#nothing against them relating to others! i love to see it but reduce them as just their relationships its not very cool to me :(

[beloveds-embrace]

I kind of need to see their reaction to the duchess mother insulting her-

I got this ask the same day I posted this, so I’m pretty it’s related to that 🙂‍↕️

The air in the hall outside your bedroom is heavy, suffocating. The door is cracked open just enough for voices to slip through, sharp and cutting, each word a dagger that buries itself deeper into your heart.

You’re curled in bed, the sheets twisted around you, your body frail and trembling under their weight. The room is dim, the curtains drawn to keep out the light, but it does nothing to hide the wreckage of your state- the unkempt hair, the tear-stained pillows, the hollow look in your eyes that even you can feel without needing to see.

And your mother doesn’t care.

“Look at you,” she snaps, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she paces. “Lying there like some pathetic, sniveling child. Is this what you’ve let yourself become? No wonder your husband doesn’t want you. Who in their right mind would?”

John freezes just outside the door. His breath catches, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides. Behind him, Simon, Johnny, and Kyle stop, their footsteps abruptly halting as they catch the sound of her voice.

Inside, you don’t answer. You can’t. Your throat feels raw from crying earlier, and the effort of defending yourself seems insurmountable.

“Do you know how humiliating this is for me?” Your mother’s voice rises, sharp and unforgiving, a screeching banshee. “To have my daughter- a duchess, no less- reduced to this? Half-dead and wallowing in her own misery? I didn’t raise you to be this weak.”

Simon’s jaw tightens, the muscle in his cheek twitching as he stares at the sliver of light of the moon spilling from your door. His breathing is slow, measured, but his fingers twitch at his sides, itching to do something, anything to stop this.

Johnny’s expression twists, his lips parting as though he’s about to say something- to barge in, to end it- but Kyle’s hand on his shoulder stops him. Kyle doesn’t look at him, though. He can’t tear his eyes away from the shadow of your mother pacing inside the room, his knuckles tight where they grip the edge of his coat.

Your mother keeps going, undeterred by your silence.

“It’s no wonder no one comes to you,” she spits. “Why would they? Look at yourself. Wasting away like this. No dignity. No pride. How do you expect anyone to love you if you can’t even bother to act like someone worth loving?”

The words hit harder than any slap, and the quiet, broken sound you make in response has Johnny stepping forward before he can stop himself. Kyle yanks him back, his grip iron-tight, but Johnny’s trembling, his whole body thrumming with the need to move- to pull her out of there, to make her stop.

John says nothing, but his silence is louder than any outburst. He stands rigid, shoulders squared, eyes dark and unreadable as he stares through the crack in the door.

Inside, you flinch as your mother’s heels come to a stop beside the bed.

“Pathetic,” she says again, quieter this time but no less digging. “You should be grateful he hasn’t thrown you out yet. Maybe he should have. Maybe then you’d finally pull yourself together.”

Kyle’s grip falters, and Johnny’s nails dig into his palms.

Simon exhales slowly, the sound sharp and dangerous.

And John- John turns and walks away, his footsteps heavy against the marble floors. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t look at the others as he passes. But the set of his shoulders, the tension in his spine, says enough.

He’s going to fix this. He needs to fix this.

Even if it’s far too late to undo what’s already been done.

The others linger for only a moment longer, torn between the urge to barge in and the weight of their own guilt keeping them rooted to the spot. Eventually, though, they follow John, leaving you alone with your mother’s words echoing in the suffocating silence.

And you?

You curl deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over your head as if that might be enough to drown it all out.

It’s not.

[yesimwriting]

Not related to the bestie verse (unless you want it to 🤭) but have you seen the way Armand is unwinding and destroying Daniels tapes using his mind gift in s2x05? 😭

What can't he do? He's able to manipulate memories, see inside your mind, use telekinesis, telepathy, commandeer you like a puppet with you fully aware and literally cast a spell on you? This dude is scary.

Where is the boundary with bestie and which of his gifts is he willing to use on reader for her or his benefit? And also, in what context? 😭

Now, me being me (my head is in the gutter), I headcanon this man would untie/unzip whatever available piece of clothing, his hands never leaving from their place, just because he's a menace (when he wants to be) 💀💀

A/N: i need to be wholesome to balance the scale: he'd do the opposite as well. bestie will never worry about untied shoelaces when he's around, no no. 🤭🤭

I read "unwinding" and immediately knew the exact thing you were talking about 😭. I love the way he pulled apart those tapes so bad.

You're so right, his potential is lowkey scary. Think about everything he was doing in that episode, mentally throwing around Daniel while also torturing/speaking to Louis. I think what really gets to me about the tape unwinding and a lot of other things that Armand does with his mind gift is how effortless/natural it is.

I have a lot of thoughts on this, so I'm putting a cut here (brief discussion of sexually suggestive concept below the cut):

Your head might be in the gutter, but your mind is so creative.

That scene where Daniel is like "I could be on my knees in a second" and then Armand immediately pushes him onto his knees. Yeah. He definitely has nothing against using his abilities in sexual situations.

I can definitely see him removing people's clothing that way. Depending on what mood he's in, I can also see him doing this while fixing a drink or doing something else that makes it seem like he's ignoring/almost uninterested in the person in front of him.

As far as him using the mind gift/other abilities on bestie, it's kind of complicated. I haven't been able to touch on this as much as I've wanted to, but Armand is holding onto the fact that he's never hurt bestie with all he has. Part of it is because of the way Louis views her, and the rest of it comes from what he can see in bestie's thoughts.

Even though they bicker and most of their relationship is rooted in what they've both convinced themselves is 'dislike', her thoughts about him are never cruel or even particularly mean. If anything they're trusting, and maybe even a little protective/caring. This person, that Louis has given an extraordinary amount of value to, sees him and has only never really feared him (despite his efforts), but has also decided to trust him.

The only thing Armand can look to as a way of proving himself that he might deserve to be seen as anything remotely close to the way that bestie sees him is that he's never hurt her. Because of this, I think using the mind gift (in ways she wouldn't consent to) is something he tries to avoid.

Less nobly, I think he secretly likes arguing with her and winning. Forcing her to do things would take some of the fun out of it for him. Kind of like a cat and mouse game.

However, I can definitely see him using his mind gift (and other abilities) for convenience. I can see it becoming a habit to mentally push things out of the way that bestie might trip on (especially when she's coming home from a night out). The shoe lace thing is so cutesy, but I think he'd try to do it without her ever noticing bc it can't look like he cares.

If bestie's in a lighthearted mood, she might randomly set a book (or something heavy-ish) between them and ask if he's capable of moving it with his mind. He pretends to be annoyed about being reduced to a parlor trick, but indulges her anyway.

There's also exceptions for everything. If bestie goes through/sees something traumatic, he'd probably choose to erase that memory for the greater good. I know Armand's use of his gifts on Louis's mind was mainly selfish, but there was also some rewriting of history to keep Louis a more content person overall.

I do have something in my drafts that focuses on Louis accidentally looses control in front of bestie, comes home freaking out, and Armand is like don't worry <3 she's not leaving us you, and just pulls that out of her memory all together.

[flowercrowngods]

it’s floaty steddie hours

Eddie never knew there were moments that would just steal his breath and not give it back even after they passed, lingering in his mind, his heartbeat, his fingertips, making him wonder if the world is suddenly much bigger than before, or endlessly smaller, reduced only to one impossibly perfect moment.

He never knew. Until he met Steve. Steve, with his moments, with his smiles, with his kisses and laughs and gentle voice singing under his breath when he thinks Eddie isn’t listening.

But Eddie listens. He always listens.

And he basks, taking it all in as he’s sitting in the back of his van somewhere at the foot of Weathertop, leaning against the side wall.

There is a steady pitter-patter of heavy summer rain against the roof of the van, a breeze of fresh air coming in through the open doors that occasionally leaves goose bumps along his arms and brings with it the smell of rain and drenched soil, of blooming fields and trees and life, mixing with their own little bubble of life and love and tobacco.

Eddie wants to catch that smell, that sound, that feeling in a mason jar like Steve told him he used to dream as a kid. Maybe he will. He knows there’s one in the driver’s side door for this very purpose.

It would be a good forever-moment, with Steve lying in the back of his van, illuminated by the soft glow of the fairy lights Eddie installed for him the other week with a hearty but ultimately fake grumble. The warm light dances along his skin, making it look even more golden than usual, complementing the galaxy of moles that is imprinted and immortalised on his skin.

And Eddie watches. He always watches.

Golden light that makes even his dimples shine as he smiles, eyes closed as he’s singing along to the third mixtape of the night. Space Age Love Song, which Eddie pretends to hate. But how could he hate it when it makes Steve look like that? When it thus steals Eddie’s breath, his heart, his sanity?

And then, for a moment, for one perfect, drawn-out moment, all Eddie Munson can do anymore is watch. And listen. And feel. Because what he sees and hears and feels is everything.

His breath is lodged in his throat as he reaches for his little sketchbook — the special one, littered with drawings and doodles and musings of Steve. His face, his hands, the constellations of his moles. The occasional DnD related sketch in there, because Steve just inspires him.

His pencil dances over the page in practiced, familiar movements as he tries to capture the moment on paper. It’s hard, though, because Steve’s nose is scrunched a little with that smile that Eddie’s not even sure Steve’s aware of, and his dimples tell a story of their own tonight. A story of contentment rather than joy or amusement. Eddie has to try and try again, never quite getting it right, this perfection, and he curses a little under his breath.

“What are you drawing?” Steve asks, turning his head and opening his eyes a little, squinting but curious.

“Nothing,” Eddie smiles, pulling the sketch closer to his chest, away from Steve’s sleepy, lazy, slow attempt to reach for it. “Go back to sleep.”

“‘M not asleep,” he sighs, rolling over onto his side, watching Eddie and reaching for his ankle — just to touch. To hold. To feel.

It makes Eddie smile. “No?”

“No,” Steve says, helpless not to smile back, and Eddie wants to kiss him. “Just… I don’t know. ‘S nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. Perfect.”

Eddie discards the sketchbook and goes to lie down beside Steve, wrapping one arm around his middle, the other coming up to take Steve’s, their fingers intertwined between their faces.

“Then I think the word you’re looking for is basking.”

Steve hums again, touching his forehead to Eddie’s knuckles before brushing featherlight kisses over them. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Basking.”

Eddie’s heart is ready to beat out of his chest, make a life of its own fuelled by the perfection of this moment. Everything about it. Everything.

Outside, the rain picks up even more, a wave of cold air coming into the van that makes Steve cuddle closer to him, until their foreheads are touching. Eddie closes his eyes, breathes him in, and slowly inches forward, tilting his head to claim Steve’s lips in a gentle kiss.

They trade slow, sensual kisses for a while. Steve’s hand comes up to Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking whatever skin he can find, caressing his cheek, his chin, his jaw, while Eddie plays with Steve’s hair.

In the end it’s Steve who pulls back first, eyes open, just watching Eddie. Taking him in, making him feel seen rather than watched.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Answering is as easy as breathing. And just as difficult. Just as impossible. His love, his breath — they both belong to Steve, completely and entirely.

Steve, who smiles at him like being loved by Eddie Munson means something to him. Like it means everything. Like it can mean Forever. Eddie feels like he might not survive tonight it Steve continues to be so genuine, so honest, so raw, so open, so vulnerable, so pretty, so beautiful, so absolutely breathtakingly everything.

“Can I see what you were drawing?”

“You,” Eddie says, reaching behind him blindly in search for his book, too weak to refuse Steve anything he asks for. “I was drawing you.”

“You were?”

Eddie nods, feeling a heat creeping up on his cheeks.

“Sap,” Steve grins, leaning in to plant a kiss on Eddie’s cheek as he reaches over him for the sketchbook. “Can I?”

“Knock yourself out,” Eddie grumbles, rolling them so Steve’s lying on his back and Eddie can sprawl on top of him. Hide his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, hide the way he’s flushing, hide the absolutely obvious way he’s a goner for Steve fucking Harrington.

He hears the gasps, hears the pages being flipped, the little giggles of surprise, the hums and tiny, secret little ohs. He hears them and he holds his breath, beginning to shiver for a reason that even the cool breeze cannot compete with.

“Eddie,” Steve breathes. Doesn’t say anything else for a while. And Eddie wonders if Steve is in the same boat, in the same condition, if he has these moments, too. Moments like this. He wonders, and he hopes, and he wishes.

But Steve doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Eddie, and the music switches to Springsteen. Tougher Than the Rest. It’s always been too soft for Eddie, but right now it serves to give the word perfect a new melody.

“Dance with me,” Steve breathes.

“Hm?”

“Dance with me. Please?”

“In the rain?”

“Mm-hmm,” Steve nods, tightens his hold around Eddie as if he forgot that they still had to get up and get out there.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie says, lifting himself from Steve’s chest and climbing out of the car, warm rain immediately drenching his clothes. It makes him laugh, a boyish little thing that bubbles out of him as he holds out his hands to help Steve out.

Steve takes his hand, jumping out with a small giggle of his own, making for a glorious vision: happy and giddy against the golden light inside the van, his wild hair soon drenched completely, sticking to his face where he shakes his head, showing droplets of water left and right.

It doesn’t fit the song, doesn’t fit the notion of basking, but they’re both laughing and breathless, clinging to each other in the moonlit night somewhere at the foot of weathertop, far away from everyone else that they might just be the only two people left in the world. Two silly boys, giddy and breathless and stupidly in love.

It makes Eddie pause. Swallow. It makes his heart go wild as he stills.

“What?” Steve asks, stilling as well, looking over his shoulder to see if someone was coming, if someone’s watching them.

Eddie pulls him closer, makes Steve meet his eyes again as he rests his hands around his neck. “Dance with me.”

A smile spreads Steve’s lips, breaking through all of Eddie’s walls to let the light in — even in the middle of the night. “Okay,” he breathes.

And if you’re brave enough for love, // Honey, I’m tougher than the rest.

The sound of rain isn’t loud enough to drown out the music, but still Eddie can barely hear it over the sound of his own heart. Over the sound of I love you, I love you, I love you. Over the sound of Is this forever? Can this be forever?

They slow dance to Springsteen, then to Tears for Fears, and eventually to Prince. They dance until Steve begins to shiver in his arms, until the rain has drenched them so completely that none of the day’s heat is left in the air and the breeze is getting uncomfortable. And then, they dance a little longer, because Steve is capturing Eddie’s lips again, slow and unhurried and like he means it. Like he means it all.

“One day,” Steve breathes against Eddie’s lips. “One day I’m going to marry you. I’ll find a way.”

And it’s Eddie this time who gasps, who falls into Steve because his knees are giving out. It’s Eddie who’s lost for words.

But he doesn’t need words, because Steve is kissing him again, holding him up, holding him, holding his heart and his life and his future in hands so gentle and sure that Eddie wants to fall apart, just a little bit.

“Not if I marry you first,” he says eventually, brushing one last bruising kiss to Steve’s lips before pulling back and climbing into the van, dripping as he is.

Steve, laughing and giggling, follows immediately after him, pulling off his clothes in a hurry to get under the blanket. Eddie watches him with a leer — at least until Steve kicks him in the side and tells him to get out of these clothes and come under the blanket to warm up.

“If you wanted to get me naked, you could’a just said so, Harrington. Didn’t have to propose first.”

Steve grins, helpless against it, blushing a little and hiding his face in the blanket even as he reaches for Eddie to come closer.

But Eddie doesn’t, and awkwardly climbs over Steve to reach for the driver’s side door.

“What are you—“

Steve shuts up when Eddie retrieves the mason jar, his mouth clicking shut adorably, making Eddie grin, vulnerable and nervous and raw as he feels.

“Told myself I’d capture a perfect moment for you. What do you think, does it qualify?”

Steve swallows. Nods. Reaches for Eddie once more, who shuffles closer until Steve can test his head on his shoulder.

“Can’t believe you remembered,” he murmurs, trailing his index finger along the lid.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” Eddie grins, making Steve laugh. Alleviating the moment, but not dislodging it. “So?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “It’s perfect. I’m… God, I love you so much, Eddie, shit.”

“And that’s how I’m gonna label it,” Eddie grins.

“Not One day I’m gonna marry you?”

And Eddie’s breath hitches again. He lowers the mason jar, meeting Steve’s eyes this time. He wants to ask; needs to ask. Needs to know.

“Do you mean that?” It’s whispered; he doesn’t have the strength or the bravery to be any louder.

Steve’s hands come up to his cheeks, cradling his face in the gentlest way as he holds Eddie’s eyes. “Eddie Munson,” he says, “one day I’m going to marry you. And I won’t let you marry me first.”

Between them, Eddie opens the mason jar just as Steve leans in to capture his mouth in a kiss that really is nothing less than a promise. Nothing less than Forever.

happy birthday @anzelsilver i have the hugest “pls be my friend” crush on you so i decided to write you a lil thing and hope you enjoy this and the rest of your week 🫶🤍🌷

[oil-rigging]

I’m gonna talk some more because I really want to talk Psychonauts instead of doing meaningful work.

Why is it always when I’m not crunched for time that I can’t think of ideas? I find myself setting arbitrary time constraints for myself and instead of being productive with them I’m just panicking over whether or not I can complete a relatively simple task WELL in a time limit I set for myself.

And now, while you’re piecing together how the hell task-based anxiety relates to Psychonauts, I throw Compton Boole at you like a bowling ball.

STRIKE! Or, Spare? I don’t bowl often.

We all have a little Compton Boole in our heads, I think. Someone who lightly taps your cheek whenever you’re having a rest and reminds you that there are better things you could be doing with your time. Some people can just manage their little Compton better than others.

No shame in it, it’s not like you can control crippling anxiety. That’s your chemical imbalance and therefore your business. I was just putting myself on the spot because it’s more ✨ethically responsible✨.

Given that anxiety is primarily a fear disorder, it’s unsurprising that most studies on it are run on animal models —which is elaborated on in a 2009 research paper on neuro-circuitry of fear and stress disorders by Drs. Shin and Liberzon. Obviously, much more has been discovered since, seeing as sixteen years is a long time for developments. Regardless, this is about the rats.

The main difference between rodents (and most animals) and humans is that humans have a tendency to have fear responses to things that aren’t clear, unconditioned stimuli— as well as phenomena such as anticipatory anxiety, which is evidence (one piece of many) that animal models aren’t all that accurate in human study.

In other words: humans react anxiously to stimuli that (and I am not attempting to reduce the impact of anxiety, because it is very real) does not exist.

Here I raise you the Compton Boole-shaped bowling ball that I just threw at you.

Any of this sound familiar?

Compton is anxious, and we see that from the get-go. The way he speaks has a quavering quality to it, his voice seems to crack every other sentence. We learn what he’s anxious about, and it’s quite literally all in his head, and self-imposed on top of it.

Ram It Down is a prime example of setting oneself up to be anxious, even unwittingly. Compton has put himself in an environment that is:

1.) “Broadcasted, Timed, and Judged”, as it’s on TV. This is an environment in which judgment is not only expected, but encouraged. Tell me you haven’t watched a competitive cooking show and not judged a contestant for one thing or another. It’s not even a conscious effort, half the time. We even go so far as to face off against the entity: judgment. Not to mention the Actual Cooking Show Judges that are present and consistently heckling us. It’s clear that Compton fears judgment— he says it himself!

Also— the time limits. Nothing bad happens when you don’t complete the dish within the time limit. You can take your time, it’s fine. Again, with the arbitrary time limits he sets for himself when the task isn’t actually requiring a time crunch.

2.) The goats. In some contexts, goats mean creativity, and drawing back to Hinduism— the transformative powers of fire. Both of which seem to fit with Compton’s love of cooking.

However, there’s also the negative meanings. The obvious— relating to or of the Devil… though we don’t particularly see any religious references in the game or in Compton specifically. Another negative meaning that I feel has more prevalence is the concept of the scapegoat, in which a goat is burdened with sins and outcasted… perhaps, to a psycho-isolation chamber.

But a more likely and probable cause for the goats is that goats are rumored to eat anything, even things that are realistically inedible. While this isn’t necessarily true— I have experience with goats that prove that they’re rather picky— it’s still a way for Compton to put himself down, or perhaps give himself some hope. ‘They’ll eat anything’ in a positive connotation vs. ‘They’ll eat anything’ bemoaning his situation.

3.) It’s taking a lot of the joy out of something he finds comfort in; cooking! Cooking is —from what I researched, at least. Correct me if I’m wrong— the less precise of the culinary arts, focusing more on flavor than the chemical reactions necessary to make baking work. Cooking shows and baking shows, at least to me, seem like they bring a lot of joy to the art, where I get to see how people from different backgrounds and contexts get creative with their food.

But not everyone wants to be on television. Not everyone wants to cook outside of their home kitchen, with the tools and ingredients they’re familiar with. Not everyone wants to be put on the spot, have their methods and ideas harshly judged by people you don’t know, and to seem so small in comparison to some hot-shot public chef’s giant ego… in a literal sense, for Compton.

All in all, this guy set himself up for anxiety and stress without even thinking of it. He’s coming in expecting failure, and some meddling kid goes and proves to him that he’s significantly more competent than he thinks, and that his friends love him dearly (and all blame themselves for their group’s collective shortcoming. Except Otto. Because Otto’s well adjusted).

Which means that if you feel too anxious to function, sometimes all it takes is a little help from someone you hardly know, and trusting them to help you work through it :]!

I don’t know when this turned into life advice, because I’m not a qualified therapist. I’m just a college kid who likes to write about psychology and see all of the cool studies that people have run solely in the interest of helping their loved ones and people around them. I feel like Compton Boole is a love letter from the Psychonauts Devs that reads: ‘if he can do it, so can you.’ I feel like the whole game echoes that in almost every aspect.

That got surprisingly deep. I have no important exams this week, so I’m getting anxious over nothing until I have something substantial to worry about. But for now? We can let ourselves relax. I implore whoever is reading this, also, to go relax.

[lai-mar]

I think. For me L+M is another example of a male+female pairing that seems a little too straightforward to ship in canon and hence some fans view it as “boring” and “low hanging fruit”, and as a result the ship is less popular despite having canon crumbs that you can interpret in a shippy way. So the ship being low hanging fruit turns around? In canon they have a strong friendship and lots of moments, and that’s what I like them as, friends (and they are canonically friends). Shipping these “straightforward straight pairings” can be a bit squicky (because I tend to think they are more interesting nonromantically) but it turns out in the end I will blatantly blaze through my squicks because I am desperate for content. And also because shippers actually care about them and their bond.

However, for these pairings people SOMEHOW usually impose a familial interpretation (siblings, in-laws) even though they are not related in canon either by blood or marriage. It’s more acceptable in DM because F/M certainly gets a lot of crumbs but it also kinda makes me salty to see people reduce L+M to being in laws only, like their only connection is through Falin, and that is just plain wrong. I have seen so many male+female pairings that get stuck in the fanon “sibling-coded” area and it’s like… guys it’s okay to not like them as a ship and not make them siblings. Guys. Not every kind of love has to be romantic or familial. I think sibling coding is fun and all that but sometimes it does feel like a “gotcha! I totally do not ship them because they’re like SIBLINGS to me and if you ship them you’re WEIRD”.

L+M would still be funny if it’s the fanon “lesbian elf teams up with her gf’s autistic brother and they squabble but work together to save the day” but canon L+M just drives me crazy because they obviously develop a bond outside of the other people they love, and they’ve basically known each other for two years only which is short even for a tallman lifespan, let alone Marcille’s. Actually I think what really gets me about L+M is that every time they get a moment that can be interpreted as shippy (eg. succubus, M wearing the dress in the Golden Country, even M knitting in the room with L in the Kensuke extra just like her mom used to do with her dad), there might be a few blushes and nervousness, but they quickly return to the status quo of being comfortable and physically affectionate with each other. Which you can interpret them as not seeing each other romantically, in deep denial, or they’re just so comfortable with each other that they don’t need to define their relationship, they just are.

Tbh the widespread DM fanon did mislead me a bunch, I thought we would get obvious F/M shipping or even confirmation after the bath scene but nope. I thought L+M would kinda stay the way they were pre Ep 11 and have a fun back and forth bit noooo they had to go and save each other and learn about each other’s deepest desires. I was shocked that they weren’t being discussed on such a widespread level considering how much screentime and importance they both get. Saw someone say “the romance between F/M is the catalyst and main plot driver” and I want to bang my head against the wall. DM has ship crumbs for a ton of ships but nothing has ever been confirmed canon and I’m happier because of it and it’s fun to explore.

I would say L+M needs better PR but honestly just read the manga, it does all the PR lmao. I can forgive anime onlies but if you read the manga you surely cannot ignore the elephant in the room.

[carionto]

Hyperbrake Racing

Everything in Human ships has a manual override. They love automating all processes and reduce any workload to nothing, but also have this compulsive need to be able to take direct control if so desired.

They also have emergency off switches for everything. Yes, including life support. Don't ask, you'll just get a variant of:

"But What If!?"

Obviously, this applies to things you should never under any circumstances shut down preemptively, such as a Hyperspace Jump.

The earliest space-faring civilizations quickly discovered that if a Hyperdrive has a power interruption even for a nano-second your atoms will get dispersed across a few light months. This is why all Hyperdrives have an internal chargeable uninterruptible power supply unit.

Humanity, however, did not allow "Not having any reason whatsoever" to stop them from figuring out a way. Utilizing their ridiculous quantum computer speed and the ability of their fusion reactors to charge a Hyperdrive mid-jump, and with an injection of a disgusting few million lines of hack code that manipulate all related pieces of hardware in just the most nauseating sequences, they created the Hyperbrake.

Also, not a metaphor - braking literally causes Humans to feel nauseous, sometimes throw up, rarely even pass out. Not a single volunteer crew member aboard joint vessels from any of the other Coalition species has dared to "test" what happens to them.

As with nearly all things Humans come across or invent, they will find a use for it should one not occur normally.

_____________________

Near Neptune

Daniel, Samantha, and Nicholas Schreier were three siblings ages 17, 19, and 20, respectively. Today they had "borrowed" their dad's General FordStar mark 980-MZ HaulerHound, a civilian grade transport typically used by small business owners. Dad, however, was an enthusiast, and had modified the "Hound Dog", as he calls it, with a military grade reactor and computer core. He's always been that guy who knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy who can get the thing legally enough.

There is a nearby research station that the kids often visit due to their mom working there, but today she was not. Instead, what they are doing, is racing against each other to set the best record. Well, technically the opposite of racing - coming to a halt.

Using the Hyperbrake, they are competing to see who can stop the closest to the stations outer point-defense range without entering it or you automatically lose. After Samantha's turn, they were suddenly contacted by the station. It was Yakovskii, one of mom's colleagues and a frequent guest at dad's barbecues, so they were on sorta good terms. Not by the tone voice coming through the comms rights now though:

"What in the Hell are you thinking!? At first I thought you were just messing around and accidentally did that, but TWICE now!?! I checked the trajectory, if you had stopped a half-second later, you would've ended up mere meters from Neptune's upper atmosphere! Did you account for the possible sudden gravitational pull? Can you maneuver that lumbering ship fast enough to not get pulled down? Not to mention Hyperbraking severely impairs your cognitive abilities for a moment? A moment that you need to be clearheaded for or risk DEATH!?!"

The three siblings could only hang their heads in shame and mutter out some weak apologies. After a moment of silence and reflection, Yakovskii speaks in a warmer tone:

*sigh* "Look, I understand it's a fancy new toy and you want to see what you can do. I get it, I really do. Me and my brother used to play vertical hockey the first time we got our hands on a surplus gravity field generator. But we first figured out how to make sure we didn't break our bones in case it failed. Seriously, never forget to consider your own safety first before you try out new things in a peaceful environment. You're not being chased by pirates or trying to avoid the law or whatever.

Take your time, pick a starting position that's further away and keeps Neptune and any of its moons to the side of the station, then aim for an area of space that only has the outer range of the defenses and empty space ahead from your point of view. And please set the regular Hyperjump destination within Sol, don't just pick a random place. The Hyperbrake sometimes loops in on itself and never executes the brake and can only be reset once out of Hyperspace. You don't want to get stuck in a pointless jump for hours do you?"

After this admonishment, the siblings apologized more energetically and took his advice to heart. They spent the next hour competing until all three were down to single meter differences and kinda got bored, so they docked at the station and hung out with the off-duty staff, played some poker, but then dad barged in and dragged them all home. They were not invited to the barbecue gatherings for two weeks, but only because mom told him to. Personally he was excited about all the data his kids had unknowingly given him with all their jumping and braking, a real stress test for his beautiful Hound Dog.

[mihii-i]

can you write a mizu x reader yandere fic? any type, however you want is fine, i absolutely love realistic yandere fics (referencing your what you will and won’t write)

mask of innocence.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, lazy writing, violence, yandere/obsessive themes, blood, mild gore, some angst why not, yandere reader, mizu AND reader fucking die, tragedy, lowk cliche, murder suicide, reader is very mentally ill and enjoys others’ suffering, and she’s kinda a two faced bitch ngl, I did NOT indulge in this one I fear, I’m gonna be so fr..I just wanted to kill taigen lmaooo, author hates taizu, did I mention the author hates taizu? I think I forgot to mention I hate taizu, NOT MEANT TO BE ROMANTICIZED, guys I don’t hate taigen himself that much pls, same time period but NOT at all related to the main storyline and it’s only briefly referenced, okay but I hate the reader so much in this, not proofread.

A/N: well good morning mizu nation welcome to yet another day of tweaking out over the wait for blue eye samurai season 2…now playing — sick and twisted by chris grey. Did I mention I love Chris grey so much he’s my favorite artist ever I’ve known this dude since the beginning of time. This lowkey scared ME while I was writing..PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION maybe im exaggerating but better safe than sorry🕯️

“Truly, it is a tragedy to have lost such a skilled swordsman. Much less in a brutal attack like this one.”

Lord Daichi Tokunobu’s voice called out to the crowd knelt before the revered daimyo, heads hung low as his voice rang throughout the vicinity in a low rumble. As per the usual rites, many other samurai had been dragged here by obligation of their own duties, having to stand for the death of one of their fellow samurai while feigning sorrow around the Buddhist monks circling them with spills of sutras flooding from their lips.

Or atleast, that’s what you had thought when you caught sight of Taigen’s funeral from afar, flames erupting from the pyre as small, burning flakes levitated away from the flames swallowing what was once the swordsman’s mangled body, reducing it to mere piles of ash that could slip through your fingertips like the sands of time. Surely, it wasn’t difficult to conclude that he had perished by an ambush rather than a duel. For the wounds on his body hadn’t required any sort of inspection to see the damage done to be far worse than a mere killing slash inflicted by a katana.

Lord Tokunobu narrowed his eyes across the array of his own army poking out beneath his periphery, furrowing his brows to gain a clear view of the funeral pyre continuing to crackle as the wind screeched out of fury in bellowing howls, swaying the flames off to the side. Nothing lay in the middle besides the heap of ash that was once Taigen’s body. To be reduced from a skilled warrior with his own thoughts, feelings, and abilities into a mere pile of grainy heaps that could be scattered about anywhere, and nobody would notice. It truly was a pity, especially at his youthful adulthood.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off the funeral distanced away from you as every syllable of the sutras chanted hung in the air in drawn out breaths. Pupils dilating, picking up on every little detail vibrating in your ears, ravaging your eyes with not remorse or regret—but rather elation. It was no surprise you’d assume the worst attitudes toward his death, or false sentiments delivered. He wasn’t likeable in your eyes anyway, and would always be a pathetic scrap of this world, left to rot.

Or rather, burn. For even laying eyes upon her.

For daring to impose the threat of killing her.

Grasping at the cotton of your kimono weakly, your thoughts swirled in an endless rage of conflicting emotions, grating against one another as you attempted to forcefully tear your eyes away; avoid those plaguing emotions that wished his death a thousand times over, and sought gratification in each stab wound you had marked on him. Whenever your eyes landed on the pyre where his corpse once was, you could only mull over the amusement incited within you, the scorching passion to do it once more whenever various individuals pondered upon who his killer could be—when you knew full well you were the one who had ripped him apart with nothing but a small kitchen knife.

Oh, how you delighted in the lack of suspicion surrounding you. Suppressing that wicked grin that quirked at the corners of your lip whenever Taigen’s lord passed by you without a care in the world, disregarding the peasant girl who strode right beside him. Someone so lowly couldn’t possibly take down a skilled samurai such as Taigen, could she? You looked nothing more than a vagrant even, so unappealing to the eye in bleak fabrics that many brushed past you, without even sparing a split second to consider your horrific nature.

And despite all that…your cold hatred thawed in response to the presence of a single woman, one of which you’d die for. The calculated slashes of her place descending down in sharp, swift motions with such precision, every drag of her blade depicting the smallest of details of her mastery in swordsmanship. The moment you had grown close to Mizu, it was clear that your emotions rose uncontrollably, never to rest again, rivaling that of a typhoon to rage inside of you.

Desiring such a woman in your life was a first for you. You couldn’t care any less of the consequences or boundary that it stepped outside of social conformity. Every fiber in your body, every drop of blood allured you towards the stoic oddity that resided so close, yet so far. Chills racking your form as they coursed through your spine, losing yourself in those blue eyes that encompassed your reason to live, her dark hair that fell past her shoulders whenever Mizu trusted you enough to lean against you for comfort in the cruelest of times casted upon you by the world.

It would be fine, she had you. Didn’t she?

“I wonder who could’ve brutalized him so awfully.”

Mizu’s voice disrupted your train of thought, initially swarmed in a fury of heaping hatred and sick fixation bleeding out within your skull. Your shoulder brushed closer to your lover’s navy cloak shrouding her body, huddling up to further sell the facade of your faux sorrow and fear as you managed to squeeze out a few stray tears rolling down your cheeks. While you wiped your swollen, flushed skin, dragging your palm over your lifted cheeks to smooth away those false salty tears, Mizu only glanced over at you, confused as to why you had been crying for Taigen of all people.

Though, you weren’t stupid. Not at all. You indeed had to slip on the mask of innocence to sell her the idea of a helpless peasant—to shove down the truth of a sick, cruel woman who delighted in the pain she caused onto anyone but Mizu herself. You hiccuped through the sobs scraping their way up your dried throat, involuntarily reclining yourself back onto Mizu’s shoulder while still standing.

“It’s just…I don’t want something like that to happen to you too. I mean, one skilled samurai got brutally killed somehow, what are the odds now that you’d have a target on your back?”

Mizu’s typically sharpened features could only soften slightly at your concerns choked out through streams of tears, exhaling quietly as she circled her arm around your shoulder as she begrudgingly held you close to her in an attempt to ease your qualms. Although…you weren’t necessarily wrong. The question of whether she was next to fall victim to this mysterious killer who not only took the life of, but practically tortured a man who had one well over 24 duels in his life without fail.

Yet, for the sake of your comfort, Mizu’s gaze shifted down to you quivering in her arms, breathing out in a hushed voice.

“(Name). Don’t worry, I can’t possibly be killed so easily. I can deal with whoever they are in a heartbeat.”

Well, she certainly wasn’t wrong. You couldn’t possibly go headfirst in a duel against her. That was just a death wish, that manifested in the form of a shooting star just speeding down to crush you. Your blood would be yet another decoration to the rocks, painting the grey a deep crimson of your vile blood that only screamed for one person. While your corpse would be just another carcass buried in the ground to decompose.

You simply managed a nod as a reply, earning a hum from Mizu as she continued to grasp you against her wordlessly, drawing in a deep breath to bask in the comfort of your presence hemmed between her arms tightly. The poor woman had no clue of what kind of monster you were, even more so than her for the misfortune of her heritage in such a society. Through, you had given her the gift of love once more, that should be compensation enough, right?

“Enough about Taigen. He wasn’t worth much of our time anyway…can we just walk together?”

Despite being caught off guard by your blunt remark demeaning Taigen somewhat, Mizu brushed off your odd disdain of sorts towards the deceased man, nodding in response with a smile.

“Of course we can.”

—

“(Name)..? What the hell are you doing?”

Taigen groggily glanced over his shoulder as he barely recognized your shadowy figure outlined in the shroud of nightfall masked by the trees rooted in the clearings near Kohama. Thumbing the splintered wooden handle of the knife, your foot set forward further into Taigen’s line of sight to illuminate your crumpled expression in the pale moonlight. Your supposedly menacing display only led him to feel more perplexed as to why you were approaching him without reason, and with such searing hate flickering in your eyes.

His hand instinctively flew down to rest on the handle of his blade, brows furrowing as he huffed out a gush of breath to push a stray strand of his jet black hair out of the way. You weren’t much of a threat, yet he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what intentions you harbored with standing like a war statue in the night before him. A mere peasant girl couldn’t possibly think to murder a samurai, it was out of the question to do something so stupid and unattainable.

Composure slipping everytime he squinted at your blurred face, filtering in and out of sight with your hands neatly folded behind your back, eyes fixed on the pathetic man before you. The same one that you wanted to rip open over and over, plunge your knife into him now and be done with it. However, you knew that was a foolish and fairly unwise move to lunge at a trained—and armed swordsman with nothing but a kitchen knife in your grasp. So, you allowed your rage to be shoved behind the need for patience, to which you successfully exerted.

A blink was all that was needed for Taigen to somehow lose you so quick, his head frantically whipping around the clearing to scan every blade of darkened grass to find you. But he didn’t worry much. After all, he was well off enough to defend himself, be it that you ambush him from whatever angle. Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he decided resolutely to ignore your bizarre actions. Getting rest would be the best course of-

…

There it was.

That sharp twinge of pain burning at the side of his throat as warm drops of glistening red spilled from his throat, trickling down the skin to stain his clothing to match. Your erratic breaths accompanied Taigen’s abrupt gurgle of shock as the knife cranked deeper into him violently, pupils dilating smaller and shaky at your crazed demeanor purposefully dragging out the sting of the stab longer and longer. Making sure he felt every little sensation that nipped at his nerves whenever you repeatedly sunk the knife in and out of that exact spot on his neck, occasionally missing slightly off from the initial wound.

Your fingers tightened their grip below his waterline, as if you were attempting to tear his eyes out from the headache induced by his screams whenever you continued this sick form of torture unto the man. Without even bothering to provide an explanation as to why you were doing this to him. You wouldn’t even grant Taigen the mercy of closure in his agonizing, slow descent to death, wanting to leave him as a wandering soul plagued by the uncertainty of his circumstance and forever suffering.

His throat wasn’t even enough, your assault continued to taint his torso as well, not sparing his arms either. Evidently so, you relished in the hellish, bloodcurdling scream ripped out of his throat, masked by the screeching cry of birds when you dragged the knife from his chest to his naval, tearing him open in a barbaric manner.

And there you stood. Above his ruined corpse as your face and throat were decorated by sprays of his blood splattered along you.

—

“I fucking asked you, why can’t you just stay with me?! Who knows what could happen to you? I need you Mizu, I don’t think I can live without you!”

“I am owed my revenge at any cost, you’ve known this before you chose to get involved with me. Hell, I’ve warned you—yet you deliberately ignored me and act like you support me in such an endeavor that costs my life.”

You grit your teeth together at her words alone, chest heaving up and down as your hands balled into fists at your sides. Burning in a scornful ache writhing within you at the possibility of her not returning at all, your chest only complied with the pit in your stomach with its own twists and turns of agony. Your breaths rapidly expelled out of your lungs in quick bursts exploding out in their own shallow intervals.

There was no way. You couldn’t risk the possibility at all. Even if she did return alive, what were the chances of that? And all you could’ve had to look forward to was nothingness for the remainder of your life. The light that you had chased for so long, craved the affections of and the one that soothed your vexations, gone for the rest of your days. That was simply a life you couldn’t even comprehend, nor even think to bear.

“I promise. If I’m alive. I will come find you.” Mizu whispered, hand resting on your shoulder.

If. That damned word again. The uncertainty that wormed its way into your head in paranoia like an unwanted parasite gnawing away at you. The risk of never seeing Mizu’s face again, never feeling her touch or another word out of her mouth for god knows how long isn’t worth it. You wanted to scream out your lungs to drag her back to you, plead her to stay and choke out your need for her—your infatuation with her traced with blood.

It was of no use. She grew smaller the further she walked away from you, back turned as streams of navy wavered along with the wind. Not even bothering to look behind her at your pained expression. What was the point of it all, if there was even a risk?

Nothing.

You couldn’t exactly fathom what had happened, or what snapped.

But your body seemed to turn against your mind for once, dropping that demeanor that you worked to keep, cracked and torn off as you lost yourself entirely. You clawed your way past the air as your hand reached out to Mizu, lunging forward at her with the remaining strength that resided within you. Your movements completely against what you intended them to be when you tackled your lover to the ground.

Even Mizu herself was surprised at your sudden outburst, falling over on her stomach as her glasses slanted off crookedly from her nose to the side, eyes wide in the heaps of grass enveloping her alongside your embrace. In that moment, you sickeningly needed her more than ever, every part of her had to stay with you no matter the cost. She had to stay with you and be a part of you. If anything, your intrusive thoughts before, of tearing out her heart as a sort of intimate gesture and holding the beating muscle in your hand as it pulsed with dribbles of blood down your palm to your knuckles.

Yet, you choose not to act on that. Your life has come to an end. And as selfish as it may be, you wouldn’t leave without Mizu by your side, your panting throwing your lover off guard as she attempted to pry you off her back the tighter you clung to her, fingers curling around the fabric to anchor yourself onto her. Choking out, you aimlessly reached for the same knife you had used to murder Taigen, tucked away in the sheathed lapels of your kimono as you rapidly dug the blade into her chest.

Over. And over. Blocking out her groans of pain so it didn’t hurt.

You could only stare down, expression dark as you rolled Mizu over onto her back, raking over her limp body with that repeated, deep crevice in her chest oozing blood. Her head remained slack, and her once clouded blue eyes now lifeless & void. Chest heaving up and down upon taking in your now dead lover, murdered by the very hands of the woman who had sworn to love them, you fought back those tears that stung at your eyes, breath hitching as you couldn’t bear this sight any longer at the realization of what you had truly done.

No. You don’t get to cry. This was all your fault.

All you can do, is make sure she’s safe. Wherever her soul is.

Sighing out a pained chuckle, your hand still grasping the knife knocked at your head, thudding against your skull in low smacks as you mouthed to yourself through tears.

“(Name) you fucking idiot..what’s the matter with you?”

Your mind wasn’t clear before, but it surely was now. Definite on the repentance to the ultimate sin against yourself. Your life was nothing but a waste by now, a burden that weighed on this already cruel world that didn’t need to harbor someone so fragile and broken already. Whom of which was now shattered, with the pieces scattered everywhere and burnt away, never to be found once more.

You knew what you had to do.

Which explained the immediate follow up of the same blade dragging along your throat, along with being plunged into your own chest not too long after for good measure. With that, you could only crawl onto Mizu’s unmoving corpse with your own reddened hands, streaking crimson along her clothes as you dragged your dead weight up her body. Ah, just laying against her chest as you bled out, arms wrapped around her—not before reaching up to draw your palm down both of her eyes. She deserved to rest.

It was as if you had only slept with her like you had on those countless nights that you two cuddled close to each other, safe in the presence and warmth of one another.

Deep down, you prayed this was a dream. You were both just asleep, and you’d wake up the next morning in her arms again.

But alas, that was a far fetched dream. And you knew the reality of what you had done closing in around you.

And you can never take it back.

A/N: I’m gonna be so honest I had to walk away and reconnect with nature when it came to this fic…because it made me uncomfy. I absolutely hate this fic so much I don’t like how I wrote it, I feel like I went too far with the reader..yet at the same time I wouldn’t change it. However this will remain one of my least favorite mizu fics I’ve written like ever..not cause it’s bad..just disturbing. Someone request me something silly with Mizu I’m gonna fucking explode.

mental health seeping down the drain again chat get me outta life if any of you bitch about the quality of this fic being bad or point out it’s rushed god help me I will actually break someone’s thumb anyway love yall

[graysoncritic]

A (Negative) Review of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

Things do not get any better when it comes to Dick’s relationship to Melinda.

As I believe it is important to own up to one’s biases, I’ll begin by admitting that I dislike secret-sibling tropes. However, the problem present in Melinda’s character does not revolve around the concept of her existence, but rather in the fact that her status as Dick’s sister adds nothing to the story. Taylor does not take advantage of her existence to add to Dick’s backstory, complicate his views of his parents, to add conflict to the plot, or to offer on-screen character and relationship development. In failing to have his original character live up to her full potential, Taylor reduces her to a deus-ex-machina who only appears to either save Dick at the right time, or to put him in danger at the right moment.

That is why in execution, Melinda’s existence is irrelevant. While I would never want John Grayson to be cheater and I do not want John and Mary's marriage to be tarnished, that route would have offered conflict, for it forces Dick to grapple with the reality that parents were not the infallible individuals he remembers.

Instead, Melinda is very conveniently conceived during the span of time between John and Mary becoming an acrobatic duo and them getting together. They were already in love, so Dick does not have to worry about Melinda's mom being John's long lost lover and Mary having been a rebound. Yet, because John and Mary were not yet together, John remains a good person as he was not unfaithful. Melinda's mom doesn't resent Mary for ending up with John while she was stuck in an abusive relationship. Melinda doesn’t resent Dick for having known their father while she lived with Zucco. Neither does she feel any love towards Zucco or seeks his approval — which would have been another interesting and understandable source of conflict. After all, though he was an awful man, husband, and father, for a good part of Melinda’s life, he was the only father figure she had, and it is very common for children who were raised by an abusive guardian to still desire their affection.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Leaping into the Light Part Five. Nightwing: Rebirth. 82, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021. pp 14)

The way in which Taylor quickly and neatly wraps up this story does little to add to either Melinda or Dick’s character. Furthermore, Dick readily believes Melinda and Meilin when he is told their story. He does not know them, yet he simply accepts their words without requiring any evidence, without asking many questions, and without following it up with an investigation. 

Neither do we see him experience denial or any other form of human emotions to such a monumental discovery. In #83, when Dick returns to his apartment, he tells Babs “You heard? I have a sister. And even better… There’s a chance she’s not evil,” to which she replies  “I hear. You need to talk about it?” Rather than replying, or, indeed, talking about how he feels about this revelation, Dick instead passes out. As readers we never get to see if said conversation happened (which would also develop Dick and Babs’ relations), and so we never get to see Dick grapple with this life changing revelation..

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Leaping into the Light Part Six. Nightwing: Rebirth. 83, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021. pp 12)

Conveniently, Melinda’s morals and her approaches to solution also perfectly align with Dick’s own. Not only is she not the bad guy Dick originally thought she was, but she is actively working against those Dick wishes to stop. And, again, Dick takes her word for it without a second thought. Dick appears skeptical for a mere second before Melinda gives him an out by asking if he has “difficulty believing someone could have a double life.” 

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Leaping into the Light Part Six. Nightwing: Rebirth. 83, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021. pp 04)

This question misses the point of what should be Dick’s understandable suspicion. Just because Dick can believe someone can live a double life, it does not mean he should immediately accept the words of a woman he has never met before without any evidence. Neither should he just take her word for it when she says that she “brought down two crime bosses from within” and that she wishes “to do the same for Bludhaven.”

Just as baffling as the fact that Dick immediately believes is the fact that he is ready to include her in all of his plans to take down Blockbuster without even investigating whether she might have ulterior motives.

And this goes both ways. When Melinda claims to have the same goals as Dick, she does not question Dick’s motivations. Neither does she question the legality of having a vigilante in the city, working outside of the system. 

The problem is not just that they have the same objective — take down Blockbuster — but that their approach to said objective is the exact same, that their beliefs in what would be best for Bludhaven perfectly align, and so they trust each other with critical information almost instantaneously, denying the reader the opportunity to read them about them earning each other’s trust by trying to persuade the to their side.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Leaping into the Light Part Six. Nightwing: Rebirth. 83, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021. pp 05)

fter meeting one another, Dick and Melinda work closely together, and soon they start to think of themselves as siblings. This, however, happens off-screen. Melinda and Dick hardly ever appear together on the page, and Dick only thinks of her when it is convenient to the plot.  

As such, we are left with a significant change to a character’s backstory without having any conflict or significance created by this new addition. Melinda is not evil, so there's no conflict to be added. Melinda and Dick's morals not only perfectly align, but their methodology does as well. Dick is also not suspicious of Melinda, and Melinda views vigilantism and Nightwing’s presence in Bludhaven as a positive. There are no secret identity issues where Melinda doesn't know Dick and Nightwing are the same person and has contradicting feelings for each persona. Since Dick immediately takes her word when she claims to be his sister and when she claims to “not be evil,”  there is no need for her to win him over. There is no need for Dick to get Melinda to trust him. In other words, there is no room for this relationship to develop in front of the readers’ eyes so that we can grow to care for their bond and become invested in their dynamic. Every potential conflict or development is resolved and achieved as soon as the idea of Dick having a secret sister is introduced to the reader, making so that the storyline goes from its beginning to its endpoint in just two issues. 

This further destroys Dick’s characterization. Rather than trusting, Dick comes across as gullible, as he will blindly take the words of others when they tell him they are not evil. Dick comes off as incompetent, as he was unmasked so quickly and so easily when trying to investigate Melinda. And Melinda becomes a plot device, not a character. She is a deus-ex-machina who is there to call Dick when Blockbuster is going to try to kill him so Dick can escape at last second

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Get Grayson Act Three. Nightwing: Rebirth. 90, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022. pp 04)

Or to bring Dick to danger when the plot needs Dick to be in danger.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. The Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Part Three. Nightwing: Rebirth. 94, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022. pp 22)

A lot of this could have been avoided if Melinda just wasn't Dick's sister, and instead they were made into reluctant allies. There would be no reason for her and Dick to spend time together outside of Nightwing-business or develop a sibling-bond, and without the Grayson connection, there would be the tension of Dick not knowing whether she is a threat. Losing the Grayson connection would also allow Melinda to become her own person, with her own history and interiority outside of Dick, John Grayson, and Zucco. She, too, could have become a face of Bludhaven so that her relevance to the plot would be through the city rather than Dick’s past. 

But that would require Dick to have meaningful interactions with a woman who is not related to him and who is not Barbara Gordon, and there would have been the threat of any tension between Dick and Melinda to be seen as romantic or sexual. It would have also required Taylor to put in the work to make an otherwise everyday human into someone who can excel in her work despite her ordinariness. 

Instead of letting the audience witness Dick and Melinda grow closer to one another, their bond as allies, friends, and siblings is developed off-screen. Taylor opts to skip over the interesting and messy steps that it takes to create such a relationship by instead having them immediately like and trust one another. 

As I said in the beginning of this section, I was never personally going to like "Dick's secret sibling" concept, but I could have still liked Melinda for her own character. Or I could have fallen in love with the sibling relationship she would build with Dick, had I been allowed the chance to witness it grow for myself. But Taylor makes no effort to endear his readers to Melinda as a character or to her relationship with Dick. Instead, she becomes the perfect example of so many of Taylor’s weaknesses as a writer — his distaste for conflict;  his tendency to show and not tell; his wanting to create plot twists that look shocking in a social media post while having no desire to follow through the consequences of said plot point; his wanting to create emotional pay-offs without putting in the work beforehand; his complete lack of understanding or care for Dick's character. Melinda embodies all of these problems.

[tickletoy]

🌺 Tumblr's (other) public tickle toy 🌺

Credit to @tickle-dish for the template, inspiration and courage to try something like this! ❤️

When I'm here, I'm here to get tickled, teased, and tortured...and punished. 😳

😈 Current punishment: N/A

😳 Previous punishments: N/A

💕 Things I love:

🌺 TICKLING!

💖 TICKLING!!

🌺 TICKLING!!! I don't deserve mercy! 🫣

💖 Nipple play--teases, tickles, as well as below and behind.

🌺 Tickle-related CNC

🌺 Objectification and degradation

💖 Bullying in regards to/using tickling

🌺 Overstimulation and forced orgasms, also related to tickling/pleasure overload

💖 Hypnotisim (related to tickling, just started exploring this…)

💗 Roleplay/Different tickle torture scenarios

💓 Fear!! I love being scared/threatened with tickles and eternal tickle/orgasm torture! Also the threat of a knife/choking is fine but no actual pain- just the threat!

💖 Primal/Prey. Pretty self explanatory!

💗 Supernatural abilities being used against me! Anything from Gods, Demons, and Vampires in particular all really get me going in particular!

💓 One of my biggest fantasies is to be reduced to nothing more than my clit, nipples and asshole, typically put in boxes to be toyed with, for all eternity. Glory holes are also great!

🌺 DMs are not my thing(too personal) but I love asks because I have to answer them publicly for everyone to see, which adds to the humiliation.🫣 My ask tag is #yourtickletoymustanswer. Teasing, orders, bullying, scenarios. I consent to receiving mean and condescending messages. Give me what I deserve. ❤️

💕Worst Best Tickle spots:

Nipples, inner thighs, pussy, clit, asshole, sides, feet

Other stuff:

Tickling isn't foreplay for me. It's the main course. I like sexual tickling (nipple and pussy tickling is my fave, as well as behind) but don't want to talk about sex itself.

I don't really like chatting about unrelated personal topics on here. It adds to the thrill that I only exist to be used as a toy for tickles and keeps a healthy distance. I chat and make friends in other avenues. I interpret any variation of "how are you?" as "I didn't read even the short version of your bio and I will be boring to play with."

I really, REALLY like mean and degrading messages. I fully consent. I'll publish almost any ask I get to humiliate myself in front of all my followers.

For those who want the visuals, I'm 4’9, 118 lbs, C cup.

Dick pics = automatic block.

I don't like to RP in the time-consuming, scene-setting, multi-paragraph way, but I'm cool with you describing what you'd want to do to me and I'll react to it. 🫣 Exceptions are below!

If you are my follower, and especially if you send me messages to post, I consider you one of my many owners. I'm your public tickle toy. Just share. ❤️

Be aware I may brat, act naive/clueless or be submissive depending on my mood. 

Limits:

No only feet stuff please! I don't mind it being included as a spot at all, but I'm not comfortable with it being the main event.

I prefer a distance when talking, so if possible feel free to browse my Fandom list and pick a character you know to tease me with/about, this is also the main time I'm happy with potentially roleplaying something more long term/lengthy. 3rd person is preferred and though I also default to 3rd, I can do 1rst if the person would prefer it for their pleasure. Just let me know. Under the response my tags and anything in parentheses will be me out of character responding to the response/its effect on me; same with tags.

Fandom List is under S's tickle fandom list tag! If asked I'll link it!

I will share some of my tickling related writing on here, occasionally including Original Characters or Fandom characters that fit my fantasies, feel free to use them as well. Either expanding on the scenario, or creating a new one.

You can still send things as yourself! Just know I may be more shy/take longer as I'm new to putting myself out there in this context and would much prefer a character!

I'm not comfortable with public exposure, so please don't ask that of me for my punishments ❤️

[darklinaforever]

I found this on a pro Rhaesaria / anti Daemyra post. Dying of laughter. Because so far I have only seen logical arguments for not liking this stupid Rhaesaria ship devoid of meaning, of coherence, essentially coming out of nowhere and which will go nowhere after the unscripted kiss.

HOTD is misogynistic in its writing of female (and also male) characters, reducing them to the same role of wise and anti-war figure in the face of men who are generally violent and eager for this same violence through war. Not to mention the addition of violent scenes against women that did not exist in the source material, when they already suffer quite horrible things in the latter.

Not to mention making already existing violent scenes worse by transforming them to make them worse than originally. All this for sensationalism and shock to the spectator.

But most people prefer to say that those who point out these facts are the real misogynists under the pretext of defending the character of Daemon Targaryen who undergoes horrible treatment in HOTD, in particular by highlighting the OCC strangling scene that these people always bring out to prove that he is the enemy to be defeated when this typically ties in with what I said above.

Daemon was never physically violent towards Rhaenyra in Fire and Blood. But it was in HOTD because the men are supposed to be violent figures in this version. This is despite the fact that nothing in Daemon's characterization in HOTD from 1x01 to 1x08 suggested that he was capable of such a thing towards the people he loved. But what is consistency for in HOTD after all ?

Without forgetting that this obviously contributes to worsening violence against women, including here Rhaenyra, by making her suffer violence that she never suffered in the original canon of Fire and Blood, even though she is suffering from it. enough in the book. No need to add this type of violence.

Especially since once again, this type of scene is not there to tell anything, but simply to shock the viewer. Nothing more.

And a little free dig, I doubt that the members of the TB stans make more misogynistic remarks than the TG stans. Let's stop messing around.

These people also talk about biphobic and sapphobic for not liking Rhaesaria ? A ship that once again makes no sense either from Fire and Blood or from HOTD itself ? But ironically, you don't see them complaining about GRRM's non-inclusion of real queer characters in the show ?

Until now, it is those who criticize and do not like Rhaesaria or even Rhaenicent who have highlighted this point.

A bit as if it wasn't really the real, well-made representation that interests these people.

Simply to have their dose to spit on Daemyra. Or simply the fact that they will settle for anything and everything in terms of representation, even if in the end it will represent nothing at all.

Do you really want this kind of crappy ship to represent our community ? (Because yes, I'm Bi for information)

As for racism, I have no doubt that the Mysaria actress suffers from it. There are idiots everywhere. On the other hand, once again, in the anti-Rhaesaria shots I did not see anything relating to the Mysaria ethnicity.

Again, generally the conversations revolve once again around the mediocrity of Rhaesaria in terms of writing and consistency with what HOTD has so far told and in relation to the source material which Ryan Condal still does not understand if he thinks for a single second that Mysaria is sincere with Rhaenyra...

The fact is that yes, I don't doubt that this kind of bullshit exists to be anti Rhaesaria, but clearly, that is not the majority of the reason for the hatred of this stupid ship from what I have observed.

I also think that all these accusations are the super easy and free card to throw against someone who doesn't like a queer ship, whether it is poorly written like in the case of Rhaesaria, or not with others or simply the feeling and energy of shipping does not work. People need to calm down.

[bodysnatch3r]

putting this under a read more because i have nowhere else to put it. this ended up being long! mostly i am Processing.

i think what's fucking me up about veilguard being so polarising is that i have no way to make my own value judgement. i can't play it, at all, full stop. consoles are expensive, i live paycheck-to-paycheck and realistically speaking cannot even begin to think about buying a current gen console until well into 2025. i was saving up and then in june shit happened and those savings had to be used for something else and my stipend got reduced by a couple dozen pounds and the bills went up. so it goes.

i do not want to watch someone play it because it is just antithetical to how i relate to dragon age as media, and besides anyone posting playthroughs is inundated with critical comments. and the result is that the usual mechanisms i have against brainworms concerning certain types of critical statements—knowing i can fall back on my own experiences with the games and my own judgements of where the writing succeeded or didn't, what story am i trying to tell through these interactive games, how do i reconcile it with the story the devs were trying to tell, where does it diverge, etc.—are totally inaccessible to me.

this would have been fine, i think, if the fandom consensus i've been seeing hadn't been mostly "either you hate it or love it with no in between. and if you think the opposite of me you are Stupid". which. well i guess ten years in the fandom have taught me Nothing. but i digress.

i would have been fine, because i know from experience that i am often satisfied with scraps that others may find lacking—for example, i think dai quickly dropping and flattening the mage/templar conflict into a couple of missions in the hinterlands was fine, because we have several books that hint at and deal with the larger-branching consequences of da2. much of my fan experience is, generally, concerned with where i can "fill in the blanks" because that is what interests me the most. i thrive in the corners and margins. the less i know, the more i can take what canon gives us and run.

plus, over the years i have developed a tendency to meet bioware where they are at. past experience in creative industries has really shown to me how stifling any form of artmaking can be in a corporate environment, and i know that right now the blame as to why we got veilguard and not joplin is being passed around like a hot potato, but the truth of the matter is, we will never know beyond the fact that bioware management is beholden, like all companies, to the "number go up" capitalist doctrine, no doubt reinforced by their parent company ea. and that, at least following the failure of anthem and andromeda (but i suspect from even earlier, as david gaider has said), bioware has been the ugly duckling of ea's roster. (as an aside, i would love to know who in ea has such a soft spot for bioware, that they allowed them to continue on following those massive failures.)

what i am trying to say is, i have been struggling so much with something i had managed to heal myself from, precisely because the one coping mechanism that does work for me (stewing in the source material) is totally inaccessible to me. so i have all of this antsy, nervous, conflicted energy, exacerbated by my own obsessive tendencies and the fact that sometimes having a childhood hyperfixation return full force as an adult just really fucking sucks when my personality is prone to regressing into harmful thought patterns and behaviours—is it as bad as people are saying? will it be a massive disappointment when i finally do play it? should i even like it when apparently it is such a slap in the face to the fans?—and nowhere to put it.

i kind of preferred it when we all thought this game was just never going to come out and i had made peace with it.

[apricior]

yes pls give us your internet privacy wisdom

Disclaimer: I am not an expert and these are just the small things that I've started doing recently to increase my privacy online. People who know what they're talking about will have better advice than I do, so take what I say with a grain of salt and, just like with everything else on the internet, do your own research!

Alright, first of all, let me get out of the way the basics, which we all should know by now: be careful with the personal information you share. There's things that are more dangerous to share than others (for example, saying that you live in Europe is less dangerous than saying you live in Berlin) and it is unrealistic to say "never share anything about yourself, ever", but do be aware of the fact that you don't know who can see what you're posting. Be sure that you don't mind who sees the information you're making public or, if you do, that it can't be traced to you. If you're forced to give out personal information you don't feel like sharing, lie.

Second, STAY AWAY FROM GOOGLE. Try to avoid using it as much as you can. If possible, switch to another email service that will care about privacy and security (I think proton is the most popular alternative, but I've switched to tutamail for non work related things). If you're using Google Chrome, switch to Firefox and download extensions that will help you with privacy and security. This is a list of the extensions I have and their official descriptions:

AdNauseam. "AdNauseam not only blocks ads, it obfuscates browsing data to resist tracking by the online ad industry."

ClearURLs. "This extension will automatically remove tracking elements from URLs to help protect your privacy when browsing through the Internet."

Decentraleyes. "Protects you against tracking through “free”, centralized, content delivery."

Privacy Badger. "Privacy Badger automatically learns to block invisible trackers."

Privacy Possum. "Privacy Possum monkey wrenches common commercial tracking methods by reducing and falsifying the data gathered by tracking companies."

TrackMeNot. "Protect against data profiling by search engines"

WhatCampaign. "swap out Google Analytics parameters with invalid data"

If you don't have an adblocker at this point, I have no idea how you can surf the web without wanting to smash your head against the wall, but just in case you don't, ublock is my best friend and it has never failed me, no matter how invasive and mandatory a website has tried to make their ads (yes, I'm talking about YouTube).

We all know that Google's search function is basically useless at this point, so switch to other search engines. There's a lot of alternatives, but I use mainly Qwant and sometimes DuckDuckGo, and I always find what I'm looking for.

For this point, I really recommend the r/degoogle subreddit, there's a ton of resources there about how to degoogle your life and information that can be more useful to your specific case. Honestly, it's difficult, but any change you make is better than nothing.

Third, take your time with cookies. I know that they're annoying, especially on mobile, where they take the full screen, but avoid accepting them mindlessly. Take a couple of seconds to deselect all the cookies that the website allows you to deselect. If you feel like that's a lot of work (because there is no "deselect all" button, or for any other reason), ask yourself if you really want to use that website or if you can go somewhere else.

That's everything I've been implementing in my life for the past few months. I'm trying to get better at this, so if anyone who knows more than I do has more advice or suggestions about what could be done, I'd love to hear about it!

[bananasfosterparent]

I read the post saying ascended astarion fans like him for 100% kink related, and it just piss me off. The post and reblogging comments that are agreeing with it all see it from their point of view. Those agreeing comments are even worse. Their hate toward ascended astarion, actually just astarion, is more noticeable, and by doing so hating on his fans.

Oh, astarion is not actually powerful and talented, and it doesn't change even after ascension, so ascended fans must like him for 100% kink related. You know because ascended fans are just horny and definitely can't come up with interesting story with their player character.

Astarion is so cringe, yet ascended fans must have fell for it. And i am going to give impression that those fans are low for falling for it. You know because once again ascended fans are cringe horny.

Post is like i respect ascended fans BUT wow how can you like ascended ASTARION of all characters, there is no way you like him for other reasons than you're KINCKY! You know because it's not like astarion is a character you can romance and be deeply part of your story unlike gortash and raphael. It's not like manipulative player characters exist. It's not like the first and only ASCENDED vampire is actually powerful, even if he isn't able to control his power yet. It's not like he has eternity to figure out how his power works while having powerful lover and friends who stayed by his side against Cazador and Gur. It's not like he is alive and praised as a hero. It's not like he has eternity to establish powerful connections, especially since he can find Cazador's helpful notes of powerful people and blackmail materials.

No, ascended fans are 100% just kinky! Seriously?

You're not the only one, anon!

At this point, I can only chuckle about it.

If someone claims people only like the ending for how "sexy" and "kinky" it is, they are ironically reducing the ending to its sexual parts and seeing nothing else of value within it, thus rendering them guilty of the very thing they're accusing someone of lol

It's totally fine if you can't see anything valuable in the Ascended ending outside of how sexy it is! But don't assume that everyone else just sees only that too. Especially those of us who actually enjoy the ending. For many of us, it goes well beyond that part, or that part barely matters. And that's why we like it so much.

Honestly, a lot of us actually dislike how the sexual parts are handled in the Ascended ending. They don't connect to the rest of the story. In Act 2, Astarion has his confession to Tav and the pair of them come to the agreement to stop having sex. And from what I hear, this choice is carried through in other ways later on (if you invite Halsin in your romance and things like that). YET it somehow is forgotten about after he's ascended, even though there is no reason it would be forgotten about. And Tav can't make any mention of their previous agreement or anything when he asks if they'd like to make love during their last night as a living being. It's so bizarre and jarring. I mean, a simple "Are you okay with that? We don't have to have sex if you aren't ready." dialog option would have sufficed.

And I know, I know. The explanation is often: "it's because Tav has confirmed they only see him as the sexy vampire once they ascend him and he's just giving them what he knows they want now, blah blah blah!" except... no? NOTHING in the canon, in-game dialog says that. The narrator doesn't say that. Astarion doesn't say that. You can have your Tav say it for some reason, but having the option "I want your body" isn't canon unless you choose it (and even then, there's nothing wrong with wanting your forever lover carnally too).

I wish people understood that more. I really think Welch's comments were meant as damage control for people actually roleplaying instead of just going along with the most popular interpretation.

ALL of that said, what's WRONG with us finding it sexy too? I mean we all find Astarion in general attractive, right?

Besides, I see Spawn fans talk about how hot and steamy Asc Astarion is all the time. In my BG3 related FB groups, I see people post screenshots of the Ascended Astarion romance scene and Spawn-only fans commenting things like "I'd never ascend him but this is so hot!" or "I like to pretend this is Spawnstarion 🥵" or "I could never do this to him but I'm so glad there's screenshots posted so I can experience it still!". I've seen spawn fans react to those scenes with horny/arousal gifs too. So if THEY can find him sexy, why can't we? Especially since we also like that version of him for who he is and the relationship dynamic, outside of all the sexual stuff.

If they don't find him sexy, then they talk about how "pathetic" and "powerless" he is. I've seen someone who wrongfully yet confidently claimed ascension did not make him stronger and actually rendered him mortal, therefore weaker than full vampires and fully doomed. It's wild. It's why many enjoy his bat form. Once he's harmless and small you can comfortably call him pitiful and powerless, just a drunk bat who falls asleep in the punch bowl and the embodiment of the Old Man Screaming At Cloud meme. It's really unfortunate how Ascended Astarion has been bastardized by anti-fans and their own interpretations of things.

I've literally seen people say there is only one way to interpret the ascended ending (and that is, as a bad, horrible, negative, awful, tragic, abusive thing) and it's supposed to be impossible to see it any other way. And if you want to see it that way, or can't help but see it that way based on what you know in your real life, that's fine! But don't come at those of us who don't see it from that same perspective. Have some respect for others. And the character. It really does feel like some people just... hate him yet claim to love him. I dunno.

At the end of the day, it's like... I'm sorry you aren't aware of how roleplaying works and aren't creative enough to see outside of your own real world perspective and step into the mind/perspective of someone else lol

[piecesthatcanfit]

It’s 2023, and Larries still can’t enjoy Louis Tomlinson, the artist, as an individual. It always has to be about him and that other person. Everything he does has to relate to someone else. Never appreciated or celebrated his art without needing to link it to someone else. If he wears something, oh, it’s because of someone else; if he expresses himself, oh, it’s about that person; if he has lights surrounding him, it’s not about him alone; no, never, that can not be. The disrespect is constant. I saw someone tweet about wanting to get into Louis, and the replies were about Larry and "proof" compilations from when he was young so many moons ago. Not his music, not his shows, nothing about him alone, nothing about the person and artist he is NOW. Larries do not realize the damage they cause on a daily basis. The whole idea of Larry goes beyond shipping; it in itself is disrespectful, homophobic, and misogynistic on so many levels. Let me play along and say Larry was or is real, and one of them or both do not want to talk about or be public with their sexuality (and stop with the management thing). Why in the world would you engage in a behavior that outs him? What Larries do is not done behind closed doors or only in fanfics (that alone is a conversation for another day); during Louis’ AOTV premiere, his concerts, online, among his colleagues and peers, Larries are there, and they are not just loud but obnoxious. Imagine saying you care about someone (well, more about their sexuality and who he "might" be dating), and yet you out him every chance you get. Vile behavior. Louis is a person with layers, friends, and experiences that you will never have access to, and that makes you mad and outraged. You attack people he loves, people he dates, and people he wants to be part of his life. You disrespect his family, his son, and his friends, and then claim that you love him while you scream liar to him with no shame. You don’t see Louis as an individual, and you need to realize that. You take part in homophobic stereotypes and discussions about his private sex life; you fight and get annoyed when he exhibits any behavior that doesn’t fit your misogynistic stereotypes; the same man that writes songs like Angels Fly, Holding on to Heartache, Defenseless... (insert all his discography). You contribute the "tommo way" to being an asshole. You showcase classist behavior; you don’t even want to admit that everything he stands for and all his values that he has spoken about publicly go against the person you so desperately "ship" him with. Louis is a solo artist in his 30s, on his second world tour, standing on his own after years of self-doubt. He finally found confidence and joy in being on stage, he talks about how thankful he is to be accepted, and feeling safe as AN ARTIST, and yet all Larries care about is: is he gay? He can’t be straight... Grow up and reevaluate what you are really doing. Louis has had enough struggles; enjoy the music and stop reducing him into a delusional ship. 

[tirfpikachu]

before being welcomed into female circles, transfems need to learn how to handle the sex-based privilege they will always have.

how are they privileged? by (typically) not having grown up facing misogyny, and not going through afab/ofab puberty with all its struggles, and not facing struggles related to ofab bodies, which means they have horse blinders on certain issues by virtue of not having gone through that unique trauma. there is a lot of trauma and unnecessary harassment - at times sexual harassment - female/ofab people are facing at the hands of transfems and transfem-identified people right now and it's not being addressed or fought against properly by the transfem community at large. they aren't speaking up, or not loud enough. we have a right to be wary. especially if we gave some transfems a chance, and then faced sexual harassment, assault, obvious misogyny, ignorance of ofab issues, etc.

i also do believe that people who don't face transmisogyny, or anti-transfem bigotry, whatever you wanna call it need to learn to be good allies when basic respect has been established between them and a normal, harmless transfem. there are definitely situations where the transfem can be in direct harm and someone who lives as a woman can weaponize the person's gender nonconformity against them. i have seen the cruelty female people, especially conservatives, can show gnc omab people, transfems included. this is especially true of cis/bio rightwing mothers and rightwing female partners. it can get ugly very fast. i think a lot of us see this as obvious, so obvious it shouldn't be mentioned, but i like mentioning it because any kind of unique trauma and unique bigotry should be talked about. i'm not just a feminism account, i'm also a gnc activist and lgbtq activist and an activist for survivors of all kinds. i have seen some radfems be disgustingly vile towards transfems, especially about their bodies and their traumas, and i do not tolerate that behavior. i see it as just reinforcing gender roles and feeding the patriarchy.

i see a whole bunch of people being purposefully cruel and being an edgelord about it all. not even an edgelady or whatever, because y'all act like bigoted male minecraft youtubers. 4chan type humor. lolcow level bullying, celebrating the thought of anyone who disagrees with you killing themselves, and hating gnc expression that isn't your own personal brand of it, or acting like you're too good to be privileged on any axis. so many transfem predators and female bullies. and i mean REAL bullies. fucked up bullies. trauma-inducing bullies. scum of the earth level behavior. some of you are real pieces of shit hiding behind either feminism or trans activism as a shield. you are addicted to your hivemind and see yourself as a warrior against The Wokes or The Terfy Cunts. and i refuse to just look away from it and pretend our movement is ideal and there's nothing under our rugs. the tra community and the radfem community are both deeply fucked up. they also are doing great things, and despite it all i love both. i think we could grow so much together, at least in parallel. at the very least we could truly fix our issues - not just brush it off - and THEN focus on the real fucked up villains: primarily rightwing men and incels. we can cleanse our spaces of predators and real bigots. we can move beyond this bullshit and victim blaming and gaslighting.

we have our very righteous reasons not to trust the other side. respect needs to be earned all over again. but i don't think it's all a waste of time, i don't think it's impossible to fix things.

i want us to reduce harm as much as we can.

us on the nuancefem side of things, anyways.

i don't want people to keep being traumatized, to keep being harassed, to keep harming themselves. i want better for us.

there is better for us. we just need to organize and figure shit out. we need to have tough conversations without knee-jerk reactions. we need to call out the bigots and creeps in our communities. we need to see others as people with their own experiences and not just political pawns without personalities. from what i've seen while interviewing people on both sides, we have more in common than we think and we often have very similar goals. we can improve things. we can do better. we just need to form the right spaces to do so.

[learningtosmelltheroses]

that specific section of zendaya stans want to protect z from how the media and general public tend to reduce a woman's persona to her romantic life (which is totally valid because that sucks and i actually agree with them on that part) but at the same time will overhype every single relationship she has with other men (in this case timothee but i'm sure it will be the same thing with all the men she will collaborate with in the future) just to prove that she can exists and be her own person without tom. and to be clear, she absolutely does, and i think it's actually healthy for people in a relationship to also have close bonds with people from the opposite sex and totally believe in friendship between men and women. but that's not what irks me

what irks me is that they will go through great lengths to actually despise her romantic life - and literally nothing points to the relationship being toxic or anything - and when they're being called out, they always use the same argument : they're against making everything z related about tom. but let's just call a spade a spade : it's not actually about that but it's about them hating tom so much they can even stand that she's with him.

and they have all the rights in the world to dislike him, that's not even an issue, BUT what's soooo hypocritical of them is using the feminism/girlboss card while simultaneously freaking tf out whenever z just look into timothée's direction or used to complain when tom visited the dune set because i quote "he was disrupting timdaya hangouts and ruining the vibe". you cannot be taken seriously after that. especially when you're desperately trying to link her up with a dude who did questionable things lately. so they can start becoming honest that would make everything more simple

straight up insulting tom for xyz reasons, i'm like okay it happens to anyone in the public eye (even tho it's weird because nothing he does deserves that treatment but anyway). on the other hand, whenever they're hiding behind those fake ass takes, that's when i roll my eyes

[sorry for the rant but i had to let it go after seeing the 1929338th tweets complaining about tomdaya stans and then look at the profile and see genocide joker front and center, ooohh this is just too much 😭]

My inbox is always open to rants anon! I agree with you.

And we never make her whole career and life about her relationship. We praise and are excited for their individual projects but sue us for being happy that she's in a happy loving relationship. That she found true love after being in such crappy relationships before. Cause she's a good person and sweet and she deserves someone who loves her and treats her like a queen. And the same goes for Tom.

I learned already you can't use logic with this people cause they don't know it. They want to live in their made up world with the narratives that feed into their craziness.