#don't mind me too much

[wydstepcat]

Me venting a bit. (My personal experiences with Chiaki, and the fandom's perception of her.)

(Posted on Reddit as well, so my bad if some wording is a bit off.)

Hi everyone.

I wanted to make this post to let out some steam and to sort out my mind, and maybe some people here can relate/feel the same.

I want to start off by saying that in no way am i directly targeting someone with this post, or people who have some sort of differing opinion on her, you are allowed to dislike Chiaki, i just feel that the fandom is really downplaying her character.

Anyway, let's start with my initial reactions to Chiaki in both DR2 and DR3. My very first impressions of her was very... Eh. On the very surface to me she looked like a "waifubait" type character, really just made to make specific anime fans happy. I was wrong. I was SO wrong. Those feelings began to change around 2-4, when she became a lot more active and made her presence a lot more well known. The moment where i was like "Please don't die" was during the moment Chiaki convinced Hajime NOT to go in the final dead room. 

It was also during those chapters where i started with her FTE's (although i was kinda late, and i never had the time to finish it). 2-5 was THE moment i shed my first tear in the series, the way they built it up, how the survivors reacted to it, Usami's last words, Sonia's Rebuttal Showdown. it became the most memorable moment in the series for me. And after finishing it a day later, 2-6 extended that.

So, great right? That alone gave me a pretty damn good reason to make her my favorite character just for memorability alone. a few days later i started watching DR3. I was already semi-spoiled by her fate thanks to youtube, but i never watched the full execution to keep that a surprise for me still, good lord, somehow DR3 EXPANDED everything i love about Chiaki and more. Her sense of acting more "human". her friendship with Hajime, and Chisa, just. All of it. And I KNEW the writers knew, which is why they gave her such a cruel fate.

So, those where my initial reactions of Chiaki, and after finishing V3 i was finally unshackled from the horror called spoilers. It was also around this time i started becoming an actual fan of the entire series in general. I made my DR oriented Twitter account, i joined r/danganronpa, and began reading fics (Extra Life is one of the best DR related fan projects i've ever read, seriously.)

But, something was off. It seems to me that a lot of people didn't share a lot of the same things i felt. Now of course, i'm fine with that you know? People have differing opinions so i don't expect everyone to feel the same as me, but some where like, outright hostile or completely slandering the character, like "Chiaki was meant for fans to masturbate over" or "DR3 Chiaki is a character that shouldn't even exist in concept", and even in appreciation posts she gets shit on in the comments. Which is like, so weird to me, a lot of attention was put into making Chiaki such a subtle character, from the way she was written in both DR2 and DR3.

I felt completely and utterly alone in this for a while, and it made me feel really sad. It was not too long after where i met some people on tumblr chat, i prefer to keep their names anonymous, but they as well felt very similar to the things i was feeling, and we started to talk more. I learned they had their own server to vent about stuff like this, and we've been talking a lot more since. One of them told me that around 2017, they outright ditched the entire fandom altogether, and really only talk DR with the people they know. The other has pretty much ditched reddit and moved on to other social media websites, deemed a lot safer to communicate Danganronpa with. I've talked with some artists as well, who weren't even aware this was "still" happening.

So, that begs the question. I've seen a LOT of people straight up hating her, even outside reddit. Why does she keep being so popular? If i'm right, r/ultimategamer has THE most members out of ANY DR Character, she was placed #2 at the official character poll, and probably even more that i forgot to mention. 

Am i wrong about this? Do people really praise her for the character she is? It can't just be because of her looks right? There has to be more than that, right?

I left that subreddit yesterday. I decided that it does not offer any value to me other than the fact that Danganronpa Kirigiri got fully translated. And really, it feels like constant negativity and "unpopular opinions/tierlist" posts.

...That's all i wanted to say. I also want to make it clear that aside from SOME characters, I really like almost every single one lf them, flaws and all. I've become a lot more cynical on the franchise lately, like the negatives of DR3 overpowering the positives, and becoming a lot more hostile and negative as well. I hope that stepping away for a bit will improve it. I hope that anyone reading this felt some sort of relatability in regards to this, it would make me pretty happy to know I'm not alone in this.

[maeamian]

Part of the reason that Republicans are so desperately acting like they will never lose again is because they are deeply terrified that this is their last real chance to win. The big orange dipshit came in and gutted the party of everyone who wasn't a loyalist, which left it full of nasty little gremlins who have gaping voids where charisma and human decency is supposed to go.

They still hold a lot of power, but if we stop them this year the next presidential election may not be the Most Important One Of Your Life™, that's not a guarantee or anything, but if they don't win here and now their future looks grim, this dipshit is the only guy they have left and he's extremely diminished and has his brains leaking out of his ears at this point. We can beat him into the ground.

So that's what we're gonna fucking do. We're gonna break these fucking fash. They will crash upon us and we're gonna break their fucking necks. When they come for us they will lose because they're fucking losers and we have each other's backs which is something they fundamentally are incapable of comprehending.

[deeva-arud]

I'm diagnosed with Cater Diamond in the brain and there's no cure for it

[egophiliac]

CROWLEY SSR THOUGHTS

there is zero basis for this, but I can't get this thought of my head

I don't know why I decided to draw it this way

[candyvoncaramell]

tis settled i'm going to art college just to pick up girls. yes it might not give me money what EVS i'm gonna let myself get swept off my feet by a fat butch, literally the one art college woman i've met had buzzcut mullet i need to go to art college if only to meet a woman like that again

[qifreyplushie]

promise you'll never leave me

[nymphaforesta]

[angelsdean]

SPIRIT OF THE WEST: The Major Motion Picture

It's a summer evening in the late 90s and you and your friends are looking for something to watch at the slumber party. You go into your local Video & Variety and happen upon the coming of age romance, Spirit of the West. Let's hope this doesn't awaken anything in you....

SUMMARY:

Dean grew up on a horse farm and can't imagine any other life. There are drawbacks to working for his father, but they're worth it if it means remaining with his beloved horses. Besides, between his broken arm and his lack of prospects, he hasn't got much else.

Something of an outsider, Dean always feels like there's something he's missing. But this tense summer brings back a figure from his past: years ago, a teenaged Cas worked for a season at the Winchester ranch. His return could change everything.

Reviewers rave: "If you ever wanted a 90s horse girl book, but starring a young Dean Winchester, this is your flick."

Spirit of the West is written and directed by Teen_Dean / @urne-buriall

▶️ PLAY Spirit of the West ⏪ REWIND with Spirit of the West Prequel by @foolondahill17 ⏩ WATCH IT AGAIN with SOTW Daily 🌟 BONUS FEATURES ✨ Director's Commentary 🎶 The Official Motion Picture Soundtrack

[calumfmu]

i could send you a million requests!

having an affair with your divorce lawyer steve 😏

HIII HUNNNN. Thank you for your patience love <3 Here it is in all its glory, smut, smut, smut oooo Divorce Lawyer!Steve x Reader (2.3k+ words of pure smut) cw: 18+, mdni, smut, riding, unprotected sex, p in v, cream pie, dirty talk, ugh, all Steve goodness, set in NY, famous!reader,

Three drinks down, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you only had one thing on your mind. Freedom. It was seven months into this divorce--if you could even call it that. A messy separation, public legal dispute that was plaguing the city's newspapers, headlines screaming about the famous ex-ball player's divorce with New York's once most eligible bachelorette.

Hitting the town three days in a row seemed like a good idea in retrospect, but it was really starting to get to you and your reputation. But as you chased that sixth tequila shot with lime, it was the last thing on your mind.

"Hey, isn't that..." your friend's voice trailed off as she pointed her beer towards someone across the bar. You followed the point of the bottle, gaze focusing on a tall man--Steve.

A Cheshire grin spread across your face, eyes widening as you recognized him, his mole dotted face, thin wire glasses framing his face as he laughed with a group of other suits, those you knew as his colleagues.

"Oh my God," you whined, immediately downing the shot that was supposed to be for her. She protested, hands throwing up around her as she watched you finish it with a grimace. "What is he doing here?"

She shrugged, swigging out of the glass as she eyed him down. Her bobbed hair swung in the air as she tilted her head down to fully drink him in.

"You know if I was straight I'd be all over that," she replied, turning around to face the bar. Your eyes remained on the older guy, tongue darting out to lick at the corner of your mouth.

"Robin!" You squealed, swatting at her arm. She giggled in response, arm waving to capture the attention of the bartender.

"I'm just saying," her tone was suggestive, eyebrows wiggling with her words. "You should just get after it, I mean... see what Harrington & Partner really has to offer."

You considered her point, your own head tilting down to observe him as his head tilted back with laughter. From across the bar, you could see the stretch of his neck, the expanse of skin being exposed to show more moles, disappearing behind the fitted collar of his dress shirt. The dark bar lighting did wonders for him, highlighting the amber high lights of his hair, showing off the small gray wisps that poked out at his hairline, a testament to how men age like fine wine.

"I've already seen what it has to offer," you said under your breath, grabbing her beer out of her hand. She whined again as you finished it off, slamming it on the counter behind you. "And I want more."

Her jaw dropped, eyes widening as she took in your words.

"What do you mean you've already seen it?"

Laughing, you took a step away from her, bag fitted over your shoulder as you adjusted the dress you wore. "Long story. Late night. Tedious divorce papers. Did I say that out loud?"

She reached a hand out to you, but you dodged it, backing away from her as you made your way over to his group. Her eye roll was enough for you to know you were making a bad decision, but you couldn't care. Your mind was set on one thing only.

"Steve!" You cheered, waving at him as he looked at you confused. Immediately, his gaze dipped across your figure, dress hugging your curves in all the right places.

He covered it up with a cough, eyes widening as he suddenly realized he was in the presence of those he worked with. The sound of your name rolled off of his lips, a surprised cackle of speech.

"What are you doing here?" It was less of a question and more accusatory.

Your mouth dropped open in a wide smile as you held your arms out. "Celebrating my separation, freedom."

Realization crossed his features as your words slurred, the intoxication becoming clear as you lingered a little too close for comfort. The men he surrounded himself with eyed you as well, eyes flickering over you as you teetered on the heels in your feet.

"Ah," he muttered, tongue smacking against his teeth as he took a step back. His hand came up to adjust the tie that was fitted around his neck. "I see. Just a few months away from that."

The suits laughed, deep chuckles of laughter that screamed money. Old money, New York money, jurisprudence, whatever you wanted to call it. Rolling your eyes, you felt all the confidence of the tequila shots you took, pressing a hand to his arm. His eyes dropped to it, slowly dragging away to peer down at you over his wire frames.

"Excuse me," he said to the group, placing a hand to your lower back to drag you away from them. He lead you through the crowd, pressing you into a dark corner of the swanky bar. On the way, you had seen Robin, her thumbs up thrown in your direction.

"What are you doing?" He whispered again, backing you into a wall. He towered over you, immediately, you were weak in the knees, this interaction normally being behind the closed doors of his 30th story office.

Your hand found his arm again, trailing up the expanse of it as you craned your head back, a soft bump against the wall.

"Having fun," you sighed, biting your lip as he took a step closer to you. His scent overwhelmed you, warmth beginning to pool into the pit of your stomach as you rested a foot up against the wall.

"This is a bad look," he suddenly grew professional, straightening up as your hand left his arm and began to trail down his abdomen.

You rolled your eyes, dragging out a groan that bordered childish.

"You're a bad look," you retorted, reaching up to grab the lapels of his suit. Tugging him closer to you, you pressed your lips to the side of his neck. "You're wearing too many clothes."

He pulled away from you again, clearing his throat as he urged you from the wall. Fast in his movements, his hand was at the small of your back, pulling you towards a back exit, one you were unaware that was even there.

A black Lincoln sat in an alleyway, the door opening as he threw you in the backseat. You rolled your eyes as you sat up, pulling down your skirt as he slid in behind you. He muttered something to a driver, the car already moving as the world began to spin around you.

"You can't have people seeing you like this," he muttered, shaking his head as he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttered shut.

"Relax, nobody saw."

"Hmm," he was annoyed, the tone of his voice short. "You don't know that for sure. There's too much at stake right now, especially with the way his side is going."

You groaned, leaning fully into him as you began to trail a hand over his body. Touching any skin you could get was the only thing you were focused on, hastily unbuttoning his shirt as the car began to make turns throughout the city. He didn't oppose, only settled into the back seat of the vehicle even further.

"I don't want to talk about him."

You climbed into his lap, squeezing in the small space as you pressed your lips to his. His hands found your ass, squeezing as he ground you down into him. The stubble on his face scratched at yours, your jaw rubbed raw as the two of you made out, tongues fighting against each other.

"I think you're," he muttered in between kisses, his hands beginning to lift your skirt as your hands found his belt buckle. "The worst client I've ever had."

"Mmmm," you groaned, pulling his belt buckle loose. It clanked in the air, followed by the sound of the driver sliding the separation window closed. "Talk dirty to me, Harrington."

He laughed into the kiss, lips slotting into yours perfectly as you freed him from his pants. His cock was angry red, swollen through its length as you briefly looked down to grip at him. The girth of it alone had you watering at the mouth, wishing you had the freedom to sink to your knees.

You pulled away from him, pressing him back down into the cushion of the seat as he chased your mouth, leaning up as he wanted more. He groaned at your touch, his head leaning back against the headrests.

"Need you to fuck me," you whispered, adjusting so the cave of your pussy sat right over him. A pant escaped him as he felt your wetness, encasing him as you grinded down on him.

"You're gonna get me fired, hun," he moaned, teeth digging into his lip as you lifted off of him, angling him so his head pressed at your entrance. The small stretch of his tip had you mewling, the intoxication of the alcohol leaving your body as you got drunk off of a new feeling.

"We've barely left Manhattan," the grunt of words only worsened as you pressed lower, his length stretching you wide. His hands found your hips, guiding you lower.

Your knees sat on the sides of his hips, locking him in as you stopped half way, hovering above him. With your head tilted back, staring up at the ceiling of the car, your eyes watered, the heat of the moment making you so caught up that you cursed at your previous idea of skipping the foreplay.

"You talk too much," you whispered, pressing all the way down. Stretched down to the hilt, the both of you sat in silent groans, his hand finding the back of your neck to press his forehead into yours.

From this angle, you could see the chocolate brown of his eyes, sunken with desire, his lids hooded in pleasure.

"fuck." The hand that never left your hip raised you, a soft squelch filling the back seat as your wetness dripped around him.

As you began to bounce on his cock, his moans began to grow louder, fingers digging marks into your hip. The press of his cock deep inside made you feel weak, that spongy spot not being granted mercy as he drove into you.

"Steve," you groaned, swirling your hips as he mouthed at your neck, deep colored marks being left in his wake. The heat of his touch added to the fire pooling in your belly, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

Look at my dirty girl.

His words could've gotten you right then and there, if it were not for the alcohol in your system prolonging your orgasm. You loved it when he called you names like that, claiming you as his even when you both knew you weren't.

Such a bad girl.

That one had you squeezing your eyes even tighter, your hands resting on the tops of his shoulders as you rode him, bouncing in a frenzy that he had yet to see. The scratch of his suit pants against your ass was oddly soothing, distracting you from the white hot feeling building faster and faster.

"Need you to fuck me harder," you whimpered, reaching a hand up to tug at his hair. The sounds he made to the yank on his scalp had you pulling closer to your orgasm, legs shaking as he began to match you half way, hips lifting off of the seat.

A ring of white began to form at the base of his cock, wetness from your pussy building into a thick cream, your release teetering on the edge. He was close to his own release, his breath coming short as he fucked you, hips moving into an uneven pattern.

"Gonna cum all in you i-if you keep talking like that," he tried being strong in his words, but his voice failed him, cracking in the middle.

A small smile ghosted your lips, knowing exactly what it would take to get him to paint you white, release deep inside of you.

"Cum inside me," you whined, sinking lower as you pressed your lips to the shell of his ear. Your voice was low, scratchy from the frequent moans, borderline shouts he drew out of you.

"Make me yours, Steve."

He groaned, hands locking behind your hips as he began to drive into you, slapping sounds filling the air. Your hand snaked down to circle at your clit, tight circles around the nub that had your eyes rolling back.

"Show everyone who's pussy this really is."

With a low groan, he came inside you, fucking you through it as you found your release quickly after. It was the loudest one you had experienced, legs shaking as explosions tingled up your spine. His hips never slowed, riding out both of your highs.

You pushed off of him, collapsing into the empty leather next to him, legs sprawled wide open. Your chest heaved with exhaustion, yet adrenaline still coursed through you, tequila urging another round already.

"How soon do you think is too soon for me to marry my divorce lawyer?"

He laughed at your words, tucking himself away as he peered out the window. The city lights were far in the background, familiar streets nearing his home coming up in the distance.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, dear," he shook his head, leaning down onto you to press a kiss to your forehead anyways. You beamed at the press of his lips, tilting your head closer to him.

The look in his eyes that he gave you was sweet, something that you had once yearned for from your now-ex. You knew it was wrong, to be this smitten over your divorce lawyer, but God, was he beautiful.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

also--not proofread, but should be in the next week or so :)

[somewhereincairparavel]

i have ALWAYS promptly looked forward to jason grace's povs in the hoo books to the point where'd I'd flip the pages till I find the words "JASON" and would count the amount of povs he has in the whole book before I even finished reading, so I feel excited knowing that I'll get to his povs soon. there, I said it.

[starcurtain]

Sometimes I think about Aventurine in the moment he first discovered his Pathstrider abilities. The moment he first realized he could shield not only himself but also others. The very first moment he realized he could be a source of safety, rather than a burden--than a curse.

Sometimes I think about the hatred he must have felt for himself in that instant.

Where was this power when their camps were burned to the ground with every last one of their meager possessions? Where was this power when his mother died begging as he cowered, playing dead in a bath of the blood of everyone he knew?

Where was this power when his sister stood tall, a silhouette against the lightning, and used her body as the shield? Where was this power in the maze, when it could have spared the screaming child who was the first to die?

You could have saved them. You could have saved them. You could have saved them.

[shimmershy]

Buttercups and Golden Flowers

[euryleli]

I genuinely don't think Will's love for Mike is THAT obvious and I kind of hate it when it's presented like that in fanfics...

Mike is always so oblivious and it feels out of character too, maybe I'm just annoying but it makes me insane to see another piece of text where Mike is just this idiotic airheaded boy who's not even in the denial phase - he's portrayed as completely clueless regarding his feelings and identity which sounds dumb to me I'm so sorry

You could argue Mike knows something's up since s1 and s2 (subconsciously at the very least) but after that ending in s3?? When he talks to Will and then El kisses him (while his eyes are wide open and he then proceeds to space out in front of Will's closet looking so confused and weirded out and honestly kind of panicked??)

That boy KNOWS!! What he doesn't know are Will's feelings and their reciprocity. I really dislike fanfics situated right after s4 or hell, a few years down the line maybe, where Mike still doesn't seem to have even an inkling of his identity figured out.

Because that's not what the show is telling us.

Is he confused? Yes.

Is he frightened? Absolutely.

Is he dealing with crippling amounts of internalized homophobia? Of course!

Is he a dumbass? Yes (affectionate), but still... he's not that bad guys please let's be serious for a sec

[iamhereinthebg]

The clock keepers deserve to have the full shaded promo art for their volume 🙏🙏

Edit: I HAVE THEM ALL!!!

[pinkd3mon]

Star Allies Guest Star teams

[mytardisisparked]

Look, all I’m saying is that they really just don’t make movies like National Treasure anymore. Like this movie is about two dudes in a van who beat a team of highly trained criminals to stealing a valuable document from a high-security museum, by sheer accident get an antiques expert to come along with them to keep the document safe, get involved in several major chase scenes, escape the FBI twice, find a massive treasure, get someone else arrested for their crimes, and then give the treasure back to museums before yeeting out to do it all over again in the sequel. No one was doing it like them. And the thing is, by all accounts, this plot is ridiculous and the dialogue is ridiculous but it works unbelievably well because the writers and actors committed to the bit. This movie is campy and absurd and it’s also one of the most fun and quotable movies of my early childhood because the creators embraced the camp and did it with such a sincerity that it’s a goshdarn delight to watch. Top all of that off with a soundtrack that went WAY harder than it really needed to, excellent atmosphere throughout the whole film, and visuals that were darn near perfect and National Treasure becomes a classic. I’ve been chasing the high I got the first time I watched it my whole life. What a movie.