#and even if it's not; there have been absolutely abhorrent ideas in the past that were held as sacrosanct pillars of society

[medicinemane]

All I'm saying is any rule, any law, any social convention, anything where there's some kind of reprisal for transgressing against it... just make damn sure you're careful with it lest it be used against you

Every freedom you give up in the name of making a better world, really double check it's worth it and narrowly defined

I mean some freedoms are worth giving up, for instance I don't have the freedom to kill people who annoy me, and I shouldn't have that freedom. I lose very little while gaining a great deal both personally and for society as a whole, and there are a lot of places like this where it's 100% worth it to ban something outright

Similarly, there absolutely are reasons to socially shun people, like you don't have to put up with every last thing just to be nice. Influencers who do stuff like harass people to drum up attention or record and post every second of their kid's lives, I don't think we should be engaging with people like that unless it's to keep an eye on them, I think they do a ton of harm

All I'm saying though, is shit like the Patriot Act drummed up support because it was going to protect people, keep people safe... and look what actually happened, look how it's used. It's state surveillance against the people it claimed to protect and that's about it

I'm not gonna tell you which things are wrong to shit on people for, or which policies you should oppose. I don't want you to just mimic what I believe, even if I thought anyone was gonna

I just want you to look at stuff, and think about it, and really decide if that thing you want gone is harmful in a concrete enough way that if you do something to try to remove it, it will only remove that instead of spilling over in to stuff you didn't want it to

I just want you to check in your head if anything you're cracking down on either legally or through social pressure might lead you to losing something you care about down the road if bad actors skew how to interpret things

I'm not saying that's how it's gonna go, I'm just saying think first

[kriegertops]

This is a very long one:

I was going down a tumblr rabbit hole and came across and old Binoe page that had A LOT of Krashlyn content from 2019-late 2022. And I came away with a few observations:

1) Ali and Ash were deeply in love. The pics, videos, events, comments to each other, just their sheer history together is overwhelming, and they looked happy, affectionate and just in sync thruout. This idea that Ash was in an unhappy marriage is ridiculous. Bc nothing she ever posted indicated anything close to that.

2) The early Sloane months were adorable, and their captured family moments were so cute and loving. They absolutely doted on that child. She was the center of their world, and they documented so much of her cuteness, and it reminded me of how fun Ash was during this time, and I *briefly* remembered why I liked her back then.

3) I hadn’t realized that makeup artist Alex had been with them for so long- I thought she was new once they got to NY. But no- she was there on their wedding day and before. Also, forgot how close both A’s were to all the Gotham girls when they first got to the team, and how tight Midge was with the whole family.

4) I was reminded of how much soccer connected them, and how it dominated their lives.

I eventually had to stop scrolling bc I got sad seeing how they used to be.

So what in the heck happened?

1) I think Ash was not at all prepared for retirement. She didn’t really line anything up that would be sustainable employment, and not having that identity as an athlete was overwhelming. I’m guessing she had some mild/severe bouts of depression, and despite having an adorable family, she realized it wasn’t fulfilling her. That probably led her to be mean and resentful of Ali, which progressed into outright anger, and bc she’s at her core a narcissist, she blamed Ali for her own sorry situation.

2) there’s been so much talk of, how did Ali not know things were so bad? Well, after all those YEARS together, Ali probably assumed they would work it out. Even after ash moved out, she might have still had visions of repairing her family. Trust me, no mom willing concedes 50% of their time with their kids without a hard core fight. I think Ali was willing to do the work- she just couldn’t give it everything bc she was trying to f’ing retire.

3) those women had a TIGHT group of friends. For years, very formative years. Megan loved Ash. They were effusive abt their friendship. Reliving all their posts back and forth again signified how telling it is that almost NONE of their friend group publicly supported ash. National teammates, club teammates, outside soccer friends (makeup Alex), preschool families- they all gave her the heisman. They didn’t engage in SM, didn’t post pics, really just dumped her like a bad habit. Divorces happen in friend groups- it can be kinda awkward, but they’re grown adults who can make their own choices. And they all very clearly chose a side. And you wouldn’t do that as a friend unless what you saw was behavior so egregious and abhorrent that you couldn’t in good faith support it. And that’s exactly what happened. Ash recently posted something abt friends who chose her over optics, clearly indicating anger at those old friends. Her and Pinoe were at the same event this week, yet no public pics or any indication they interacted. I’m assuming they did, but in the past we’d see evidence of it. She goes on and on abt her new friend group, but it has to hurt a lot that she lost her old tribe. And people that know both her and Sophia- like a Glennon or Foudy, have given the couple no play at all.

4) While I have absolutely ZERO empathy for Ash, I do think she’s gotten herself into a situation that has lots of complications and might not end the way she expects. How do two self involved love bombers stay together once the newness wears off and they are in the mundane realities of everyday life? Ash has 17+ years left of raising kids. And once the kids are doing events and activities, she won’t be able to bail for a week at a time. And eventually she’s going to need to find work. Courts don’t like parents who don’t pull their weight. I think they got caught up in their infatuation, are bonded over their us vs them mentality right now, and once their feelings come back down to earth, it will be a different reality for them. I don’t really care- I don’t wish them any luck. I just think they have an uphill battle.

And my last musing after all this was about how much deep respect and awe I have for Ali. She was served a complete shit burger in the middle of her retirement season. When she should have been riding high, enjoying her last professional soccer games as a player, she was thrown into the worst chaos a person can be in. I will detest Ashlyn forever for putting her in this situation, and not having the maturity to wait it out with Sophia, and let her former wife have her moment. I think back to that Pinoe game where she and Sophia paraded around and my blood completely boils for Ali. I don’t know what happened between them, but the intentional cruelty and vindictiveness Ash showed is so disgusting, it defies logic. I am so thrilled that Ali has moved on, is thriving and has shed this dead weight from her being. I can’t imagine what she’s gone thru, but to see her unbothered and smiling now is just wonderful. I wish nothing but happy things for her!

Okay, I think that’s it! Thanks for reading my dissertation 🤣

Thank you for this anon!!! I appreciate the time you took to write this cause damn this is long😂🔥 I agree though with your thoughts on the situation and honestly the more we find out the more obvious it becomes that Ashlyn is nothing but a narcissistic cheater and Ali’s a warrior and queen who deserves happiness!

[veevz-drawz]

DoaHD | Entry 1: Trust Me, Family Dinners are the Worst

A/N: This is my first long-form fic so any critique is welcomed!

Taglist: DM if you would like to be added

Masterlist | Next

Pierce the fabric, loop the thread.

“In the three months I’ve mentored her, she has NEVER smiled once,” a furious gargle of sour berries bellowed out. His imposing shadow danced across the dimly lit foyer of Strawberry Mansion, large arms flaring up with his shadow, creating a gust of wind that fueled the candle flames’ indignant intensity. “Not even ONCE!”

A smaller shadow, calm and apologetic, rose up to try quelling the infuriated beast. “Please, Lord Blueberry Raisin Cookie, you have to understand that’s just how she—”

“I WILL HAVE NONE OF IT!” The room shook from Blueberry Raisin Cookie’s hoarse screech, the lights flickered, shrouding everyone in darkness.

Pierce the fabric, loop the thread.

The candles reignite, the beast’s outline smaller than before.

“I have done nothing, NOTHING, but try to help Miss Strawberry Tea Cookie grow as a designer,” Blueberry Raisin Cookie continued. “Yet I NEVER received a word of appreciation or even a HINT of positive emotion!”

 Pierce the fabric, loop the thread.

“She’s too opinionated, and way too stubborn too!” He rambled, however his fury was beginning to simmer down to the low boil of molten sugar. 

“I refuse to mentor her any longer.”

“...I understand, Lord Blueberry Raisin Cookie,” the calm shadow resigned, bowing and overcasting his silhouette. “Have a good rest of your evening.”

Loop back down, turn it around, pull through— taut.

The servants scrambled to open the mansion’s grand doors, averting their gazes as Blueberry Raisin Cookie stormed out. However, he stopped right at the entrance, head perking up as he remembered something.

“A little piece of advice from me,” he said, turning his head back. Even in the safety of the stairwell’s dense shadows, his moss green gaze pierced through Strawberry Tea Cookie’s very dough, as if he knew she was hiding there. “I would suggest correcting your daughter’s abhorrent attitude before it's too late.”

Loop back down, turn it around, pull through— extra taut.

“A cookie like her in charge will only destroy the prestigious reputation of House Strawberry.”

With a snip of her shears, the thread’s rubine glow withered away, leaving a cotton husk in its place. Strawberry Tea Cookie took a step back to admire her handiwork: a cream chiffon evening gown her client commissioned for the upcoming soirée of a prospective bachelor. She made sure that it would shine under any condition, so the bachelor could seek her client out even in the darkest of nights. The dress was intricately beaded with the finest cape gooseberries and sugar crystals, meant to alluringly accentuate the figure, yet remain modest enough for the family’s approval.

Strawberry Tea Cookie grabbed the order form from her work desk. The client was due for a fitting the next day, perfect, hopefully all she has to do is make some minor adjustments. She folded the piece of paper and pinned it to the mannequin before glancing at the window. The sun had just set, she should have enough time to draft a pattern for her next client and start working on a preliminary sample.

She picked up her client folder and began flipping through, skimming past the endless list of fulfilled commissions. An uneasy feeling washed over her dough when she reached the end of the file. She had been receiving less and less garment commissions these past few months, a quick glance at the sea of barren mannequins was a testament to that, but this was the first time she had absolutely nothing.

There was no denying it, her popularity had declined.

Strawberry Tea Cookie closed the folder shut and stored it away. Perhaps with this extra time, she could work on developing a new— long overdue— collection. But what could she base it on? She sat down on her desk chair, wracking her head for any decent ideas.

Three quiet knocks snapped the designer from her thoughts. “Lady Strawberry Tea Cookie?” Strawberry Butler Cookie called out. “Are you in there?”

“Yes, how may I help you?” She answered.

“Dinner has been served,” he announced. “Do you plan on joining, or would you like me to bring a plate up for you?”

Strawberry Tea Cookie thought for a moment. She usually had the excuse of having too much work to join her family for dinner, but that’s no longer the case. Even so, it had been eons since she had supper with them. And as much as she disliked talking to her haughty relatives, she should at least make her presence known occasionally.

“I’ll join them at the table,” she decided. “Please give me a few moments to look presentable.”

“Of course, my lady.” Strawberry Butler Cookie heeds. “I’ll let your family know that you intend on joining them.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie stood in front of the mirror, brushing off loose threads and fabric scraps from her burgundy, tea-length gown, which parted at the center to a panel of alternating dark rose and light maroon stripes. The skirt was fluffed with a generously layered petticoat made of light yogurt silk. Dark pink embroidery bordered the burgundy skirt, cornering into two heart-shaped patches of the same color. It cinched at her waist before fanning up the bodice in a “V” shape. A thick line of white frosting formed a dropped, off-shoulder neckline with a strawberry cabochon pressed at the center— the symbol of House Strawberry. The charm was framed with two pointed leaves and curled, dried tea ribbons. She adjusted the delicate, dark brown chain around her neck. 

Gloved hands combed through her short, burgundy hair that faded into deep carmine curls, her coral highlights shone in the dim candlelight. Two large, half-cut strawberries were elegantly frosted to her head, resembling cat ears. A leaf adorned each half, and two brown sewing pins were stuck in the right strawberry. Her curtain bangs were primarily parted to the left, covering one of her ruby red eyes.

She lifted her coffee brown glasses, blinking a few times to adjust her strained vision. Thick, frosted eyelashes brushing against the small mole just under her visible eye.

Strawberry Tea Cookie deemed herself to be presentable enough. She grabbed the doorknob, collected herself with a deep breath, and stepped out of her studio.

The clicking of Strawberry Tea Cookie’s spool heels quelled all conversation as it garnered the unwanted gazes of every House Strawberry member sitting at the dining table.

Strawberry Tea Cookie grimaced at the dishes served in front of her.

Jam-lathered fruits and gummies threatened to spill over the table, their sickly sweet glazed coats sparkled against the harsh chandelier light. Same goes for the honey-viscous fruit juice that stuck to the sugar glass pitchers, pieces of ice and candied fruits floating within. She already felt herself preparing to gag from the overly-sugary smell alone. Of all nights she decided to join, it just had to be the one where nothing but sweets were served.

“Ah, and here’s the golden berry herself~,” a saccharinely condescending voice announced. “I’m so glad you decided to join us for once, Lady Strawberry Tea Cookie.”

“Aunt Peach Jam Cookie.” Strawberry Tea Cookie greeted curtly, taking a seat across from her. Strawberry Butler Cookie was quick to fill her glass with juice.

Peach Jam Cookie was lighter in complexion and had whipped, light coral hair with slices of marinated peaches braided in.

“You came just in time,” she met her niece with an irked grin. “I was telling our family about what happened at the Grandberry Market today~.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie picked some sugar-glazed ground cherries from a nearby bowl, wholly uninterested in what her aunt had to say, but made a nodding motion with her head to continue. She would’ve preferred if they were plain, but this was probably the only thing at the table she could eat without feeling her mouth rot from the inside out— if that was even possible. Y’know, because she is a being made of sugar.

“Well, I ran into my good ol’ friend, Blueberry Raisin Cookie!” Peach Jam Cookie perked, her maroon gaze searching for any reaction from the heiress. Strawberry Tea Cookie raised her eyebrow, she doesn’t recall them being friends.  “Do you know what we were talking about? I’m sure you will find it quite interesting~.”

Alright, Peach Jam Cookie was obviously trying to provoke her. But Strawberry Tea Cookie decided to indulge in her one-sided conversation, urging her to continue with another nod.

“He was talking about his collection for Hollyberry Fashion Week~,” she continued, folding her arms on the table and leaning closer to her niece. “I heard it’s going to be quite a grand display, you might have some competition this year~.” A small, devious smile plastered itself on her lips. “Well, if you decide to—”

“With all due respect, Aunt Peach Jam Cookie, I believe you have the wrong impression of what Hollyberry Fashion Week is,” Strawberry Tea Cookie interjects coldly, annoyance laced in her usually monotone voice. “It’s not a competition.”

Peach Jam Cookie’s smirk knowingly curled upwards. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re up against~.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie took a bite of the ground cherry stabbed through her fork, savoring its naturally sweet, yet sour flavor.

She didn’t bother to dignify her aunt with any more words. However, she should seriously start drafting a collection. While she isn’t Blueberry Raisin Cookie’s direct rival, he is still quite an innovative and creative designer, and the heiress isn’t going to let a cookie like him hoard all the spotlight.

Her aunt’s smirk melted into a dissatisfied frown and she turned towards Strawberry Tea Cookie’s mother, Strawberry Mousse Cookie. “Dear sister, I seriously don’t understand why you insist on making Lady Strawberry Tea Cookie heir to this fine house.”

Now that got Strawberry Tea Cookie’s attention. She sent a slow blink towards Peach Jam Cookie, like two sugar cubes striking together.

“My son is more than qualified to become House Strawberry’s next head,” she continued. “At the very least compared to your daughter.” A snide snicker followed.

The spark was struck ablaze.

Strawberry Tea Cookie immediately shot up, slamming her hands on the table and causing all the dishware to shake. “The absolute audacity for you to make such a proclamation.” She venomously glowered at Peach Jam Cookie, the heiress’s gaze alone a warning to choose her next words wisely. “Especially from a cookie that married into this family.”

“I may have married into House Strawberry, but I care about this family more than you ever did.” Peach Jam Cookie spat. She crossed her arms and leaned against her chair, puffing her gaudily decorated chest. “You spend every day huddled in your little studio creating drab dresses, you don’t even bother speaking with us when you’re free.”

“Yet all you do is prance around Strawberry Estate and flaunt your riches,” Strawberry Tea Cookie fired back aggressively, slamming her fist at the mention of Peach Jam Cookie’s indulgences. “Which our money purchased, mind you.”

“Well at least I express my emotions,” Peach Jam Cookie seethed, she began fiddling with one of her gold necklaces. “I find it utterly ridiculous that the Heiress of House Strawberry doesn’t even make the slightest effort to smile or laugh.” She turned her attention back to Strawberry Tea Cookie’s parents, who were watching their exchange with nervous expressions. “You two have to at least agree with me on that.” 

Strawberry Tea Cookie glanced at her parents expectantly.

A tense silence thicker than butter permeated across the room, one that muddled the sticky sweet air with greasy, uncomfortable apprehension. Her mother gave Strawberry Tea Cookie a patient smile before turning to her husband, Roasted Oolong Cookie, to whisper into his ear. They bounced hushed words between each other, every passing second melting both Strawberry Tea Cookie and Peach Jam Cookie’s patience.

“Well?” Peach Jam Cookie exasperated, flinging one of her arms in the air. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Strawberry Mousse Cookie cleared her throat.

“Blossom…” she glanced to the side apprehensively, the shadow of her wide-brimmed sun hat obscuring the conflicting emotions within her rubine eyes. Roasted Oolong Cookie placed a gentle hand over his wife’s, silently encouraging her to continue. “You are heiress to House Strawberry…” Her words were full of uncertain inflections, “... And therefore you must represent its core values.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie’s jam stilled, going cold despite the suffocatingly hot air.

“Peach Jam Cookie is correct…” Strawberry Mousse Cookie continued, slowing her words as if she was chastising a child. “Your father and I believe that…” She paused to take a deep breath.

“It would be best if you start working on embodying these values a little more, and perhaps join our family—.”

“So you’re siding with her.” Strawberry Tea Cookie coldly spat, her anger redirecting to her mother. Embodying these values, she knew what they meant.

Strawberry Mousse Cookie sighed. “We’re not siding with—”

“You are.”

“Blossom please lis—.”

“Why should I?” Strawberry Tea Cookie huffed sharply, tightly crossing her arms around her chest. “So you can tell me that I need to ‘smile more’ and ‘just look happy’ like you have all my life—.”

“Strawberry Tea Cookie, that is enough!” Roasted Oolong Cookie’s deep voice sliced through their argument, causing Strawberry Tea Cookie to immediately shut her mouth in fear. “You have done nothing but disrespect both your mother and aunt, apologize to them right now.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie drew her breath in. Apologize? After what they said? But she knew not to incur her father’s wrath. She turned her head away, muttering an apology laced with bitter betrayal and anger.

Roasted Oolong Cookie sighed, bringing his hand up to his palm. “Your mother and I have been discussing this for a while…” Strawberry Mousse Cookie slapped her husband’s arm, scolding him in a dialect Strawberry Tea Cookie couldn’t quite understand. He responded with hushed reassurance in the same language, she vaguely decoded his words: “she needs to know.”

Need to know what?

“The etiquette you have consistently displayed is unbefitting of a Hollyberry noble, let alone as the heiress to House Strawberry.” Roasted Oolong Cookie coldly declared. “Because of that, we…” He paused for a second, furrowing his brows to find the best way to communicate the news.

“We have decided it’s best to choose a new heir.”

Time seemed to simultaneously slow down and speed up for the heir— well former heiress— as she tried to grasp what her father said. Amidst it all, she was hit with a continuous barrage of words and accusations.

“You barely put any effort in speaking with your fellow nobles. Even worse, you immediately burn bridges the minute you perceive that some cookie has insulted you.”

They deserved it, you and I both know that.

“Do you know how long it took for us to establish these connections, especially for our family?”

I know.

“No wonder why we believe you don’t care about us!”

… That’s not…

“It’s like you want to continuously tarnish our reputation.”

Whatever bitterness and anger Strawberry Tea Cookie felt completely extinguished. She… tarnishes their reputation…? 

“You can’t even do the bare minimum and smile on the rare occasion. The majority of our relatives think you’re incapable of expression entirely.”

Roasted Oolong Cookie let out a frustrated huff, he glanced up and met his daughter's eyes that were frosted with pure hurt and betrayal. His own features softened slightly, he breaks eye contact to focus on an unassuming piece of candied peach. “Perhaps we spoiled you too much growing up…”

Strawberry Tea Cookie remained quiet, her father’s grievances echoing— consuming— any other thoughts she might’ve had. She felt nothing, a punishing numbness overtaking her dough. Bare minimum? Incapable of expression? Too spoiled..?

Is that who she truly is to them?

With a collected and resigned breath, she hurriedly left the dining room. Her parents, who were quietly arguing up to that point, tried calling her name. She didn’t bother to heed, only wishing to escape to her chambers.

“Cousin, wait!” Yet a shrill, annoying voice still ran after her. 

Strawberry Tea Cookie stopped in her tracks, stomping her heel with the last step in a not-so-subtle way to convey she didn’t wish to be talked to. She turned around, facing Peach Jam Cookie’s only right to House Strawberry’s namesake— her “dear” cousin.

“What is it, Strawberry Sugar Cookie?” She crossed her arms, impatiently waiting for him to spit out whatever nonsense he had brewing.

“I apologize for Mother’s behavior,” he said between pants, catching his breath with his hands on his knees.

Strawberry Tea Cookie stepped backwards as he rose, making way for his ridiculously huge pompadour. “She… she just wanted to provoke you, and that was utterly inappropriate of her.” He bowed, Strawberry Tea Cookie rolled her eyes as she leaned back once again.

Strawberry Tea Cookie slowly blinked at the added statement, her gaze flickering for a second. “Drop the act, I know you’re not actually sorry.”

“Hah, of course not,” Her cousin laughed, his regretful facade melting away to his usual sneer. “Why would I? Especially to a cookie who has constantly undermined me and Mother my entire life.” 

Unphased and unsurprised, Strawberry Tea Cookie continued climbing up the stairs. Strawberry Sugar Cookie followed, much to her dismay. “You know, I’m surprised Uncle Roasted Oolong Cookie didn’t reveal the whole thing.” She ignored him, speeding up her steps. Her cousin remained at his leisurely pace, uncaring that the distance between them grew larger.

“I’m taking your place.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie stopped dead in her tracks, gaze darkening as she snapped her head backwards. “What?”

“Well, it was inevitable~.” He shrugged nonchalantly, continuing up the stairs. “Like Mother said, I am much more suitable to run House Strawberry than you!”

“Unlike you, I actually bother to show my emotions,” with each step his voice increasingly dripped with more condescension. The peach doesn’t fall far from the orchard, it seems. “Nobody can deny my creativity, the Royal Family themselves have commissioned three murals from me so far~.”

Strawberry Sugar Cookie was now face-to-face with Strawberry Tea Cookie, uncomfortably close as his figure loomed over her like an overcast shadow.

“Besides, I actually do real art. Not like those rags you sew together every day~.” He cocked his head, beckoning a response with his sly smirk.

Strawberry Tea Cookie could only muster a small huff, but deep within was a calm anger that simmered through the oppressing numbness. To imply that fashion wasn’t “real” art. Of all the things that happened to her today, this might be the one that tops the battenburg cake. She knew the Peach Clan was stuffed with shallow, power-hungry cookies, yet to have their kin that grew up with House Strawberry’s values deny a creative medium’s artistic value? “How… backwards of you…” That was all she could say.

“Huh, backwards…” Strawberry Sugar Cookie chuckled, picking at his thick, sugar crystal coat collar. He descended one step. “I believe you got it all twisted…”

“The real backwards cookie here is you, refusing to even try adopting House Strawberry’s principles.” He sneered, taking another step down the stairs. “It’s ironic really, you spend so much time putting Mother and I down…”

Another step down.

“Yet here I am, a half-Strawberry taking your oh-so-precious heirship.”

With that, Strawberry Sugar Cookie turned to descend the rest of the staircase, leaving Strawberry Tea Cookie at the top of the landing— all alone.

[jacenbren]

Apologies for yet another nonsensical insomnia rant but the fact that Legato Bluesummers a) has never truly been a free man and b) cannot fathom ever living outside of servitude. really hurts man. Like ohhhhhh boy.

In the ‘98 anime (due to trimax being incomplete at the time), we never really got to see the real dark and nasty bits of Legato’s story, and trigun stampede hasn’t yet gotten a chance to really delve into his character. While Legato still served the same purpose as he did in the manga with similar events playing out, I think a lot of his character’s depth was missing in tri98—we never really learn why it is that Legato is so deeply devoted to Knives, and he’s portrayed as a lot more… theatrical?? than he is in the manga?? anyway. Tri98 Legato serves his narrative purpose and is a great villain, but he seems a bit shallow, for lack of a better word, mostly because we don’t actually get to learn a lot about him.

In comparison to his counterparts, trimax Legato is… kinda a loser. The second we meet Knives, Legato gets crumpled like a soda can and spends the majority of the series as a quadriplegic who sits menacingly in the shadows in his body brace/coffin thing (which I affectionately like to call his Bitch Cocoon). He spends his time being very weird and unlikeable and tormenting Vash in various ways, all while dramatically singing Knives’s praises, despite him being the guy who quite literally rearranged all of Legato’s limbs and permanently crippled him. All in all, despite being an absolute menace in combat and just a generally fucking unsettling guy, Legato’s kind of pathetic and really easy to dunk on at first. Just ask Elendira, who roasts the shit out of him on a daily basis because she’s bored and even “accidentally” chucks a glass of water at him! He’s an easy target!

However, I think this makes the absolute gut punch that is finding out why Legato is the way he is infinitely worse, which I absolutely adore from a narrative and storytelling standpoint.

Legato has been a slave since he was a child, in every way but name—well, he was literally a slave as a child, and more specifically, a sex slave. He grew up knowing nothing other than the absolute worst of humanity, instilling a hatred towards his own kind that would last his entire life. It’s made abundantly clear that Legato doesn’t value himself in the slightest, because he grew up as little more than a commodity, to use and dispose. When Knives razes the city Legato’s being held captive in, and goes to kill him, this is the first act of kindness he has ever received, and yet also the greatest unkindness—Knives has destroyed Legato’s life, no matter how abhorrently shitty it was. Legato has never lived a life outside slavery, so he has no idea what to do with himself.

So he turns to Knives. Millions Knives, whose goal is to eradicate the humans who have done nothing but make Legato suffer. Knives, who seems all too willing to put him out of his misery should he turn down Legato’s offer to serve him.

Legato cannot fathom a life without a master, without pain and suffering and servitude. He cannot comprehend the idea of freedom, and most of all, he can’t understand Vash. He can’t understand that someone whose kind has been used and abused by humans for centuries, who’s suffered for decades alone in the desert, could find it in himself to forgive and love the ones who hurt him so unconditionally. Vash’s very existence infuriates Legato, because Vash is a mirror image of him—a mirror image whose trauma didn’t swallow him whole and turn him into something despicable. Sure, Knives might’ve saved him, but he’s just another master to serve. Knives broke every bone in his body as punishment for disobedience, and yet somehow, Knives still favors his brother—who keeps running, who keeps refusing, who keeps avoiding his past—over Legato, who’s sworn to never disobey his orders again.

Vash is what Legato could’ve been. Vash is what Legato desperately wants to be. The problem is, Legato refuses to heal, and he doesn’t want to be fixed, either.

[velaryoncoffee]

I need to vent about the hotd fandom

Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna hear someone complain.

I created this blog this week because being on Twitter has been absolutely draining and leaving me in some of the most dejected moods I've been in years. It's not all bad; I've found lovely people in the Lucemond community who love sharing ideas and stories and artwork and edits with each other and they've made me feel very much at home.

The issue is that as official content runs dry I believe a lot of people have taken to creating drama as a source of entertainment and community activity... And they do that by constantly instigating tribalistic fights with "the enemy faction" by insulting characters (and sometimes ships). And as someone who loves all characters, this means I've had to watch people shit on everything I like, absolutely fucking everything, for the past few weeks. It felt silly at first, it didn't bother me or touch sides, but over time it has started to become too much, especially as sassy quips turn to insults that you can tell come from deeply rooted contempt.

My fellow Lucemonders will insult Aemond whenever it's hateo'clock, despite him being half of the ship, if not the driving force behind the ship to begin with (and at this point in the series also being one of the few who actually mourned Lucerys the most). My fellow team black folk will insult Aegon II for the crimes he did in S1, talking about us fans of him and other team green characters like we're unintelligent or built wrong for enjoying these parts of them and analysing their characters in a sympathetic, and in my opinion, a holistic and less biased manner. My fellow team green folk either don't bother getting involved at all, or they're even worse, sending out absolutely abhorrent criminal accusations over the relationships and headcanons we prefer to write and draw. I've had people mass qrt me and my mutuals with godawful things, sometimes resorting to death threats and blatant homophobia.

In pettier/less serious situations like with the character hate I've even tried to engage in friendly discussion to see if I could foster a more proactive and calm environment in my circle, only to get absolutely nowhere. It was as if I'd been talking to a brick wall.

Nobody wants to truly get along. Nobody wants to truly hear other people's opinions. Most, to some degree, are incredibly mean spirited and everybody interprets each other in bad faith. They'd rather throw insults and remain in their incapsulated communities where their side is GOOD and the other side is BAD. There's nearly no real analysis that doesn't involve the other side being bad and irredeemable to some extent. And when you try to write analysis, but someone's fave looks somewhat in a bad light, they attack you for it, as if that character's flaws don't make them that much more interesting as a fan.

As someone who is at their essence team green but loves all characters, and whose favourite ship is mostly populated by team black folk, I end up seeing insults from both sides of the isle. And every single fucking time, from every single person involved, they're throwing insults at things I like. I almost never get involved but I often feel caught in the middle catching strays. They insult characters I like. Literary genres and tropes I like. Relationships I like. THINGS I like and give me happiness and comfort. It's like trying to talk with a friend, but every time you want to tell them about your interests they tell you flat-out it's shit and they refuse to be sympathetic or constructive.

It's been very difficult to navigate this, as someone so starkly in the middle. I have a lovely community on discord that are always peaceful and sweet, and I hope this website is somewhat better. I know it will never be perfect, people are way too passionate and tribalistic across the board in this fandom due to the inherent characteristics of the source material, but I've never struggled this much in a fandom in all my many years online.

I have no conclusion to this, only a warning that I am going through HRT and I'm currently in my testosterone peak, so maybe this is all just a momentary mood swing, like PMS for T-boys. If so, it is what it is; if not, and it ain't what it ain't. Thanks for reading.

[fallenasleepyetagain]

Date - Fresh/Nightmare

Prompt: Meet Cute/Blind Date

Prompt from: @yearoftheotpevent

Media: UTMV/Undertale AUs

Genres: Human AU, blind date, first date, romance (I guess haha), rivals (?) to lovers, ooooo Fresh is from Nightmare’s past ooooo, use of 90s slang because lord knows I’m not going to write Fresh without it

Pairing(s): Fresh/Nightmare

CW/TW - Mentions of Fresh infecting people, mentions of theft

Other Notes: I’m not the most proud of this one tbh😔 this month was rough for writing. I would’ve loved to write their date but I did not have the time. maybe another day…

Word Count: 1837 Words

“Can I start you for tonight, sir?”

“I am waiting for someone, but a lambrusco would be excellent.”

“I will get that for you sir.”

“Thank you.” Nightmare nodded, watching the waiter walk off.

Blind dates were stupid. Absolutely stupid. Nightmare set the menu down and rubbed his forehead, looking out at the window. He had to be about ninety stories up, he could still see the sun, despite it trying to set on the horizon. The restaurant's ambiance was nice. It was formal, quiet, and the live music was a great touch. A small orchestra was playing a variety of classical music, and Nightmare quite liked it. It wasn’t the fanciest restaurant he’s ever been to, but he didn’t expect much from his boys. He also didn’t expect himself to agree to a blind date set up by said boys, and yet here he was.

Did he seem sad and pathetic? Is that why they set him up on a date with a stranger? Nightmare didn’t feel sad and pathetic, he was the King of Negativity after all, there was no one better than he. Which is why this blind date idea felt so stupid to him. He could get any man he wanted, and yet his boys decide to set him up with a stranger? How stupid.

…Yet he agreed to it, didn’t he? He supposed that the worst thing that could happen is that it’s some weirdo, and he just chucks them out the window and treats himself to dinner. The best thing that could happen was that no one showed up and he got to eat by himself. The quiet of the restaurant was nice compared to what often happened during meal times. There was always a lot of shouting and lack of manners at Nightmare’s dinner table.

The waiter returned with his wine, opening the bottle and pouring a glass for him. He didn’t allow the waiter to set it back down, as he took it from their hands directly. He thanked them before turning back to the window. He twirled the wine around in the glass for a moment before taking a sip.

Oh, how he absolutely adored red wine. One could call him a wine connoisseur, and he would wear that title with pride. Perhaps it made him seem a bit arrogant, but he didn’t care. He was arrogant, might as well pair it with a fine wine.

Another swish of the glass before he took a sip, slowly feeling the alcoholic juice slip down his throat. His teal eyes shut as he did so, allowing himself the satisfaction of taking in no other sensation than the taste of the wine. Lambrusco was really a hidden gem in the wine world. This particular wine was of great quality. Nightmare could tell. Cheap lambrusco was often very sweet, and this was aged and dry to perfection. He took another sip, his lips curling back into a smile. There was nothing like a good wine on a calm evening. It was perfect. Even if his date decided to show up right at that moment, he wouldn’t even care.

“Yo, Nightmare, brah! I think you’re my date for tonight!”

Nightmare could hear the glass of his soul cracking in his mind. His eyes opened into a confused scowl as he looked to his left. Standing in front of him was that abhorrent, nineties parasite. Standing at a horrific six feet (or two hundred centimeters) was Fresh, and the bastard didn’t even try to dress up! Nightmare was horrified. Fresh was in his everyday wear, which was already beginning to hurt his eyes. He was wearing that stupidly obnoxious blue, purple, and white sweatshirt of his, and the pink shirt underneath and the massive 90s collar. His pants were also a variety of neon colors, and frankly, if it pissed Nightmare off. Pick a color scheme and stick with it goddamnit! Even Cross, the most idiotic man he’s ever met, could understand that!

Fresh cocked his head to the side, a smile on his face. He was wearing his rectangular sunglasses (Nightmare wasn’t convinced that they were actual sunglasses, considering their properties) that currently said “YOLO” in bright yellow and blue lettering. Nightmare knew what the glasses were concealing. This particular host of Fresh’s was tall, a little lanky, and had dark skin. The host had their hair styled into box braids, with neon colored hair extensions weaved into it. No doubt it was Fresh’s doing. Nightmare couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could see the way they had been woven together had Fresh’s name written all over it.

“This cannot possibly be right. What are you doing here?” Nightmare asked, his face pulled back into a scowl. He only got more visibly angry when Fresh sat himself down on the chair across from Nightmare. Fresh grinned at him, leaning back in the seat and man-spreading as he did so. Nightmare didn’t even want to know what the other guests thought of this horrid exchange.

“It most certainly is correct my dude!” Fresh clicked his teeth and gave Nightmare finger guns which made him cringe. “Ya know, when I got the invite from your boys, I was a bit nervous y’know? I thought they were gonna kill me whenever I arrived here, haha!”

Wine glasses were usually supposed to be filled to around halfway, perhaps even less, depending on the type of wine and the consumer. However, Nightmare filled his glass nearly all of the way as Fresh spoke. He nearly downed the entire glass in one sip. He’d need a little alcohol to deal with this nonsense.

“How long have you been here? Sorry for not getting here sooner! Nearly got lost a couple times!”

“It would have been a major shame if you did.” Nightmare stated, sarcasm dripping from his lips as he took another sip of his wine.

“Hella broski!” Fresh, however, did not pick up on his sarcastic tone. Unless he did, and was just messing with Nightmare? God, Nightmare could never tell with this guy! He just could not read Fresh, and it pissed him off.

There was an awkward silence that Nightmare didn’t even attempt to fill. He gently sipped his alcohol as he watched Fresh, noticing that he barely twitches, his stupid smile still on his face. Nightmare didn’t want to look at him nonstop, but there was this awful feeling in his chest, that if he looked away Fresh would disappear or get closer to him. Fresh always had this uncanniness about him. Similar to a robot, or a statue.

In a way, Nightmare was right for feeling that way. Fresh was just puppeting a flesh suit, and all of his mannerisms showed that clearly. It was like he was pretending, acting as if he was human. He was doing an incredibly poor job.

With one final rub to his temple, Nightmare held up his hand to get the attention of a waiter. He was not going to deal with this. He would pay for his wine (as any respectable person would do, he may be an evil king but he wasn’t a monster!), leave, and then discipline whoever thought that playing with his love life was a joke.

“Ah ah! Wait a minute will you brah?!” Fresh reached across the table, grabbing Nightmare by his hand and yanking it down. “C’mon! At least give me a chance?”

“Why?” Nightmare hissed, yanking his hand away. “I know what you are. You can’t possibly feel any actual attraction to me.”

“Woah, bold assumptions there!” Fresh leaned over, putting a hand against his chin. “I mean, you’re the king, broski! Who wouldn’t be attracted to ya?”

Nightmare rubbed his forehead, debating just getting out of there.

“Ah, but anyways, I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you for a while now! You’re just so…” Fresh’s expression changes into something more sinister, and Nightmare can feel the aura of the room changing as it did so. “Interestin’, y’know?” Always have been. Ever since you were purple.”

Ah, right. Nightmare had nearly forgotten his small encounter with Fresh. It had to have been around two hundred or so years ago since their first meeting. It wasn’t anything revolutionary, but it had planted the seed in Nightmare’s mind that there was something else out there. After all, a small, bright purple, four-tentacled creature with a black and yellow eye-mouth isn’t something you say everyday. Especially if your everyday consisted of living in the same forest that never changed. Nightmare dared Dream to eat it- er, Fresh, but he refused. And for better or for worse that decision somehow led Nightmare to be sitting at a dinner table with the man. If only Dream had more balls and eaten him when they were kids. Perhaps this could’ve been avoided.

“So lemme treat ya!”

“With what money? Last time I checked, you lived in a void with your furbies.” Nightmare scoffed, a sly smirk forming on his face as Fresh’s expression fell.

“Yowch!” Fresh held his hands up, a surprised look on his face. “I’m a lil’ hurt by your words, brah! I’ve got money! How’d you think I got all mah trinkets?”

“I figured you just took them.”

Out of all the things, Fresh looked most offended at that. “Whaaa??? Nightmare, brah, that hurts even more! Stealin’ and breakin’ the law is so uncool yo! I would never! I get my money completely legit-ly!”

“Yeah? How?”

“Well, I use the money from my hosts of course! I take their body right? Then I get access to whatever they have! Real simple.”

“That…is stealing, Fresh.”

“Nuh uh.”

Putting a hand to his temple once more, Nightmare gave Fresh a look of incredible incredulity. “Really. It’s not stealing?”

“Nah! Doesn’t count.” He laughed, and Nightmare could hear the cruelty in his voice. “Anyways!”

Fresh leaned over the table and grabbed Nightmare by his hand. The grasp was gentle, as if he knew that Nightmare wouldn’t yank it away. Nightmare couldn’t deny it, there was something alluring about Fresh. It wasn’t the way he dressed, obviously, but his past, how he operated, made Nightmare want to tear into him and see how he ticked.

“Nightmare, brah, please.” Nightmare was surprised to feel that despite the silver piercing in the host’s bottom lip, Fresh’s lips felt soft as they connected with the back of his hand. When was the last time someone had, sincerely, kissed the back of his hand? Was it Cross? It had to have been, when Cross pledged his allegiance to Nightmare those long seven months ago. His lips twitched as he wanted to smile, but remained stoic. “Lemme treat you tonight. It might be fun.”

Nightmare could see the sinister smile in Fresh’s face from a mile away. More often than not, his own grins held that sort of minacious quality to them.

“Maybe I’ll surprise ya in ways you couldn’t even imagine.”

Oh, how could Nightmare decline such an offer?

[queerwolf79]

TW: mentions of bullying, suicidal ideation, and a toxic fangroup in the SPN fandom

This is all I’ll say about the recent revelations, and forewarning, a lot of swearing ahead:

I have a genuine question. Why is the Supernatural fandom as toxic as it is? Don't get me wrong, there are pockets of joy and wonder, forces for good, and a mobilization for worthy causes I have yet to see in any fandom except maybe that of the Our Flag Means Death fandom (albeit on a slightly smaller scale, and there’s quite a bit of crossover).

Like quite a few of you, I curated my own little chunk of paradise in this fandom in making three amazing, true friends (@anyreiart, @eyesofatragedy67, and @punk-is-notdead), and while I don't actively engage very much with the rest of the fandom, because it overwhelms me, the few times I have, have been generally good experiences. Has it all been sunshine and gay angel rainbows? No.

All of us have experienced negative things in some capacity. A rude comment on art or fanfiction, specifically in mine and Any’s case: a relatively well known fandom persona told people not to read the last chapter of one of our fics, and that was because that person didn't like a section of the last chapter. I’m sure that person justified to themselves that telling other people not to read someone’s work was some sort of, misguided warning, and all because that one person didn't like one part of our fanfiction. But I digress, we have seen the capacity for toxicity, but a lot of the time that has been part of the “ship war” discourse. Again, in our case, it was a brief negative interlude with a mod at the now closed SPN newsletter.

All water under a murky bridge, but the revelations of late are absolutely abhorrent. Fandom to me, as someone who has been involved in several fandoms for the past 22 years, has always been a safe space, especially as a neurodivergent queer person. I started at 17, in the fandom for the wizard boy series I won't say because of the TERF who shall not be named, but it was… not like this.

Now it's very possible that I didn't see as much (hell, I had no idea about any of this SHACgate garbage until this week because I don't really interact with folx much), but unlike now, during the wizard boy series time, I was very active, accepted into elite LiveJournal communities and while I was never a “BNF”, I got to share spaces with some incredibly talented people. And I do not ever remember the sort of discourse I have seen in the Supernatural fandom. Not even whispers of it. Ship wars have been and sadly probably always will be a thing, but this infighting, vicious, manipulative, cult-like shit? Nah, man, at least not as far as I saw.

A majority of us recently found out in the SPN fandom, and specifically among the Destiel shippers, multiple adults in some elite discord server, got involved in multiple bullying campaigns over the years and toxic, (and let's be honest) evil fucking behavior all over the simplest, or even pettiest fucking things. And what kills me, is a good majority of the orchestrators and primary toxicity peddlers, say they are neurodivergent, and/or queer, and/or disabled. That means, statistically, they themselves have probably been bullied at some point in their lives.

Yet they still chose to harass, block and ignore, “mean girls” burn-book fellow fandom folx, supposedly even their friends, all because "so and so told me to" or because they felt justified in doing so for whatever seemingly honorable reason. Many people who have come forward about their previous or prior involvement state their participation or silence in these campaigns was for fear of retribution or cancellation. Which to a degree is perfectly understandable, but in chasing the divine, these participants compromised their own values, and just because they used their fame for good a lot, doesn't really balance out how they used their fame for evil, too. Personally, I don't think it works like that.

But I'm not here to soapbox about the morality and ethics of their choices. Either they know they did bad things and are working toward undoing the damage and darkness, or they're going to continue to blame others and refuse accountability by releasing disingenuous apologies that essentially equate to, "He only gets mean when he drinks." Either way, that's between them, their friends and family, and their flying spaghetti monster.

No, what I’m genuinely confused about is why the toxicity in the SPN fandom seems so particularly… PG&E in Erin Brockovich about things. I mean, come on. Seriously? A bunch of grown ass adults bullying people, sending death threats, doxxing, harassing, pulling some high school bullshit, block and ignore tactics to dehumanize and traumatize people, some even to the point of suicidal ideation? I'm sorry, that’s fucking gross and this whole goddamn thing is fucking ridiculous. Especially if these perpetrators were bullied themselves at some point in their lives.

And don't get me wrong, with a history of loving problematic ships, I absolutely live for redemption arcs for villains, but the reality is, there needs to be a glimmer of goodness inside for that to work, and how any adult can think that sort of behavior is okay, or justified … I don't know. Some of the perpetrators may be past a redemption arc. Too far gone. In Ted Lasso (spoiler obvs) everybody got a redemption arc except for Rupert, and that was because he was irredeemable.

This behavior should be irredeemable, but that’s my personal opinion, and everyone is allowed their own. But I will admit, even my own opinion can waver. There needs to be a sense of sincerity in the first step, which is accepting responsibility and apologizing, hence why I don’t think every single person who participated is irredeemable.

I applaud the victims, those who were hurt, in finding the ability to forgive their bullies, and I also applaud those who have drawn strict boundaries. At the end of the day, the perpetrators are the ones who will have to live with the fact they chose to commit these acts and ruin fandom entirely for someone.

I don't care if it was all orchestrated by some mastermind lone wolf evil caricature of a Destiel shipper, or a select few wannabe Legion of Doom motherfuckers, your decisions are your own. Your choices were made, and when a friend told you that so and so was mean/bad/wrong, you attacked without a second thought, and why? Up until this past week, you were reaping the benefits of your elite status and living your best lives, enjoying your fandom experience. Maybe you felt safe and content with your ingroup, maybe you didn’t, but you were probably enjoying yourself. Now, how would you feel if someone did to you what you have documentedly done to others? Chased you off of social media, doxxed you, harassed you, made you feel unsafe when you unlock your phone? I won’t deny, to some extent, some of you probably have had tastes of those attacks from outsiders, but never from within, because you had the protection of your BNF cohorts. And luckily, for you, the majority of us don’t believe in bullying, so you’re never going to have to truly find out what that feels like, but I hope you think about it.

You know what happened when someone was mean to one of my friends? I stood up for said friend, while remaining calm and collected, then proceeded to block and be done with it. I didn’t reply or engage when their response turned vicious. The entire exchange was out in the open, on a public thread, and name-calling and gaslighting only ever came from one side, and it wasn't mine. I get the urge to be protective, I do, but did it just not ever occur that you can be protective of people you care about without resorting to bullying tactics? And if you have to commit these acts for fear you'll lose your fame, your place in a server, your "friend", then you've proven you don't care about people outside of what they can do for you.

A demon some of these perpetrators will need to exorcise if they truly want to learn and grow from this.

Anyway, I don't understand how or why that sickness of bullying to such a horrific extent thrived for so long in this fandom. And continues to thrive in other pockets of the fandom. Why? Why the fuck are so many adults in this fandom such childish bullies? And it's not even like we can blame it on the younger, newer fans, because they’re the ones that end up being the victim half the time from the looks of things. A bunch of quarter-life approaching middle-age folx caused this and proved that a little bit of fame in the wrong hands turns people into monsters.

For the perpetrators, I hope no one does to you what you have done to countless people in this fandom. And even more, I hope no one does to you what you did to your victims who left the fandom entirely. May you never understand that pain.

For all of their victims, I hope you find peace and I'm glad you came forward to put a stop to this madness. It was scary, and how many friends and followers the perpetrators have, this could have gone the other direction, and ended very badly. Thankfully it didn't, and hell, you got someone who never really participates or engages in fandom discourse to write a TLDR freakin’ Tumblr post about it. I am sorry for everything you experienced.

As for the rest of us? We’ve got a helluva lot of work ahead if we want to turn the Supernatural fandom into a true, safe fandom space. But I think this could be a good place to start.

[dolleminas]

I'm really getting discouraged with radical feminism lately, and I think that's funny, considering I haven't even finished reading my first book on it, and haven't even been learning about it for a year.

Though I haven't seen the people I follow partake in this cruelty, the treatment of a woman seeking an abortion is absolutely unreal. Yes, there is something to be said about women dating men. Yes, there are statistics. Yes, there is something to be said about having sex with men if you can't readily access abortions. Yes, you can have sex without PIV. But is now really the time? When a woman needs help?

Radical feminism is about liberating women, but so far I've seen nothing but kicking a woman while she's down. So far the majority of stuff that is reblogged, and I am guilty of it too, are trans things. And if not trans things, it's infighting. What I see is not focusing on women; it's hatred of men and trans people. It's a holier-than-thou attitude. It's using misogynistic language, the same language men use, for women you don't agree with.

When I first found radical feminism, after coming from a place where it was discouraged to develop your own opinions, I thought radical feminism was different. Certainly I saw people suggest unpacking your past beliefs and thinking for yourself. That political ideas are not like the bible and that you don't need to agree with everything. One if the criticisms of liberal feminism and trans ideology is that such independent thought is discouraged and that there are "right" opinions. That anyone disagreeing is labeled a TERF.

It's hypocritical. I've seen so-called radical feminists call others libfem for disagreeing with them. I've seen accusations thrown around, at me too. As if we can't critically examine something and still come to a different conclusion. As if every experience is the same. As if you somehow know a woman's circumstances better than her. If a woman who has endured prostitution is able to trust this man... who are you to doubt her? If a woman who has seen the worst of men is able to be with him, then why the hell do you think you somehow are equipped to judge her? Honestly, the AUDACITY to treat a young woman like this is abhorrent.

Anyone who cast judgment on her makes me sick. You all make me sick. If your support of women is not unconditional, if only the women who live how you want them to live get your support, then you're not liberating women. Stop pointing fingers on the internet and do something for a change.

[carefulfears]

as someone who hasn’t seen Aquarius (and doesn’t plan to) can you list why it is so awful 🍿

girl i literally do not even know how to discuss it. i had a friend staying over on saturday night and tried to break down all of the plots that happen just in the first 13-episode season and it took me over an hour and i did not remember all of them. there is an insane amount of shit going on. and none of it really makes any sense or connects properly to anything else. my saintlike friend kept going "what does that have to do with charles manson?" "wait, how did that other plot end?" "why did they do that?" and my answers had to be I DON'T KNOW. IT DOESN'T. NO IDEA.

perhaps it would be more successful if it were more focused and didn't take on so much? we'll never know. it is way more difficult to follow than any nbc drama has any right to be, and it is extremely graphic and violent for no real reason? it isn't self-serious enough to require that many rape and murder and assault and dead baby scenes on screen. like. calm down. this is nbc. (actually what i'm watching is the unrated version that dropped on netflix but literally STILL)

the main thing that absolutely baffles me to no end is duchovny's character (i have semi-affectionately mostly-derogatorily nicknamed him "officer police brutality"), the things that we see him do on screen and that are implied he has done in the past tend to err on the side of abhorrent and borderline evil, often no better than what we see the abusers and murderers doing, but we still follow the story through him and are continuously shown his "Good Guy" standing. he's one of the only characters that takes the female cop (claire holt's charmain) seriously, he regularly looks after witnesses/victims, he's kind to the disenfranchised coworkers and spouses in his life. there are several little charming personable tidbits and jokes and endearments.

don't get me wrong- i exist in the context of all that came before me etc etc- and i'm starkly against categorizing characters as "good" or "bad," discussing a character like they're meant to be our best friend rather than a story that's telling us something. i just absolutely cannot figure out what the story is trying to tell us about him. i cannot figure out how we're meant to follow him, and how we're meant to interpret his role in the larger context of the show. in my opinion it would've served the cultural/emotional arc to do without some of the posturing. you don't have to make your central character a Good Guy. we don't have to be constantly brought back to the side of someone who often behaves no better than the villains, to follow their story.

duchovny is great in it, and i find it to be an extremely interesting performance. i love to see him take on the darker material and nuances that he hasn't had a chance to, sometimes he'll have a moment or inflection or mannerism that i've never seen him do before, which is so cool for me. but i do think the role is miscast, if they were trying to tell a story about a character who is of a grim time and is capable of doing inexcusable things, things that trap him in that time. often, duchovny just brings a natural likability. it's what he's been cast for, in the past!! a lot of these quirks, and endearments, and charms, come with his presence or are engineered by him.

which isn't a bad thing, i'm not gonna say "noo david duchovny you have to fix your typecast reputation. people find you too likable. people love to see you too much." but the script would've had to challenge him/that a lot more than it does, to pull the character off.

and if they weren't trying to tell that story, of a man trapped in a dark time doing dark things, i don't know what they were trying to do.

i'm sure there will be some nbcaquarius / sam hodiak shooters who are mad at me to read this but i guess some of y'all got the show and i just did not babes! can't stop watching it tho

[serious-ancient-slavery]

This the cover of the first part of my slave-trilogy, a historic fantasy, transmitting the past to the present. You can get it for your e-reader on Amazon for just $7,99. The preface, containing my ideas about the apparent attractiveness of old style slavery in film and fiction, and about the conception of my novel, you can read there for free. From now on, I will regularly publish the next few paragraphs from the text of that preface here each time. If you don't want to wait for that, you can go to Amazon for the rest of it straight away, as for the book itself.

PREFACE TO THE HORNY AND EXCITED READER

EPISODE 1

Slavery.

It is one of the great taboos in (at least western) present society: slavery, the dreaming of slavery.

Although slavery, human bondage, the fact that some people are the propriety of others, since ancient times for centuries had been inherent to nearly all cultures, and especially the higher developed ones, it nowadays is regarded as the absolute opposite of the fundamental values of modernity, based on the 18th-century Enlightenment: that all men are created free and equal.

To nearly nothing therefore the rest of the world during the last years has reacted with so much abhorrence than when the IS-Caliphate in the Middle-East reintroduced slavery officially, as being in accordance with the Koran. Well, indeed, it will be difficult to find arguments that the Koran is explicitly against slavery, as it is the product of a 7th-century society of which it was an obvious part. As is the same with the Bible or all other holy scriptures of the distant past.

They might have criticized its excrescences sometimes, but neither Judaism, nor Christianity or Islam has opposed slavery from the beginning in a strict, principal, uncompromising way. On the contrary, in the past religious authorities several times have legitimized it for incorrigible heretics and nonbelievers. Hence since the later Middle-Ages Christian captives ended up on Ottoman galleys, unless they converted, and Islamic captives ended up on Spanish galleys, unless they did the same.

In the France of Louis XIV the galleys were partly filled up with condemned protestants, who therefore even by a legal process were turned into slaves for the rest of their lives. Later on, especially in the Americas racial arguments were used to legitimate human bondage and make it hereditary, and those racial arguments partially referred to certain passages in the Old Testament, like those about the progeny of one of the three sons of Noah, the doomed Cham.

Anyhow: while most western people now are looking back with shame to this aspect of the world of their ancestors, for ages slavery has been worldwide a completely normal and accepted part of life. And not all slaves in that case were in the lucky position of being a house-teacher of some rich patrician, as several enslaved Greeks were during the Roman Empire, to put it mildly.

Ten thousands of slaves worked the latifundia of the old Romans as they later worked the plantations of the Antebellum South in the United States. They rowed the galleys - although seldom already those of the Romans, contrary to what the famous film and novel Ben Hur tries to tell us - as they toiled day after day in the copper-mines and stone-quarries of quite a lot of great Empires of the past.

Most people at the time didn't know better than that this just was, as things were. As normal as were, for example, public executions or corporal punishments, which nowadays are regarded as detestable practices of a barbarian past too. Although they not only were revived temporarily by IS, but are also still practiced without interruption in countries like Iran and Saudi Arabia.

To be continued......

[ihatetaxes99]

 Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Hot off the heels of a ramble over what I consider to be the biggest issue facing the BNHA manga currently, I figured I would rather like to make another post, similar in nature, discussing what I consider to be one of the manga's worst plot points.

 So, without further ado and with spoilers abound, let us reflect on the redemption of one Tomura Shigaraki.

 I will stake my opinion on the matter very clearly. Tomura Shigaraki is not capable of a redemption arc and to attempt one is, in fact, insulting to who his character once was. His story was not about redemption, it never was; It was about growth and emancipation. Shigaraki was enabled by All for One, without his shadowy mentor he would likely never have gotten as far as he did, but he was not brainwashed or turned into a villain, as some may suggest. Such a notion deprives Tomura of his autonomy and dynamism as a character, to just make him a puppet of a larger force. It, essentially, makes him a goon on the same level of the Kurogiri; A plaything of All for One's who needs to be rescued because he has never shown any signs of being a truly fearsome villain were it not for that cruel Shigaraki Senior.

 Except there is. In fact, there are numerous examples. The most blatant is that Tenko willingly made the decision to murder Kotaro and laughed as he did so. A childish fit of rage brought on by the latter's abhorrent parenting, yes, but also an example of the depravity that, even as a child, the being who would become Tomura Shigaraki is capable of, without any input from his adopted father. Tenko Shimura did not die when he was taken in by All for One; Tenko Shimura died with the rest of his family. The boy who emerged from the wreckage was very much capable of becoming the villain he is today and all without any nudging, assuming that you don't subscribe to that dreadful fan theory about him being given Decay.

 Then, we have his moment of clarity during the Hospital Raid. In his comatose state, he is confronted by the demons of the past. He has pleasant memories of his mother, he forgives Hana; He sees Kotaro as a towering demon. And, his body evolving into the adult Tomura Shigaraki, he walks towards All for One. His family, even Nana, grabs him, tries to pull him back.

 And his response?

 "Don't deny who I am."

 He destroys their visages in an instant, he frees himself of the clouds they cast over his life. This is where his character development peaked, because Shigaraki's story was never about being a lost child who fell to the dark side; It has been about a broken man coming to terms with just how broken he is and, in spite of how ugly the reality is, facing it head on, accepting who he is and what his role in this world shall be.

 Tomura Shigaraki will shake up the natural order. He will go down in the history books. He won't ever again be that lost, nameless child. He's grown beyond that.

 Midoriya and All for One, and Horikoshi, however, are all too eager to snatch him back. They infest his body, override his consciousness, make him into a meat puppet and raise the absolutely inane idea that Tomura needs saving, perish the thought that he doesn't actually want that.

 Now, some would be inclined to provide the writing with the maximum benefit of the doubt. Perhaps, Midoriya's blind faith in Tomura's redemption is something that is supposed to be challenged. At some point, Shigaraki will shatter that delusion and knock Midoriya from his ego in a way that forces him to face reality. It's a common trope. King Lear. Jay Gatsby. Jimmy McGill. All fictional characters stemming from the classic trope of the tragic hero archetype, who needed to be knocked down in order to fully face their anagnorisis. Midoriya, when viewed from the perspective of a tragic hero, which I may well further explore at some point, is well overdue his.

 However, I find this unlikely. Horikoshi has made clear in the past his reluctance to call into question the ethics, mental state or likability of his precious hero students in the past, and I do believe that while genuinely fascinating, the interpretation of Midoriya as a tragic figure is entirely unintended. As such, it can be inferred that the rescuing Tomura plot line is intended to be played completely straight and that Shigaraki shall be in some way redeemed by the end of the manga. I do not like this fact, but it's not something any of us have the power to alter.

 So, why talk about this?

 'Cause I'm bored.

 Heh, I'm not quite at the point of such a copout ending yet. No, the reason why I speak about these things, why I make critical posts in general, is because I wish to express my frustrations at a series that has floundered at most every step since 2020. A series that suffers both from objectively poor writing and my own frustrations at things that only annoy me personally. The redemption of Tomura Shigaraki is emblematic of a strict barricading of storytelling that holds writers to the whims of the publisher and the general public. It's not controversial to say that Shonen Jump is not a good company, and perhaps under better circumstances, I would be singing the manga's praises right now.

 Because Horikoshi is not a bad writer. He deserves a lot more than his superiors and particularly the Japanese fanbase have dealt him. I can see so clearly where he was going with Shigaraki's character, a wonderfully unique evolution and it's blatantly obvious that he has been constrained into railroading the narrative into one where the "good guys" can win without having to reflect on their own ethics. Because that is what sells.

 Thank you for taking the time to read through my bizarre ramblings, ladies and gentlemen and as always, if you disagree, don't hesitate to explain why. Cordial discourse is, as I say, the keystone of keeping strong media alive.

[lilyliveredlittlerichboy]

This post has been making the rounds on jumblr and I've had a few different reactions so I just wanna weigh into some things here.

First up:

Jews I love you and I'm so glad that this little thoughtramble I wrote a month ago resonated with so many of you. I hope it helps with educating some people on just how widespread and insidious antisemitism is.

Secondly: I'm a gentile so I'm by no means an authority on these things. But a couple fellow gentiles in the notes are saying stuff along the lines of, "but can't we criticise billionnaires?"

To which I say, watch where you step, cus you're on thin ice. I've learned a litte the past few years and here's my conclusions:

Of course a lot of stuff a lot of billionnaires do is reprehensible. On the left we should absolutely be criticising them! The best way to do this while avoiding antisemitism is to be specific about who you're criticising, and what for.

E.g. "The people running Exxon, Shell and BP have been sweeping climate change under the rug for decades while actively contributing it, they think their profits are more important than sustaining life on earth and that's abhorrent. We need better laws and processes to stop them from poisoning the planet."

E.g. "Elon Musk is a ridiculous manchild who's ruining Twitter and endangering people with his self driving cars and stupid ideas. He's an entitled dickhead and his wealth is mostly derived from colonial exploitation that his parents did. He does not pay enough taxes on what he earns. We need better inheritance laws and to close tax loopholes that allow him and people like him to hoard wealth."

E.g. "Jeff Bezos exploits his workers and has an unfair monopoly over online shopping and other convenience services. He needs to pay his taxes and pay his workers more and we need better monopoly laws to stop businesses from being able to control the market like this."

Also, please consider your motives:

Are you trying to make a positive difference for, e.g. Amazon workers? Go ahead, raise awareness of their plight and push for unionisation.

Are you just trying to find a group that is acceptable to hate? Stop right there and reconsider. No matter how privileged or powerful that supposed group, you're wayyyyyy too close to bigoted talking points.

Are you just making sweeping statements in order to rile up emotions and get people on your side? That's fascist tactics. Please don't.

And especially,

If you find yourself wanting to say, "I'm not antisemitic, but--" Please just don't say whatever you were going to say. If you have to make that qualification, there is an extremely high probability that what you're about to say is, in fact, very antisemitic. Compare to "I'm not racist but-" or "I'm not transphobic but-" followed by the most vile bigotry you've ever heard. Don't be that person.

Lastly I want to highlight these as well:

Absolutely correct. The amount of times I've come across online bigots who are like "George Soros is funding BLM!" or "LGBTs are elites trying to plunge this country into immorality!" This is all antisemitism. In general just be wary of anyone wanting to blame "elites" or "rich people" (yeah even that one cus historically Jews are stereotyped to have money!!! and also not all rich ppl are inherently evil!!!!) or "shadow government" or "globalists" or "lizard people" or really, literally anything that seems to imply that a small, select group of people is secretly running the world: That's antisemitism baby. It's all antisemitism. It's disgustingly common.

By all means, criticise billionnaires. But be specific. It's one of the best ways to make sure it's not veering into antisemitism. We know who these billionnaires are, for the most part; we know their names and we know their crimes. Talk about them specifically.

It doesn't help if you just swap out "elites" with "billionnaires" or "the 1%" if the rest of your rhetoric remains the same. It sounds exactly the same to antisemites, and they will feel empowered. In truth, it is much more complicated than "billionnaires are running the world and fucking us all over"; some billionnaires are using their fortune for good, and they don't directly cause our problems - they may exploit a system that was set up long before they were born, sure, but your problems are also caused by Sue from accounting and your neighbour ratting you out to the authorities and that kid across the road yelling slurs at you. Your problems exist because society lets them exist, and that includes everyone. The system makes it hard to fight this, and sure, most billionnaires don't help the issue. But again if you're just looking for someone to hate on, it's very likely you're actually reinforcing oppression rather than "punching up".

Sweeping statements are dangerous and a lot of your talking points have been used to justify genocide in the past. Just cus the world's been a lil less overt about its antisemitism post-Holocaust, does not mean antisemitism has disappeared, far from it. And it's being revived at an alarming rate just now so please, Gentiles, pay attention to what the dogwhistles look like and don't reinforce harmful stereotypes.

Thank you.

PS: A few blogs that have helped me unlearn and unpack antisemitism are @spacelazarwolf, @hadeantaiga and @gehe-lihiyot-androgynos-varda with a special shout out to @softness-and-shattering for being very patient with me rambling about jewish/antisemitism related stuff in dms. Youre all soooo great n I appreciate you soooo much <3

There's also lots of Jewish ppl in the notes of this post, I'm sure a lot of them have lovely blogs to follow.

There's some reading recs in the notes as well:

Jews Don't Count by David Baddiel,

People Love Dead Jews by Dara Horn,

The Holocaust: A New History by Laurence Rees

I haven't read these books myself, I've read a preview of Jews Don't Count and it's on my list of books to order when I have more money, but basically, go look at what actual Jewish folks have written on the subject, I'm just a random Gentile who doesn't like bigotry so don't take it just from me.

me a few years ago: its so weird how right wingers always wanna blame the "elite" given that alot of them are in the global 1% of wealth and therefore almost by definition the same "elite" they claim to hate. weird right? lol right wing logic makes no sense

me now: oh my god they mean Jewish people. its always been Jewish people. and the insistence of online leftists to use words like "elite" and "cabal" (to refer to a handful of ultra rich people who dictate a lot of how our lives are run) kinda makes them sound like antisemites too. maybe this whole idea that the world is run by a select few is a gross oversimplification which only serves to reinforce antisemitic stereotypes... oh no. maybe i have a lot of shit to unlearn. maybe i need to start vocally defending Jewish ppl. also local community building is the only way out of this

[irelletelouxffxiv]

“...Irelle….”

“…Irelle!”

He wakes up from his slumber… Convinced somebody had just called to them. Yet, their surroundings are barren. They quickly realize that whatever it was… is not there anymore. “What just happened?” they mumble to themselves.

Irelle had recently gone through some abhorrent shit, which has been spiking their dreams to be insanely… bizarre. They have been coping through whatever measures they can, and recently that has been one thing and one thing only: getting absolutely blackout drunk.

So Irelle asking himself “What just happened?” was not a response to someone calling out his name, it was a questioning of “Why I am laying in the middle of this pavement?”

They absolutely cannot remember a thing about how they got to where they are now… they drank a little too much… God knows how many days have passed… “…. fuck” she mutters, grabbing her head while slouching on the floor. The pain in their body speaks more than the words coming out of her mouth, the hangover is unfathomably painful…

The past few weeks, months, years have been rough, and Irelle truly was at their limit. Their head was foggy, and there was no way of evaporating that inner cloudiness. Not that Irelle minded, as the fogginess was easier to deal with than the pounding thoughts of doom, however every now and then… the bullshit would resurface. It was best for himself and everyone around him to drink and forget these worries.

….

Irelle asks herself “How long was I out for?” as if anyone nearby is actually there to answer. Not even the inner thoughts that have been haunting her are there to answer that.

He starts analysing his surroundings, if no one was willing to answer then they would find out for themselves! After all they are a special agent! Yes yes! …

....

....

....

…That has been due to get to work for at least a week now… Although who knows, it may have been longer… There is no way of knowing for sure. Considering the amount of agony their body is in though, it has been significantly longer.

With the gut-wrenching feeling of being sober and late, Irelle remembers where she is now… They are in Ul’dah and they are overdue to meet a colleague who needs help with an investigation. They have no idea what this colleague looks like just yet, so they have been taking their leisurely time getting as pissed as possible. I’m sure Irelle’s colleague won’t mind.

With that in mind Irelle stands up, ruffling her hair while sighing “Fuuuuck… Guess I have to get to work… But first I need to get a drink”.

[meowdarame]

𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 & 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

pairings: izana kurokawa x f!reader (afab/reader; she/her pronouns)

synopsis: izana welcomes you to the family with a “special sano tradition” that’s been passed down for generations… or at least that’s what he told you it was.

warnings: NSFW/DC; 18+ MINORS DNI!; izana is aged up to 22, reader is 21; dom!izana and sub!reader; reader is adopted; pseudocest; watersports; brief mention of actual incest (but absolutely none happens); mentions of penetrative sex at the end; lmk if there’s anything i missed!

word count: 1.8k

notes: written for my birth month event, for she’s a jolly good fellow! this is filthy, so PLEASE read the warnings before proceeding. as always, likes and reblogs are super, duper appreciated!

beta readers: @christeningsakusa

Izana thinks he might be the luckiest man to ever walk the face of the earth.

You sit prettily on the ground in front of him, your hands resting delicately on the plush flesh of your exposed thighs. Brows curiously raised and eyes innocently wide— he almost wants to pull his phone out of his pocket and take a picture of your compromising position. Almost. If his family and friends found out about the morally abhorrent way he was about to defile his precious adopted sister, what would they think of him? It already took him years to become acclimated to the Sano family home; he can’t alienate himself once more.

So, with better judgment at the forefront of his mind, he decides against snapping that photo.

“Izana,” your meek voice breaks through the thick quietness, sounding so sweet in Izana’s ears. “So this is really a Sano family tradition?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, patting your head a few times before his hands fly to the buckle of his belt. “It’s an initiation ritual that’s been passed down for generations, specifically meant for Sano women on their golden birthday. They say it makes our family bond stronger.”

He has no idea how you could fall for such a blatantly obvious lie. A part of him feels kind of bad about it— he feels horrible for taking advantage of your trust in your beloved older “brother,” whom you might even love more than you love yourself. But there’s a sneaking suspicion that rests in the back of his mind, and it’s that you just don’t know any better. And if that’s the case, then he doesn’t feel as bad about the predicament. It’s not his fault that you’re so gullible.

Metal clinking sounds fill the room as Izana undoes his belt, and your eyebrows furrow in thought. Biting your lip, you shyly ask, “So if that’s the case, does that mean that Shin and Mikey are gonna have to do this to me too?”

“No.” He snaps back harshly, way too quickly for his pride. The thought of Mikey taking what’s his makes a shiver travel up and down his spine, and he has to pinch his eyes shut and shake his head a few times to get rid of the feeling. He exhales and scours the depths of his mind to come up with a believable excuse.

“No, Shin and Mikey aren’t going to do this with you,” he continues on after a few seconds of tense silence. “It’s always the brother that’s closest in age to the adopted sister. And since I’m 22, Mikey’s 19, and you’re turning 21, that means that I get the honor of practicing this special ritual with you.” A twisted grin spreads across his lips and he boops the tip of your nose, eliciting a cute giggle to slip past your lips. But once your mirth subsides, another question pops up into your painfully inquisitive mind.

Why do you have to ask so many fucking questions?

“So if that’s the case, does that mean that Mikey… and Emma…”

“No,” Izana angrily spits out, even faster than before. “That’s disgusting. Don’t even think about finishing that thought.”

Your bottom lip juts out into a pout and quivers. “I-I’m sorry, Izana. I didn’t mean to make you mad— I was just a little bit confused… You said it was disgusting, so does that mean…”

He sighs, squatting down to your eye level. His calloused palm softly cradles your face, running his thumb back and forth over your cheek. “I know, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’m not mad. The reason why I said it was gross is because they’re half-siblings. They’re related to each other, but we’re not. But still, you’re family now, and even if we don’t share the same blood, we can share other things with each other, right?”

Processing his words, you slowly nod your head. It’s hesitant at first, but when Izana smiles back at you, your movements gain more confidence, until you look so cutely eager and ready to take everything he has to give you.

“Good girl,” he coos, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Why don’t we take this dress off, yea? It’s way too pretty to get dirty.” In reality, he wants you to keep the skimpy little thing on. If he had it his way, he would desecrate both you and that dress, leaving the piece of fabric as a reminder that you’re his and his only. But alas, it would just act as evidence, and he can’t be reckless and get caught— so, with every ounce of strength in his body, he slides the dress’s thin straps off your shoulders, exposing your pretty tits to his ravenous eyes.

He stands while you shimmy the dress off of the rest of your body. Looking down at you, he grows drunk off of the lewd sight before him. Completely bare, you try your best to cover your chest with your arm, and you clench your thighs together to hide yourself from his intense stare.

“C’mon, pretty, no need to hide from me. I’ve seen you naked so many times; why are you still so shy with me, hm?” Izana tilts his head in faux sympathy, waiting for your response.

“I know,” you shakily exhale as you remove your arm from your chest and spread your thighs apart for him. “It’s just that it’s different this time. After this, I’ll finally be fully integrated into the family. So does that mean that you and I… That we’ll no longer be able to—”

The sound of his zipper sliding down interrupts your sentence. “Oh sweetheart, nothing will ever change our relationship. Is that why you’re so hesitant about all of this?”

Your head drops and you look down at your hands, nodding slightly. A shy “yes” gets caught in your throat, and it makes Izana’s heart swell to know that you’re scared of losing him.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll still fuck you ‘til you cum— all you need to do is ask.” he reassures you as he slides down his pants and boxers in one solid motion. He’s fucking hard as a brick, so he knows it’ll be exponentially more difficult and painful to complete the “ritual” with his aching erection. Still, he can’t really blame himself, especially when you look so beautiful and bare beneath him.

“After this, we’ll still love each other the way we did before, but we’ll just be a little bit closer.”

A saccharine smile spreads across your lips, spanning from ear to ear. “Okay,” you whisper. “I’m ready.” Closing your eyes and pursing your lips, you crane your neck and let the rest of your muscles relax as you await his next move.

“Good girl,” Izana purrs, taking his hardened cock in his hands and aiming it at your chest. “Just stay like that for me, beautiful.”

It takes Izana a few seconds of arduous concentration to even break his seal. At first, the clear fluid sprays out uncontrollably, but after a few seconds of undivided focus, it streams out of his sensitive slit. It sizzles your skin when it hits your tits, shooting sparks of warmth all over your body. The liquid runs down your torso, pooling at the creases of your thighs before spilling onto the towel laid out underneath you.

In hindsight, Izana’s glad you insisted that he drink a lot of water before performing the “ritual.” You explicitly told him that if you saw any streak of yellow, you’d back out before the fluid could even land on your skin. At first, he was a little upset by your insistence, specifically because the mental image of the yellow liquid splattering off of your skin excited him. But right now, he’s thankful that you were so stubborn. It takes him a solid minute to empty his entire bladder, and once the stream starts to weaken and fully disappear, he shakes his dick to get rid of the last few droplets of his waste.

You slowly open your eyes once he finishes. Your cheeks heat up in equal parts embarrassment and pride— embarrassment from the sticky and wet feeling permeating your body and pride from finally being a fully-fledged Sano family member.

“See, it wasn’t that scary, right?”

“No it wasn’t scary at all, Izana!” You beam, a giant smile spreading across your face. “Thank you for being so gentle with me.”

A soft smile spreads across his face, his tan cheeks coloring with a pretty pink tint. “Of course. You’re my precious angel; I have to treat you with the tender care that you deserve.”

Giggling at his sweet compliments, you stand from the ground, holding onto Izana’s arm for stability. Little droplets of his fluids drip down your skin and fall onto the floor; after stepping off of the towel, he picks it up from the ground and presses the fluffy fabric to your skin to dry you off.

“There,” Izana hums. “All dry now. Let’s get you cleaned up, yea?”

“Only if you shower with me!”

He throws his head back and a chuckle erupts from deep in his chest. “Don’t worry, my love. I will— it’s only natural!”

You hold his hand as he leads you to the bathroom across the hall— Izana’s thankful that Grandpa Sano and Mikey are gone for the weekend to visit Emma in college. It gives him more freedom to fuck you as hard as he wants without fearing of someone walking in on you both. They’ll be returning home tomorrow morning though, so he has to make tonight count.

As Izana turns the water on and waits for it to heat, he turns to face you. “Sweetheart, would you like to make love tonight? Now that you’re fully initiated into the family, I’d like to show you how much I love you.”

You excitedly nod your head. “I’d like that very much, Izana.”

He helps you step into the shower before stepping inside and standing behind you. He lets the hot water run down his body and relax his tired muscles. And though the water may wash away the sins of tonight, the memory will remain forever in Izana’s mind.

He feels your arms wrap around his waist, your sweet voice resounding off of the shower walls. “Thank you for everything. I love you.”

He embraces you back, one of his palms cradling the back of your head. “I love you more,” he whispers so softly that only you can hear it; the noise from the running water acts as a shield from the outside world, hiding his taboo romantic feelings for you from judgmental eyes.

But even if the world were to find out and crucify him, he’d gladly let them. He’d never deny his love for his darling little “sister.”

taglist: @shibuyawardnetwork @bxnten @sabyss @petalsrdead @ohtobiors @frenchtoastmafia @devilgirlcrybabiey @chaotic-fangirl-blog @semisgroupie @dessceased @sunat2508 @wifetotomurashigaraki @rueren @rinsie @portfolio-of-dreams @crystal-lilac @21-06-1996 @sweeneyblue1 +++ @shujismutt @mitsuika my resident izana fuckers and @sugusshi because you seemed excited from my teaser post heh <3 and @miya-dynasty BECAUSE I ACCIDENTALLY MISREAD MY TAGLIST FORM AND GOT YOU CONFUSED W/ SOMEONE ELSE LMAO ILY

[myherowritings]

PART 4. HOW THE RICH SUCK THEIR OWN DICKS

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.9k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji makes an appearance bleh, enji being classist, enji...ew, okay i swear most of the chapter is shouto and y/n being cute though 

A/N. ngl i have genshin brainrot real bad at the moment but i still have motivation for ceo!shouto and ceo!shouto only u.u there are only 7 parts to this series so we’re at the halfway mark already AHHH i hope u enjoy reading and lmk what u think!! :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

Shouto’s day went from good to bad faster than it took to pull an espresso. 

It started off with a good morning text from you and having a brief, but pleasant, interaction at your work. Actually, the past few weeks have been going along a similar routine that he found himself settling into all too comfortably. You even upheld your promise of stealing him away one weekend to walk around the park, get food, and just have time to relax and be happy for once. 

Getting to be in your presence almost daily became so normalized in his life that even some of his employees heard about the cute barista with the best pastries. Yet, although he saw you often, he found himself wanting to talk to you more and more.

But for now, Shouto told himself to settle with starting the mornings off with you. They were the best mornings he’s had in a while and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful. 

Today, however, went sour fast after he heard his father was coming up to the top floor for a meeting with him. He didn’t find the idea of Enji visiting to be the most abhorrent thing, but the moment his father opened his mouth, Shouto quickly took that back. 

As expected, his father reminded him about the annual charity gala Todoroki Enterprises was expected to attend. Handfuls of galas ran through the year, but the once hosted by Naruhata Industries under the guise of raising money and awareness for the charities of choice.

In theory, a charity gala ball sounded humanitarian and a way for the upper class to give back, but in reality, most of the funds collected didn’t go to the actual charities, instead they went to paying for the venue, live bands, entertainment, the most expensive catering, decorations, and more. What presented itself as a charitable event in the eyes of the public was really a way rich people could flaunt their wealth and feel good about themselves for doing absolutely nothing to benefit society. A way for the rich to suck their own dicks, if you would. 

Shouto absolutely hated it. 

It was also a press opportunity and, in his father’s eyes, a way to gain public favor for the Todoroki business. Today, Enji attempted to tell him that bringing a date that fit the mold of high society was the best way for him to establish rapport through media coverage. Apparently, the image news outlets have placed on Shouto were either a heartbreaker and playboy with no care for other’s emotions, or a monotonous stoic who seemed like a robot with no care for other’s emotions.

In either cases, there seemed to be a theme of Shouto not caring for others. 

He sighed. 

“You can’t keep that image, Shouto,” said Enji with his arms folded across his chest. “If the media sees you with someone—a nice girl with a good upbringing—then your likeability will increase tenfold. If there’s no one you like, I’ll have to set up a date for you.”

For a while, he was torn between telling his dad to fuck off and trying to do as he said to keep peace within the family. But then, an image of you popped into his head.

“Actually, there is someone I like.” 

Enji narrowed his eyes. “Oh? An educated girl with wealthy parents?”

“There’s someone I like,” he simply repeated, the tone in his voice growing cold. 

He didn’t know anything about your upbringing or family nor did he exactly care. Shouto didn’t want to bring a date to the dumb gala, but if he had to, he would want it to be you. Only if you agreed, of course. But if you weren’t willing, then he had to face the facts that his father would most likely force a date of his own choosing upon Shouto. 

“That’s good you like someone, son,” Enji said through his teeth, “but we have to make sure it’s not some sort of...loose woman. That’d be even worse publicity—”

“I like someone and if you really cared about my happiness like you said you did, that’d be enough.”

There was a tense silence in the air. Shouto didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times Enji had told him and his siblings that he would try to be a better dad. A caring dad who only wanted what was best for his children. A better husband for Rei. A better example for the public. The first few times, Shouto believed it. But Enji said the same things over and over again with no lasting change and Shouto was just fed up. 

After hearing the same lie told to him over and over again, it seemed to lose its weight. He seemed to lose his hope in his father ever changing.

Still, Shouto had to deal with him for as long as he lived. That much he knew as a son living in this society. 

But he hoped Enji at least had enough guilt to let him have this.

“Fine.”

Shouto blinked in surprise. 

Enji stated, “If you think your date can help your public image and not be a complete embarrassment to the business, you can bring them.”

That was the closest thing to approval Shouto would get today. He nodded and listened along to whatever else his father had to say, the only thing actually on his mind was thinking about how he would ask you out on a date to some stuffy gala. And hope that you’d say yes.

— ✩ —

“Wait, so, let me get this straight— You’re the CEO of Todoroki Enterprises and even after almost two months of knowing you, I had no clue?”

He inclined his head, looking solemn. “Yes, I’m sorry. Are you upset with me for not telling you sooner?” 

Initial shock aside, you couldn’t say that you were too surprised at the revelation. You knew Shouto was wealthy and probably in some high-up position in the business industry, but you never knew to what extent. A CEO? That had to be the highest rank in a company! And a company as well known as Todoroki Enterprises? 

The thought made you a little nervous. The guy you slowly befriended over the course of short cafe visits and silly texts was Mr. Todoroki? Or worse— The guy you stole away from doing work for a whole weekend was someone as busy as a CEO? You internally groaned. That had to be against laws of the universe or something. 

“I’m not upset, no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I just...can’t believe it I guess.” Eyes widening, you were quick to amend your words. “Well, I can believe it. You seem very intelligent and well-put together and, uh, rich! But I guess I just didn’t think a CEO would be so funny and kind.” You winced. “Oh no, is that mean to say?”

“I don’t think it’s mean.” He shrugged. “You’re right to say most people in this field aren’t known for their delightful temperaments.” 

You absentmindedly drummed your finger against your thigh, trying to process this new information. “So you’re Todoroki Shouto...and you want me to be your date to the Naruhata Charity Ball?” 

“Yeah. I know it’s a huge favor to ask, and I promise you can say no if you choose,” said Shouto in earnest. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree.” 

With a hum, you stretched your legs out under the table before crossing one over the other again. It was a Saturday afternoon where you had no work and Shouto managed to escape from his for a few hours of the day. You took him to your favorite ice cream place nearby and the two of you ate at a dining area outside the establishment. 

Just a mundane day as two friends hanging out with each other where you found out one of those friends was the chief executive officer of a billion dollar business headquartered in Japan. 

Totally normal, everyday occurrences, obviously. 

“And you need a date for this event?” you asked. In all honesty, you would be more than happy if Shouto asked you out on a date. He was fun and you enjoyed getting to know him. But these particular circumstances made you a tad bit more nervous.

“I normally wouldn’t need to bring one, but my father insists it’d help my public image and in turn the image of the company.” With a pinched look on his face, he took a bite of his ice cream. “In other words I bring a date or he picks one for me.” 

You weren’t the most caught up on super rich people drama, but it was almost infamous how estranged the Todoroki family was. Again, you didn’t know much but you did know enough to say that Todoroki Enji seemed like a Class A asshole. If you could help Shouto out with his weird dilemma, you saw no reason not to. 

“So this charita gala is like where they have those live auctions and silent auctions and get tipsy on fancy wine and champagne for hours right?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Have you attended one?” 

“Not quite,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I’ve volunteered at one in school though. As one of those runners? It was fun. I got a bunch of those tiny complimentary candies!” Your mouth watered at the memory. “What kind of drug were in those candies? I’ve never had candy so good before!”

“The tiny, circular candies with the excessively big wrapper? The fruity ones?”

You shot up in your seat, excited he knew what you were talking about. “Yes! That’s the one!” 

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “I always see those at these types of events.”

“So… The candy will be there at the gala you want me to accompany you to?” 

“Most likely.”

“Can I take a bunch of those from candies there…?” you asked with an optimistic grin.

“I’ll be your accomplice in sneaking them out.”

“It’s a date!” you said before Shouto could get another word out. 

You’d be reunited with those yummy, fancy candies you’ve been separated from for far too long. What other reason did you need to agree? 

With a determined look on your face, you held your hand out for Shouto to shake to seal the deal. 

He blinked. “Wait. Did you want to discuss it some more? Maybe have a few days to think it through? I’m grateful, of course, but I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“No. I won’t regret it. I’d do anything to taste those candies again.”

Shouto looked unsure what to say. “Isn’t there some parable warning people not to be bribed by candy?”

“Not to take candy from a baby?”

“No. Not that one.”

“That’s the only one I know.”

“Never mind then.” 

The two of you exchanged confused looks before letting out fits of laughter. You weren’t sure if either of you knew exactly what the other was laughing at, but the moment was an enjoyable one nonetheless. 

“Yet another reason to bring me to that fancy event— I’ll make sure you’re entertained all the way through,” you playfully bragged, smoothing down the front of your shirt. 

“The event will definitely be more bearable with you there.” He licked a small bit of his ice cream from his pink spoon, making a sound of approval. “But you can change your mind about coming at any time, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you said, holding a pinky out. “Pinky promise.”

With what seemed like a bashful expression on his face, Shouto extended his own pinky to interlock yours. You sealed it with a kiss and a heart, like you were a kid again. 

“Now, am I supposed to be in love with you at the gala?” you asked nonchalantly, finishing off your last bite of ice cream. He offered you a spoonful of his and you tried not to grow too flustered at Shouto feeding you his dessert. You murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

He gave you a small smile. “You’re welcome. As for being in love… I don’t think that’s necessary. Just pretend you like being around me, I think.”

Under the table, you nudged his shoe with yours, pulling a face. “I don’t have to pretend about that, silly.” 

“Ah, well,” he paused, offering you another spoonful of ice cream, “I don’t either.”

“I’m glad.” Then, “Is this strawberry? I was never a big strawberry ice cream fan but for some reason this tastes so good.” 

You ignored the nagging voice in your head that said maybe it wasn’t so much the ice cream flavor but who you were enjoying it with. 

The two of you finished his dessert in peace and after cleaning up the area with a napkin, Shouto turned to you with an intent look on his face.

“Before the gala, would you mind if I talk you shopping so you could pick out what to wear?” he asked. “I would pay of course— It’s the least I could do to say thank you.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me! You’re my friend and I want to help.” You thought about it for a moment. “And get the candy.”

“Anything for the candy.”

“Exactly,” you said in complete seriousness. “But I wouldn’t mind going shopping with you. You could help me decide what to wear! I’m not exactly sure how to dress for an event as fancy as this.”

“You could wear anything to the event and still look amazing.” His words were ones of flattery but his tone sounded completely genuine. 

Heat rose to your cheeks at the compliment. “Look who’s talking— You’re practically runway ready no matter what time of day.”

“I’ve never walked a runway before.”

You stifled a laugh at his literal interpretation of your words. Cute. “Me neither.”

He looked confused at why you were grinning, but it still brought a smile to his own lips.

By now the sun had begun to set and Shouto was walking you to the train to see you off before you went home.

“Can I pick you up next weekend in the morning?” he said. “So we can get your outfit for the gala?”

“Sure! I’ll text you my address.” 

He nodded in contentment. “And again, you don’t have to worry about any costs.”

“Is this why my friends have called you a sugar daddy?” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked down the street, side-by-side. “But thank you. Shopping will be fun— We can even match colors!” 

“Mn.” He looked between the both of you, as if trying to picture what colors would complement each other. 

You crossed the sidewalk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the scenery by Shouto’s side. A few times, you even felt his knuckles brush against yours and you had the undeniable urge to hold his hand. Would that be weird? you asked yourself before deciding against it. 

Just because he asked you to be his date for the Naruhata Charity Ball didn’t mean he actually liked you, right? It was just a favor from a friend to a friend.

Something about that though made your stomach unsettled. Maybe part of you wanted it to be a real date— Wanted this to be a real date. 

“So I won’t be seeing you tomorrow,” you said after a moment’s silence, trying not to look too dejected. 

You knew he’d still text good morning and good night and ask you random things throughout the day (all of which you found really endearing, by the way), but it was still different from seeing him in person. Even though your time together in the morning was small, they still were enough to make your day. The thought of your waking hours being so entwined made you nervous, but for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. In fact, it was sort of...nice. 

“I’ll see you Monday morning, right?” you asked hopefully, though you were already fairly certain of the answer.

Shouto nodded. “Of course. It’s already marked on my calendar.”

“Ever the flatterer, hmm?” 

“Not flattery, just the truth.” He pulled his phone out and showed you his (rather packed) calendar app. To your surprise, a little reminder that said ‘See Y/N :)’ was marked on his Monday schedule. 

Unable to stop the beam from spreading across your lips, you hid your face in your hands. Gosh— Did he have to be so cute? He was making it harder and harder to only like him as a friend. And even now, you weren’t sure if you liked him only as a friend.

But you pushed those thoughts away.

That was something to deal with at a later time.

When you reached the train station you normally took home, you turned to Shouto, giving him a big hug. He was tall and warm. You could feel his lean muscles through his button-down shirt as you rested your head against his chest and arms around his waist. 

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you again soon.”

After a pause, he gave you a hug back, hands rubbing hesitant circles on your back in a way that made you smile. “Text me when you get home safe,” he said as you both reluctantly released each other from an embrace.

“I will,” you promised. “You do the same! Later, Shouto!” 

And with that, you waved goodbye and boarded the train, unable to shake the unwavering grin on your face all the way home.

a/n: when shouto started feeding y/n spoonfuls of his ice cream i cried (Ｔ▽Ｔ) that’s so cUTE OF HIM LIKE PLS SIR STOP BEFORE I FALL MORE IN LOVE WITH U !! >:O he’s such a sweetheart ahhhh,, i hope all the fluff made up for the brief appearance of endeavor ಠ╭╮ಠ  FHDJKF 

what to expect in the next part:

shopping for the gala time !! 

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~ part 2

oh my, y/n has to try on dresses? oh my, it’d be a shame if they needed help putting it on :o *fake gasp* 

yeah things get just a lil steamy but shh

[meatshowers]

I've slept 5 hours in the past 72 and following the anti-trans legislation in the US means I'm exposed to detrans* rhetoric at truly toxic levels and I cannot fucking take it anymore. Attacks you like a wild animal.

1. So much of your target audience has Sunday school specific trauma. Work harder to not sound like the most satisfied fart sniffing Sunday school babysitter.

2. Who the fuck told you you HAD to have bottom surgery after top surgery? No one. I know it was fucking no one. MAYBE Noah the transmed but he is 13 and no one fucking likes him. So many people who desperately want and NEED bottom surgery cannot obtain bottom surgery. Trans healthcare is not this inescapable conveyor belt of sin - it takes IMMENSE EFFORT and MONEY and TIME to access any point of it. As you damn well know. You only think it's too easy because you think it shouldn't be obtainable at all.

3. "Oh I didn't hate being a woman I hated being seen as a woman so I thought being a man would be better :(" yes yes we've all been here. you can always tell the people saying this were not particularly gnc as kids because despite what we all like to think, tomboys are not actually treated with any more respect than any other girl.

And it really doesn't take much more thought or experience to tell you that being a trans man, even passing, even stealth, while it can absolutely provide benefits and privileges, the simple fact that we are trans means that threat of misogyny, gendered violence, transphobia, never fully leaves. It's always there, waiting for the slip. Transitioning is just not an effective way to "escape misogyny and/or homophobia" and I'm tired of entertaining dumbasses' ideas that it is.

4. 25? TWENTY FIVE. so cis people, they get to just live life, 25 whole years of it, as themselves. So, 25, that age where, here in the US at least, the system is set up with the expectation that you'll have gone to college, chosen a career, potentially even gotten married- all that *should be lived through*, even if you *know you're trans*, even if every day is a struggle, if those major life events are fundamentally shaped by having to live with dysphoria- just to *make sure*.

This is a big one with me, it's the ultimate one with me, really. why is it trans people have to prove a certain level suffering? That's been the paradigm really since the beginning of medical transition, and it's abhorrent. Why do trans people have to prove, to cis people, that we have suffered enough, suffered correctly, why do we have to grovel and beg for the mercy of cis society, even when that society has made it abundantly clear that no performance will ever grant us full validation and acceptance?

Suffering only "affirms" someone when the affirming party feels better knowing they've suffered. That does not come from a place of love.

4.B. What you wanna say is never. I transitioned at 27, after trying for years to convince myself I could live a mundane, boring, half-alive kinda life, because I'd done it for so long already and I could only see it getting worse. My dysphoria wasn't that bad after all. It's just a rock in my shoe. I don't even feel it most days. Really it's my fault when I do feel it- I know I shouldn't have moved that way.

Anyway, that's my biggest regret. Not letting myself live fully, for so long, listening to the oh so very concerned voices of you fucking people.

Have the day you deserve

*I say specifically detrans and not detransitioner here, because I see detrans people talk all the time about the "detrans movement"(ie the 4 women they fly out to every state legislature for their anti trans bills 🙄) . I do not know the preferred language by detransitoners who are not anti-trans, but this distinction has been made with the intent to separate and spare detransitoners as a whole from the wider political activism being done in their name.

"irreversible side effects of HRT" all of life is irreversible. i cannot go back a single second in time