#she’s the real version of the her she is now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

takes1 · 1 day ago

Note

i would literally sell my soul for more asahi smut(or literally anything tbh)

- (your stuff is actually so good bro. keep it up💯💯)

p.1 asahi getting rough with petite!reader

thank you!!! 😭❤️man, asahi is the most perfect character for some of my fav tropes ughh he's such a sweetie

warnings. nsfw themes. recreational use of alcohol. minors DNI

details. nsfw / fem!reader / manager!reader / short!reader / rough play! fetish / mutual size kink / mutual crushing / playfighting / version of spin the bottle / suggestive wrestling / asahi is a gentleman / inappropriate hard-ons / sitting on asahi's shoulders / houseparty / tipsy!asahi / lightweight!suga / 2.4k words / two-parter, reply to be tagged for next nsfw part

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu.

"Aawww-!" Was a chorus of giggly groans throughout the little circle of Karasuno players. Your bottle landed on what was undeniably Asahi.

It filled Daichi's living room, which had been completely rearranged to make room for a friendly fight circle. As their more reserved manager, you decided that you shouldn't partake in a bottle-spinning, play-fighting, testosterone-pumping, sweaty activity at the start of the night.

"That's not a fair fight!"

After a few drinks and watching multiple rounds, you began to adopt an unfounded confidence that you'd be able to win one of these silly wrestling matches.

The name of the game was to keep a volleyball in your arms at the end of a three-minute timer. The trick, for most, was to take on their opponent, tire them out, and turtle over the ball in the last 10 seconds.

It seemed doable from your comfy spot on the couch, when you watched Tanaka prevail over Ennoshita, or the energetic match between Hinata and Nishinoya. When you volunteered to go, you were sure you could take anyone. But Asahi? He was arguably the most formidable opponent.

"Noo, let her fight Yamaguchi!" Suga was beet-red from his one drink, clinging to Daichi at the reveal that your match was against tonight's three-time Champ.

"Yamaguchiii!" He called, giggling, but you shook your head.

You didn't want to fight somebody that wasn't a challenge. If Asahi was #1, then Yamaguchi was #12. Bottom of the bracket.

Asahi glanced around the circle of guys telling him not to, already unsure if he should accept this turn, and to let you try fighting somebody your size, first.

"Hey, hey, now-!" Daichi tried to quiet the uproar and laughter, grinning, "Let her -hhaha- let her decide!"

Now that everyone had their own opinions, somewhat sharing the sentiment that if you fought, you'd suffer a terrible loss, your delusion grew a bit out of proportion.

You stood and passed your drink to Yachi. She gasped and grabbed your shirt as if you were a sacrifice. The room fell quieter, except for the failed, muffled laughter against elbows and hands.

"I'll take him!" You asserted, "And I'll win."

Cheers, applause, noise of all kinds preceded the start of some bets. Asahi grew warm at all the attention, and the pushing, and the teasing. If he lost, nobody would ever let him hear the end of it.

"You just gonna let her talk to you like that, bro?!" Nishinoya called.

He was snickering at his best friend's face, money already on you winning. All Asahi had to do was stand up for the guys to start 'Ooooh'ing, and for you to feel much, much smaller.

You were safe and across the circle, the game hadn't started yet, but as he pulled his hair up into a bun, you started sweating. He won his match with Kageyama by real wrestling, the one with Suga was more of just tiring his opponent out, and the one with Narita was won by brute-forcing the ball out of his grip.

Those weighty arms naturally flexed, moving to grab the elastic from between his teeth to tie it up. After enough jabs from Suga and Daichi, he realized he needed to verbally respond to your challenge.

Lightly buzzed, and not as shy about the reality of the fight, "I'm not goin' easy on you just 'cause you're tiny."

Now you had to beat him. You felt the fury of generations, notably Nishinoya, who was clambering over other guys to join your corner at the clear rage-bait.

"You better beat his ass for that!" He screamed over the delighted whoops and cheers.

Daichi resumed his ref-spot, ball in hand, as you both made it to the center of the circle.

You came up to his chest. He cocked his head down at you, a subtle endearment to his eyes, like he was admiring a small animal-- it was underestimation, an intimidation tactic for sure.

"Good," You muttered, a narrowed gaze at your opponent.

Daichi placed the ball on the floor between you and backed up before starting your time.

Asahi kicked it to the edge of the circle, disinterested in a game of keep-away. It wasn't advantageous to grab now, so you engaged him.

After watching enough of his matches, you knew he went low, first, so you stayed much, much lower.

It hardly served you. Any offensive move to take him just wasn't forceful enough, and you found yourself soon trapped once he got a hold of you.

And once he did, it felt like you would never be able to escape. The way he knew how to move you around was incredible- forget about his power, you couldn't even defend against his technique.

It also didn't take a lot of guessing to know what was compromising, and what wasn't- the team was vocal about what you needed to do, which prevailed mostly as different versions of 'Run away.'

40 seconds in, he readjusted his grip to something twisted, unnatural, and you were about three steps behind when he completed the move and pulled you up.

His arms were around your waist, your legs in the air, as he came up to a kneel.

"Ah!" You squealed, world turned upside-down.

You locked your legs around his shoulders, squeezing hard, but it didn't help you as he stood up onto his feet.

"Oh- shit-!!"

"Yoooo!"

"Asahi, take it easy!!"

Your fingertips couldn't make it to the floor- you weren't sure that you wouldn't hit your head, even if they did. His body was so hot against your back, his sheer strength such a shock, it stole your senses for a moment.

"Uh! Ref! Ref! That can't be legal!" Yachi pointed.

"Technically," Daichi took a moment to puff his collar with air, scanning the 'legality' of it, "Uh- it's... allowed."

You had never been so grateful to be wearing a bra. Your shirt didn't come all the way up, but you still took a second to tuck it before gripping your way to a curl-up.

At the top, you grabbed the back of his neck. It earned a strong grimace.

It served him right, since he was making a mockery out of you.

"Mmmh- sorry," Asahi spared you an apologetic look, even letting you finish tucking in your shirt before moving to a different position.

It was all in all, a lot of time, sitting up on his shoulders. It earned many, many whistles and half-vulgar expressions that Daichi had to quiet down.

"You good?" He cracked himself up a little with the question, unable to look anywhere but between your legs. You could feel his warm panting against you and tried not to think about it.

"Mhm."

It was curt, beyond embarrassment at this point. You wanted a fighting chance to touch the ball. If he kept you up here, you wouldn't be able to try.

If you had been one of the guys, he might've been a little less gentle letting you onto the floor. Still, he kept you down and wasted no time to pull himself free from your thighs, then pin you on your back.

He sat on your hips. It seemed so lame, and simple, but you couldn't lift yourself out from under him. You were getting weaker just by trying.

It was worse when he looked you in the eye, a little too sweet, as if he wasn't even thinking about the match.

The only thing that saved you was the time running out. You had just one minute left and still hadn't touched the ball.

"Asahi, get the damn ball!" Suga hollered, now on his second drink.

He sat back a little, glancing around for it- it was enough weight displacement to yank a leg out. He was still deciding between keeping you down and grabbing the ball. You were able to take advantage of the indecision and fly towards it, just before him.

And you were exhausted, hugging it close to your chest, huffing with a kind of tired you hadn't quite known before.

Spite was the only thing you ran on, at this point. Your muscles were screaming with fatigue, your breath shallow and rapid, making your forearms a little slick from condensation.

Eyes screwed shut, you couldn't help but squeak at the sound of him upon you- he was so scary, you finally understood how other teams could get intimidated by the way he played in matches.

"30 seconds!! (Y/n)!" Nishinoya bellowed, "Just 30 seconds!! Hold it!!"

His big fingers were digging, slowly but surely prying like steel under your arms. Every time he spared a moment to readjust, you squeezed harder and impeded his progress, so it forced a different approach.

A forearm barred against the front of your hips, stalling your breath for a moment- once he had a grip around you, he completed the hold and dropped his shoulder to the floor.

And in one, big groan against your ear, he curled, flipping you on top of him.

"Noooo-!!" Nishinoya and Yachi watched along in horror.

You braced, a simple cry all you could make, knowing that you were done for. You lay face up- your back against his chest, the only thing keeping the ball in your possession was a weak arm hold.

Asahi didn't instantly go for it, though.

He crunched his legs up in lock, prying yours down with shameful ease. It must've been some form of showmanship, to truly have you trapped.

The labored rise and fall of his chest moved your whole upper body, yet another enticing reminder that he eclipsed you in size. You could've sworn he was laughing.

Before he could take the thing out of your hands, you chucked it all the way across the circle.

"Oooooh!!"

"Ten seconds! Ten seconds!"

You both scrambled away from each other to grab the ball. For once, you had a head start and started pulling yourself towards it.

A grip on your ankle, just before you could close the distance, dragged you backwards in a comical slide.

"Aah-h-!!" You yelped again, all your progress lost, all your hope fading as he climbed over you.

But he couldn't quite reach the ball. He was weighing you down to keep you from moving.

Now faced with the reality you wouldn't win, you refocused all your effort on keeping him away. You quickly got into more of a sprawl to keep his hips further back while he was distracted, nails digging into his big, outstretched forearm with a strangled, but determined groan.

He quickly silenced you by bringing that arm back, crushing it underneath your combined bodies in an unintentional choke.

The fingers on his other hand were dancing against the ball. You were able to twist, just barely, to snake your hand to his bicep and force a subtle bend at the elbow.

"Time!"

It was such a cathartic experience. For about 3 seconds. As long as it took for you to both stop bracing.

After that, your heart was pounding for a very different purpose. Though you had been able to shove your dirty thoughts to the side in the name of sportsmanship, the position you finished in was pornographic and you quickly felt a throbbing between your thighs.

"Ahhh-- fuck-!" He groaned, heavy and burning hot against your neck, "You're- Mm, you were good."

You winced at the sensation and the tired, grumbly bass in his voice.

Your legs had the outside disadvantage, knees spread wide in another dismal effort to remain low. His hips were crammed against the back of yours, allowing you to feel the indisputable bulge pressed tight against your cunt.

What made it worse was that you couldn't move until he took his weight off, and he was so tired that it took him longer than you to catch his breath.

His forearm slid off of your neck and he finally muscled himself up. It left you a bit weak, wobbly, sort of needy for that weight on top of you again.

What may have felt like a few million years was, in reality, only a few more seconds. Nobody noticed, or they at least weren't pointing it out, in favor of teasing him for not finishing the match.

"A tie, dude?!"

"Rematch! Rematch!"

"I know you're not tired!"

Since you were the underdog, you were spared of such disparaging comments. You had, after all, gotten the closest to winning against him. A tie was satisfying in its own right.

"--if he wasn't so damn distracted-,"

Suga's disappointed mutter to Daichi caught your attention as you took your place back on the couch next to them. You leaned forward and stole his attention right away.

"Not that I wasn't rooting for you!" He clarified. "It's just that--,"

Daichi cleared his throat, very loudly, twice, with a wide stare towards his friend. That was not his secret to tell.

"Right... right."

There was no time, no room to ask another question, because Asahi carefully walked the perimeter of the circle to get to Daichi. He squatted in front of him. They began talking in covered whispers. They exchanged a few back-and-forth's.

It ended in Daichi dapping him up, a big grin on his face. He patted his back, hard but friendly, and made some room so he could exit the makeshift perimeter.

You figured that was the end of it, and started to collect yourself as he hopped over the back of the couch. Kageyama was taking on Tsukishima in a heated, technically complicated match. Now, you had some sympathy because you were still unable to shake the indescribable shock of getting pinned.

It felt eerily similar to the jolt you got from his big, warm hand back on your shoulder.

When you turned to look at him, he was a bit flushed. So modest, considering how rough he had just been with you.

"You wanna come help me with somethin'?"

"Sure!" You glanced around his kind, but gruff features and couldn't figure him out.

He let you use his shoulders to steady yourself as you also climbed over the back of the couch. It was sweet, and it would've been scarier without his help.

"What's up?" You spared a look back to Daichi and Suga, who were grabbing and shoving each other in excitement, and tried to lighten him up a little with a playful shove on the stairs, "You want a rematch?"

It didn't move him at all. Sharing a laugh, he joked, "Uhh, well- kind of."

☆VIP☆

@integers @yuchacco

taglist:

none! reply to be tagged for part two!

my masterlist. more asahi

141 notes · View notes

gracie-eilish · 12 hours ago

Text

good luck, babe.

an: has anyone else heard that ai cover of billie singing this song? need a real version STAT. what an angel girl:)

The balcony was draped in the kind of quiet you could only find late at night, with stars scattered across the sky and a faint breeze carrying the scent of Billie’s vanilla candles. She had insisted on spending the evening out here, wrapped in blankets with a bottle of wine between the two of you, and you couldn’t think of a better place to be. Billie had always been your comfort person—your best friend since the two of you were little.

You took another sip of wine, letting the warmth spread through you. “Okay, but seriously, Billie,” you said, your voice teasing. “What is it with you and Florence Pugh? You’re obsessed.”

Billie smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Florence is a goddess, babe. Don’t act like you don’t see it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty. But you talk about her like she’s your dream girl.”

“Maybe she is,” Billie said, wiggling her brows. Then, with a pointed look, she added, “But you’re not exactly subtle when you talk about her either.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Billie grinned, her tone teasing but affectionate. “I’m just saying, you’ve got a little sparkle in your eyes whenever we watch a movie with a pretty girl in it. Florence, Margot Robbie, Zoë Kravitz… should I keep going?”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you laughed nervously. “Oh, stop. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it?” Billie asked, her voice softer now but still playful.

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off, but her words stuck with you. Sure, you’d always noticed how beautiful those actresses were, but that didn’t mean anything… right?

The conversation shifted to safer topics, and you let yourself relax again. Billie started talking about her latest project, and as always, her excitement was contagious. But when the laughter faded and the night grew quieter, Billie turned to you with a thoughtful look.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, her voice unusually serious.

“Of course,” you replied, straightening up.

“Have you ever… thought about it?” Billie asked, her green eyes searching yours. “Liking girls, I mean.”

You hesitated, your heart skipping a beat. “I don’t know,” you said slowly. “I mean, I’ve never… I’ve just always assumed I like guys.”

Billie nodded, her expression gentle. “That’s fair. But sometimes… it’s not as black and white as people think. Sometimes it takes a while to figure it out.”

You looked at her, unsure what to say. Billie had always been open about her sexuality, and you’d always admired her for it. But the idea that you might…

“I just don’t know,” you said quietly, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Billie smiled, her tone lightening. “Hey, that’s okay. You don’t have to know right now. But if you ever want to figure it out… I could help.”

Your eyes widened, and you laughed nervously. “Oh, really? How exactly would you help me figure it out?”

Billie smirked, leaning a little closer. “Well, for starters, I could kiss you. See if that sparks anything.”

Your heart jumped into your throat. “Billie!”

“What?” she said, her grin widening. “I’m serious. It’s a scientific experiment, babe.”

You shook your head, laughing, but her words lingered. The idea of Billie kissing you wasn’t as strange as it should have been.

The air between you shifted, the teasing giving way to something more vulnerable. “Do you really think… I might like girls?” you asked, almost shyly.

Billie’s smile softened, her heart aching with how unsure and sweet you looked. “I think you’re amazing, no matter who you like,” she said honestly. “But yeah… I think you might. And that’s okay.”

Billie could see the shift in my expression from thinking to just flat out nervous. “Hey,” she said quietly. “I’m not trying to push you into anything. I just… I love you and I want you to know that. And if you’re not into it, that’s okay. I’ll still be here, no matter what.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait—are you saying…?”

Billie’s cheeks flushed, but she met your gaze head-on. “Yeah. I’m saying I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause.

“You… love me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Billie nodded, her smile soft but unwavering. “So much, babe. But like I said, no pressure. I just—needed you to know.”

You stared at her, your heart pounding. And suddenly, everything clicked. The way you always felt safest with Billie. The way her laugh lit up your entire world. The way your chest fluttered whenever she called you “babe” or “princess.” The way you gravitated towards her in any and all social situations…

“Oh,” you breathed, realization dawning on you. “I think I might love you too.”

Billie’s eyes widened, a grin breaking across her face. “Yeah?”

You nodded, laughing a little. “Yeah. I think I do.”

You stared at her, your heart racing. And then, before you could overthink it, you said, “So what if… What if I said yes? To the kiss?”

Billie’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Then I’d kiss you,” she said simply.

You nodded, your pulse pounding. “Okay.”

Billie leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. When her lips met yours, it was soft and warm and completely overwhelming. Your heart felt like it might burst, and for the first time, everything made sense.

When she pulled back, her eyes searched yours. “Well?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, tears pricking your eyes. “I think… I think I like girls. Or maybe just you.”

Billie grinned, her relief and joy evident. “Oooh.. Good luck babe.”

You tilted your head in confusion, “Why?”

Billie just smirked looking at you with so much love in her eyes, “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

Billie leaned in to kiss you again. It was soft and sweet and everything you’d been too afraid to admit you wanted.

You smiled into the kiss, leaning into her embrace as the stars sparkled above you. For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

#Spotify #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #wlw #good luck babe #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #fluff #fanfiction

43 notes · View notes

cripplecharacters · 2 days ago

Note

Debated on whether I wanted to resend but here goes nothing.

This is Margo, my OC. She is currently being developed into a Stardew Valley mod. I don't wish to spoil too much, but she fought in The War and was injured. She now has facial + body scarring and a cane. I'm still writing the story, but so far, she has two plots: A, which is her learning to open up and accept the player. And B, which is her trying to find a hobby with the help of other NPC characters.

I'm mainly sending an ask in for feedback on her design. As of now, her torn lip has been edited to show her gums instead of all teeth. Otherwise, nothing has changed. Thank you!

Side question: How should her facial difference and cane be addressed, if at all?

[Image description: two pixel drawings. The first one shows the full body of the character; she has light tan skin, a burn scar on her face, and long red hair. She's holding a cane. The second drawing shows multiple versions of the character's portrait with various facial expressions.]

Hey!

She looks good! I especially like the top right one, very cute :)

I think my only concern would be re: her right eye - is she meant to have corneal scarring or a traumatic cataract? I'm asking since it looks like she has corneal blindness, but that's rarely caused by an injury like that (it's mostly a vitamin deficiency/parasitic thing). It's not impossible that she'd have it from a burn, but I want to make sure you're not confusing the two (since I see that a lot) and these two conditions do have different symptoms (outside of blindness).

If you're willing to address her disability then I think it would be a good idea. I'm not sure what kind of narration you're going for, but it wouldn't be ableist for the player character to simply Acknowledge that she has burns on her face (e.g., before the player learns her actual name, the placeholder could be "red-haired woman with a burn" since these are just her most visible characteristics). It also wouldn't be out of place if the player character wondered "what happened" - I know we (disabled people) all hate this question, but I don't think it's weird for someone to just think that in their head when they see someone (thought crime isn't real, etc.). As long as the player character isn't going around harassing her asking why she's disabled as the first thing they do (unless I guess it'd be to show that the player is ableist and has a lot to learn?) it should be ok.

If you want the characters to discuss "what happened" in the actual dialogue, it'd be preferably after they actually develop a relationship. I don't think it's weird to ask one's friend about their disability (as opposed to demand that information). Depending on Margo's personality and/or feelings toward the player she could either explain the whole story in great detail, leave it at "during the War, a building caught on fire, I was in it; it took them three months to put me back together but at least I'm finally back home, isn't modern medicine incredible?", or simply decline to answer that. All three are valid options; it's not like her character arc will fall apart if the player doesn't know what happened. She's visibly a burn survivor, there's hardly any mystery as to what's going on. Not everyone wants to talk about the origin of their disability, even (sometimes especially) to people they're close to - sometimes it's PTSD, sometimes it's the fact that they're tired of being asked that.

Her cane is more straightforward since in her case, her main "thing to address" are her burns and the cane would probably fall under that for most players. If you want you can have the player character compliment the design of her cane* or how well built it is, especially earlier on when it would be more awkward to just go straight to discussing her actual disability.

*Real life (not writing) tip: Not everyone likes that, please don't randomly compliment real strangers' mobility aids, especially if they're undecorated or without anything else that would imply they want to bring attention to it. A lot of people (myself included) will think you're being condescending.

Other than that, there's no reason to ignore her burns or cane; e.g. if the player visits her at home before going out she can mention that she needs to grab her cane, or put a pressure sleeve on before leaving, maybe on some days she's not available to talk to because she has physical therapy scheduled at that time, etc. As long as she has other character traits that have nothing to do with her disability (which it sounds like she already does) it should all be good.

I also like the plot B she's involved in - I wish this wasn't the case, but so many characters with facial differences don't have any damn hobbies ("obsessing over revenge for making them disabled" doesn't count) and almost never seem to have casual friends, so this is cool to see!

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #burn survivor representation #face difference #nomadsage881

48 notes · View notes

ateez-himari · 1 day ago

Note

Hi bb I hope you are doing well! I'm hoping that you are resting, cause I know it's a busy week💓

I had some questionssss and I remembered the question I forgot in my last ask

1.are there any younger female idols who have expressed their admiration towards hima?

2. Since hima is short and mingi is BIG how large is their size difference in perspective?

3. I was wondering if hima wore a swimsuit top during the water bomb festivals and did she have any iconic moments from that festival?

4.is there any other brand that hima is a solo ambassador for other than versace?

5.if you had to describe hima's personality as another idol who would this idol be?

6.Have the ateez members ever been annoyed by the completely innocent sounds mingri let out? And have they called them out for that?

Ily bb take care of yourself mwahh 💓💓

Hi sweet! 🥰 Sorry this took so long I was on a bit of a writer's block 🤧 I'm also unfortunately still sick but I actually have a lot of motivation to write now! Again don't feel bad about sending me so many asks, seeing a notification next to my inbox is one of the best parts of my day

• XG members have been quite vocal about their admiration towards their senior due to her incredible range - from heart wrenching ballads to powerful raps - and have actually met her several times during award shows (only to gush about it later)

BABYMONSTER members have met Himari while they were still trainees and were amazed at the fact that YG Entertainment brought her in as the only mentor due to her ability to take care of every aspect of their training; vocals, rap & dance. To this day they continue to develop in part by watching videos of her

IVE's Wonyoung looks up to the vocalist's strength of character, even more so now that she has begun speaking out about the unfairness of this industry, the mental health challenges, the mistreatment, etc. The vocalist has also worked extremely hard to master many aspects of performance, which serves as an inspiration to her

• Height comparison websites have her barely coming up to the crook of Mingi's neck, however something else makes their size difference so impressive because this man is WIDE while Himari doesn't have much muscle mass. If Mingi wanted to wrap around her waist completely, he would need little less than 1 hand and a half

• Hima wore the black 'Greca Border Bikini Top' from Versace, a cropped white long sleeve shirt (which quickly became soaked) and very low waisted pants with the 'Greca Border Bikini Bottoms' showing

While Jongho was being all cute and watering their little Atiny plants, this absolute menace was body rolling just a few steps away and motioning for their fans to throw more water at her (think Mingi...but female version)

This event was also one of the first times that the couple was seen being somewhat intimate with each other since she came over to her boyfriend, pressed her back to his chest and began to dance on him (more like grinding-)

After drinking from one of the plastic water bottles - which looked more like a whole kiss than a simple sip - she teased one of the fans in the front before motioning her forward and carefully dripping some water onto her head

A sensual 'The Real' dance break...that's all I can say, she even had a fake lip piercing for this performance and it was the first time Atiny got a glimpse of the spine tattoo (the tape put over it slipped slightly because it got too wet)

• There was actually a brand that recently lost any possibility of an ambassadorship (you'll find out soon dw). Calvin Klein is slowly attempting to reel her in. Surprisingly enough she's an ambassador for Porsche, Saint Laurent and Cartier

• Jimin! At first Hima was very similar to Yeosang in the sense that she was shy, wouldn't speak as much, and was somewhat naive (still is) but as she opened up more her personality grew to almost mirror Jimin's

• They deeply respect their members so when they're intimate with one another they make sure that most if not all members are out or somewhere unlikely to hear them (in part why they got the airbnb during the group's break). There's been very few instances when they were heard (usually in the changing rooms after concerts) but since it rarely happens no one has called them out on it

Ily too!! I hope your post exam break is relaxing and that you're taking care of yourself, mwahhh!! 😘❤️

#ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez 9th member #ateez extra member #ateez female member #kpop oc #himaask

28 notes · View notes

feministfang · 1 day ago

Text

All this backlashing female celebrities by none other than women themselves show that jealousy amongst women is a REAL REALEST thing. There are so many jealous insecure women who wouldn’t let go of any opportunity they find to bring down successful women. If you are wondering why you never see all these dumb pick mes hating on female celebs like Amber Heard, Blake Lively, Taylor Swift etc. hate the male celebs the same way for being pedophiles and abusers, it’s because they are not against women because they don’t believe them. They are against women because they hate women. These are the same women who uphold patriarchal standards and impose them on women which is exactly why they start behaving like angry bigots when they see other women being loud, aggressive and confident instead of soft-hearted and polite. They are projecting their own insecurities disguised as morals and they do it so confidently because they have a reason to; the reason they shamelessly use to justify their shameless misogynistic behaviour.

All that’s not to say that "women are women’s worst enemies". The reason why we see lesser men spamming with hate comments is because men are exploiting the jealousy of women from behind. It’s men who create the scandals first; men like johnny depp, justin baldoni, kanye west and that loser scooter braun. Men are the ones giving those opportunities to the jobless female version of incels to drag the shining women into the darkness where these losers already reside. When women are busy hating on one woman, men are secretly observing it. They notice everything. They wait for the moment she is left alone and unsupported and when that moment arrives, it becomes the safe way for them to send rape threats to that woman. So, it’s men who are and always will be women’s greatest enemies.

Another thing, those women are not just left alone because of misogynist women not supporting them, they are also left alone by their own supporters who are staying silent publicly like cowards and only speaking up for them privately. On the men’s side, the people who support them spam their accounts with positive comments and messages and bully anyone who dares to say something negative. They literally worship their male idols. Whereas on the women’s side, i rarely see one positive comment made for her. They are hated so much that they end up turning off their comments. Amber turned them off, Selena turned them off, Maya Henry turned them off and now Blake did it too. Although millions of swifties are always protecting Taylor, she still keeps her comments off because she knows she has way too many haters that too in her own fandom as well. Male solidarity is super strong whereas, female solidarity doesn’t even exist because either women are too afraid to stand with other women or too stupid to care about whether she’s lying or not. Men don’t care if their idols are rapists or terrorists they will always worship them. But women are literally clowns. They want to go on full detective mode, searching for the evidence, looking up her entire past history from her birth to her present to see if she has never made any sort of mistake and if whether she has made any kind gestures before deciding they stand with the woman. For the last time i am saying, choose women over morals!! It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe her or like her, put your ego aside and support her. The real world is already a disaster for us so can we at least make social media a safe haven for women??

#amber heard #blake lively #taylor swift #justin baldoni #johnny depp #radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist community #radical feminist safe #radical feminist #feminism #radical feminists do interact #women

33 notes · View notes

rheydhotts · 2 days ago

Text

// The Missing Hour...

word count; 3.9k

♡ summary; we never got to see the hour of deleted footage that takes place after ekko saves jinx, so this is my take on what might have happened.

♡ contains; jinx × ekko/timebomb. mentions of isha, vi, caitlyn, claggor, mylo, ambessa, and powder.

♡ warnings; suicide attempts, self-harm and malnutrition, nudity.

SPOLIERS! for arcane season 2 (just incase)

The only way to break the cycle is to walk away. This was the right choice.

The thought replayed over and over again in her mind. As if to ease any worries or doubts. It was calming, unlike the other voices. A quiet chant that protected her from feeling anything. No more fear, no more pain, no more rage, and no happy endings.

She burned all things from her past and it made her wonder. She’s not proud of it and there’s no difference made by harboring, but she did. Maybe if she stayed away like Vi told her. Maybe when she, Claggor, and Mylo were getting punked for their loot, she should’ve taken a punch. Maybe if she didn’t take those stupid crystals. Maybe if she never existed at all, none of this would’ve happened. It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. There’s no redo button and besides, Jinx wasn’t going to be around for much longer. Her finger was on the pin.

This was the right choice.

“Wait!” A voice called to her. It’s loud and urgent. And it startles her. Just a bit. Her head tilts to look at him. It looked like Ekko.

“I just wanna talk to y-”

“Get out of here, Ekko.”

She pulls the pin again. The first time was terrifying to him. A drastic shift in narrative, it was. He had just come back from his version of paradise. Zaun, the Undercity, was thriving. Almost everyone was alive, and happy. He had Powder. Now, Jinx was trying to kill herself. This wasn’t the first time she tried to take out the both of them. As if he could ever forget that night on the bridge. That night where she looked so…vulnerable. At peace with him as her company. Here, she looked numb. She looked different. That blue hair hacked off at the base of her neck and her eyes lacked sleep with tears stains painting her pale cheeks. Her eyes were shut as she let herself drift into death, that was before she saw him. This time she was ready to get it over with. The explosion sent him back a few feet. With a tug of the pull string, the Z-drive took him back to 4 seconds ago.

“I just wanna talk to you, Pow-”

Shit. He thought.

“Jinx.”

In her last moments her mind keeps taunting her. Playing cruel tricks to make her feel like dirt before she goes. Well not this time. “You’re too late, Ekko.”

“Always a dance with you.” He chuckles. He cuts her off before she can pull the pin.

She turns to him. Somehow, he looks more beat up than before. He’s bloody and bruised with burn marks lacerating his skin. Steam wafts from him.

“I think, I’m just gonna sit here a minute.” He takes a step back and drops to the floor. He sits on the step to the middle of her lair. “Y’know, catch my breath. See if I can try to talk an old friend out of blowing us up.” His breaths are heavy. As if he ran from enforcers.

Jinx’s eyes shift with a sudden realization. This was Ekko. The real Ekko. Not some eloquently crafted hallucination. And she almost killed him too. He didn’t deserve that. Unlike her, he had so much to live for. The boy savior.

Her gaze stops on the bomb in her grasp. It weighs a good bit. His eyes flash with charged energy. Jinx’s grip on the pin releases. A tiny shift in her thumb’s positioning, it was all the movement she could muster. “I’m tired of talking.” She brings the mechanical monkey to her chest and leans forward, off the edge of the propeller.

“NO!” Ekko reaches out for her. His other hand, instinctively, tugs back the pull string before he realizes it. The Z-drive takes them back. That was the 5th time he had to watch her try. Jinx was determined. She barely even gave him a chance, a second of silence was the deciding factor of whether she went boom. Ekko couldn't stand the sight, but he would try a million times over to get it right.

“Y’know, I learned from someone…”

Jinx turns back to him. He's closer to her now. Somehow he managed to sneak up on her. Her eyes widened with curiosity and her tense shoulders dropped. He had her full attention.

“...very special…that no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new.” For a second, their eyes meet before something draws her anyway from him. Jinx looks down at the Z-drive. The ring of crazy-looking monkeys spinning slightly at the bottom intrigued her. It looked like something she would craft. But it wasn't exactly Jinx.

Ekko follows her leering trail before once again looking at her. “Someone worth building it for.” He adds.

Slowly. Very slowly. Her eyes find their way back to his. Now that he was this close, he saw just how tired she looked. Her irises lacked that insane mania. They were glowing a dim pink rather than blue. What happened to her since the bridge? He thought.

His feet move on their own. She was looking at the bomb once again. He wanted to pull a hand on her shoulder but instead he reached out in front of her. Jinx hesitates, a momentary pause in her breathing makes her shoulders freeze. “It's okay.” Ekko eases her. His voice is quiet and patient. A stark contrast to earlier. With that, she lets the bomb drop into his palm and he disarms it. He sets the monkey down and pockets the hextech crystal.

Why? Why are you doing this? You need to break the cycle. Why won't you break the cycle? Why won't you die?

The soft sounds of Jinx’s choked up sobs catches his attention. Her body is rigid and she's using what's left of her hair to cover her face. She bites her lip to keep quiet but it's not enough. The cracks in the dry flesh start to leak blood.

“Uh…I don’t know what…Uh-” Ekko reaches for her, then pulls back, then reaches for her again. Not knowing if he should touch her or not. Do something, idiot. He thinks before finally making a decision. With a gentle hold on her shoulders, he guides her body to be parallel to his. His hands make their way to her face, lingering softly on the apples of her cheeks. She’s so cold and thin. It makes him sick knowing that if things were different, maybe if he did something different, she wouldn’t have to be like this. Ekko’s thumb softly wiped away her tears. Jinx couldn’t take it anymore. Her shield, the numbness, was gone. She felt everything, and she hated it.

“Oh! Okay. This is cool…” Ekko mutters to himself as he sinks into Jinx’s hug. She was absolutely wailing into his shoulder. Her nails dug deep into the flesh of his back, it hurt, but Ekko would rather her claw him until he was practically skinned than let her go. She’s choking, hiccuping and the tears just won’t stop. She hates it. She hates it. She hates it. She. Hates. It.

Ekko can feel the shift behind his back. The digging stopped but her hands were still there. He heard scratching. Violent scratching.

“Hey. No.” Ekko grabs her arms and holds them out in front of the two. They were bloody and abraded. Bits of her dull, ashen skin stuck out from underneath her chipped nails. Jinx tries to free herself from his hold, her hands desperately trying to find their way back to each other, but she’s too weak. Just standing up is making her feel dizzy.

“C’mon. Over here.” Slowly, he guides her to the center of her hideout. Where she couldn’t plummet the both of them to their imminent death. Jinx drags her feet. “That's it. Almost there.” Ekko takes a seat with his back propped against the iron railings. “C'mere.” He pulls her down to meet him on the floor, pulls her into another hug. Ekko tucks his chin on the top of her head, his grip on her arms never faltering. “I'm not letting you go.” He says.

They stay there, her in his embrace and he as her protector. It feels like an eternity being here together and Ekko savors every last second. Slowly breathing, their chests rise and fall against the other. Easing into a steady rhythm. Jinx was calmer now. Her blubbering diminished into a soft snivel. He’ll admit, the snot, tear and slobber combo in the crease of his neck was gross, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

“Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?” Ekko doesn't move, in fact, he’s extremely still. He waits for her to give some sort of response. Jinx nods and he gently moves her to the side. She weighs less than a bag of tomatoes. Ekko stands up, stretching his lower back before surveying the area. Jinx didn’t have much to work with. There wasn’t even a bathroom here but there was a half empty water bottle and a rag on her desk, it was good enough. Ekko grabs the items before making his way back to her. She sat there like a ragdoll. It was scary just how still she could be. Her eyes lacked all focus and he would’ve thought she was dead if it weren’t for the gently expanding of her ribcage.

He wiped himself down first, all that mucus was a sensory nightmare. Then he got to work cleaning her face of the ash, soot and dirt, then her neck. His face felt hotter as he wiped down the sides of her ribs and back through the cutoffs of her top. After all, she’s still a girl.

“Uh, Jinx?”

“Hm?”

“You think you can…uh- clean the rest of you?” Ekko holds out the rag for her. Jinx looks at him, humming in compliance, she begins to work her way out of the leather. Undoing the belt at the bottom causes the entire thing to come loose. Now it just looked like a really short poncho. Ekko quickly turns around, feeling liquid heat rising to his ears. After a few moments, curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a quick peak. She was turned with her bare back facing him too. Jinx leisurely cleaned her chest of any grime before moving to her arms. There’s a reflective glint that hits him in the eye when she makes work with the rag on her right shoulder.

“What happened to your finger?” Ekko couldn’t help but ask.

“Caitlyn,” Jinx says. She didn’t spare him a glance, all of her focus was on cleaning herself.

“The topsider?” His voice raised in volume, echoing off the metal area.

“Yup. Shot it clean off.”

“Why?”

“She wanted me dead but her aim is shit. I don’t blame her. I killed her mom.”

Ekko was fully facing her now. “Caitlyn was here. In Zaun.” He presses a finger to the ground to accentuate his point.

“Mhm. With her little enforcer friends.” Ekko was livid. How long had he been gone for? It couldn’t have been that long. He’s gone for what? Maybe a few months and this is what happens?

“Gassing the streets with Grey, the whole debacle.” Jinx continues.

“What?”

“Vi joined them too.”

“What!” Ekko slammed his fist on the propeller blade. “Are you kidding me?! Vi?! Buddy-buddy with the Piltie-goons? The same people that hunt our people down for sport?”

“The same people that killed mom and dad. Yeah.” Jinx stops what she was doing. She looks over her shoulder at him. “Yeah, it hurt me too.” She smiles. It wasn’t a Jinx smile. It wasn’t even a real smile. Just a small, weak, hurt smile.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Ekko stands up and paces around in a small circle. “I alway knew she was stupid but I didn’t think she was dumb. Why would she do that? I don’t get it.” Ekko was almost ripping the locks out of his head. He keeps rambling on about Vi and her idioctic actions.

“There’s gonna be a war.” Jinx cuts through his thoughts. He turns to her. Somewhere between his death threats, she started to clean her lower half. She was fully naked now. He turns away, eyes wide with embarrassment. “Or something.” She continues.

“A war?”

“Yeah. Vi asked me to help out but…”

“With who? For what?” Ekko was a machine gun of questions. Rapid-fire, one after the other. There was so much he missed.

“Ambessa and her army against Piltover, I guess.” He could hear the soft patters of her footsteps behind him. She was getting closer. Ekko turned away just as she passed him, clearing his throat before speaking once again.

“And for what?” He reiterates.

Jinx shrugs with a soft hum. She grabs some bandages from the desk. “No clue, little man.”

“What?” He turns to her, not even realizing it. Jinx was already in the process of wrapping her chest with the more than a bit dirty bindings, so luckily he didn’t see anything. Still, the possibility that he could've made him flustered. Ekko made an effort not to look any lower than her face. She was still half-naked. He clears his throat again. “Whaddya mean ‘no clue’?”

“I mean exactly that. Can't be nothing good though. Lots of people died already.” Jinx’s mind wanders to the events of yesterday. Isha. She thought. And they weren't good thoughts. Isha, her little soldier. That little army girl. That blasted fool. Jinx felt familiar tears clouding her vision. The same ones she cried when that kid ran through the crowd, when she lifted the gun. Isha was dead once the second crystal was put in its chamber. And she died saving them. She died saving her. They never got their rematch.

Jinx sniffles and wipes the small rivulets of water from her eyes. “Someone worth building it for,” She mumbles. She was finished clothing her chest. Isha sacrificed herself so that she could live, and she was going to waste it, throw it away like it was meaningless. Fat chance. “Suit up, wonder boy,” She starts, walking up to Ekko and pulling him in close, “because we have a war to fight.”

“Seriously?” He grabs her arms but he’s unmoving, not closing any gaps but not making an effort to pull away either. “You are in no condition to fight anything.”

“I’ve been worse than this.” She retorts, releasing herself from his grasp, “And I remember kicking your butt no problem. A few Noxuians ain’t nothing.” She walks past him with a swat of his shoulder.

“You’re a bag of bones.” He spins on his heel, offended by her arrogance, “Also I beat you into the ground on that bridge.”

“Blah-blah-blah.” She was rummaging through a mess of discarded fabrics, trinkets, and whatever other crap she has lying around.

“Why the sudden urge to fight now anyways?”

“I had a kid. Her name was Isha. And she died because of what they did. So I’m going to avenge her.” She pulls out a pair of black leather pants like some sort of rabbit-in-a-hat trick.

“You had a kid?” She slips into the pants and buckles its three intricate belts. They sat higher than her previous pair but the exaggerated hip windows made them just as revealing.

“You have ears? Geez, keep up.” Jinx sasses.

"Here." She tosses him a shirt. It was too big for her but still way too small for him, accounting for the muscle mass. He looks at it. Thick, deep greenish material with a thousand details in the patchworking. The shirt was jaggedly cut along the bottom with the left sleeve hacked off. It might have been longer in the past but right now, it was a crop top. Ekko curls his lip and raises an eyebrow. Jinx smiles. “You got a killer body, show it off.”

Ekko scoffs.

“Did you make this yourself?” He holds up the holy amalgamation of cloth. Examining the shoddy stitch work.

“Yeah, I have a talent for craftsmanship.” Jinx grins, sifting through even more bits and pieces of clothing.

“I just wanted to say I could tell. Your style choices are questionable.” Ekko rids himself of his own attire. He places down the Z-drive.

“Says the guy wearing an oversized bib.” She snorts.

“It's a smock!” He says just as he finishes removing it, it was the second thing to go after the scarf.

“It's an apron.” Jinx was nearly fully dressed. Somehow she managed to find a piece of brown leather similar to a pauldron, gloves—way too many gloves—and she was currently sewing shark teeth onto a purple hood.

He freezes. Ekko couldn't argue with that.

“That's what I thought.” She muses, happy with herself for winning their little back and forth. “Now can it and get dressed. I need to focus.”

“What? No pants?” He jokes, putting on the shirt she gave him. He was used to his tank top and thick waist belt so the air hitting against his abs was a weird sensation. It did fit him better than he thought it would.

“Don't get greedy.” Jinx snarks. Ekko rolls his eyes and walks up to the desk. He looks for whatever he thinks might fit him. Is all she owns leather? It takes him a minute but eventually he finds something. It wasn’t leather—surprisingly—with a purple strap wrapping around the right thigh and a ridiculous looking belt and side pouch. Ekko couldn't figure out where one strap ended and another began.

He took the opportunity to quickly put the contraption on, alongside a few other accessories, while Jinx was focused on her arts and crafts project. He gets stuck a few times but eventually manages to wiggle himself in. They were a bit small but the material used gave them some stretch, so they weren't that bad.

“Here.” Jinx hands him a red scarf, “It’s like your old one but red.”

Ekko takes it, “Why can't I just wear my old one?” Jinx shrugs. Ekko rolls his eyes and puts the scarf on anyway. His guard drops for a second, he’s hit with a strong pressure followed by a wet feeling. He looks down to see a paint splatter right in the middle of his chest. When he looks back, Jinx is holding out her old paint gun. The one she used during their stand-offs. A shit-eatting grin plastered on her lips. “Really?”

She tosses him the gun. Her arms spread out wide when he catches it. “Go on, do me.”

Ekko scoffs before chuckling. He holds up the gun to shoot.

“Your stance sucks,” Jinx coughs into her fist before going back to as she was. Acting as if nothing had happened.

“This is how you stand!”

“No I do not!”

“Yes it is! This is exactly how your stance is.”

Jinx blows raspberries and Ekko shoots her in the shoulder. “Wow, your aim sucks!” She laughs. Ekko scoffs and throws back the gun. She catches it and sets it aside. Climbing her desk to the high levels of her hideout, Jinx dips her fingers into buckets of paint before charging him. She manages to pin Ekko down and smear a large X across the front of his shirt. She continues to draw on him, his hands naturally falling on the curve of her waist. Once she's bored with painting him, she gets up to paint herself.

“Grab a paintbrush, little man. There's some spots I can't reach.” Ekko snaps out of his trance.

“Uh…sure.” He stands from his spot on the floor and walks to find the brushes she was talking about.

Jinx's eyes fell on the piece of junk Ekko had carried with him. Little monkeys still dancing at the bottom. From someone very special. She pondered on the thought. She had a hypothesis, although it was out there, she couldn't think of any other explanation. “Who taught you that?” Jinx called out. Ekko had found the painting equipment and was making his way back to her.

“What?” He sat back down. Buckets of green, pink, purple, blue paint splattered as they hit the ground.

“You said, some told you, ‘that no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new’. Who was it?” She stopped her artistry and devoted all of her attention to him. Ekko was a little freaked out by her simmer eyes, so intense and focused. He knew she knew. Jinx, Powder, had always been frustratingly smart. He looks at the Z-drive, watching how the monkeys spin.

“Powder.” He said. Jinx hummed, her suspicions were confirmed. Now a whole other can of worms were opened. How?

Ekko saw it in her eyes, and with a sigh he began to explain it. He started to paint her as well. Stars, crowns, a plethora of tiny X's. Jinx painted tally marks. He had no clue what they meant but knowing her, most likely nothing. Saying his adventures out loud really made him understand just how crazy this whole thing sounds, but Jinx listens to every word. Nodding along and asking clarifying questions.

“Then we created this and I came home.” Ekko was long done with his drawings. He hauls his device into his lap.

“What does it do?” Jinx taps her nail against the glass in blunt curiosity.

Ekko chuckles at the question. “It's a time loop.”

“A huh?” She looks at Ekko as if he was stupid.

“A. Time. Loop.” He leans in close to her, gritting his teeth.

“That's impossible.” Jinx dismisses.

“And reality hopping isn’t?”

She grumbles, a low growl within the depths of her chest. Now she was the one who couldn’t argue. “I guess it's cool.” Jinx picked up a paintbrush dipped in light green. On her arm, she decorates a shape similar to an hourglass. Though, it was a bit hard to see since underneath it was more layers of colors and a cloud tattoo. She smiles then extends the arm to him, giving Ekko a better look.

“A tribute to the boy who shattered time.”

Ekko was stunned. She basically just marked herself and didn't think anything of it. He inhales, “So are we ready now?”

“Nope. Just one more thing.” Jinx zips past him and grabs a dull pair of scissors. She begins to cut. One chunk at a time, she cuts until she can no longer run her fingers through. She would’ve been completely buzzed if she hadn't kept the front bang, which she dyed a streak into with leftover pink paint. “Tada!” She turns to him, “Whaddya think?”

Ekko was speechless as he took her all in. His silence worried her. He stepped closer and she turned to look in her cracked mirror again. “Look. I know I'm not the best hairdresser in the world but I don't think it's that bad‐” Jinx was cut off by Ekko’s hand lightly gripping her jaw. He turns her head to face him. Cool paint feels wet on the under of her eyes as he drags the paintbrush over her skin.

“Go big or go home.” He mumbles. Jinx smiles, finding herself sinking into his touch. He pulls away, “Now how are we gonna get to Piltover anyway?” Ekko crossed his arms and leaned a hip against her makeshift vanity. Jinx clicks her tongue. She hadn’t thought of that. There weren't many options. The perimeter would most likely be surrounded by enforcers or brutish Noxians. She taps her foot in thought. The clanging resonance of her boot hitting the metal propeller below her popped a wicked idea. Jinx’s eyes lit up with excitement. She’d always wanted to fly an aircraft. This was the closest she was gonna get.

“How good are you at manufacturing?” She grins.

♡ Author's note — this was extremely hard to write. their were a lot of questions Arcane brought up that i needed to make up answers to lol. so sorry if it doesn't make the most sense, i did the best with what i had. (OMG I FINISHED MY FIRST FIC, YAY !) — xoxo, rheyd.

p.s. i got lazy towards the end oops–

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane season 2 spoilers #timebomb arcane #jinx x ekko #timebomb #jinx arcane #ekko arcane #hurt/comfort #light angst

38 notes · View notes

tentacle-therapissed · 1 day ago

Text

Real talk, I hope those of you who switched up on Amber Heard the moment Depp’s PR team stopped poisoning your brains with disrespectful slander against her feel genuinely ashamed for your utter lack of sympathy and complete unwillingness to listen to the people who TRIED to tell you what was really going on. The same people who argued with me that they ‘watched the entire trial’ when it was airing are now going ‘wait a minute, I thought I watched the whole trial but I don’t remember seeing any of this footage 🥺’ that’s because you never did, you watched the tiktok smear campaign version of events and thought you were better than everyone else for it. You claimed to be more informed than those of us defending Heard without ever actually bothering to get informed. I’m obviously not so spiteful as to shun people who now want to support Amber, because she deserves all of the support she can get, but you all seriously need to have more shame and humility for your past behavior simply because otherwise you WILL be tricked into falling for another hate campaign like this in the future. I’ve already seen it happen with Blake Lively— anyone with a brain could have predicted that Justin Baldoni was bad news even before the lawsuit against him dropped, but no one actually bothers to look into these things themselves anymore because it’s easier to just parrot whatever social media platforms are telling you, which are often carefully cultivated to make you form specific opinions because the people behind it all KNOW that you’re gullible enough to believe them. It’s hard for us as humans to admit when we’ve made mistakes but I’m just sick and tired of people saying shit like ‘we were ALL fooled by Johnny Depp’ or ‘we might’ve been too harsh on Amber’ or ‘now there’s been new information about the trial’ like no tf we were not all fooled, we were not all mocking a rape victim, the information coming out is not new, you need to accept that you’re simply late to the party and re-examine the bandwagon mentality that leads you to just match your opinion with whatever’s the trendy thing to believe at the time.

#anti johnny depp #depp v heard #i stand with amber heard #amber heard #blake lively #justin baldoni

27 notes · View notes

hunterofartemis7 · 3 hours ago

Text

After Odysseus left for war, Penelope kept all his clothes, capes, jewelry etc tucked safely away in the closet for when he returned. She allowed no one touch them, not even herself really, that was until Telemachus found them. She left Telemachus alone with one of the maid, who was Athena in disguise, while she went to handle queen stuff. She came back a few hours later to find her son hiding under one of his fathers capes, and wearing one of his tops that was way to big for the baby. The young princess also somehow managed to get a hold of his father’s jewelry which he was both wearing, and trying to eat.

Penelope was of course confused as to how her infant son even got into a locked closet until she saw Athena trying not to laugh her head off.

“I’m sorry,” the goddess laughed, “he kept trying to get in the closet and I can’t say no to his little wolf eyes.”

Penelope wanted to be angry at her husbands mentor, but couldn’t when she saw how cute her son looked. She smiled and picked him up off the floor. “You’ll grow into them someday my son.”

“I can make small version of Odysseus clothes for Telemachus if you want. Just until he grows into them.” Athena offered, picking some of the random clothes off the floor.

“You just want an excuse to make my son small outfits.”

“Guilty.” The goddess smiled. “But I’m not hearing a no.”

The queen submitted and agreed to let Athena make smaller versions of her husband clothes for her son. She can’t say she didn’t hate it. Penelope liked seeing Telemachus crawling around like a small copy of Odysseus. As years went on, Athena continued to do this for Telemachus, while occasionally clipping a piece of Odysseus jewelry to his shirt or cape. Penelope loved seeing how exited Telemachus would get when his grandmother or aunt said he looked just like his father. He’d run around the place pretending to fight a boar like his father, getting a laugh out of the guards who saw him. Telemachus even convinced his mom to cut his hair like his father for a while. But as 10 years turns to 15, to 20, Telemachus had actually grown into Odysseus clothes and had no reason to have copies made anymore. He did it to feel closer to his father, and hoped he wouldn’t be mad when he came home. The suitors were the first to make a bad comment about it. They teased him from wanting to look like a knock off Odysseus, or for dressing like the man who abandoned him.

One real bad experience with Antonius made him want to stop wearing them all together, but Athena encouraged him to ignore what those other men were saying and wear them anyway. He was honoring his father by wearing the clothes. So he kept at it. When Odysseus was finally home, he didn’t immediately notice his son was wearing his clothes, just that his armor resembled Athena. Actually he barely noticed that until late at night once everyone was asleep and he was replaying the memories in his head. It wasn’t till the next morning after he had taken a bath that Odysseus went to his closet and found all his old clothes had disappeared, minus a few that were to big for him.

“Hey Penelope, did you hide my clothes somewhere?” He asked “I mean I don’t mind walking around nude in front of you, but I’d rather not traumatize our son.”

Penelope had a good idea where they were, but was gonna let her husband figure it out. “No, I always kept them in there.”

“Huh.” Odysseus there confused for a moment before grabbing one of the oversized garments from the his wardrobe. “Well this’ll work for now till I figure this out.”

Penelope held back from laughing, “this is going to be a fun morning.” She thought to herself.

“Well if you’re ready, we should head down to breakfast.” Penelope held her hand out for her husband. “Don’t want to miss your first real meal with your son.”

Meanwhile, Telemachus was getting ready in his chamber. He had snatched on of his father garments, jewelry, belt and sword holster. He’d already be out the door if Athena, (who had been staying with the royal family since his diplomatic mission) would quit fussing with his hair. “Athena knock it off!” He groaned trying to pull his head away.

“Once I get it out of your face I will, now hold still!” She snapped, making him face forward.

“Did you do this to dad?”

“When we were training yes.” She answered, cutting Telemachus hair out of his face. “Until he learned to put it up himself.”

“Okay okay okay!” He got up and shook the hair off him.

“Why do I even try?” Athena signed setting the scissors down. “You should head out now. Your parents are probably waiting for you.”

“Aren’t you coming?” He asked her.

Athena shook her head, “go on ahead without me, I’ll be there in a minute.”

The young prince nodded and ran out to the dining room to meet up with his parents. He ran in there and plopped down beside Odysseus, who had just figured out where all his clothes had gone. “Morning father!” He said brightly.

“Morning.” Odysseus replied looking at his son’s clothes. Penelope was across from Telemachus, trying not to laugh at her husband who was trying to find the right words to address this. Telemachus noticed both the strange smiles on his parents faces and got confused. “What?” He asked.

“Nothing. Just surprised my old wardrobe fits you.”

Telemachus was a bit confused by the comments until he remembered that he was in fact wearing his father’s clothes. The boys face turned bright red with embarrassment and he practically shot out of his seat, apologizing over and over again to his father and saying his go change. Odysseus grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his seat.

“My son you have no reason to apologize.” The old king said patting his son on the back. “Im glad to see you have my same taste in style.” Telemachus buried his face in his hands at his father’s teasing.

“He actually started wearing them to be closer to you.” Penelope told her husband whose face lit up in awe.

“Awwwww really?” Odysseus beamed, putting an arm around his son. “That’s really sweet my boy.” Telemachus buried his head in his father’s hair, his face beat red with embarrassment. It didn’t help when Odyssues made the comment about needing a whole new wardrobe since it seemed a little owl had nicked his. “So is this a new thing or?” Odyssues began to ask.

“No, he’s done this since you left for Troy.” His wife answered, which surprised Odysseus.

“Really?” The king asked, “that long?”

“Yeah. He managed to get a few of your things from your closet, well, Athena unlocked it and let him go nuts.” The Queen explained. “And both her and I made smaller versions of your closet until he grew into your normal ones.”

“Ofc Athena had an hand in this.” Odysseus thought to himself. “Please tell me you kept those, cause I would love to see them.”

“Ofc I did.” She smiled.

“Yes!” Odysseus cheered.

Penelope smiled at her boys. Odysseus who was very excited and Telemachus who was an embarrassed mess. “You two are so cute.”

@platinumink

#athena #athena epic #odysseus #epic the musical #greek mythology #athena goddess of wisdom #epic odysseus #penelope of ithaca #telemachus

20 notes · View notes

hestzhyen · 10 hours ago

Text

Chapter 63 Cool Posting

Hi, kind void. Today's chapter is straight out of an action movie! It's light on lore but chock-full of cool stuff (and some names at long last) so let's get into it.

Rough TL of editor's notes (don't take as competent):

Colour page: 音を割ぎ, 匂を割ぎ, 獲物の元へ忍び寄れ- [] Cut all sound, cut all smell, then sneak up on your prey- This one's fun because "cut" as in "eliminate" works in both EN and JP! Last page: 巻墨とチ-ムで!! [(Nakama) to chiimu de-!!] Teaming up with allies (the Masumi)!! The kanji for Masumi (巻墨) have Ruby over them spelling out nakama (なかま), the word that usually means ally/partner.

Really cool perspective shot on the colour page, by the by!

Code Name: Uh...?

Please live.

So, we finally got names for our Masumi Ninja Maids. But they're kind of, um. I feel bad for these guys if they aren't code names or nicknames ha ha.

"Ms. Masumi" is Sumi (炭): charcoal/coal "Minimura" is Rou (郎): son/young man (archaic) "Masumi Bro" is Moku (杢): woodworker/figure pattern in wood

Normally these kanji are combined with others to make a proper given name; they basically don't exist by themselves as a way to refer to someone outside of a family/surname from what I can find. I think I feel the worst for Sumi since her full name sounds like a Lalafell's from FFXIV: Masumi Sumi (巻墨炭) lol. But yeah. Names at last, even if they're kinda headscratchers! Just like the nature of this ink sorcery.

Random bullshit, go!: the ability

At this point I'm definitely operating under the assumption that Sumi's sorcery is basically just Rule of Cool: Ink Version. I guess she can manifest anything she wants or needs if she has the time to write whatever inscriptions are necessary. I've never read Naruto in full (fake weeaboo, cancel me on TWT) but apparently this is similar to how Fuinjutsu works in that series? In the sense that a user can write a "seal" and concentrate their power into it to do something crazy cool that may or may not actually have anything to do with sealing something.

In the Masumi's case, I think their surname literally meaning "rolled up ink [scroll]" is a dead giveaway that this is basically how the technique functions- the user channels their sorcery into a written inscription for a desired effect. So they're basically OP if given infinite time to train and prepare for a fight, and will have all kinds of ass-pull types of clutch factor if they stick around.

...Speaking of.

I have a kind of ominous feeling about these guys beyond the jokes about how elite squads have a high mortality rate in this series. I don't want to be one of those doomsday prophecy guys, but this chapter ends pretty optimistically in a way that makes me think we'll be saying goodbye to them at some point. We have some significant emotional investment in them by now but they're not critical enough to keep around despite the deep ties to Samura. I don't think it'll be next chapter or anything, but... they could be another Elite Squad Statistic sooner or later is all I'm saying. I want them to live though. Rou's kind of growing on me, Moku's got amazing himbo energy in a series critically lacking in hunks, and Sumi can pat my head and call me a "good boy" any day.

(Warning, pure speculation ahead.) Also, referencing chapter 53 where it seems like Chihiro's hellbent on taking his own path but is trying to rely on others- if he loses the Masumi after seeing Uruha die and Hakuri be gravely injured, then he's probably going to spiral down even further and try to go it alone for real like Samura is. That could be when Hakuri comes back in for the save where Uruha tried and failed with his mentor. But I'm just spitballing with this so I'll leave it be until we get a better idea of where the Chihiro/Samura and Hakuri/Uruha parallels are going. Don't want to get too attached to a development that may well not even happen.

For now I will pray they live and keep supporting Chihiro in all kinds of silly and cool ways. Buck the trend and don't become an Elite Squad statistic!

"Quality" Analysis Section

Just in case you forgot how fucking exhausted Chihiro must be.

The author lampshading his own breakneck pace isn't just a cheeky jab at the people fretting about it- I see this as a deliberate callout that Chihiro is going to run himself into the ground and truly break. Referencing chapter 53- Chihiro thinks he's an irredeemable monster and is rushing down the path to hell. So maybe the rushed pacing of chapter 60 was intentional after all? As in Chihiro won't give himself a break so we don't get one either. I don't want to assume too much but I'll keep that in mind as we get closer to his breaking point. How he collapses and why will be very important. As will be the people who help him recover.

Chihiro looks fucking tired man. The new scars and extra thick sketchy lines under his eyes even when he's being a badass give me the impression that he's pushing himself too hard. The only other character consistently having the tired look right now is Rou and I'm willing to bet that it's done to give him a slightly more mature look to remind us of his true age- he's had them ever since he was woken up from his nap in ch. 55. I swear to God, if Hokazono-sensei has Chihiro buckle and shatter because he won't let himself rest, I will forgive absolutely everything about Chapter 60 onward and never doubt him again. Well, almost everything.

I'm not just saying this to cope. I went back through the whole story to check Chihiro's expressions up to chapter 62 and there's a pretty clear trend. Apologies for the huge cluttered images, probably should have made these on my smaller monitor.

Chapter appearances: 18 Examples: 18

Chapter appearances: 25 Examples: 22 (not present in ch. 35) I will mention Hakuri in every post one way or another.

Chapter appearances: 14 Examples: 41 (not present in chs. 55 & 56)

Basically: Chihiro is the most exhausted and emotional he's ever been in the shortest amount of chapters (even accounting for the lines under most character's eyes getting thicker starting around chapter 47). So yeah, he's tired as fuck and absolutely should not have been so gung-ho to do a rescue mission.

The real give-away is the end of Chapter 60:

Zoom in on the second to last page: he tired and burdened AF bro

Squad roll out on the last page: cool, calm, collected

Extreme zoom-in shots to character's eyes are how a mangaka draws attention to how the character's truly feeling without having them say anything out loud. Doing this to show Chihiro is exhausted before zooming back out to have him looking like his usual self reads as him burying that tiredness to get things done with the others. He is focused and ready to do whatever's necessary to protect Iori- but Rou knows how he's really feeling and called him out which is why we suddenly see all those panels of Chihiro looking as wiped out as he feels this chapter.

Like so.

Chihiro's exhausted but won't give himself a break. And this chapter's making a point of that, because now Chihiro's at the point where even shots of him being a badass have that tired look. He's going to break from pushing himself this hard sooner rather than later or I'm sixty toads in a wooden onesie. (Surely I won't regret making this assertion...)

I haven't forgotten about this flag from Chapter 1.

I feel like a colossal idiot for needing this to be pointed out to me, but I'll admit I'm dumb. At least I took the closer look I should have been doing all along for this post- better late than never and all that.

Rokuhira Chihiro: Forever Badass

Always the coolest guy in a 3781.2km radius

Yeah, Chihiro absolutely reminded us why he's the MC this chapter despite not having as much screen time as Sumi and the Hishaku. He's just that awesome- Hokazono absolutely nails every entrance this guy makes.

Shame the general public doesn't seem to agree.

Not so above it all (but we knew this)

Nice to see that people being frightened and thinking he's a mass-murderer still gets to Chihiro a little. It won't stop him from pursuing his goals, but he is absolutely not above caring about how he's perceived. Maybe fighting against the guy who broke through the window and threatened to kill defenseless students will help some people change their minds?

Iori's definitely going to have to take some time to reconcile her dismal first impression of Chihiro with who he actually is. I'm actually looking forward to how that plays out- Chihiro probably won't go out of his way to convince her he's a nice guy, so we'll get to see her evaluation of him evolve as they spend time together. Hopefully. Maybe. I can only rarely guess what's going to happen next in this manga and I'm not at all confident we'll get significant time devoted to developing the relationship between Chihiro and Iori. I'd like to see it though. Hakuri is the best character from anything ever, but Chihiro would benefit from getting to know more people his age- especially ones that have been able to lead a relatively normal life. She can bring a fresh viewpoint to this series that's so far mostly been limited to traumatized action hero types.

Kuguri Impressions

This guy is a piece of work. Definitely obsessed with "slicing" to an unhealthy degree.

Talking through fighting, that time-old tradition.

Taking a page from his... inspiration? Mentor? Whatever? Sojo, he wants to "talk" with Chihiro in a high-octane way. Sure let's go, love the fights and the spread of them engaging each other this chapter was epic! There's an interesting line from him that caught my attention, though.

The vibes are "these guys should have just let me kill them, now look at this mess."

We're reminded on the same page that "The Hishaku have no qualms about involving innocent bystanders." And this seems to hold true for Kuguri- he killed an unarmed teacher in cold blood, sliced up a bus full of people, was ready to kill students, so on and so forth. He's not a good guy. But talking about how more lives need to be sacrificed now snagged at me- it's a total 180 from Hiruhiko's joyful bloodbath approach.

He strikes me as the type of person who takes the shortest path to everything in life and killing is just a tool he can use to achieve that. He might actually be closer to Chihiro in that he doesn't really enjoy committing murder but views it as necessary. Just in way too many circumstances and with way less morality involved than our protagonist- again, Kuguri is absolutely 100% a bad guy who will deserve whatever death is coming to him. You don't have to murder your way through unarmed civilians to reach a defenseless target.

I'm a lot more interested in seeing more of him now to find out what he's really like and what makes him tick. I especially want to see him clash and contrast with Chihiro. Our poor protagonist is getting challenged on way more fronts than ever before, and in way finer detail, but I know he's up to it. At least for now...

Miscellaneous Thoughts

"This is a surprise tool that will help us later."

I will absolutely accuse people who ask "is Chihiro using Enten?!" or "where did Chihiro get the sword from?!" of speedreading. Yes, it's very silly that the motorcycle that appeared from a magic ink scroll had a katana built in to it. We're definitely not meant to think hard about the how and why of that- it's there because Chihiro needs a proper weapon to fight with while he can't use his magic fish nuke. Hopefully it's existence isn't on a timer or something.

It will be interesting to see how he fares with a regular weapon against a guy who can cut a bus in half with his own mundane katana. How good are Chihiro's basics, really? How much did he manage to pick up from Samura and others before he started to train with Enten's powers? We're probably about to find out!

Please don't let this raise a flag for the Masumi.

These front shots always look so damn cool. Chihiro is the kind of protagonist those edgy wish-fulfillment series wish they had. If Hakuri didn't exist he'd definitely be my favourite character, no contest. Pretty rare for a shounen series honestly! He might even win an official popularity poll if/when Kagurabachi gets one! Usually that honour goes to the deuteragonist or characters with wide appeal like Gojo while the MC is in second or third. Maybe. I want to collect the data on this but I've already got a ton of other half-finished things I'm working on, so maybe that'll wait until a poll is actually announced.

A lot of shounen MCs are good guys with a lot to learn and Chihiro's not much different in that regard. But all the little details about Chihiro add up to make him the first WSJ protagonist I've been sincerely attached to in eons. ...I'll get around to finishing that "why Chihiro is a uniquely compelling protagonist" write-up one of these days.

Hooray for magic skirts that ignore physics

Not much to say here other than I'm really happy for the yuri fans. They finally have "shippable" girls interacting with each other in Kagurabachi. And an innocent-yet-brave girl is clinging to a cool, deadly beauty for safety no less- that's really potent stuff. Let the lilies bloom!

Okay, dear void. We have one more break for brain rot before resuming a normal weekly schedule on the 19th. Great time to re-read the series for the five millionth time, wouldn't you agree? Yes? Wonderful! See you in two weeks or so if I don't finish up something that's gathering dust in the drafts before then. Take care of yourself and may 2025 be your best year yet.

#kagurabachi #I miss Hakuri #We can cross off the Akira motorcycle slide from the list of Cool References to Make #I hate reading manga on my phone so much. How do people tolerate the tiny screens and spreads getting cut in half?!#Feels like it's harder to think lately but maybe I'm just getting used to new brain chemistry

22 notes · View notes

arom-antix · 2 days ago

Text

So, with the main part of this whole thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai (Samurai from here on) situation having blown over, I thought I'd make a final-for-now summary post that outlines the key points in this situation so that I can cap this for the time being. It's also for the people who've stumbled upon one of the many posts about this and have no clue where to start or don't understand the context, because yeah, there's a lot. I've had multiple people reach out who were in that situation, so here's the summary for anyone who's interested.

Links to all the posts in this situation:

Initial posts: 1. Samurai's answer w/ my response 2. Samurai's response to me

Main threads: 3. Culture and fandom thread 4. Screenshots thread

Other threads: 5. Initial receipts 6. First ask 7. First anon ask, rebuttal 8. Second anon ask 9. Third anon ask 10. Fourth anon ask 11. Fifth anon ask 12. Sixth anon ask, thread 13. Disclaimer to not misuse my posts 14. Follow-up regarding Samurai's continued hypocrisy

I will be referring back to these post in the normat "no. #".

There are multiple key players in this whole thing but seeing as this post contains primarily my words and take on things (and the others involved have honestly had enough stress about this for one month) I've elected not to tag them. You can find them in the posts I linked to. However, I will note the abscence of any real response from Samurai. I'll get into that further down.

A big thank you to everyone who's contributed to this discussion. It's been wonderful finally getting all this stuff out in the open.

Break for those who want a usable dash or don't care. But I encourage you to do so because this does matter for your fandom experience going forward.

So first, what happened? Well, the first thing to understand is that this whole thing started a long time ago, and the reason it's becoming a big thing now is pure chance. It was going to happen eventually. It happening now is just how it went. But for the sake of cohesion, I'll approach it from where the situation itself arose, especially since it displays some of the behaviours I'll be highlighting later pretty well.

The way this all kicked off was that Samurai posted no. 1 in response to an ask about the canon vs. fanon spelling of Yuuri and Viktor's names. In this response Samurai was pretty rude and demeaning towards Japanese name translation inconsistencies. There was also a minor spelling error. I pointed these things out in a reblog of Samurai's post which can also be found in no. 1. Now, Samurai did respond to this, but not in the way you'd think. She didn't reblog my post. Instead, she quietly edited the spelling error in her original post (just became incorrect in a different way), and then reblogged that new version of her own post and tagged me in it. Strange, but okay, I guess. In her response she apologised for the cultural insensitivity and explained that English was not her first language which, sure, that's fair. However, she also went on to explain the spelling error was actually just a misunderstanding, and then was even more wrong about Japanese in her explanation of that. Go to no. 3 to get an explanation as to why she was doubly wrong. I couldn't be bothered to start anything about this poor response, so I reblogged it so people could see it, said "sorry if I was harsh, have a good day", and went on my way.

Later that same day I then got an ask (no. 3 and 4) about that last reblog which said that I shouldn't have apologised for being right, and explained that Samurai was not a stranger to poor behaviour and bad takes. I was already tired of Samurai and had been for a while, so I answered the ask by explaining that I just apologised to keep the peace, but I was over trying to do that anymore.

And this is where the situation took off from. People started reblogging my post with their own grievances about Samurai, including bad experiences from interacting with her, and I began getting asks where people corroborated these claims and shared their own frustrations. I won't explain those asks and reblogs here since they're in the links at the beginning, and their main points can be boiled down to the following:

Avoiding accountability Samurai has a knack for worming their way out of taking accountability for their actions. She'll divert attention from the issue at hand, she'll use whataboutism to point fingers back in your face, she'll fabricate a sympathetic angle of her actions and use your natural tendency to want to see the good in people against you, she'll make sure you know just how sad and insecure she is, and she'll do it all while talking like she's an expert. Like when she responded to my post but didn't actually admit that the spelling mistake was just that. A mistake. She didn't have some advanced knowledge that she proceeded to explain. She was just wrong. Twice. And she couldn't even just say "Ah sorry, my finger slipped."

Victim complex She's also always the victim. She doesn't get enough engagement? The fandom doesn't understand her. She's trying so hard, why are worse posts getting attention when she makes such high quality stuff? The fandom must be rotting from the inside with no academics left to admire her supreme intellect. Someone posts an anylisis similar to hers? Plagiarism! Thievery! Piracy! It could never be because there are only so many scenes and conclusions to draw about said scene in a show that people have been analysing for eight years. Someone disagrees with a conclusion of hers? Well they're an acephobe, of course! A bigoted Karen who's trying to erase the real academics in the fandom! God forbid someone criticises her? Blocked, blocked, blocked, the fandom is so toxic, omg, she needs to get better at recognising fake friends, smh.

Manipulating the narrative As you might not be surprised, she also loves being in control of what her audience sees of the discourse she gets into. See: her not reblogging my post and instead making a separate post when that was more work than just responding directly. She's also notorious for editing her posts so when people criticise them she can feign ignorance and claim she never said that. And in terms of the individuals who've been intimidated into silence by Samurai and her entourage, if their stories got out, that would be a catastrophe, right? It would hurt her precious reputation after all.

General Manipulation and Gaslighting And yeah, that leads us to the big one. Now, these are hefty accusations and I'm especially bringing up the latter a bit dubiously. However, I think it needs to be said that many of the tactics she uses are manipulation strategies. I'm saying that as someone who's been at the receiving end of these methods. They get you to shut up. They get you to doubt your own judgement. They get you to think things you wouldn't have otherwise. And, most importantly, they get you to forgive things you never would. They worm themselves into your brain and get you to question your own ability to make decisions and understand the world. And that right there where it becomes gaslighting. Again, I'm not saying Samurai is being all that extreme but I am saying that she's leading people down the slippery slope of accepting this type of behaviour by convincing them that it's actually okay because she said so.

Insincerity This overlaps a good amount with manipulation, but I thought it was necessary to point out separately, because she's notorious for it. As was mentioned in no. 12, she has repeatedly displayed disingenuous behaviour across social medias and has used those different behaviours to twist the story into what she wants it to be, so she comes out of it looking either like a victim or like an underdog and saviour of the fandom. Is it a crime to want to look good online? Of course not. Does she use that liberty to fabricate a benevolent image of herself despite repeatedly not living up to said image? Very much so.

Bullying and Namecalling This goes back to how I mentioned her accusing people of being acephobes for not agreeing with her very important and perfectly correct analyses. Beyond this, she has also called people illiterate for not agreeing with her analyses as if these "academic" takes of hers are so obviously right that only someone incapable of accessing the source material would disagree, has called someone a Nazi for using the actual current DSM-5 medical term for autism (as far as I've been informed in private, see no. 3, 4, and 5 for partial context), and has recently become very fond of calling people dicks.

Superiority complex This all of course comes down to the actual issue at the bottom of all of this: Samurai thinks she's better than the rest of us. She thinks she's more academic, more literate, more intellectual, and laments the lack of people who can match her frea- I mean, level. No weird takes on her blog as she says (no. 4). This is a "dick" move to use her own vocabulary but is even worse when you realise that she's not all that academic or intellectual herself. Which, by the way, is completely fine! You don't need a PhD to discuss anime men. However, she makes it sound like that. She belittles posts that aren't as "academic" as hers simply because they upset her or have more interactions. She belittles the entire fandom simply because other people don't subscribe to her lonely intellectual narrative and enjoy fandom casually. She insists that her analyses are better than other metas when the academia she's so proud of isn't even really there in a lot of them. And she will absolutely make you feel worthless for thinking you can contribute to the fandom on her level because no one is as good as her.

Do I really care much about some arrogant loser on the Internet? No. Do I care that she's belittling her entire community by ridiculing their contributions and positioning herself as the one true deliverer of gospel? Absolutely. See, the issue isn't just that she's arrogant. It's that that's not enough for her. She pushes the rest of the community down so that she can feel even more superior. She also routinely complains about her lack of engagement which, wow, what a mystery, what might be scaring them away? But secondly, she's indirectly belittling the support the fans of her content are giving her. No. 11 is from one such fan who experienced this. Let it be made clear that Samurai might genuinely want to form a community and be social, but she does not see herself like the rest of us when it comes down to it. She sees herself as better. Or, at the very least, she posts as if she does.

Okay, that's all well and good, but Arom, why does this matter? Isn't it just petty fandom drama? Why should we care? Well, you should care because the people who've been hurt by this behaviour and those who've left the fandom to be free of it are your peers. They're not random Internet strangers. The next one could be your close fandom friend. The one after that could be you. The reason I'm making this post is so that you can understand how Samurai operates and not fall for her tactics. They're incredibly easy to start forgiving. I've been there. You have to catch this stuff before it turns into something legitimately damaging. I also want you guys to be able to take this situation with you and apply what you've learned to other actually dangerous people. I don't consider Samurai dangerous. To be frank, I consider her an immature embarrassment. Can she hurt you? Of course, but the scope will be limited. However, there are plenty of people of there who are much better at doing these things and do them far more insidiously with far worse goals. I want you all to be able to realise before it's too late. I was in one of those much more insidious friendships once even if the goals weren't any worse than Samurai's. They sneak up on you so damn fast.

And now, because I know some of Samurai's entourage might be itching to hit me back with this: Why is this public? Shouldn't stuff like this be kept private? Isn't this just us bullying Samurai in the hallway where everyone can watch?

Now, if you're a specific person, you'll likely recognise these coming points because yes, they're lifted directly from your ask. However, seeing as this ask was not sent to me (I'll leave you guys to ponder why that is considering all other asks were) and has not been published because the recipient didn't want to spend their energy on it, I'm not going to say who the asker is nor am I going to be speaking to them directly in this part. Rebutting a statement no one but me and a few others have even read wouldn't be fair to the asker. However, the ask brings up some very common points in discussions like this that I want to catch right now before anyone starts thinking those points are good.

So first: Why is this public? Now, on the surface this seems quite reasonable to ask, right? I personally agree that private beef should stay private and that there's no need making a bigger scene out of things than necessary. But this beef isn't private. It's not a one-off thing, and it's not new. It's been happening for at the very least months and has been happening both publicly and privately on different social medias. Oh, also, it has already been attempted to be handled privately. Doing so did diddly squat. People have actually been scared into silence by attempting to handle it like that. Some things just cannot be handled one on one because one party is entering it with malicious intent.

Allegedly Samurai has also been called out in a Discord server before (no. 12) which I can't confirm but wouldn't surprise me. Guess how much that did. Nothing. Nada. Nul og niks. But then you might be asking why a second call-out is supposed to do anything, and that's where I get to the real point of this whole thing: Getting the word out. This and all the previous posts aren't about actually getting through to Samurai because I'm acutely aware that she won't actually change by being told off. She's demonstrated time and time again that she'll simply wait the situation out and then vaguepost about how much of a victim she is and how toxic her ex-friends are.

So, instead of getting her to own up, we're trying to reach everyone else. If we can make people aware of her tactics so that they can avoid her or at the very least be wary around her, I consider that a success. If we can limit her access to victims, we'll have done what we set out to do.

Second: What about Samurai's mental health? Aren't we hurting her by destroying her reputation? Well, dear reader, what about everyone she's hurt? Do they not deserve to talk about this stuff simply because it'll make Samurai upset? This might be a kind of wild suggestion, but there's a very easy way to not be publicly called out for being an arse: just don't be an arse. No one made her do these things. Like mentioned in no. 12, she destroyed her reputation all by herself. If stating aloud what someone has done ruins their reputation, then the person who did said things is at fault. Spare the messenger. They've already been hurt enough. If Samurai had simply owned up to her behaviour and apologised and made a change when people had called her out in the past, we wouldn't be here. She made this necessary. Don't feel bad for her that she's getting what was always coming to her.

Third: Why are we digging up old posts? Isn't it unfair to hold Samurai's past against them? Now, I want you to notice what this whole situation is actually about. Is it about a single incident? No. Is it about a set of repeated behaviours which are harmful and manipulative? Now you're onto something. I agree that digging up unrelated dirt on someone just to slander them for their past when it has no or an at best flimsy relation to what's actually being discussed is mean and unnecessary and should not be done.

However, the point of showing those older posts is to make it clear that this isn't a new thing, and it's repeated and unchanging. Bringing up their posts about being insecure and being sad about not getting traction isn't about those posts, it's about showing how much Samurai clearly cares about interaction and to point out a repeated behaviour of deflecting criticism by hiding behind insecurity and making their own fans feel bad about not being good enough. It's not about the posts. It's about explaining why Samurai is uncomfortable to be around.

Oh and fourth because this is the funniest thing: What about the new fans? They'll think we're all mean and negative! Okay so first of all, and please excuse my French, absolutely dogshit take. "What about the new fans?" Dude, what about the ones who are already here and are being driven away by Samurai's awful and demeaning behaviour? What about the people who've been hurt and are finally being heard? What about when the new fans see Samurai calling others acephobes and Nazis for disagreeing with her? Is that not driving them away? Is that not projecting negativity?

Now, yes, that was targeted towards the asker because oh my fucking stars, I haven't seen a take that bad in a while. If you want to ignore or criticise this point of mine, go ahead because I can't source it and the asker's full statement isn't publicly available so I'm aware that this is a weak argument. But I want everyone to know that if you've been ignored and demeaned and called names for simply trying to assert yourself, you're allowed to be negative publicly. You're allowed to publicly make it clear that someone isn't listening privately and so you're speaking in the only place they can't ignore. You're allowed to not be peachy and positive at all times just because a new fan might come across your post. You don't have to treat every post and word you make public as an exhaustive representation of the entire fandom.

And so, with all of this outlined, I have a personal message for Samurai and Co.: Do. Better. I know you can because I've seen you interact amicably with the fanbase multiple times. I'm not here to tell you to get off the Internet and I'm not here to get you to stop participating in fandom. What I am here for is to get you to treat the fanbase with the respect it deserves. You're not better than people just because you're queer. It's the Yuri!!! On Ice fandom. Basically everyone is queer. Get over yourselves. Develop some maturity and accept that you can be contradicted. Accept that not everyone will agree with you. Accept that just because you point really hard at canon, your analyses will still just be theories. And that's okay. You don't need to be an academic to be part of fandom. You don't even need to be right. You can be straight up wrong and still be allowed to be here. However, you also have to let others do all that stuff too. You can't tell people to be nice and then not be so yourself. Fandom is collaboration which means that sometimes you have to just accept that some members of the group have takes you disagree with or find straight up stupid. However, that does not give you the right to tell them they're doing fandom wrong or claim that your way of doing it is better. Because that's how you come across. Whether intentionally or not, that's the message you're sending. Stop acting suprior. It's actually very easy and frankly embarrasing that you haven't figured out how to not be insufferable yet. You're adults. Act. Like. It.

Finally, and I promise this will he the last thing: What do we do now? Samurai has been exposed, hasn't responded, and will probably just wait for this to blow over. What are we supposed to do with all this information? Well, you're free to choose of course, but my suggestion is to simply keep an eye on her and her entourage. They've so far showed no sign of wanting to change, and if you see them misbehaving, don't be afraid to hold them accountable, or, if you'd rather not be mixed up in this, feel free to shoot me a DM or even an anonymous ask. If I get enough reports or the reports are egregious enough, I might make a follow-up post just to keep people updated.

And if keeping a 40+ year old (yes, Samurai is really that old, I was shocked too) on an Internet leash seems extreme, just remember that she made it necessary. She clearly won't listen when people tell her directly how she's hurt them. In my opinion, some social pressure to behave is in order. All she has to do is be nice and nothing more will come of this. It's up to her. It takes a village and sometimes the entire fanbase.

So, it's up to you, Samurai. Your behaviour will be the direct catalyst for whatever I and others choose to do or not do. All you need to do is behave. If you can do that, we'll get to go our separate ways. If you can't, well, you've seen what that results in. But if you do legitimately make a visible effort to change, I'll gladly make a post about that too. I'm all for a redemption, but you're the one who has to put in the effort. Not your friends, not your fans, not your victims, not me.

Your choice. I'll be waiting.

And to anyone who's dying to tear my head off: Please read all the posts linked to at the top before responding. I'm not naming any names. You know who you are.

#that got long but is anyone surprised anymore?#anyway i hope everyone is having a good start to the new year #yuri on ice #arom antix

22 notes · View notes

anikabooker · 1 day ago

Text

When she looked down at her hands. they trembled with the last remnants of his touch, as if coming down from a high that had billowed through her mare moments ago. Hands that now reeked of him, stained with all that he was made of, like she's been elbows deep inside his chest cavity, squeezing at the muscle that had long stopped working. How long exactly, she didn't know nor did she care to know of any details. She didn't need to know the exact day and time when his heart had ceased beating, just that it was beyond repair now. That was enough to have her put distance between them, rip whatever thick mist of fogged up breaths and reprehensible desires had wrapped around her eyes like a blindfold, and tight around her wrists like silky ropes, that bounded her feet and squeezed at her throat too — “Wha— You— Fucking Christ—“ sharp exhales ripped through her lungs.

Anika felt tricked, poisoned, drunk (stupid, stupid, stupid) left in the ashes of a paradise burnt.

She'd slap herself sober, just to find the strength to stomach all that truth he'd shoved down her throat. It made her sick to swallow it, so she held it in, letting it form a prominent lump in there. It's why he entertained this, wasn't it? Because he must've thought she'd enjoyed his wicked nature, that she had been as blood thirsty as he was, that she could survive him if given the chance, because as much as she hated to admit it, they were too much alike. He'd find that funny, wouldn't he? He might find it hilarious how a woman with such stomach for monstrosity and a penchant for decay wouldn't be caught dead in his cold embrace.

All she could hear was blood rushing in her ears. Nothing he said was audible, and she wouldn't let her eyes dip down to his mouth to read what was on it. Nothing he said mattered. When she looked at him, it felt like something sharp had sliced her throat. It made that chunk of honesties, that she couldn't swallow, bleed out. As if her body was rejecting the truth. Organs, and blood vessels were spitting it out. No, no, no — not real. Because denial was easier, denial meant nothing would be lost to the void, denial meant she was still all wits and power; just a little bit lonely, just a normal amount of hungry, just barely desperate to be the clay in his hands — let trusting fingers make her something less gruesome, less monster, more woman. A woman with less scars, with no evidence of defeat on her body, no death wish tucked beneath her tongue.

But she'd rather cut off his hands, then ever let him touch her again. How long would she have to scrub hers raw, to rid them of it? The memory, like a nasty stain. She was already rubbing palms red absentmindedly, mentally chanting — get it off, get it off—

Anika must've looked crazy, like bit by a rabid dog. First crawling away, tearing a long bloody scratch on the back of her leg at the sharp edge of the coffee table in all her haste, then running off to her bedroom door that appeared double before her. What the fuck are you doing? Deflect, deflect, deflect. Her eyes were moistening now that panic had fully settled, and rage was leeching on. She snatched her gun from the side of the bed, locked and loaded with wooden bullets. Then sloppily wiped at her eyes with the heels of her palms and walked out slowly — slower, than she wished with her aim pointed at him and her eyes determent to kill all that they've left in there, drop a lit match and burn the entire apartment down, chase and strangle every ghost of past versions of them, every reminder that threatened to become her own achilles heel.

Her heart was erratic and his was stopped. The loud realization in her mind, that couldn't stop banging on her person like a drum. The closer she got, the more monster she felt. "What the actual fucking fuck?" words laced with blame. Because this was all him — all his goddamn fault, for surviving her twice, for making her dream of something other than ash and death. Ironic, that it was all he was — dust and rotten bones. And she had foolishly failed to read the signs, to follow the pattern that although vague had been there all along. Like footprints in the sand — fleeting, there one second and gone the next. Maybe she was the shore — washing them away, every chance she got, just to hide the truth from herself. Bury it deep somewhere at the bottom, with all the corpses.

Has she known all along? No, shut the fuck up — thoughts jumbled and disorientated.

He doesn't understand. And he's asking himself why — over and over; how she stands to want him, how she finds the space beneath his zipper so she can torment him with determined fingers. A palm that squeezes him in between the press of their bodies. Opposing heats tear up the space surrounding them, leaving marks and light bruises where hands cannot do enough. He hears the heavy breaths of encouragement between pink lips as he steals them, over and over —

There's blood on his backside that's been carved with curled nails. An artist who had made him her canvas. He'd have let her run rivers of red across his body if that's what she wanted. If she had asked for her hand to make paint of him, he'd have told her to do it. It plays in his mind, every wanton touch from the corridor, to the sofa, to the image of her straddling his waist, from alleyway, to here — the selfish, to the selfless, the holy to the unholy — they'd been drunk and messy; staining the room with the haze of sin and desire. He doesn't care. Reid's got the music of her order ricocheting on the inside of his skull. Don't stop. Fuck, he tries to stunt the sound escaping him, where hands find themselves deeper, further involved in the heat.

Mouths remain at war. She'd fed the beast and he's hungry, devouring and taking and giving — he doesn't understand. Halstead's learning every inch of her in the images of his mind; already a memory he has to recall, her touch blinding in the wildness of whiskey and beer. The eyes that stared at him, like she had never wanted damnation more than this; the map for the maze of her innermost thoughts. Hands that had found sensitive parts, and there's no agony of a blade—

There's agony, though, in this. Not in flames and smoke, but in her and all that hangs unspoken between them. His smile had been coy and hers had stared at him like a comet caught in space. Bright and wild and quickly gone to the haze of lust and unhallowed embraces. He can remember tracing a hand up her back, following the dip of her spine; he knows the scar that sits horizontal below her shoulder blade and he's gentle in his edacity. He'd explored her because he'd believed he had every moment of infinity. She made him believe that when she wrapped around his waist and drew him into her like oxygen on an open flame.

It doesn't last. He doesn't understand it, but he'd known to expect that this would be how it ended. How could it have gone any other way? Hunter and hunted, roles reversed, depending on the day. His mind has made her a memory because he misses the absence of her touch; the flames that lapped at him in the form of her scalding grasp were softer than the sunlight. She'd asked him what was wrong — "Hey — it's okay, I'm alright..." He looked towards his hand, and moved his fingers, like he had to be certain himself. She'd done far worse to him, the first time they met than the crack in the drapes had done.

Here. Now. In the present — a nervous laugh quietly slips, as he stays on his knees on the sofa, he's reaching for her when she's scrambling away as though she'd woken up from a dream or a trance. He pulls away just as quickly, fearful instead, confused, entirely surprised she'd ripped the rug from under him. "Did I... do something?" Did he go too far? He can feel the phantom sensation of the streaks on his shoulders, where she'd left her own marks; she'd left him with an unfinished masterpiece, he supposes.

It's cold, now. And he cannot even feel it. She's Anika Booker, she isn't afraid of anything, not of him — surely? But she cowers away like he's struck her, right in from of him — "I wouldn't—" God, and the vicious memory of telling her father the same thing comes slamming back to him like he's not in his boxers and she's not crab crawling away acting as though she's the one on fire from the sun. He doesn't understand — she's wearing Reid's shirt all of a sudden, half unbuttoned, baring the gleam of flesh that is still slick with sweat and saliva between the gap in her breasts. It glistens as she positions herself in the blazing stripe of light, right beneath the wall at the window. It knocks the curtains wider when she smacks against it and instinct means he's standing up in the next blink, dodging the burst of light as he eases back into the darkness.

Swallowing, Reid shutters the confusion behind the revelation that he's missing something. He wants to step towards her and face the agony of the light, just to make sure she's okay. It surely hurts less than the cognizance and the remembrance of what she felt like pressed against him. But he has little knowledge or experience with the look in her eyes when she stares at him, she hasn't said a word; left him spiralling into the abyss of self-sabotage, self-hatred and the excruciating reality that they've gone too far. — that they've shattered the sacred line of roommates and Anika's sobered up in the wake of the next day. He's killed them. Because he should have walked away, pulled away before he knew what she was like on his tongue.

But he tries, through all the changing air — the smoke that encapsulated them, dissipates as he takes a step towards her, apologetic in whatever he may have done to garner a visceral reaction: "Anika..."

#c: reid #event: halloween

26 notes · View notes