuition in their work

they are sociable, but sensitive and need to choose their friends wisely

ideal romantic partner

motivated to help others through direct action and cooperation, serene, calm

subtle, friendly, sympathetic, caring, compassionate, affectionate

avoids conflicts and problems, willing to help, co-dependent

hypersensitive to indifference and criticism, difficulty in saying “no”

pessimistic, gloomy, doesn't want to offend or disappoint anyone

nostalgic, unstable, easily seduced, duplicity, rigid control of or hides emotions, manipulation

telling others what they want to hear, can be overwhelming by another's pain

Oracle Message: Support others by supporting yourself first.

Your day may also feel confused, changeable, and with many different things that seem to require your attention from upset teenagers to misunderstandings with others that arise from unchecked emotions.

Time for you to consider finding your own support from this type of person.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ───

a sexy or sensual feel to your love life; a focus on primal urges, sexuality, and dominance; beginnings of a romance that is very physical but sometimes lacking on more substantial levels; the attraction in a new relationship will be based on appearances rather than things in common

Possible job:

entrepreneurs

inventors

goal setters and go-getters

mystics and spiritual leaders

sports coach

fitness instructor

motivational speaker

life coach

army soldiers

coach

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

Pile 2 (🌸◠∀◠)(◠ᵕ◠🌸)

I KNOW I'M A DREAMER - romance, adventurism, an invitation ↓moodiness, someone who is too charming, heated emotions/temper

When you can meet them – Pisces season, 12 weeks/12 months, on a Saturday

They are a dedicated, motivated, emotional, tender, sensitive, and loving person

Element - the fire of the suits of water - Aquaris + Pisces

romance, relationships

dreamy, charming, romantic

being focused on love

man or women under the age of 40

dark hair and eyes

faithfulness

this knight’s quest is love

romantic person, a love interest & also yourself in the throes of full-on love

tendency to be manic by nature(one moment you are the love of his life and the next one you are the thorn in their ass)

tendency to be jealous by nature

stalker

Key meaning of the relationship

prosperity, property and beginnings

the beginning stages of something tangible

growth

material abundance

new enterprise

finances or wealth; a solid fruitful foundation

a promotion

good luck

unexpected money

Oracle Message: Act with love, express yourself, be creative.

Allow yourself the time to write poetry, prepare a sumptuous meal, plan that secret date for your partner.

Do something special for your lover today – flowers, chocolates, that date – but something unusual like ice skating, or a quiet out-of-town dinner, something that is intimate and full of togetherness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ───

love is around the corner and sparks are already flying; great opportunities for growth and positive natural change in romance; speak up and act out in order to get what you want; new relationship, go with the flow; time to pursue new love, to feel silly with someone or just to fall unconditionally in love with you(embrace your inner fool and trust that falling into this phase is the point)

Possible job:

entrepreneurs

inventors

creators

pioneers and adventurers

mystics and spiritual leaders

sports coach

fitness instructor

motivational speaker

life coach

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

Pile 3 (🌸◠∀◠)(◠ᵕ◠🌸)

Mr PRACTICAL - abundance, security, financial success ↓greed, temptation, infinite desire for more things

When you can meet them – in Capricorn season, 10 weeks/10 months, on a Tuesday

They are thoughtful and wise, not rushing decisions nor being swayed to conform to modernity

Element - the air of the suit of earth

Astrological association - Aries and Taurus

a generous person

man or women over the age of 40

dark hair and eyes

finding happiness

seeing failures as winds

natural business person

great sense of humor

seeing failures as wins

being positive, being thankful

honest soul

naive for love

educated

emotional

person who demonstrates how resources are gained and used

they are always there

common-sense, apparent, reliable, accomplished, solid, steady, calm, wealthy, supportive

the user of secret knowledge, the knower, and the master of the technology

in their negative - they becomes the manipulator or the denying “innocent” one; taking advantage of others through specialized knowledge(leads to false superiority, isolation, and loneliness)

Oracle Message: This is a day for holding court & solving issues.

People see you as someone trustworthy, authoritative, level-headed, and great in a crisis.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ───

you no longer have the tolerance for the drama that a younger kind of love would offer, what you want is to be with someone who understands what life is really about; you will be successful in your endeavors - have faith

Possible job:

estate agent/developers

businessman/manager

director

master craftsman

banker

stock broker

teacher/educator

merchants

businessman

bodybuilder

bodyguard

professional athlete

entrepreneur

lawyer

banker

consultant

gardener

doctor

electrician

[liillyliilly]

I Need A Challenge

ushijima wakatoshi x reader words; 3804 synopsis; she writes a scathing review of ushijima's volleyball skills. how else should he respond if not by inviting her out to dinner?

She was tired of people like him. People who had no reason to be so stereotypically perfect. Everyone knows the type, comically good looking, is a prodigy in their one specific thing, acting so nonchalant that it ends up becoming their token personality trait. It was all so boring to her.

Which is why, as she was taking notes in the most recent Volleyball Nations League game, she wrote down some very harsh words for her analysis of star spiker Ushijima Wakatoshi. It was just the brutally honest truth of the world, she reasoned. Her editor, after reading the article she wrote at the game, almost dropped their jaw in shock at what she had written.

“This is really,” Editor Xhou sucked in some air through his teeth, “This is almost borderline libel material.”

She inspected her nails, shrugging as Xhou kept talking to her.

“I mean, you said that he is, and I quote from your own words, ‘Ushijima is the default setting for a volleyball player, there’s nothing too particularly unique’. You want me to let the paper publish this?” Xhou leans back into his office chair, pushing his glasses up and sighing.

“I write the truth, and the truth is that when Ushijima is on the court, you always know the exact plays he’ll make, the exact moves he’ll execute. The result is consistently the same. The games are too predictable when he plays.” She stands up from the seat opposite to Xhou.

Xhou sets the paper on his desk, checking that she really is okay with the article having her name attached to it.

A thumbs up is the only response she gives to her supervisor.

Xhou stamps the paper with his name, and faxes the documents to the coordinator putting together the sports magazine review for this issue. He wonders if the legal team is going to get involved again, he remembers the last player she reviewed, he was crushed and had to move to Alaska to play in a much smaller league. Xhou fully believes he’s going to get the magazine sued for letting her article fly.

Tendou finishes his squat set, hanging up the weights with a heave. Ushijima finishes his hundredth bicep curl, finally finishing his repetitions of this exercise.

Tendou pokes some fun, “I'm so sad for people without legs, they have to skip leg day.” He muses, trying to see what reaction or comment his best friend will make. Tendou twists and flexes in the full length mirrors lining the gym.

Ushijima only responds with a nod. He checks his phone, only to see that he’s received a little over four hundred notifications and counting. The beeping and noises start to pile up. Tendou peeks over Ushijima’s shoulder and gasps, he steals Ushijima’s phone away and immediately investigates what all the hustle and bustle could be related to.

“You should probably read this article, I think the writer has it out for your throat Wakatoshi.” Tendou grimaces while handing the phone back.

He skims the article, viewing the main talking points and major issues the author brings to light about his play style. His boring, everyday genius playstyle. He’s read criticisms of his volleyball skills before, but this one doesn’t seem too targeted solely about him, just using him as the mechanism to get a broader point across about the lack of challenges in volleyball recently. He chuckles at one of her comments, reading it aloud.

“Monster generation? I need a real challenge from these players, but all they’re giving me is platinum dreams without true passion and anger for the sport. I want them foaming at the mouth with new tricks, but I’m getting the same exact game over and over again.” Tendou cringes as Ushijima reads the words out loud. Ushijima stifles another chuckle.

Ushijima tucks his phone into his pocket, picking up his duffel bag. “I like her. She knows volleyball.”

It wasn’t just her comments, it was also the name of the author that Ushijima liked.

Tendou drops his water bottle in response to Ushijima’s behavior, stunned at the openness of amusement he has for the article and for the investment he has for this particular reporter.

Ushijima’s manager says that she’ll have a cease and desist letter issued to the paper for publishing such a slanderous piece. Ushijima proposes an entirely different solution.

She didn’t expect to be sitting at a restaurant, pencil and paper in hand, waiting for someone she just dragged through the mud to arrive so they could share a meal and an interview.

It was winter, and her reading glasses had fogged up slightly in the difference between the outdoors temperature and the warmth of the restaurant. The main features of the restaurant was the Western Style dining choices and decor, it reminded her almost of a hibachi place, but instead of Japanese food it was just a bunch of American and European dishes.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Ushijima pulls out his chair and settles into it, grabbing his glass of water so he can drink from it.

“High school seemed so long ago, but yes it is nice to see you again Wakatoshi. Sorry for the piece, your name just carries the right amount of importance to get my bigger points across.” She crosses her legs, setting her pencil behind her ear. The waiter comes around and takes their orders. He asks for the salmon, and she gets the house soup.

“No, I totally get it. But the statement about how people just continually eat up the single dish I serve? I thought you would’ve found a better analogy for my consistency on the court.” He just smiles at her, watching her move the pencil from behind her ear to her mouth so she could chew on it a little. One of her tells of when she was deeply thinking about how to respond to something.

Ushijima remembers all the stories she would write back in high school, ranging from sports analysis of Shiratorizawa clubs for her journalism extracurricular to getting paid to write love letters from person to person. She garnered enough money to pay for a new laptop and her entire wishlist of stationery items.

He remembers her lending him a pen once during class, it was a weightier metal pen. The ink was so black he was sure it was made of pure darkness. While he admired the pen she went into a rant talking about the pen itself, the quality of it and how it took forever to be delivered to her. They both got chastised by the teacher for having a side conversation and had to sit outside the classroom. But they ended up talking outside the classroom despite being told not to.

“Like you’d know what a good analogy looks like.” She hides her smirk behind a spoonful of soup. Ushijima appreciates her ability to be unapologetic, her honesty and bluntness matching his own linguistic traits.

They talk for three hours, about volleyball, life after high school, the article she wrote, about friends and the situations they found themselves in. Ushijima talks about Tendou and his chocolatier aspirations, she brings up Semi Eita’s new album that actually sounded truly alternative and unique.

He remembers her having a crush on Semi throughout high school. He didn’t really see why she would sit at their practices sometimes, just sighing wistfully, before freezing and turning flustered when Semi tried to make conversation like a normal person. But when Semi was seen to be a slight habitual complainer, she grew a distaste for him. Ushijima was sure that Semi was her longest crush, clocking in at around two months or so.

Ushijima did enjoy that she came to their practices sometimes, because then he could ask her about her pen collection and she would openly, loudly, and enthusiastically layer on every detail she could fit into her remarks. And she was someone who asked him about his favorite things, primarily volleyball but also about reading the advertisements in the Weekly Shonen Jump Magazine. Or about how good a runner’s high could feel sometimes.

Around her, he could share without fear of being misunderstood. She just accepted what she heard, and then analyzed it, taking her time and asking clarifying questions. He did his best to emulate her mannerisms and tact within their conversations, usually failing, but she didn’t mind.

She did openly declare an aversion for him throughout high school, that genius powerhouses should never be entertained with acknowledgement. What others considered harsh from her was almost like beaming encouragement for him. It was like she was telling him, if he didn’t continually improve and advance then the stagnation would leave him in the dust. A push in the right direction was more accurate of why she would say what she did about him.

He takes the bill from her, puts his gold debit card on the clipboard, and returns it to the waiter before she can even open her purse. Rolling her eyes, she sets some bills on the table and slides it over to him. Glaring at him until he accepts the cash and puts the bills into his wallet.

“Are you dating anyone right now?” Ushijima inquires while they walk down the street to get to the train station. The night air leaves a chill around the two of them. He had his hands tucked into his pockets, and she had her arms folded over her body.

Snow falls from the sky, catching the lights and making streaks of color burst in small flickers like fireflies. The piled up snow in the roads hadn’t yet been plowed thoroughly, and wasn’t sullied with pollution that made it yellow and black. The snow was much more like a blanket.

“Listen, I’m what people consider easy to love but hard to please. Most people say they felt like they were never enough for me when we were dating.” She bites on her bottom lip a little. It’s a confusing feeling to be unnerved by him, and she feels even more uneasy when she realizes that she’s speaking too openly. “I don’t intentionally degrade those I date, I just, I have high expectations. I don’t give many second chances.”

His breath comes out in puffs of white, winter nipping at his nose which makes him feel uncomfortable. He wonders if she’s as cold as him. He knew that she had high expectations, none of the boys at their high school got remotely close to being romantically involved with her. She wanted more than what most people could offer. She wanted someone who was as open as her.

She feels a little guilty about her article now. Maybe she pushed the words a little too much on his bad qualities. Ushijima really wasn’t that bad, he was just dependable and rational, which crafted his playstyle of being an ultimate pillar of strength for a team. Why shouldn’t a team go with the most reliable way of scoring points? Then she shooed the thought. If volleyball wanted to keep being popular, it needed to evolve.

“I liked your article a lot.” He offers, segwaying the conversation, knowing her thoughts better than she knew them. “Power goes far, but even then, there’s ceilings that need to be broken. There’s talents that need to be unearthed, planted, and then allowed to bloom.”

They sit on the bench under the covering for the train station. The screen shows that the train she needs to take will come in around ten minutes.

“Thanks. My editor was worried you were going to sue me for what I wrote.” She laughs a little, rubbing her hands against her thighs to build up some lingering heat in her hands and her body.

He passes her his gloves from his jacket pocket. Making a small hum he waves them in front of her. She accepts and embraces the black fleece covering her fingers.

“Oh, no, there’s no way I’d want you to be sued. But I do want you to add another part to the article.” He blows some air onto his hands, rubbing them together. She raises an eyebrow inquisitively, turning towards him on the bench.

Once he had finished reading her piece on Ushijima’s game, he went through and read all her other articles. He found out her favorite current player was actually Hinata Shouyou, the energetic innovator. She had written about his unique approach, due to natural athleticism. Also about his experience in Brazilian beach volleyball making his defense skills unique in the field of both Japanese volleyball and on a global scale. It was all about Hinata this, Hinata that. But could the ultimate decoy ever compare to the pillar of strength?

“What do you want me to change? I can’t make any promises.”

“Say I’m your number one, because I don’t do last place.” Ushijima lifted her chin up, looking right into her eyes. He inspects her face, the small miniscule motions her features display show that she’s listening, actively listening. “Did I ever mention that you’re the only one that has my attention?”

She really was. The only reporter he cared to give quotes to after big games, the only girl who he ever wondered if there was any possibility to develop a relationship with. He was hooked on every word she wrote, every interview she hosted online. She was in his world, but never overlapped her social circle with his for longer than an hour at best.

She swallows thickly, “I’m sorry to say this, but I really am unimpressed by your playstyle.”

He raises an eyebrow, sliding his hand from her chin to the side of her neck. He can feel the way her pulse is racing under her skin.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Her train arrived. She ducked under his hand and made her way onto the train. Before the sliding door closes, she motions him closer so she doesn't have to yell.

“Then show me your talents. I need a challenger for my first place.”

Tendou lies on his stomach on the floor, Ushijima is reviewing some plays written by his coach. He scans for any play that could show off his left hand spikes, or any play that he could try and improvise a receive if he wasn’t on the front row rotation. The plays are different from what he’s used to. But his coach said that they were all optional, and that Ushijima’s playstyle was perfectly fine as it was. But ‘fine as is’ doesn’t earn him any accolades in her book.

Tendou perks up, “I always felt like fighting had romantic undertones.” He references what Ushijima had told him about how the dinner with his reporter went last week.

“But I don’t want to fight her? I’d hardly call a slight disagreement a fight.” Ushijima sets aside the packet he had been studying.

He opens his phone and refreshes the webpage for the newspaper she worked for. When nothing pops up under her name, he goes to the calendar page to see if she’d be attending an upcoming game he’d be playing in. He sets his phone aside when he realizes she will in fact be in attendance.

“But you do want to fight for her ‘first place’ hottie player ranking.” Tendou kicks his feet in the air, crossing his feet and tapping the top of his head.

Ushijima stands up and goes to check his closet, seeing if he needs to get a tighter jersey for the upcoming game. “She never used the word ‘hottie’ when talking about her favorite player.”

“So you admit that you do want to be her favorite player?”

Ushijima finishes trying on the jersey over his long sleeve compression shirt, the jersey fitted better than he remembered. He tugs on the front of the uniform. Then what Tendou said clicks for him.

Ushijima blinks, “I do want to be her favorite player.” He doesn’t see why he would deny that observation. Being her favorite player would be the ideal situation for him.

Tendou rolls over onto his back and wiggles his pointer fingers in the air, “You want to be more than just her favorite player.” He sings the words in a teasing manner.

“Maybe I do.”

One time, near the end of high school, she was talking during lunch. Her friends were uninterested, wanting to discuss boys or homework instead of her critical worldview analysis. Her table was right next to the table that Ushijima and Tendou were sitting at, their volleyball friends already outside tossing around a ball.

Ushijima listened in, drinking his milk while Tendou ate chicken nuggets. When her voice got quieter, almost to the point of fading out entirely due to her slowly realizing her friends were not as interested in the conversation as she was, Ushijima leaned in subconsciously, trying to catch her words.

Tendou pinched Ushijima, telling him that if he wanted to listen to her, he should ask her to come sit with them. Ushijima froze. So Tendou invited her to come sit with them. Placing her lunch tray down, she ate a carrot, sensing Ushijima’s hesitance and Tendou’s eagerness.

It was Ushijima that spoke first, “Keep going. You remind me of someone. He said almost the same thing, about his worthless pride and not forgetting about it.”

She brightens. Continuing her dissection of the value of pride, she refers to Ushijima as a reference point for pride. Using him in her examples and demonstrations of her illustrative examples. Around the third time she says his family name, he makes another request.

“You can just call me Wakatoshi.”

Tendou drops his chicken nugget, but quickly regains his pace in eating the arms off the dinosaurs.

She says his name, once and then twice. Letting it settle onto her tongue and leave a trace of what a first name basis could mean. Pondering on that instead of her newest philosophy interest is quickly dropped. She only ever calls him by his name from then on.

Needless to say, the next game he plays at, she’s there, with her notepad and pen. Each receive, hit, serve, and toss is carefully recorded on her paper.

He doesn’t do anything too off the typical, but he does try new things his coach had mentioned. Pressuring an opponent’s highest scorer more, trying a few block kills when he’s in the right rotation, scoring some points off the tip of the blockers hands instead of cutting right through their attempts to defend. He’s more tired after this game than his last one. Yet, he had more fun this time around. His teammates seemed thrilled with the results of never having a gap less than five points.

After the game, before he goes to the locker room to debrief with the team and change into regular clothes, he stalks his way over to her. She’s talking to another reporter that had been sitting in the media section, but the other reporter just elbows her lightly when he notices Ushijima making an attempt to approach. The other man slowly walks away, bidding her a farewell.

She’s still sitting on the bench, cheekily covering her notes with her hand, and writing something down. When he takes a place next to her, he spreads his legs a little, expanding his presence and bumping their thighs into each other. She initially retracts from the touch, but relaxes into it.

He’s aware that his body is thinly sheened with sweat. It drips from the hair at his nape down his back and soaks into his player kit. She brings her notepad up to her face, looking at him over the spiral binding of the paper. Trying to hide her comments and analysis of the game, which had been overwhelmingly positive for Ushijima.

“What’s your professional opinion of the game?” He uses a finger to push down her notepad that was covering her nose. A streak of ink and pencil lead was across her cheek and nose. He brought his thumb up and wiped away the markings. At first swipe, nothing moved, so he slid his thumb over again with just a little more pressure.

“It was entertaining in a different sense. Rather than being solely athletic entertainment.” She licks her own thumb and finishes wiping away all the marks that she could feel him trying to get rid of. She misses a sliver on the apple of her cheek but he doesn’t say anything, enjoying the way that it makes her seem less intimidating and more adorable.

“Care to share with the class?”

“Well, when a certain player keeps trying to make eye contact during the game, when he should instead be invested in the game, it does pose some interesting investigative questions.”

At this point, Ushijima slid his hand to her thigh, asking her to explain further, “Such as?”

“When will he get up the nerve to ask her on a date? Will he take her for a ride in that brand new car he got? Does he need glasses from how frequently it seemed he scrutinized the audience in search of her?” She pauses, then continues, “And will he be mad if she writes something about how attentive the setter was during the game?”

“Soon, for the date. Most definitely a long car ride to the mountains. His vision is actually perfectly 20/20, he just wanted to make sure she was having a good time by observing her reactions. No comments for the setter, he’s a rookie, and much less attentive than an older, more experienced player.”

She hums a little in regards to his answers to her inquiries. Soon, she tugs on the back of his hand, the hand that was resting on her thigh. She bites the cap off her pen, waving the pen in the air, close enough to his skin for him to understand the point of what she was communicating.

The pen tickled the skin of his hand, but he liked the way she put one hand under his to make his hand rest flat so she could write her piece on his body. Capping the pen back up, she tucked it behind her ear.

Written on his hand was a series of numbers, along with a small doodle of a volleyball.

Getting up from her spot on the media bench, she leaves him with a short statement.

“I liked your response to my challenge. Keep making the Monster Generation bloom with each game Wakatoshi.” She halts for a moment, then turns back to him, “You can be my number one on those conditions. Blooming the Monsters and responding to my challenges.”

He’d return every challenge she gave him if it meant he could be hers.

[tarotenchantress]

Astro observations ptV Aye-Aye and the swan edition🦢🏹

DO NOT PLAGIARISE MY WORK🚫

All these observations are based on my personal experience.

By- tarotenchantress🧚🏻‍♀️

The following observations are based on my understanding of what placement may make one think that they are ugly, dont fit the "ideal" box, are always noticed for their looks, are criticised for their looks, have their worth attached to their looks, have people compare them/ rate them for their looks, feel that nothing they do makes them feel pretty, are treated differently for their appearance, are considered stupid because of their appearance, bear the brunt of others envy and projection because of their appearance and those who become vain in their beauty .

Aye-aye is a lemur that is associated with ugliness due to its appearance and swan, as we all know, is associated with beauty because of its appearance, hence the title🏹🤍

🦢 venus in hard aspects with saturn, saturn in venusian degrees of libra (7°,19°)and taurus(2°,14°,26°), venus in capricorn or aquarius.

[This placement may make you very critical of your appearance, it can also mean that to an extent you may nitpick on your features alot, feel like your face is not "balanced" enough or "proportionate enough", call yourself names and idk why the word gross came inmy my mind so maybe some of you are also doing that or do that. This placement is also extremely prone to hating on their body too specifically the hip areas may feel as if their ass is too flat or it are not "pretty". This placement also indicates growing into your features later in life. Some mught even hate their voice or feel uncomfortable listening to their voice. People with this placement may also have suppressed anger issues esp when people comment on their body as neither of these signs and planets are extremely vocal about their pain. Youmay also feel as if no one understands your pain or people tend to be extremelycold or uncaring towards your body issues. Some people may also force you to believe that you have "masculine" features and they maypick on it. You may feel as if people around you judge you alot for appearance and tend to withhold opportunities just cause of your appearance. This placement also indicates that you either got into makeup very early on orrr you got introduced to it way later. This placement to be honest also indicates that one might hate their nose or its bone structure and feel as if it has "ruined" their face and the proportionality. Cynicism may also arise when it comes to appearance. You guys remember that tiktok audio which went like "how old are you?" "Im 19" "you look older" "its not a compliment" yeahh it mught be some scene like that too. Ans i also feel that people may pick on your ass or hips or nose or ears or your throat or voice in general or you may do it. And you may also look into workouts specifically of glutes and to increase the lower hip area and may also hate singing or feel extremely insecure about it. They may get a lot hate from feminine energies or may feel as if women were far more critical of them. Stiff lower back too]

🦢 ascendant in hard aspects with saturn, venus, mars, ascendant in capricorn or capricorn degrees, aspecting 10th house.

[People with

Venus in hard aspect with ascendant may not even see their own beauty. Its almost as if they become so vain with idealising others and other body types esp hourglass figures that they forget about their own appearance and feel dejected. They may also feel extremely jealous if other women looking the way they idealise or may get upset. Venus also demands perfectionism and this placement indicates never being happy with you appearance. Almost as if there's always something to pick on, something out of place something to hate on. Especially the ass area, it may be a point of insecuriry for some.

Mars in hard aspects may always feel as if their body is not "soft" enough or on the contrary not "healthy" enough. They may also have a sensitive ir "red" skin. The undertone of their skin may be reddish too. They may feel as if they "look too boxy" may often idealise a body with abs and muscles or a more feminine body [not gender specific] and mayworkout just to get that look or on the contrary may hate their "manly look" and try to hide it and hate it being the focus of attention. They may also have a love hate relationship with the feminine side of themselves as they may try to show up as more aggressive or dominating or masculine. They may be very hard on their body. One may also be impatient. This placement is also an indicator that masculine energies or men may not have been the kindest towards you may have passed absurd comments on your bosy. Also indicates that youmay be someone who might get into physical fights which may scar your appearance in some way. Dw this doesnt have to be the case for all.

Ascendant in hard aspects with saturn may hate their skeletal system.may feel as if their bones are not strong enough. May feel insecure about their bones as they may be "sticking out" or "weirdly shaped" may also be on the skinnier end may have been picked on for being like that. Adults may be harsh on you since childhood for you appearance. This placement struggles to see beauty in everyday life, in themselves. Very prone to melancholic phases. May want to get surgery done but too scared of its process and effects and failures. Also idk how to say this, like, its not for everyone but you may have a "boney" ass or you may feel like you have a "boney" ass.. Im so sorry omg. Stretching js a muat with this placement as you may feel your back getting stiff. Lower back esp. You may also fear sex and have it later in life and intimacy too and you may feel robotic in sexual acts. May mean tgst you like to dress up more conservatively or your dressing sense may be on the formal mature end.

[Similar effects seen for the remaining. Cap rising, rising in cap degrees, aspecting 10th house]

I have ascendant □ saturn and i tell you what. i used have alot of acne on my forehead and i also had a very oily skin cause i was 13 and i ended up using a pumice stone on my forehead cause pain was the only way for it to go away🤡]

[Capricorn or aqua here may do the same, 10th house placements too]

🦢neptune aspecting ascendant and sun esp harsher aspects in 1st house.

You may not even understand how you look like. Like genuinely having no sense of how your body looks like. I have nept conj sun and i for the longest time had no concept of my own body type even today idk what it is. This placement indicate that you may fantasise alot about an ideal body type and may feel dejected if you dont achieve them or if someone tells you it is impossible, you cant handle it and will refuse to accept it. Delulu is the word yeah. Also sense of self may be weak here. Also very prone to falling for others words esp when they are related to their appearance. Blind to their own beauty.

🦢 pluto aspecting ascendant, venus, in libra, in taurus, in 7th house, in libra degrees of 7°,14°, taurus degrees of 2°,14°,26°, in 2nd house, aspecting 7th house, in 2nd house, in 1st house, in 8th house.

[ anything pluto touches becomes a point of obsession. Here pluto creates an intense need to transform. May make the native a bit obsessed with their appearance, become critical or simply wanting to keep working on it. May also make the native work on their appearance for sexual reasons and may fear being rejected sexually because of their body. May also have intimacy issues. People may be obsessed with your appearance and they may hate on you. People may view you in a sexual manner. Women may be more prone to picking on you. But the thing is,,,, this obsession is not always outright, it can be very secretive as pluto and 8th house also govern secrets. You may feel like covering up your body more and not wanting to be in the spotlight. Early knowledge of being sexualised and also introduced to sexual aspects very early on too. May bring out insecurities in others. You may be far more critical of your appearance . You may also be more critical of your ass and genitilia. They may be darker than the rest of your body which may make you insecure.

I have venus square pluto and i had already mentioned it my prev. Observation but i had people i didnt know sexualise me and i had a "friend" who told me that she was scared ill "take" her 🤡married crush🤡 away because of appearance. Yes. Married crush who i never spoke to or knew about before she started🤡 talking to me about him.

I also had another "friend" mock me for wearing makeup who i very quickly shut down by sharing some youtube makeup tutorials on her number and telling her to learn from them.]

🦢uranus aspecting ascendant harshly.

[You may love your appearance one day and hate it the next day. You may have features that stand out alot and " ruin the balance" in your face which is not true. You may also prioritise your mind over your body for most parts.]

🦢venus in aqua, cap, pisces, scorpio

[May make you critical, delulu and obsessive about your appearance.

I have pisces venus and i hate feet. Im sorry. Im not trying to kink shame but i hate my feet and others too. And i know another pisces venus who feels insecure when she looks at other people's feet. Esp women's feet. ]

🦢chiron aspecting venus, asc, 1st house, 7th house, 2nd house, in libra degrees, in taurus degrees, in libra, taurus, in aspecting 1st house, 2nd house, 7th house, 8th house.

[These placements may give pain in lower back areas, relationships that teach you a lesson, become more critical of your aptearance, biggest pain could come from appearance or romantic partners. Also your crushes may reject you or you may feel rejected by them. One of those placements where their crush goes "ewwww" when shipped with them. (Same can happen in saturn aspects too.)] Also back archs may be a pain in the ass for you. Idk why i said that. Intimacy may also be a huge pain for you you. You may fear intimacy and acts like sex.

🦢beauty asteroids in harsh aspects like aphrodite etc

May make a person insecure about their appearance and not see their beauty at all.

🦢nessus aspecting venus, 7th house 2nd house, in those houses, in libra degrees, in taurus degrees

Like i had said in previous obs, nessus is where tou are abused and where you abuse. It is where you get picked on. Your romantic partners may pick on you. They may also sexually pick on you.

🦢saturn in 4th house, in cancer, aspects to moon, in cancerian degres, libra degrees, taurus degres

May make a person fear "losing" their boobs, may make you critical of your boobs, also make you have issues with feelings and intimacy romantic and sexual moments. Love hate relationship with your boobs. May also create issues with femininity.

Like i have moon conj my saturn and i fear losing my boobs as i admire them the most but i also fear losing them if i lose weight and i also hate them sometimes cause i cant wear some tops without feeling like a young medieval woman with a needy baby who's husband has eloped with another woman and now she has to seduce an old man to get by. Omg.

🦢Venus in 6th house, 12th house, virgo venus, virgo rising

May make the native feel as if theyre not that pretty, or eye catching. It may make the person feel like people overlook them and ignore them or they are not remembered alot. May also make the native dress up more modestly or connservatively. May make the native feel bland. May make them seek perfectionism. May also feel the best when OTHERS compliment them and may dress up for public acceptance and approval.

I have it and there are days when i feel like a medieval maid. I also feel like i dont have features that make me unique or stand out. I feel bland. Like wheat.

Alsooo bonus obv i feel like 2nd house stellium or taurus stellium tends to make a person resemble a bull. Its their nose idk why.

[howiscallmewhateveridctaken]

Lmfaooo what a week 😅

So a lot of people are, understandably, leaving the fandom. Drama like this always tends to put people off and unfortunately that affects the media they’ve come to love. I’m not going to be one of those people bc honestly, I don’t even know if I was ever that “in” the fandom in the first place to even leave it. My account isn’t and never was a nevermore account, yes I’ve made a few nevermore post but those were infrequent and amongst posts and reblogs of multiple other fandoms. I’m also in the discord server but I’ve only ever been a lurker, and usually only ever go in it when I want more context to something I’ve seen on tumblr. With that being said however, I still plan on reading nevermore when (or if) it continues because in THIS particular instance I can easily separate art from the artist and I’ll explain why in a moment.

Like I said I’m not and never have been very active in the fandom. I learned about this drama through a post from an account I follow and went through the server to find more context. I was not present through any of the actual conflicts but I’ve seen the conversations.

So why am I commenting on this?

Well mainly I want to make a point about para social relationships as well as moderation of servers and fandoms as a creator.

I just want to preface this by saying that after reading through all possible context, perspectives, takes and evidence I could find or come across, I genuinely don’t think red is necessarily a bad/morally wrong person. I DO however think she is in the wrong in this situation especially due to how she handled everything. As for how a lot of people are reacting to everything, there’s a couple of things I’d like to note:

From what I’ve seen, all of this is just one big thing of “he said/she said” and pointing fingers as well as just picking sides. If your absolutely distraught because red didn’t turn out to be the person you thought they were simply because she said things you didn’t like, I understand the disappointment and frustration but please remember that content creators in general aren’t your friends. You don’t know these people, they just do things you happen to like. Now I’m not saying you SHOULDN’T feel upset about it, it’s ok to and you even should if it’s an issue to you feel strongly about but please keep in mind that this isn’t a “sign of their true colors” or anything because you don’t know what they were actually like to begin with. Ofc I don’t mean that to say “expect the worst from people” but more as a reminder that can hopefully help you to look at the situation more critically and logically before jumping in guns blazing. It’s understandable if it affects you emotionally, you were emotionally invested in their work; but please realize this before you let it get to that point. Now on the other side of the coin, there’s the people who I feel as though will just pick the creators side simply because they’re fanboys and will stand by them no matter what. I’m DEFINITELY NOT saying that’s what everyone who’s on red side is, but naturally there’s bound to be a few that are going to dickride for the sake of dickriding. Regardless, there’s a lack of willingness to listen and understand from both sides (at least from what I’ve noticed) and that’s a problem because when no one wants to listen then what’s supposed to be a community coming together to resolve an issue just turns into a giant flame war. Also this should go without saying, but at least give the mods a chance. They obviously handled the whole situation horrendously but they aren’t going to do their jobs any better when they’ve got people coming at them with pitchforks.

Speaking of the moderators. I genuinely can’t wrap my head around how red and the other mods have managed to fumble this badly…….like it’s almost funny. All said and done they all had ONE very simple job and they blew it. Although I very much disagree with it, I do understand red’s decision to unban crimson. They wanted to give them a second chance, sure whatever. What I DONT GET is why would they not at the very least check to see if anyone else would be comfortable with a decision that would possibly affect them or even impact their safety. At the very least a warning to or a discussion with the victims would have been something. Not only that but even after they unban them, once red saw the NUMEROUS amount of people that were upset about it they, they should have immediately banned them again and then apologize after instead of some rushed explanation. But I get it stress gets the better of you. I understand their desire to keep things as transparent as possible (which i appreciate and I’m sure so do many others) but from that first apology/explanation it felt more like red trying to shake responsibility off themselves and pointing fingers in the guise of being transparent. I did see where red was trying to get at in her first statement, but there was also things that she honestly should have just had the foresight to realize wouldn’t put her in a better light, and this is aside from the victim blaming-esque wording. red basically says that she felt like a group of people (including Laci the one who reported crimson) were just out to get crimson, which is absolutely insane but then again it’s the internet so who knows. However it’s super clear that Laci obviously wasn’t lying bc the things she accused crimson of did in fact happen. So even bringing that up was enough for me to raise my eyebrow at but I digress. Then red practically says it was hard to handle the situation bc the evidence provided was censored, but Laci literally offered to give the uncensored versions so that was completely disingenuous on red’s part at best. To me it just seemed like the mods were looking for excuses for what could be there own laziness at best and negligence at worst. Their biggest fault so far is not being very good at actually listening to their audience and taking them into consideration. She also brought up that fact that Laci was apparently the only person to report crimson which I did not like to say the least. One of the victims confided in Laci and Laci brought it forward. I understand reds suspicions about Laci not being in the actual server where it happened but how are you going to immediately jump to “well why did no one else bring it up” instead of stopping for a sec and thinking “ hm clearly these victims feel uncomfortable stepping forward”. Which they had to do now anyway because of how bad the issue became. They should not have had to do that. Better it be just one person reporting, even if it’s someone you don’t like, than no one reporting and the issue persists under the radar.

And then there’s red’s formal apology…

First off, girl why are you dropping names??? A bunch of who are supposedly minors? Like let’s be so fucking for real right now😭

And then the audacity to be like “please don’t go after or dm these people” like babes if you were genuinely worried about them you wouldn’t have used their names at all. ESPECIALLY when in the end it was completely irrelevant and borderline inappropriate since it really had nothing to do with crimson, their actions or how you handled them. Not to mention the act of calling them “cliques” when literally all they were was side servers. Like if they’re cliques then what does that make red and everyone who’s on her side? It was very clearly just a biased reaction to people saying things she doesn’t like about her, which by all means she has the right to respond to but not in a way that is clearly trying to sway how everyone else sees them. The way red describes everything is as if it’s middle school drama and then proceeds to play directly into it. Don’t get me wrong her apology was fine, when she was ACTUALLY apologizing. Everything else felt like a last ditch effort to drag others under the bus with her. It was lowkey embarrassing to say the least.

Again, it’s important that I make it clear that I don’t believe red is a bad person. I just think she’s an immature person, or at least she is in how she handled everything and continues to handle it bc like I said I don’t know her, and don’t care to frankly. I didn’t start reading nevermore to be buddy buddy with her. Like if we look at the grand scope of things, this is a grown woman beefing with kids. Obviously they aren’t all kids, most of them aren’t I believe but she’s practically stooping down to school yard conflict in how she’s responded so far. Especially at one point in the server when she was being called out and jumped to “yeah I guess I’m the bad guy and totally evil. You all should hate me”. Like actually cut that shit out, what are you doing. I mean honestly.

And my final point because I’ve ranted long enough. I mentioned before that in this instance I am willing to separate the art from the artist, I stand by that because I genuinely do think this is a situation where red could hopefully grow from this and rectify things. The actual unbanning was a stupid and inconsiderate move on her part, but I don’t think she meant any ill-will or had any malicious intent. I disagree with the people calling her a r@pe apologist because that’s honestly just a huge reach. I’ve also seen some accusations of red and/or Flynn being racist, promoting inappropriate art knowing there’s minors around and from what I’ve seen it’s pretty iffy. Regarding the racism, I don’t believe that they are. Their characterizations of the characters regarding their ethnicities IS stereotypical and was obviously just very surface level research into those respective cultures but I chopped that up to ignorance rather than racism. As a woc I was frankly just relived they didn’t make the poc characters centered on some kind of discrimination or tragedy from their era, which yes is something that shouldn’t be ignored but also I don’t know if rednflynn could accurately and more importantly, respectfully portray those types of issues. Nor is it even their place tbh. With that being said however I don’t belong to most of the cultures the characters belong to. To me it never seemed like they were making a caricature out of these cultures, especially since their ethnicities are barely relevant to their stories anyway but I acknowledge that it’s not my place to deem what’s offensive or not.

As for the promoting inappropriate art of the characters and creating some themselves. Yeah they do. I’ve never been shocked about that nor did I think it was something that they are wrong for doing, I mean it’s their own work. Granted I didn’t realize how many minors were in the fandom but that’s literally every fandom, there’s only so much you could do about it. I don’t know if nevermore has a rating but it’s not like it was something ever promoted to be kid friendly, it’s obvious that some scenes are just straight up fan service. While I personally don’t like fan service it never was enough to impact the story so I personally never saw an issue. But point is I don’t think they should have to monitor what is and isn’t appropriate for minors but things get tricky when they have a server where they are clearly aware of minors.

And then there’s other things like people accusing them of promoting SA or some shit like that bc of a lot of stuff involving Montessor which frankly, that’s just a media literacy issue on the readers part. So yeah with that being said I don’t think red is a bad person, although I understand why a lot of people are done with them which is completely fair. I’m pretty much in a grey area about it, who knows if they end up getting in an even bigger scandal, hopefully they come out better from this but only time will tell. The best/smartest thing red has said throughout this entire debacle was that they’re taking a step back from the fandom. I think it’ll be good for everyone, especially them. It seems like it’ll take stress off them anyway. Plus the hole they’ve dug for themselves is already halfway to china by now so there’s that

[bicheetopuff]

I just saw the worst takes about bnha’s ending on Instagram (three days ago now, as of posting this). So, today we’re gonna talk about Izuocha, shonen homoeroticism, and fandom… not in that order though…

I: Fandom

Fandom culture for all media has basically always been a war zone that you have to actively avoid, usually with two defining sides: people who try to enjoy media the way they want to enjoy it, and the people who say that everyone is wrong and attack others who they don’t agree with. There are shades of gray on both sides, but in general this is usually the case. It’s never been “‘alphabet mafia’ vs ‘normal’” or “fanon vs canon” or “right vs wrong”… I almost always see people having fun being attacked unwarranted (I am not saying that people being legitimately problematic shouldn’t be called out, pls don’t get me wrong. I’m talking about innocent fun!). And I’m not just talking about dudebros attacking shippers, I’ve seen a lot of shippers attack non-shippers/other shippers of a different ship, and it’s almost always people just saying “you’re wrong, I’m right, and your take ruins this media piece of media for everyone else.” That being said, I wanna talk about the highlighted parts of these comments, okay? But first I need to explain the video that these comments were on.

It was a video by @/d_rich7 on Instagram, a big anime creator, talking about this tweet:

To summarize the video, he went on to say that he’s not surprised because bnha has the worst shipping community since Naruto and how Horikoshi probably felt forced into not confirming any ships because of “threats and hate mail” that he got from his fandom. I’ll come back to that but first I’ll talk about some of the comments:

“At least, they can say they weren’t the reason for the downfall of their anime.”

I've seen this take from different parts of the fandom, whether it was in regard to ships, todofam, or the villains. Just because the narrative of a story ends up matching the theories of people you disagree with, doesn't mean the story is going through a downfall. Just accept that you were wrong and move on. It is okay to not like certain aspects of the story and it's okay to discuss and criticize it, but pinning the blame on people who just happened to be right, no matter how much you hate it, is not okay.

“People need to stop demanding the literal CREATOR of a series to do things how they want it done…They to learn it’s not their story to tell…”

“…like I don’t get how people who have no impact on the writing of a story get mad because the CREATORS don’t wanna use their personal ideas.”

“…from now on imma blame the fandom for fucking up the anime/manga, we could’ve had a better ending if it wasn’t for them…”

Outside of the context, I actually agree with the sentiment that fans shouldn't feel so entitled that they think they have any control over the media they're consuming. But, the commenters don't realize that they're doing the exact thing that they’re talking about. They're convinced that the queer shipping community is the reason the creator decided not to confirm any relationship and are pissed off that the ship they were rooting for, didn't happen. Why are they exempt from this rule? Because straight ships are supposed to happen and queer ships aren't? Because the boy is supposed to win the girl at the end in order to develop a good shonen? I'll go into the misogynistic implications of that later.

Other than that, I have seen a lot of people on tumblr get mad about other things, like before, regarding to the villains and todofam drama to the point that they started insulting Hori. Like I said, it's okay to be mad. Being mad about something doesn't make you a bad person but it was never our story to tell. Criticism and hate, are two different things and come off very differently.

“MHA’s fandom is filled to the brim with toxic, no shower taking, furry loving, lgbtq idiots…”

Honestly I added this one because he's right. We're here, we're queer, and we're idiots in the best way possible. However, I think this also says the quiet part out loud when it comes to the hatred towards bnha and it's fandom.

Shipping communities in other fandoms don't get anywhere near as harassed as often as the shipping communities in the bnha fandom despite not being much different. The difference is, a lot of us identify as and are recognized as queer and Hori himself even recognized that the LGBT community especially took a liking to his manga. But, in other fandoms, it's only okay to consider queer ships if they're recognized by the cishet audience.

Most people in the aot fandom don't have an issue with eremin because it was something recognized and memed by straight men, even if it was mostly as a joke. The kny fandom doesn't care about inotan because it was also recognized and memed by straight men. Narusasu doesn't get much hate anymore because the straight men of their fandom also started to recognize the characters weird obsession with each other and it became more difficult to ignore the ship since there was literally multiple accidental kiss scenes--one of the few times where the source material actively encourages shipping. I can keep going too.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, non-shonen animes with majority cishet women as their audience, no one bats an eye at their ships either, because there's not enough men in their communities to tell them they should feel ashamed for their fanon content and their words hold no weight… and there’s a lot less queer people in those fandoms. You see the trend, right? It's almost like queer shipping is perfectly okay and mostly accepted as long as the community is either majority cishet men, or those men grant permission/approval for the specific ships or the piece of media wasn’t “meant for men.” Otherwise, it's seen as gross and cringe.

There was one other community that was kind of similar to bnha in a sense that it was mostly consumed by queer people and cishet men, where there was a lot of discourse on whether the two main characters were queer or not… which is the Buddy Daddies fandom. When the show was airing, those two sides that I talked about earlier were pretty apparent, with people having heated arguments about whether there were queer undertones or not. The cishet men of the fandom didn't give their approval to ship Rei and Kazuki, so it became an issue. Same with JJK now, more so with itafushi though. SatoSugu was given a somewhat stamp of approval but itafushi is still seen as taboo.

However, for some reason, every queer ship and character (even if it's canon) in bnha is seen as something shameful to recognize which I think is very telling considering how large the queer and disabled part of the fandom is. Minorities are being punished for relating to a manga with discrimination as one of it's core themes. Do what you want with that...

“…hate-mail just pushed him over the edge so he just scrapped everything just as punishment to spite them…”

This kind of references rumors from a few years ago about the shipping community sending hate mail and death threats towards Horikoshi and everyone just running with it without doing their research.

Horikoshi did receive death threats but it was about Dr.Garaki's original name which you can read about here. It was mostly the eastern side of the fandom being aggressive, even going as far as posting videos of them burning the volume where Garaki's name was revealed which isn't okay. However, everyone blamed it on the western shipping community... for whatever reason...

There was another instance where people in the western fandom started sending Horikoshi death threats on his twitter because of a chapter about Endeavor getting attacked by Dabi and an Nomu and the Todo family being worried about him, people claiming that Hori "deserved to die" for romanticizing and glorifying abuse (when that wasn't at all the case, I'm genuinely confused on how they interpreted that...). This came out six years ago but somehow is still narrowed down to the queer community and women being toxic... like what? Do you see my point now of it feeling like we need to be granted permission to do certain things in fandom if we don't want to be punished?

Also who was Hori punishing by not confirming any ships? If anything, I’ve seen most shippers appreciative than not…

II: Ochako Uraraka and her relationship with Izuku Midoriya

Back to that point about misogyny that I mentioned earlier...

"...I would have lowkey wish we got to see deku and ochaco end up together since their relationship was hinted from the beginning..."

Quick warning... this is gonna be a long point.

Yes, they were attracted to each other at the beginning, no one is denying that. No one is denying Ochako’s crush either. Izuku’s nervous around her for the first like 50-ish chapters because he's still used to having friends (especially a girl. If you think about it, if his childhood friends were the only friends he had ever had before getting shunned by his community, then he had never had a girl as a friend before... ever) but their relationship eventually mellows out into a normal friendship. Given Ochako and Toga's arc, I don't think Izuocha was ever destined to end romantically.

Toga was desperate to be loved by someone who accepted her for who she was while Ochako was desperate to be able to show love to someone who she truly admired. Ochako wanted to be like Deku and tried for a while until she realized that she couldn’t and shouldn’t want to be like Deku. She thinks he’s amazing but she realizes that she can’t strive to be like him because she’s already like him but wants to change.

(this is kind of off topic but I just want to point out what Ochako said about Toga being sad about not being able to totally become Jin. Correct me if I'm remembering wrong but, Toga was only able to ever transform into Ochako completely, quirk and all. I think there's an analogy there, where her being able to be just like someone possibly means she's in love with them but she convinces herself that she loves everyone equally. I think it's supposed to be saying that "even though you can't be him completely, doesn't mean you don't love him, you just don't love him in the way you thought you did" and I think Ochako realizes that because she possibly had the same realization with Izuku. Becoming him didn't work out for her because she didn't love him the way others told her she did... I guess it wasn't off topic... oh well.)

The highlighted parts can apply to Ochako too if you replace “bloodlust” with “envy”. She suffered the same issue that Toga did with other people telling her how and who to love which made her feel like she was supposed to be jealous.

She didn't like these feelings of jealousy, so she began to unintentionally be like Deku and hide them. I don't think she ever had an issue with loving Deku but she had an issue with the way she convinced herself of how she loved Deku made her feel. It made her feel like she was hiding something because I think she felt conflicted for not loving him the way everyone expected her to. All the way up to her final fight with Toga, we were only getting intel about her crush from other characters. Not her.

There's a lot of Mina just telling her what her feelings are despite Mina canonically not knowing much about love. Her crush has always been projected onto her which is why she's able to relate to Toga so well and wants to be more like her since Toga is able to live as herself so comfortably and broke away from conformity and what's expected of her.

Ochako's crush is only there because it's expected to be and her arc is meant to prove that she can be more than just the MCs love interest. Ochako's projected crush is Horikoshi trying to prove a point about basic shonen tropes which he's done time and time again throughout the story. SHE WANTS TO LIVE AND LOVE HOW SHE PLEASES WITHOUT SOCIETY TELLING HER HOW TO JUST LIKE TOGA WAS ABLE TO DO! I WILL KEEP SAYING IT UNTIL MY THROAT IS RAW AND DUDEBROS BEGIN TO FINALLY UNDERSTAND AND NOT VIEW FEMALE CHARACTERS AS NOTHING MORE THAN EYE CANDY FOR THE MALE CHARACTERS!!!

In the epilogue. she hides her feelings with a smile because she doesn't want to worry anyone (sound familiar?) so it only makes sense that it was Deku who pushed her to let out her feelings despite not practicing what he preaches. So, she embraced her inner Himiko and let out her feelings with her whole face. Those feeling just weren't for Deku... and they shouldn't have to be.

I genuinely feel like (especially with the way dudebros hate queer ships in this fandom) if Ochako was a boy, her arc wouldn't have been so widely misinterpreted. Because if he had talked about how amazing Izuku was and Mina came in and still said "It's love!" most fans would've taken it as a joke and/or even going as far as pointing out that the crush wasn't real because he didn't actually admit to it and it was projected onto him by other characters. But, the world ain't ready for that conversation.

"...I saw it as the fandom tryn to force their ships into the story 100% ruining key moments..."

I mainly added this quote because I thought it was so absurd. How do you see class-a coming to support Ochako as "omg it's the fandom forcing their agenda and controlling Hori through mind control to force their ships into the story and ruin this key moment,"??? Like, is it really so unthinkable that Horikoshi can have creative freedom outside the norm of treating girl characters as a trophy for the MC? You expected Izuku to marry her on the spot while she's having a mental breakdown? It's just... anyways...

III: Old-Gen Shonen Homoeroticism and it's Relation with Internalized Misogyny and how New-Gen is Changing That

The Shonen genre - especially old gen - is notorious for it's accidental misogyny, queerphobia, and racism. It got to the point where it's just kind of expected at this point.

The main one is usually misogyny. A lot of shonen mangaka like to write women as nothing more than eye candy and when they are actually given a personality and power, their character arcs are suddenly ignored/neglected and turned back into eye candy. Take Tsunade and Nezuko for example. We're told that they're important and powerful and yet they rarely do anything and almost never get important speaking lines and when we get to see them in action, the author makes sure to highlight certain parts of their bodies. Nezuko I think is an especially obvious one, being literally muzzled for most of the story, and when she powers up, she grows up and is suddenly given huge boobs...

Almost every shonen girls' character arcs revolves around a man and if not, then their existence is for the sake of a male character. I will say, I havent watched much shonen because of this aspect that's always apparent, but almost every older shonen I've watched, read, or seen other people talk about, it rears its ugly head at least once.

Because of that, most love interests weren’t given enough personality to actually form a meaningful relationship with the MC that the audience - especially female and queer audiences - can connect to. More often than not, it’s “I like her cuz she’s pretty” or “I like her cuz she likes me” and it’s irritating. And since these relationships are so shallow, authors are forced to create an interesting bond between the MC and a different character which usually ends up being the deuteragonist who is usually another boy more often than not. And boys in media written “for boys” are almost never neglected the way a girl would be, which is a sad truth.

These relationships almost always end up feeling like they’re passed the point of friendship and because of that, a lot of women and queer people end up shipping them instead of the canon love interest. Because their relationship being romantic actually makes sense most of the time.

BakuDeku, Eremin, KilluaGon, NaruSasu, ItaFushi, SatoSugu, IsaBachi, HideKan, GenoSai, LawLight, the list can go on for fucking ever.

However, in bnha and BakuDeku’s case, especially when the “canon” relationship with the “canon” love interest wasn’t really developed at all, and we never got a hint from Deku that he liked her, I don’t think this homoeroticism wasn’t intentional. Like with a lot of new-gen, there wasn’t really blatant misogyny towards the “love interest” present to explain away the closeness between the two male leads.

All of the roles a love interest would usually have, were given to Katsuki. He was damseled for Deku to save, he was Deku’s biggest cheerleader, he risked his life to save Deku, he died in Izuku’s honor, he showed up for Izuku when no one else thought to, he showed up to his hospital room and cried over the condition he was in, and then he devoted nearly a decade of his life trying to bring Izuku’s dream back into fruition… He cares so fucking much and Izuku cares right back. And no one can convince me that it was accidentally gay, because Horikoshi literally felt the need to tell AND remind us that Katsuki doesn’t like girls. Plus, like I said before, all of that was done without neglecting Uraraka’s character arc.

But even though all of that is in text, I think shonen bros just expect it while also expecting the main girl and boy to be together… because that’s how it always used to be. It wasn’t until new-gen - starting with mha - started to purposely parody dated shonen tropes and twisting them into their own stories that shonen bros began to feel threatened by queer ships. Because they know that there’s actually a chance of them happening now, and I feel like IzuOcha not being canonized is the beginning of a new trend. And misogynistic anime fans already hate it.

Conclusion - TLDR

uh idk what to say here.

In conclusion, fandom culture kinda sucks because of unexpected reasons, Ochako’s character arc is ignored for the sake of men wanting her to be Izuku’s prize and it’s irritating as fuck, and I think previously accidental homoeroticism in old-gen shonen is becoming purposeful in new-gen shonen as new-gen slowly becomes more progressive and less misogynistic. Oh and bkdk canon ig (I don’t think I’ve ever said that before, strangely enough…)

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Lol.

This will be short. I’ll go on a little tangent but I’ll tie this back to Jungkook and BTS at the end.

You know, I was mostly ambivalent about the feud between HYBE and Min Heejin until I heard her call Bang Sihyuk and his sycophants “bastards” for ‘overpaying for garbage and forcing everyone to eat it because they think the price makes the music good.’ - I’m paraphrasing a bit because her language was more crude. That made me sit up a bit, because her sentiments mirrored my thoughts about the direction Bang Sihyuk has been taking the company in for some time now.

Another random connection is that, to me at least, it seems clear BigHit is still trying to make the HYBE America investment worth it, given:

1. The unnecessarily long credit lists filled with Scooter-linked writers that appear to have become a fixture of most HYBE releases. Bang PD is clearly taking advantage of Scooter’s connections although it’s yet to yield any significant improvement in music quality, and in terms of chart performance the results are mixed at best;

2. The fact that in addition to HYBE paying US$1.05 Billion in cash for Scooter’s company, essentially overpaying for Ithaca Holdings by consensus estimates (a deal Min Heejin also openly criticized as being hare-brained), HYBE America still generated hundreds of millions of dollars in losses as of the last fiscal year, two years after the acquisition was finalized.

But this is old news, we all knew that.

The thing about Min Heejin’s comments that concerned me is that, despite what is now clearly an underperforming investment both in terms of Scooter Braun himself and the man at HYBE that arranged the deal in the first place, Lee Jae-sang, rather than work to correct course and minimize losses, Bang Sihyuk appears to be doubling down on the deal by rewarding these two men in particular with more music and business opportunities within HYBE, even if the music quality suffers as a result, even if HYBE continues overpaying for shit, and even if the artists/idols are negatively impacted in the process. And according to Min Heejin, one big reason Bang Sihyuk allows it is because those men are adept at greasing his arse and eating it out.

Basically, it’s become an expensive joke. But he’s brute forcing the deal to work because so long as BTS is involved and so ARMYs are involved, it’s a joke that Bang PD is guaranteed to take laughing all the way to the bank.

This is where I say I realized shortly after Jungkook’s fan song for Festa was announced, that I wasn’t excited to hear it. I’m saying this only because now that the song is out, it’s confirmed everything I expected. And also because that apathetic feeling was so at odds with how I’ve been feeling about Jungkook as a person for the last year. If it’s not been clear from my reblogs and gush posts, I’ve been spending the better part of this hiatus loving Jungkook extremely. Jungkook is an empathetic songwriter, an emotive vocalist, a talented producer.

But nothing about Never Let Go is exciting. Who wants to listen to a fan song written by people who’ve never had fans? And on top of that, Jungkook is making less money from that song than any fan song he’s written before. Meaning, the song is mediocre, it feels blatantly insincere in ways only a crowdsourced fan song can be, and Jungkook has to split his revenue from the song with about 10 white people. Just look at this.

I’m actually laughing typing this out, but this turn of events is at least a little tragic.

Golden worked as a concept album because it was a collection of songs Jungkook felt represented his taste, he could take on the challenge of putting out a full English album with some help from the writers, and he showcased new vocal techniques and styles that only showed an evolution from his prior work in BTS. The songs themselves were just okay, good decent pop, but as a collection it worked.

Everything about Never Let Go feels almost audaciously soulless. Not quite a slap on the face but it’s like someone coming all up in your face with a bad case of halitosis and their nose barely touching yours, daring you to do something about it.

I have no issue with HYBE working with Scooter-linked writers or producers if it means something actually good comes of it. But it seems HYBE seems to believe their work is better simply because they slap on as many foreign names in the credits as they can fit. It betrays a worrying mentality about the head honchos in the company. Looking at the peak quality in FACE by Jimin, or in Right Place, Wrong Person by RM, which included acclaimed Korean, other Asian, and Black talent supposedly hand-picked by Jimin and Joon themselves, it’s clear HYBE has access to remarkable home-grown and foreign talent that could improve the work of the members. But what I’m seeing with too much frequency is HYBE picking off the bottom of the barrel in the unending list of Scooter’s contractors and otherwise choosing to do the bare minimum.

And that’s how we end up with a Festa fan song with a topline that sounds like an AI-generated jingle written by a soccer team of hired help.

Or idk, maybe I’m being just a bit too full of it. Maybe I’ve been brainwashed by the witch Min Heejin, maybe this was just one more song Jungkook worked on with his Golden team as he had no time to write a proper fan song, nothing more. And maybe as a silver lining, there are no glaring grammatical errors though I found the ones in My You very charming, and honestly part of the appeal. To hear the way Jungkook sees the fans who have been with him till now, even if in English it didn’t quite make sense.

I said this would be short but I’ve rambled, as usual. Sorry for that. When I started out writing this post, I did intend to keep it short.

To end things on a somewhat lighter note, for me the only thing I’m excited about this Festa, is SeokJin coming back. I’ll be working on a deal during the fanmeet so I didn’t bother participating in the raffle, but I’m happy for the ARMYs who get the opportunity to hug Jin, and for Jin who gets to spend time with his fans after so long. With him returning, things are starting to feel more right, even though there are worrying signs in high places. We’ve got about 1 year left to endure most of the members enlisted and then, the crew will be rounded up again.

Now more than ever, I find myself looking forward to that.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for bitching about fics I dislike on my blog?

as a foreword, this is kind of a non-issue and no one's ever told me to stop, but I'm curious what other people think of fandom etiquette.

the fandom: a fairly small one. 2.4k fics on ao3 small. I recognize most people posting in its tumblr tag small. if I tell you the name of the source you'd almost definitely be able to find me small.

the source: pornographic, which means everyone involved is or should be an adult. it's BL with a switch MC, but the fandom overwhelmingly prefers bottom MC/top LIs (love interests), to the point where I've had people be astonishingly rude to me because my favorite character is a bottom LI and some of my friends have been outright harassed for the same. I used to not care about sex positions in the slightest, but now when I see bottom MC fanworks I can't help but remember how poorly I was treated.

the fics: wildly and inexplicably popular, even though they are, frankly, poorly written. it's eternal bottom MC turned up to 11, complete with copious amounts of OOCness in order to turn every ship into the worst ye olde yaoi gender roles dynamic you can imagine. it's things like MC, canonically a 23yo plank of a dudeguy, being written as a big titted milf in his 40s (which is made more confusing by the fact that one of the LIs is already a big titted milf). it's also things like the MC being written as disliking sex and having to be coerced into it when one of the most charming things about him is that he's a hilarious sex pest, or writing the LIs sexually harassing the MC when they really would never do that. I've likened it to replacing the characters with OCs that share the same name and my friends have agreed with me. I'm honestly convinced that the author and his readers don't actually like any of the characters if they feel the need to change everyone so thoroughly.

why I might be an asshole: it's assholish to hate on free fanworks, and I've bitched about these fics on my public tumblr blog. the fandom is small enough that there's a non-zero chance of it getting back to the author and a reasonable chance that fans of the fics have seen my bitching. I'm probably projecting the hostility I've received onto someone who's done absolutely nothing to me, and I am absolutely just straight up jealous that their fics get better stats than mine. I may also be being an asshole to myself, because being critical of other people's fics has made my hypercritical of my own.

why I don't think I'm an asshole: I think everyone has the right to be bad at things, but I also think everyone has the right to be a little hater. I don't put the fandom tag on these posts; they stay on my blog and my blog alone, and if later on I feel like I was unfairly vitriolic I'll delete the posts. I only post on tumblr because I'm certain the author in question only uses twitter, which dramatically lowers the odds of him stumbling across my posts. the fics are so popular that it's definitely possible that their fans would see my posts, but I think it's unlikely that they'd bother looking at my blog because 99% of my posts are about one of the bottom LIs. I have never and would never leave comments on the fics themselves, and I generally try to keep the bitchy posts to a minimum; it's far from a constant thing.

tl;dr - I publicly bitch about fics that (in my opinion) are poorly written and extremely OOC, under the assumption that it's unlikely the author would ever see it. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[what-even-is-thiss]

I think New Vegas and the original fallout team in general have some major and consistent issues with their writing that a lot of people just like skip over. And me pointing that out isn’t me saying the games are bad. Media is a product of the time it’s made in. They write like typical head in the sand don’t know when they’re being offensive 90s era tv writers a lot of the time.

But also this is one of those media franchises where if you criticize certain things about it even a little bit you need to put in five million caveats so the fanboys don’t come crawling out of your walls.

You can see almost everyone online who criticizes Fallout, Fallout 2, and Fallout New Vegas attempting to put up a shield preemptively because the people who prefer those games ooohhhhh baby baby you can feel their fingers reaching for the comment section before you’ve finished your sentence.

But I can’t shut up about the things I notice about the media I consume. I’m a queer writer with an English degree. I’ve been trained to notice things and I think there’s a lot of things out there worth discussing and critiquing even when it comes to media that most people agree is generally good.

Your favorite work of art is not immune to perpetuating biases whether on purpose or by accident. New Vegas for example has a serious noble savage problem. All of these games have issues when it comes to their “low intelligence” dialogue options. Yes they can be funny but the biases within them are also worth looking at. Why do you find them to be funny? Is this game actually truly doing a good job of humanizing the enemy? Is this game accidentally advocating for eugenics? Is this game advocating for torture? What assumptions are the writers making here?

Pretty much everything out there that you’ll ever read, watch, or play has some form of issue with it. Likely my own work has issues in it that I don’t see.

Even if something is good, even if something is timeless, revolutionary, something you’re proud of, in love with, it’s still worth looking at closely. Sometimes you don’t realize when you’re being manipulated. Sometimes you don’t realize what assumptions you just accept as fact.

Critique doesn’t mean condemnation. It’s a part of a healthy media diet. It’s fine to just enjoy things but someone digging deep into the problems with the things you enjoy doesn’t mean that you need to defend those problems or that you’re being attacked. You have every right to turn off your brain when consuming art. But just because that’s how you choose to go about it doesn’t mean it’s not that deep.

[utilitycaster]

In thinking about the new information we've recently learned about the gods of Exandria, I started thinking about epic fantasy novels. The thing is, Exandria's deity lore is not actually terribly unique. This isn't a bad thing! But the idea of an idyllic age when gods were not just powerful but present and united; the fall of one (or many) gods and an ensuing devastation this causes; and the gods subsequently withdrawing or diminishing is a very, very common one in fantasy (and, to be totally honest, world religion). Similarly, the idea of a much more advanced age that has since passed into distant memory is also an extremely common trope. I think it's less common to have both of these tropes working in tandem though certainly not unheard of (hello, Wheel of Time), and the nature of the storytelling method in effect here means that the fallen advanced civilization is more thoroughly developed in the worldbuilding than it is in many other stories, but none of this is a wildly new concept.

I want to talk about genre, medium, and actual play, which is sort of both and sort of neither. I think people talking about actual play tend to mash all three of these things together when they really shouldn't.

(this is a long one so it's under a cut to not wreck your dash)

The genre of Critical Role's main campaigns is heroic fantasy, which I know I've covered in the past, and of epic scale. This is honestly pretty typical of D&D. NADDPod (especially Bahumia) and TAZ Balance and Graduation are also arguably within this same broad genre, just more comedic and looser with aspects of the worldbuilding.

Despite the fact that Brennan is very well-versed in fantasy novels, D20's main deal is that it's not classic heroic fantasy. I think this is actually a bigger factor in why people prefer CR to D20 than many people think. The shorter length is definitely another factor (though that too feels almost related - the critically acclaimed indie comic run to Critical Role's series of doorstopper novels) but Dimension 20, while it comments on classic heroic fantasy with Fantasy High and Escape from the Bloodkeep, only ever dips into anything actually approaching that genre with the Game of Thrones-inspired low fantasy seasons and, funnily enough, with the Dungeons and Drag Queens miniseries. Otherwise, it's telling school stories, urban fantasy, space operas, heists, murder mysteries, comedies of manners, and action-adventure. Similarly, TAZ Steeplechase and Amnesty very much aren't of this genre. Critical Role meanwhile touches on supernatural horror with Candela Obscura.

Actual Play is a means of telling a story, and typically the system at least puts in place the general expectations of what can be done within the improv. Some systems (such as Candela Obscura or Blades in the Dark) set a particular genre; others, like D&D, favor one but permit a good degree of flexibility. Actual Play is not really the same as genre, as discussed above; D20 genre hops quite readily, as does The Adventure Zone, even while using the same TTRPG systems.

Finally, there's medium. This one is easy. Critical Role and D20 are filmed shows (though are available as podcasts); so is, to give a non-Actual Play example, The Bear. NADDPod and TAZ are podcasts. So are (for example) The Silt Verses and Midst.

The reason I've outlined all of the above is to say that I think people tend to assume simply being actual play is somehow closer than sharing genre. This is also to an extent true for longform fiction podcasts (though it is less true for TV and books). I think this has led to an influx of fans of actual play (and, tbh, podcasts) who aren't familiar with the genres within which actual play shows are working.

I do not say this to gatekeep (though honestly, gatekeeping is both not inherently bad and also, not possible in this context). It's more of an exploration of what I think may be a reason why, particularly in the Critical Role fandom, it feels some of the Campaign 3 opinions feel somewhat half-baked.

You can be a fan of heroic fantasy and enjoy actual play but not actually be terribly into actual play that isn't heroic fantasy. I think some people who loved Critical Role Campaign 1 but nothing after that and no other actual play fit into that category. I think Campaign 1's fandom was, indeed, heavily skewed towards fans of fantasy and fans of D&D (as a venue to roleplay one's own fantasy story and as a game itself heavily shaped by heroic fantasy fiction) more so than anything else. If you like, say, The Kingkiller Chronicles or the Stormlight Archives or the Wheel of Time or Lord of the Rings? You might like Critical Role.

By 2018, and definitely by 2019-2020, the landscape had changed, and the attitude was much more one of "if you like this actual play, you'll like this one" which is actually...nowhere near as true, in my mind, as recommendations based on genre. I think this is also when people started folding in "longform speculative fiction podcasts in general" which to be honest was already an issue with the medium of longform fiction podcasts. Wolf 359, The Silt Verses, Midst, The Penumbra Podcast, and any season of NADDPod are all longform, plot-based speculative fiction podcasts with queer representation, but that doesn't actually mean someone who likes one will like another. (Also? Queer rep? Gets treated like podcasts or actual play, to be honest. It's extremely possible to love only one of The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand, The Woods All Black, and The Priory of the Orange Tree despite all of these being novels with queer relationships, yet a lot of the time Queer Rep is treated as a genre, an "if you like this, you'll like that!")

I think it is true that there are people who enjoy actual play on a fairly general level (myself included), and with podcasts especially I think there are people who enjoy fiction delivered in this manner and people who have some difficulty with it. But I think there's a tendency to push people who like one actual play towards other actual play when they may be more interested in longform audio fiction, scripted or not; or might be inclined towards a particular genre. To go back to the examples I've given, someone who likes Candela Obscura might find The Silt Verses and The Woods All Black more appealing than, for example, Fantasy High, despite that also being filmed actual play, because the latter two are also supernatural horror with exploration of class.

Because actual play, in its weird not a medium, not a genre, but kind of both space is, well, in between spaces, it gets treated as the most specific element of works of fiction when that's not always true. The consequences, therefore, end up being twofold. You get people who come to AP series because they liked another one that doesn't actually have a ton in common, and it ends up hit or miss (this is one of my theories why the D20 fandom can be extremely weird about Critical Role; because it was pushed on them when it's really not what they're into, which is neither their nor CR's fault); and you get people coming to specific actual plays and enjoying them without much familiarity with their genres, which I think is behind some of the weirder C3 takes since C3 is arguably the first campaign that truly began after Actual Play began to be treated as a genre.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Published May 13, 2024

Governments and certain key opinion formers aren’t being open and honest about the risks associated with COVID-19 and their actions will have long-term consequences for public health and trust in science.

One of the criticisms often leveled at members of the Covid-cautious community is that they believe ‘everything is Covid.’ Critics say there is an element of alarmism or neurosis in the concerns this community has about COVID-19 because no pathogen could cause all the harms being laid at its door.

Unfortunately, the newest widely circulating pathogen in the human population uses a broadly expressed ACE2 receptor to infect cells1, meaning it can damage almost any part of the body2. Prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, few people believed coronaviruses could linger in the body, but members of the John Snow Project outlined their concerns in 2021 because there was extensive evidence going back decades to suggest coronaviruses could persist3,4. These concerns have since been shown to be justified, with numerous studies now demonstrating prolonged viral persistence and immune activation5-9.

The combination of a widely expressed receptor and persistent infection means the acute and long-term effects of SARS-CoV-2, the virus which causes COVID-19, can be unpredictable10.

SARS-CoV-2 has also been shown to harm the immune system in various ways11-14, many of which are common to other pathogens. This harm seems to have increased susceptibility to other pathogens such as dengue15 and strep A16,17.

We’ve previously written about government efforts to return to pre-2020 norms and how official messaging that we must all assess our own level of risk has been interpreted by most people to mean that it is safe to engage with the world in the same way one would have done in 2019 and that there will be no additional risk in doing so18.

Most people have resumed pre-pandemic behaviours, but there has been an increase in general ill-health, which can be demonstrated in rising levels of long-term illness19, disability20,21, GP appointments22, chronic absence among school pupils23-27, rising absence among teachers28 and worker shortages in a wide range of industries29. Many commentators theorize about the reasons for these phenomena, blaming a mysterious malaise among workers, indulgent or irresponsible parents, or post-lockdown laziness.

Aiding this apparent mystery is the rather bizarre way in which official figures are reported. A prominent Covid-cautious commentator pointed this out in a thread on X in relation to the UK Office of National Statistics figures on Long Covid30. The ONS analysis states, “The majority of people self-reporting long COVID experienced symptoms over two years previously,” but the way the data is presented skews the risk towards historic Covid-19 cases by using uneven time intervals, a practice which is in breach of UK government policy on how to present time series data31. However, when the data is presented as close to correctly as the raw data allows, the risk of developing Long Covid from a COVID-19 infection seems to remain relatively constant.

Another criticism leveled at the Covid-cautious community is that members are overstating the risk of Long Covid. High quality studies from all over the world point to the very real and significant risk of Long Covid32-34, and there is now evidence to suggest the risk of Long Covid rises with each subsequent infection35.

If anything, Long Covid prevalence is likely to be understated because of the dearth of public health information from official sources. There are still some people who are surprised they can be reinfected by SARS-CoV-2. There are others who know about the risk of reinfection but who falsely believe each subsequent infection will be milder. There are yet more who do not know each infection can carry a risk of long-term illness.

When we get into specifics, how many people know COVID-19 infection can cause headaches and migraines weeks or months later36,37? Or that it can cause fainting38,39? Nausea40? Heart attacks41,42? Cardiac complications in adults and children43,44? Embolisms45? ADHD-like symptoms46,47? Neurological issues48,49? How many people are suffering the long-term sequelae of COVID-19 infection but not drawing the causal link and instead ascribing their new conditions to bad luck or aging?

We’ve previously written about governments creating the space for antivaxx messaging to thrive by not correctly reporting the risks of COVID-19 infection29, but there are greater threats. Every time a Covid-minimizer says, “There’s nothing to worry about, look at everybody else out there living their lives, just resume your old ways,” they are undermining faith in public health measures because their reassurance is based not on the scientific evidence but on instinct, hope and, possibly, a vested interest in maintaining the status quo because they staked their professional credibility on infections being protective. Science and public health progress when we follow the evidence, not when we hold hunches and opinions in higher esteem than evidence.

The huge rise in dengue50, coupled with the evidence that dengue virus uses SARS-CoV-2 antibodies to enhance infection15 and the correlation of COVID-19 cases to dengue cases51 suggests there is an interplay between the pathogens that hasn’t been fully understood. Whooping cough is surging in the UK, with cases up 3,800% on previous years52-55, and adults who have been previously vaccinated or infected are now falling seriously ill. Similar surges have been seen in other countries, and while those who like to blame anything-but-Covid point the finger at lockdowns, which ended more than three years ago in most countries, sensible people would like to understand the interplay between COVID-19 infection and susceptibility to other pathogens.

It would only make sense to pursue ignorance if there was nothing that could be done about COVID-19, but we know that clean air policies can reduce the risk of all infections56, be they bacterial, viral or fungal. The “just get on with it” messaging of those who want people to forget about COVID-19 is a celebration of the sort of ignorance that has slowed and stalled human progress throughout history.

If there is a business case for investment in engineering and architecture that will improve human health, we need to properly understand the harms caused by COVID-19. Sweeping it under the rug, shouting down those with legitimate concerns, pretending the virus doesn’t exist, massaging data to make it appear things are safe, are all counter to this understanding.

It seems those with means have already decided their health will benefit from clean air57, and advanced ventilation and filtration systems are the latest must-have addition to high-end properties58, which suggests there is also an issue of equity involved in understanding COVID-19. The advancement of human knowledge has always empowered the general population, which is why it has often been resisted by those in power. Keep that in mind the next time someone says, “Stop worrying. Just get on with it.” They want your ignorance and incur no cost if you are harmed by being repeatedly infected by COVID-19 or any other pathogen that might be surging in its wake.

For information on how you can protect yourself from COVID-19 infection, please click here.

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise) this chapter specifically mentions suicide.

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  3 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: Rafayel’s confessions about his past mirror the turmoil you're trying to hide.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

You couldn’t get the image of him out of your head. Pale and sculpted, so beautiful - it almost left you numb. The way your name sounded when it passed his lips. 

So you needed a distraction. After the festival, you walked back to Talias and into the garage and demanded that Rafayel hang out with you. 

Now, the two of you sat together on the lake dock. A beer was nestled between the cleft of your thighs. The night around you came alive as the golden orange sky faded to a deep lavender of early evening. It was serene, as so many days from long gone used to be. The moon above was just starting to peak around the tops of the trees. 

The tension in your body eased into the small space of solitude as Rafayel sat back, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. 

“It’s good that you still try, you know.” He chuckled and brought his bottle to his lips. “To be normal.” 

You shrugged a bit, titling your beer as you watched the water, the shimmering waves a flickering beacon. “It doesn’t feel that way sometimes. To feel or think normal, I mean.” 

Rafayel said nothing, reaching inside the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a joint, bringing it to his lips and lighting it with a practiced motion. He took a hit and passed it to you. Gladly accepting, you inhaled deeply. The burn crept through your system with lightning speed, and your body immediately felt lighter. 

“Coming home should help ease some of the chaos in my mind.” You admitted with a laugh, one that didn’t quite hide the pain as you shook your head. “I don’t feel normal, I’m not working, Dad is working all the time…Everything is just…like…”

Wind gushed through the trees above, leaves dancing like wind chimes with gentle voices. This area was once an escape, but you wondered how much longer you would feel that nostalgia. 

“I tried to kill myself.” Rafayel blurted out. Blunt. Awkward, tense silence filled the space between you both until the moment passed and realization flooded you. If you had sipped your beer, it would have been spat everywhere. Your neck could have snapped in half if you swung it around further when you looked back at him. 

“What - oh my God.” Your shock doubled. “Like, recently?” 

Rafayels smile was soft as he looked out toward the lake, taking another hit of the joint and exhaling slowly. “More than a year ago.” He glanced up at the sky briefly before continuing. “I was in Paris, surrounded by all these gorgeous people with those blue Parisian veins and expensive fragrances. At first, I was in New York, and I thought I belonged there until I started to feel insignificant. So I took all my money and got a one-way ticket for as far away as possible.” 

“For your art? Or -”

“Not exactly.” Rafayel said, “I was a mess. Dad will never get out of the Navy, and Mom was set on moving to Canada after the divorce, so I went somewhere with more people, you know?” 

“And you still felt alone, so you went to Paris?” You asked. 

“Pretty much. I met this guy in Paris, Jean.” He paused, his eyes narrowing towards the water as if he were scrutinizing it or the memory of the name he brought up. “We were a toxic pair. Took whatever we could get our hands on and a bunch of other shit.” 

Rafayel smirked and turned towards you, pointing a finger from the hand still holding the joint. “You wouldn’t have recognized me. Black suits, slick shoes. Sometimes, leopard skin shirts. Some real crazy styles to go with a real major fuckboy lifestyle.” 

You snorted at the thought, and he glared at you, albeit playfully, as you quickly said. “Never, Raf. I would never have thought that.” 

Rafayel waved his hand as if dismissing your notion outright. “Really! I partied, got high, made sure I screwed just one more person so maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a piece of trash. All the while, here I was, painting and drawing. Filling notebooks and pouring everything else of myself into the canvas - only for none of it to matter. All this talent and emotion it took to create something - the only person ever appreciative was Jean.” 

“So what happened?” You asked, and your question seemed to give Rafayel pause.

He snubbed the joint out carefully. Then, he began to roll up the sleeve of his sweater, revealing deep, angry-looking scars on his wrist. They ran along the outside of his forearm, criss-crossed. Large and white and almost ugly. When you heard his voice again, it was whispered. “We, uh, we broke up. I kind of lost it.” 

“Oh no…” the words slipped out as you ran your fingertips over his arm. Not grasping or pulling but tracing the lines over his skin. “Raf, I’m so sorry…” 

Rafayel gave you a dry, almost sardonic snort. “Yeah, yeah. I know, sweetheart.” He took his arm back and worked on rolling his sleeve back down. “Got thrown into a psych ward for a few weeks. Therapy, drugs, the whole lot.” 

“What did your parents do when they found out? Bring you back home?”

“Yeah, they figured the woman who helped raise me could at least help straighten me out,” Rafayel said, giving you an almost resigned smile - melancholic. “Aunt Talia keeps trying to get me to go to church and talk to Father Sylus. Saying God can help me get through this.” 

Father Sylus. You frowned as your thoughts became filled with him again. Father Sylus, with fiery red eyes and soft lips, probably had a huge…heart. You looked over at your friend as he continued, brushing some hair out of your face as you tried not to sigh outwardly. 

“But I couldn’t go - I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him because-” he stopped abruptly, hand going to his mouth as he tried to calm a sudden laughing fit. When his composure returned, he looked at you again. “I can’t go because - the man is hot.” 

“What - no! He’s not!” You gasped, torn between offended and thrilled at the flicker of something intense that you felt. A strange jealousy, the kind that curled your stomach and made your cheeks heat rose from within you. And that couldn’t be right. 

“Um, yes, he is.” Rafayel countered, “He is literally sculpted by the hands of the almighty above himself.” 

Laughing a little, you shook your head as you rolled the neck of your beer between your fingers, contemplating your following words. “I - I can’t believe you think a Catholic priest is attractive.”

Who are you trying to kid? 

“It’s the ass. Always the ass.” Rafayel insisted, his voice almost dreamy as he continued to look at you with a straight face. 

You couldn’t help it. Despite the heaviness still hanging around your friend's prior revelation, you erupted into laughter, leaning over to hold your stomach. You suddenly felt light and truly liberated, but you quickly sought to pull yourself back to reality, looking back at Rafayel. 

“I’m sorry you went through all of that, Raf.” You told him, your tone dropping. “But I’m glad you told me.” 

Rafayel groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead and tilting it back. “Talia is going to kill me! Nobody was supposed to know.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you told him immediately, sitting up straighter. “Look, your secrets are sealed, okay? You know me.” 

Rafayel looked like he was struggling to suppress a small smile. “Thanks.” His eyes looked as if he remembered something happy, maybe all the times you both snuck out of school and came down to this lake. “I’m glad you’re back, Y/N, even if I can’t put my finger on what’s going on inside that head of yours.”

You returned home late, shutting the door quietly behind you so as not to disturb the house. In the silence, it reminded you of a time capsule or a painting in a gallery. Everything was displayed perfectly, frozen—perfect, static, as if unable to grow or change. 

When you first came home, your father welcomed you back as if you had never left; inside, this house seemed even fuller than it had when your mother was alive, stuffed with memories—every article placed or hung or draped across surfaces just as she had originally laid them out. 

You went upstairs, turning on the dimmer light to see your bed and the objects in the room. You started by bending your knees to remove your jeans, which made a muffled patter when they landed on the carpet. 

“Just need to sleep.” You whispered to yourself, but the hair on your arms stood upright. Something heavy was weighing on the surface of your skin. Something that felt a lot like… guilt. 

Flopping onto the bed, you unlocked your phone. The missed call from Zayne was still at the top of the list. Something in you faltered. A surge of loneliness and desire that clouded your brain. 

To open that door of temptation that called for him like a beacon. It was an insistent tug, gnawing into your reality. 

You pressed the call button. 

His groggy voice's immediate answer relaxed the coil inside you just a little bit. 

“H-Hey,” you whispered. “Did I wake you?” 

You heard him sniff, a slight shift, and a soft hum. “No. I’m at the hospital tonight.” 

You swallowed, a tingle of fear rushing through your nerves when you sat up. “Oh, I'm sorry, I thought—” You silenced yourself and tried to release a trembling breath. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping your phone even tighter. 

You tried to calm your unease for another few seconds. Eventually, Zayne's voice melted through the receiver, breaking the silence. “Is everything okay?”  

No. Nothing was. The thought of things ever being okay gave you the overwhelming urge to break down crying on the edge of your bed. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have called.” You said, swallowing down the tightening in your throat, ready to hang up before the room started spinning. 

“Y/N, don’t apologize,” he was talking to you; you could hear it. Maybe it was his tired voice that sounded so welcoming and soft, or that someone was showing you an ounce of attention and familiarity. It was a call to an anchor in the storm. 

“Can…can you just talk to me, please?” You gripped the sheets. 

There was a sigh, and then, after a long second, his voice filled your ears once more, echoing deep, “About what?” 

“Something.” 

There was more silence, and his tone was hesitant when he inquired, “Something specific?” 

Trying to soothe your nerves by smoothing your hair, you forced yourself to say, “Tell me why you did it?” 

“Did…what?”

Looking down at your legs, you bit back the anger at the doctor on the other end of the line by pinching your thigh. The sting helped you bite back any trace of bitterness as you spoke, “Cheat on your wife with me. How the fuck did that happen?”

He laughed, a half-amused noise. “What’s wrong? Was your visit to Sunday school unsatisfying?” 

“Zayne.” You whined, feeling anxiety thrum in your chest, “This is serious!” 

Another chuckle, this one almost fond but with an edge of self-deprecation. If it hadn’t been for the occasional hum of the hospital in the background, you could have sworn he was in front of you. His voice was so smooth, and the tone was kind and husky for sleep or lack thereof. 

“I…let myself lose control.” He explained, “My judgment was clouded. And I told you upfront I was married, remember? Those first couple times we saw each other.” 

There was pain, awful, almost stabbing within your chest. You closed your eyes and slumped forward, your head nearly between your knees. “I know.” Your voice was strained. “I know, but I didn’t care. I pretended not to.”

“Well, you deserve better than that, obviously.” He joked, but it sounded playful. Almost teasing. The sound of keys in the background clinked together, the squeak of metal on metal. You wondered what part of the hospital he was off to, probably the cafeteria for coffee. 

“Still,” you leaned further over, eyes closed and breathing slow. “I love you.” 

You could picture his hazel eyes whirling with internal conflict, the tic in his cheek giving away to nervousness. And the thought made the butterflies in your stomach fester. After another bout of silence, broken only by subtle rustling of movement in the background, his voice settled around you. 

“I have to go. I can’t-” he took a breath. “I need to focus right now.” 

There was that awful, aching pain again. One that the hum of the call barely obscured. You swallowed. “Okay. Fine.” 

“Alright.”

“Bye.” You waited, and a soft noise was his response. Was it a chuckle? A groan, an exclamation of pain? It was hard to tell as the call ended, and you slumped face-first into the pillow beside you. 

You cried, desperate and shaking, clinging to the comforter until your hands were sore. Tears slowed as exhaustion crept up, and you fell asleep alone. 

He was a man of faith, an agent of God who set out every morning ready to take on his assigned duties with honor and integrity, and - unfortunately, now he was struggling at the worst possible time. 

Sunlight pierced the thin windows of the rectory, and Sylus stirred in his too-short bed, his feet hanging awkwardly off the end. Sylus stretched and squinted against the unforgiving light. He had been dreaming, he thought, something pleasant? What had it been… 

Sylus tried to remember.

There she was again, in his dreams – mouth gently open, his name on her full lips, her thighs…

Father Sylus gritted his teeth, reminding himself that dreams were not in his control. It was natural to fantasize, and it needn’t define him. He was a man of God.

And this man of God had woken with a nearly painful erection. 

Sylus groaned. He would shower, he thought. The water would relax him, and he could move on with his day, leaving these unwelcome thoughts in the ephemera of his dreams.

Rising from the bed, he stepped across the small room and paused in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. 

Was this how she saw Sylus? How she could see him?

His silver hair was messy, falling in his face. His t-shirt was rumpled, the thin fabric clinging to his admittedly well-conditioned chest. His boxers…

No, she would never see him like this, Sylus reminded himself grimly. Those thoughts were disordered. 

As he turned from the mirror, his gaze landed on the portrait of Saint Augustine that hung on the opposite wall. The portrait depicted the bishop in his later years, with a face lined with wisdom and eyes shining with spiritual conviction. It reminded him of the life Sylus had committed himself to, the higher purpose he served. He tore his gaze away from the painting. 

The woman was a child of God, made in His image. She was more than her body. If Father Sylus felt drawn to her, it must be in a paternal sense. He must focus on her personhood – she had seemed to be doing poorly earlier. Maybe there was some way he could help or guide her to be closer to God.

He sighed. For now, he would focus on the day ahead, taking it one step at a time.

The rectory shower was old. It creaked somewhere deep in the pipes as warm water began to spray from a lime-caked showerhead.

Father Sylus entered the shower and began quickly and efficiently cleaning himself. He admittedly succumbed to minor indulgences like fine soap and hair care products, but he didn’t feel that it was a block to his devotion. It wasn’t vanity per se, more an appreciation of the finer things in God’s creation.

But as Sylus lathered soap on his skin, his erection stayed.

It was maddening. Sylus had to clean himself but… but it felt too good. 

Images of the woman flashed through his mind again. Oh, the things they had done in his dreams… 

His hand began to slide along his shaft, and Sylus grimaced. 

This was wrong, he thought. This was all so very wrong.

Yet as his hand gripped and pulled at him, sliding and squeezing and…

And wasn’t this better than sinning in person? Wasn’t it the lesser of two evils?

Sylus stifled a moan and braced against the shower wall. 

This was just a foible of the human body, he rationalized. He just needed to exorcise this irritating lust from his body. 

He found a punishing rhythm and thought of her, beating his lust into submission.

Then it happened, and for a moment, he felt ecstasy.

Immediately following that, however, he only felt empty. Empty and alone in a too-small shower in a too-small room and destined for a too-small bed.

Father Sylus resolved to pray. 

Tag list: @celestialforce

[rosyronkey]

hi! i wrote an essay about rosy ronkey and her clothes, and i hypothesized what time period i think shes from/inspired by ^^ below if you wanna read more :))

ive been fixated (or had a special interest or whatever you want to call it) on rosy ronkey for a YEAR today. i've always been pretty interested in her outfit from an aesthetically pleasing point of view, but recently i wanted to see if i could find any trends and time periods in the inspirations of her clothes, which is what this essay is about! it’s going to be an explanation of most of her clothes, top to bottom, from what i can assume with the research i've done. i say research, but i probably don’t have the best sources? they’ll be linked below, but it was really more cross-referencing than anything else lol

i reached out to annie montgomerie for comment/criticism, but she’s obviously very busy and i enjoyed my research from a subjective point of view :)

basic specs on rosy (no one else but me cares): looking at rosy, the only zoomorphic, or animal looking, aspect of hers is her head. judging by proportions and cross-referencing, she looks to have the body of an american girl doll. this is just what i’ve noticed, but annie’s most recent stuff is way less anthropomorphized compared to rosy and the group she was made with. looking at annie’s most recent exhibit, hand me downs, every single piece is completely animal, with hand-sculpted claws, paws, wings and hooves. some of these dolls legs still look like american girl doll legs, but most everything else is animalistic. this isn’t important, but i just thought id mention it because artists’ growth over time is cool!

starting with her coat, it looks like a double-breasted red childrens’ coat with two rows of two buttons each. these kinds of coats are still available today, but i could find the closest matches by looking at 1920s childrens’ coats, specifically rothschild coats. the rothschild family has a long and complicated history, but all that’s important to know is that they are new york based (which doesn’t totally fit my assumptions about her; in general i assume all of annie montgomerie’s dolls are british because of her nationality) and they’ve been in business for over 100 years. by cross-referencing the growing style of double-breasted coats in the 1920s, and the style of rothschild childrens’ coats in ads from the time, i feel like it’s easy to assume rosy's character has this coat, or at least was very heavily inspired by it.

a theory i’ve seen before is that the ticket on her coat is a luggage label. these were used during WWII to evacuate british children during the blitz. the history press site says luggage labels listed “name, school and evacuation authority,” and is also where i got most of my information. i want to tentatively deny this theory. i'm pretty sure the ticket is an annie montgomerie staple opposed to a part of rosys' character. she's shown with the tag in the yorkshire sculpture park video, and on gerard way’s website, but she’s missing it in all the photos posted by annie montgomerie herself on facebook and instagram. almost every single annie montgomerie piece on display or for sale has a tag as well. i love this theory, and it’s probably what got me interested in researching her outfit in the first place, but i don’t think i could prove it if i tried.

other than the ticket, she has white roses on the left side of her coat and some smaller twigs? sticks? pinned to her collar. white roses symbolize purity, youthfulness, innocence, and in some contexts, respect for the departed. i couldn’t find any historical photos of children with roses in their outfits, but across the board that was the result i got for their meaning. i can’t discern what she has on her right collar for the life of me, if someone else can figure this out, PLEASE tell me

her dress is pink, with a cinched embroidered waist and a peter pan collar. peter pan collars became popular in the 1920s, and have been a staple of childrens’ dresses since (sources for this one were a few blogs and wikipedia, but also some ads, so i feel pretty confident with it.) some ads for girls’ dresses in the 1920s had the same soft pleats and embroidered waist as seen on rosys’ dress. i don’t think there’s a meaning behind the color, except that it compliments the red coat and her fur.

her stockings are standard, I couldn’t find much special meaning behind them, british children have been wearing stockings forever, and for girls especially, stockings became more popular in the 1920s as dresses got shorter. usually they were sheer and nude, and rosys’ look like the gray kind kids wear today, but i think it’s still period appropriate to an extent. her shoes look like red mary janes for american girl dolls, just more scuffed and dirtied. mary jane shoes themselves have been around for a while (called “bar shoes” originally,) but they got their name in 1904. in one of the first drafts for this, i read the fairy tale “the red shoes” to see if it offered any insight. i thought it’d be fun to relate, but it’s just a popular danish fairy tale, and it was hard for me to entertain the idea for long.

TLDR: i think rosy ronkeys outfit is inspired by british 1920s fashion!

that’s all I have! i apologize if this was underwhelming or overwhelming or whatever, i had no model to base this off of and the only tumblr essays i read are from my friends <3 i hope you enjoyed! i love rosy ronkey!

link to my dumbfuck google doc with all the links and braindump on it :)

[rrcenic]

sorry for posting so much about the neil gaiman thing im very opinionated but heres my general take on neil gaiman (TW FOR S/A AND SU1C1D3!!!!)

good omens fandom please read this. yall need it

i wanna start with: believe victims. it might not be as bad as it was claimed to be bc the reporter was an anti bdsm terf who considers all bdsm 🍇 (including the bdsm w neil), but there was still clearly manipulation, weaponized power imbalance, and dubious consent. even if it wasnt s/a, it was fucked up. neil did some fucked up things

while we dont know if he actually s/ad those women, neil gaiman is clearly flawed

ive seen time and time again that his fans (specifically the good omens fandom) can get so viciously defensive of him that they refuse to see any flaws he has

as someone who was ruthlessly attacked because of neil, i hesitate to give him the benefit of the doub

when i had just turned 13, id just gotten on tumblr. i was thrilled that good omens season 2 was coming out. i was even more thrilled to see neil gaiman on tumblr. so i sent him an ask where i asked if crowley and aziraphale would kiss. i get why that was annoying. he probably got those asks all the time. but i worded it respectfully, and i was genuinely unaware that he was annoyed by this question

he responded to my ask with a multi paragraph callout post talking about how sick of this question he was. harsh, but not necessarily nefarious

the response wasnt the problem. it was that i got so many hate comments and death threats and people telling me i didnt deserve joy and i was ruining neils life and so many fucking anon "kys" asks that i had to quit tumblr. i tried to apologize to neil, i sent him countless apology asks where i begged him to ask people to stop cyber bullying me, but he never responded. it took years before i was able to communicate to him all the hate id received. his response was a basic "sorry for the miscommunication" and that he wished there was a way to convey tone on the internet (someone said "there is! tonetags!!" and he responded with "i dont like those"). the SAME COMMUNITY who told me to kms was suddenly saying "oh neil your such a saint" (THE TERM SAINT WAS USED MULTIPLE TIMES!!!!!) and "this poor ignorant child"

i was a kid and i was bullied off the internet and neil didnt respond to my pleas for forgiveness for almost 2 years. i was also in the most unstable time of my life. i was EXTREMELY suicidal. people telling me to kms deeply affected me

plus he reblogs a ton of "vote blue no matter who" stuff. i dont agree w that statement but i think its okay for people to say if they actively support palestine. but neil gaiman doesnt post about palestine ever other than reblogging posts that say "sure maybe the stuff in palestine is bad but if you dont support biden 100% democracy will crumble!!!" also im pretty sure he never apologized for some older zionist posts

ive seen a lot of stuff where people are saying "hey shhh its okay i see good omens fans getting sad bc of the stuff with neil but its ok!! youre still a good person even if you ignore this issue!!" and like. huh??? i dont think ignoring it makes you evil but its certainly fucked up to not be critical of the media you consume. pretending nothings going on is immature. you all sound like jk rowling fans smh

his general attitude towards fans makes me uncomfortable. ive seen people bare their souls in his asks (all of them start with something along the lines of "oh sir mister gaiman sir i am nothing but a disgusting peon compared to you you saved my life id die for you!!!") and he gives rude cold responses. i mean of course he gets annoyed and of course he gets spam but no one is forcing him to respond to asks. he doesnt seem to care very much??? this doesnt make him a bad person ofcourse but it does give me the ick

summary: even if he didnt s/a those women his fans need to grow up. he is not a pure perfect person. he might not be evil but he makes some extremely damaging choices. hes not a saint and never has been. at the end of the day, hes a rich cishet white man