#so here's something you may have already read :)

[millionthcephalophore]

Okay. A few things here. This is still bad! Buuuuut I would encourage people to read some full articles and get some context on Torres’ work to see exactly HOW these missteps could be justified and why they may have happened.

Portrait of Ross in LA is by farrrr Torres’ most famous candy portrait but it is not the only one! Plenty of them are frequently displayed in a line like the Smithsonian’s installation, is that less effective? Maybe. But it’s not out of line with his work. Nor is the plaques listing of an “ideal weight” or the exhibition’s listed concerns.

Gonzalez-Torres made a lot of work about AIDS and he made it exceptionally well. However, it was not his only artistic concern. This exhibition focuses on his innovations in portraiture and his lateral thinking about the genre. It would be absolutely disingenuous and sinister for the exhibit not to mention AIDS, but if I’m going to be a little honest I don’t have a problem with an exhibition placing its focus elsewhere. He was a brilliant artist and deserves recognition for all of his ideas, not just those related to his suffering.

The work is displayed and plaqued in a way that’s consistent with his other work and doesn’t go against the works’ certificate (basically it’s artist-stipulated display instructions). So from a curatorial standpoint it IS the same piece.

According to the curators a separate piece of wall text near the piece DOES further contextualize it reading, in part, “Gonzalez-Torres cared for his partner Ross Laycock, named in the candy work’s title, who died from HIV/AIDS in 1991. So there are some mentions of AIDS throughout the exhibit. I still think that this is not enough contextualization, but again, I see how it happened.

The display’s main problem is that its supremely fucking out of touch.

Portrait of Ross in LA means something to people, its more than just a portrait its a symbol, its a memorial, its grown past the artist and become something for an entire community that has frequently been robbed of the ability to openly mourn. I’ve gotten the privilege of seeing it in person a few times and it commands a reverence like nothing else I’ve ever seen. I keep the wrappers from my visit just to remind myself of that experience of twisting brilliant inadequate grief that it evoked in me. I keep the wrappers because it felt morally wrong to throw them away.

You have to treat Portrait of Ross in LA with fucking respect.

The conditions for respect have already been outlined, like several articles point out, we’ve already been here. The Art Institute did basically the same thing a few years ago and it was made clear by public outcry that caring for this piece and its significance means including a proper wall label. Its being respected by museum goers not already familiar with the piece is contingent on that wall label, people are less likely to read the other wall text.

SO. All in all I think that the curatorial decisions made here were pretty standard and I’d need to actually see the exhibit to make a ruling on their potential erasure of AIDS and Gonzalez-Torres’ sexuality within the exhibit as a whole. BUT the display also shows an ignorance of the work’s significance and a disregard for prior discourse/ meaning making surrounding it. It feels a bit like a slap in the face.

Anyways here’s another article with some more comments made by the curators if anyone wants more context:

https://www.artnews.com/art-news/news/felix-gonzalez-torres-national-portrait-gallery-untitled-portrait-of-ross-in-la-controversy-1234731113/

the david zwirner gallery and the felix gonzalez torres foundation in the smithsonian removed the descriptive plaque for portrait of ross in la by felix gonzalez-torres. the old plaque explained portrait for ross' origins as the artist's partner's aids related death, and replaced it with a plaque with absolutely no information about the piece itself, who ross was, or who gonzalez-torres was either. portrait of ross was also reeranged to lay on the floor long ways instead of in a pile as it typically is situated, and the plaque outside the exhibition FOR GONZALEZ-TORRES omits his sexuality, as well as his aids related death. i'm in utter disbelief

[thevoiceinyourheadx]

Controversial opinion but I think John Price would be terrible at comforting you.

He's a doer. He sees something that needs fixing and he does it. He hates feeling useless, hates feeling powerless, especially when it comes to the people he cares about. From the second he realises  there's something wrong (which is instantly, he's scarily good at reading people) he's all questions. What happened, who did it, why did they do it...he needs all the details, love. He'll sort it, don't you worry.

You have to remind him that he can't murder your boss, or your shitty friends, or the guy who made you spill coffee on your favourite shirt and then yelled at you for it.

(And no, he can't rough them up - "even a little!" - or give them a "warning")

And if he can't fix it himself, he'll resort to giving you orders - this is what you'll do next time, or here's why there won't be a next time, because you're cutting them off immediately. They're no good for you, and you deserve better. You need to understand your worth, you need to stand up for yourself, you need to you need to you need to - 

If you weren't already, you'd be in tears by this point,  yelling at him to just stop and listen. You don't need advice. You don't need anything fixing. You just need someone to listen to you and comfort you - you just need your partner. 

He's stunned into silence. He's never really considered that you might just need him. Soft words and gentle touches were never something he was afforded himself, so he learned to show his care through his actions, by providing for you and caring for you and doing anything, big or small, that could make your life easier. The idea that he could care for you by doing...nothing? By just being there? It was a foreign concept to him.

That being said, once you've gotten it into his head that he doesn't have to do anything, you just need him...his hugs are unbeatable. He will pull you onto his lap and completely envelop you with his arms, draping your favourite blanket over you and rubbing your back gently. If he can't fix the world for you, then he can at least distract you from it, to remind you that in his arms nothing will ever hurt you. That to him, you are the most important thing, and he needs to tell you that with words rather than actions.

He may be terrible at comfort, but with John Price you'll never doubt that you're loved.

[dandylovesturtles]

oh yeah so Yes pretty overwhelmingly won the poll so you guys only have yourselves to blame for seeing this nonsense I will probably not do much more with lol

anyway I've been mentally calling it the Draxum's Kids AU or Step-brothers AU because I didn't come up with anything creative

high level premise is that, due to ~mystic shenanigans~, Draxum from the OU (post-movie) gets pulled through a portal to another dimension, about a year behind the OU dimension, where he kept the turtles and accomplished a lot of his human eradication goals but was also a terrible father. Draxum sees the writing on the wall that his AU self's foolish actions have led to an impending apocalypse and finds the AU's Mikey (who is only called Boxshell) to help him get back to the original dimension. But as soon as he meets back up with Boxshell his Dad Instincts kick in and he realizes he can't just leave "his" kids here to die, so he decides to kidnap all four of them back to the original dimension.

this is complicated a bit by all of them hating each other

under the cut is about 3000 words of Draxum getting abducted

Draxum would really appreciate it if they could make it six months without a potentially world ending threat.

This one seems particularly suspicious. Giant black swirling vortexes giving off massive mystic energy signatures don’t simply <i>appear</i>, not for no reason. The fact that Michelangelo had been the first to notice it, cocking his head to the side like a bloodhound hearing a rabbit, was not putting him at ease, either.

“Soooo,” says Leonardo, swords already drawn and held loose at his sides, “what is it, Draxy?”

That is not his name, but because the situation is serious, he answers anyway. “You expect me to know? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Come on, you’re our mystic guru! So get with the guruing!”

Draxum just gives him the look that the kids are coming to call his “not mad, just disappointed” face. He doesn’t have any more answers than he did two seconds ago. On the plus side, it doesn’t seem like anything is coming <i>out</i> of the dark swirly vortex, nor is anything getting sucked in. It’s just hanging there, in the sky over the Hidden City, menacingly.

“Doesn’t it feel familiar?” asks Michelangelo. Unlike Leonardo, he still hasn’t drawn any weapon. He’s just watching it, curious.

“I don’t remember the Krang portal looking like that,” says Donatello. “We could see the Prison Dimension on the other side. That’s just… an indistinct vortex of doom.”

“Not like the Krang,” says Michelangelo, but he doesn’t offer any further guesses. He just watches it with big eyes.

“But we gotta do somethin’ about it, right?” asks Raphael. “We can’t just leave it up there.”

“Well, if it’s not hurting anyone,” says Leonardo slowly.

“Just because it is not doing anything in this instant does not mean it will stay that way,” says Draxum.

“Yeah, yeah.” Leonardo slices through the air, a blue and less chaotic looking portal opening up. “Let’s check it out, Dee. Get some energy readings and all that nerd jazz. The rest of you, stay here in case it’s dangerous.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if it’s me,” says Donatello, but he steps up to the portal anyway. 

Draxum feels uneasy, because he doesn’t know what that thing is or what it will do, and because he doesn’t want the two of them going alone. “I’ll come with you,” he says, and when the kids give him a look, he quickly adds, “I may notice something that Donatello would miss.”

“I don’t <i>miss</i> things,” Donatello snaps back, but that’s factually untrue, so Draxum just grunts in response to it. 

“Sure, goatman cometh,” says Leonardo airily. “Let’s just go!”

Just to be sure nothing bad will happen, Draxum steps through first. The twins follow him.

They’re on a rooftop now, just under the vortex. Draxum had been expecting… something, but there are no threats, no signs of anything amiss. It’s a bit windy, and the vortex is making an ominous buzzing noise, but that’s all.

“Can you tell anything from here?” asks Leonardo, looking between the two of them. Donatello has his goggles down and a holoscreen up, incomprehensible numbers scrolling by at a fast pace. For his part, it seems the same to Draxum here as it did across town.

Donatello’s readings slow, and he raises the goggles again. 

“It’s… definitely massive, but I can’t tell much more than that. Though… I think Mikey was right. That it feels familiar.” He looks at his brother, something complicated in his expression. “Like we’ve seen something like this before.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” says Leonardo, before turning his attention to Draxum. “How easy is it to make an interdimensional portal, anyway?”

Draxum snorts at this question. “For a pocket dimension, relatively simple. For an actual, separate world… Theoretically, it could be done, but it would take a massive amount of mystic energy and decades of experience. Especially if one does not have a mystical object to channel a portal through, like the key that was used for the Krang’s prison dimension.”

“But Mikey was able to do it,” Leonardo points out.

“Yes. And need I remind you it almost killed him.”

“You needn’t,” he snaps back. “I’m just saying… <i>if</i> it can be done, it really seems like someone’s trying it right now.” He still has his swords out, watching the vortex warily. “And what’re the odds that they’re coming here for a friendly visit?”

Draxum doesn’t argue there; he’s already treating whatever this is as hostile. Better to assume wrong and apologize later than to let down his guard and let one of his kids get hurt.

There’s the sound of footsteps behind them, and the three of them turn at once, startled. “Well, there’s Mikey,” Leonardo is already saying in a resigned sort of way, like he knew Michelangelo would join them before he gave the command.

“Sorry, Leo,” says Raphael, landing with heavier tread on the rooftop just behind Michelangelo. “He gave me the slip.”

“Guys, it’s fine!” Michelangelo argues, in that tone he uses when he feels like he’s being babied. “I’m telling you, whatever’s making that portal isn’t here to hurt us.”

“And you know this based on what evidence?” asks Donatello.

“It’s a feeling!”

“Ah yes, feelings, how quantifiable.”

“Well <i>you</i> don’t have any evidence it’s evil either, Donald!” Michelangelo retorts.

Draxum is about to step into the middle of this quarrel when Leonardo stops it for him.

“Guess we’re about to find out who’s right,” he says, eyes locked on something above them, and Draxum looks up just in time to see that there’s <i>movement</i> coming from the vortex now. “Dee, take Raph; Miguel, you’re with me.”

“Wait, guys, we should just-” Michelangelo tries again, but a shimmering blue portal under his feet stops him. Leonardo and Michelangelo reappear in the sky above, Leonardo using his portals to stay airborne while Michelangelo catches himself with his mystic powers. There’s the roar of a jet, and then Donnie is after them, his shimmering mystic tech carrying himself with Raphael dangling underneath.

And of course they’ve left him on the roof. Draxum sighs. <i>Children</i>.

He pops several vines on the roof and uses them to propel himself skyward, eyes searching for what has come through the portal, if that’s what it is. It’s difficult to see against the black coloration, but the boys seem to have gathered under a figure in a dark cloak, who emerges slowly from the middle of the vortex. It seems to cling to them like dark, black ink, the mystic energy drawing out behind them in long, gooey ropes. 

Draxum knows he is still many meters away, but even still, he doesn’t think the figure is very large. It’s a surprise, given that the vortex itself is at least fifteen or more meters across, but the figure coming out is short and slight, not even as big as Michelangelo. Of course, that doesn’t mean much; plenty of yokai are small statured naturally, as are some humans. Even Lou Jitsu is small, now, but still mighty. He can’t let the size of the person put him off guard, especially when they have summoned such massive mystic energy.

“Hey!” cries out Michelangelo. “Can we talk to you!?”

The figure in the cloak seems to startle at being addressed. For a moment, they hang in the air, the ropey energy of the vortex growing thicker on their arms and legs. Almost like it’s trying to pull them back.

The figure seems to realize this, too, because they jerk forward and raise their arms in a panicked arc.

Fire comes out - dark flames with incandescent blue cores that Draxum knows are hotter than any normal flame. If the boys are struck, the damage will be severe. Thankfully, Michelangelo yelps and whirls aside before he can be burned.

“I don’t think they’re interested in talking!” calls Donatello.

“That’s alright,” yells Raphael, his ninpo lighting his body red, “because <i>I’m</i> interested in smashing!”

The midair fight begins in earnest now, the boys darting around the figure with their weapons drawn, even Michelangelo. The cloaked figure fights back with the flames, dark and so hot that as Draxum’s vines carry him closer, he can feel the heat coming off of them. Yet, despite the intensity of the attacks, Draxum notices that they are unwieldy and unpracticed, like the wielder has no real experience in fighting, and certainly not midair against so many opponents. Add to that, the strange, inklike properties of the still-spinning vortex seem to be actively trying to pull the figure back; each time they make progress, the moment their attention is drawn by one of the boys, they’re yanked back another few feet.

Draxum sprouts a few more vines off his main one, so that he can move more freely. Aerial combat has never been his forte, but he can make it work. So long as none of those desperate fire attacks burn through his vines and send him tumbling to the ground (he can only hope, in that event, that one of the twins notices him). 

The cloaked figure is still attacking wildly, and the boys have to move fast to keep out of the way. It’s easier for Michelangelo and Donatello, who can stay airborne indefinitely; Leonardo, meanwhile, has to use his portals to catch himself and Raphael periodically, portalling them back to the sky or giving them a portal to ground to launch off of. This leaves them open to attack.

Draxum couldn’t have made it in time if he’d wanted to, but in the moment he isn’t thinking he has to.

One of the unfocused black flames strikes Raphael; his ninpo projection protects him from being harmed, but he still lets out a gasp of surprise as it burns rapidly through the ninpo itself, leaving him exposed. Donatello swoops in to catch him before he can fall, and all the boys hang back for a moment, stunned by this development.

“What was <i>that</i>!?” Leonardo calls out, portaling above Donatello and landing on his constructed battleshell (Donatello says, “Oof!” loudly, but doesn’t throw him off). “It just burned through Raph’s shield like it was tissue paper!”

“Augh… that felt… weird.” Raphael is rubbing at his temple with his fingers. “Raph did not like that.”

“Alright, clearly this guy is dangerous.” Leonardo is tense, eyes focused as he watches the cloaked figure yank free of the stringy ropes of magic from the vortex, coming closer. “But see how the portal’s trying to pull them back in? We just gotta get them close enough and send ‘em back where they came from.”

He glances over at Michelangelo. Draxum looks, too. The boy’s brow is creased, like he isn’t happy with this outcome, but his eyes are focused on Raphael.

“...Yeah,” he says finally, and gives his nunchucks a swing. They light up with his orange ninpo, the bright fire a stark contrast to their enemy’s dark flames. “Let’s send ‘em back!”

The boys spring back into action, and Draxum follows suit, his vines carrying him up, closer to the vortex. Now he can feel more of the thing’s power directly, a great gusting wind that pulls rather than pushes. He hangs back from the direct fighting and instead watches the boys closely, should he need to intervene the way he hadn’t for Raphael. If the fire can eat through their ninpo, then any of them being struck would be disastrous - especially if one of the others could not catch them in time.

The kids are succeeding in their gambit to push the figure back towards the vortex, but that means they are also increasingly putting themselves in range of its dangerous reach. The ropey strands of dark mystic energy reach out like hungry tendrils, latching onto scales before being cut or shaken off. Leonardo has all but abandoned the fight against the figure and instead puts his efforts into slicing the strands apart any time they touch one of his brothers, either directly with his katana or with a well placed portal. He leaves the strands that attach themselves to the mysterious person, and they wrap more firmly around the legs, arms, and neck of the one in the cloak.

And that’s when they finally speak.

“No!” they cry out, in a voice unmistakably juvenile. “No, please! I just want to escape - don’t make me go back!”

Michelangelo stops short, bobbing uncertainly only a few meters from the screaming figure (a boy, Draxum thinks, but cannot be sure). “Guys,” he says hesitantly, lowering his weapons. “I really think we should-”

Whatever he was about to say is interrupted by a burst of flames from the cloaked boy’s hands, spiraling directly towards him.

“MIKEY!” shout several voices at once; Draxum only realizes a beat later that one of them is his. He’s the closest, and he moves fast, putting himself and a wall of vines between the flames and his son.

The flames make such short work of the vines, it’s almost comical. Draxum watches as the fire races down the towering stalk he’s made, eating them away and leaving nothing behind, not even ashes. The vine Draxum was standing on is, of course, completely obliterated, and he feels the swoop in his stomach as gravity starts its relentless pull.

“Dad!” he hears Michelangelo call out. The boy reaches a hand toward them, and in his panic Draxum reaches back. They are only a few meters from each other, and then less and then less, fingers almost touching-

But it is something else that grabs him first.

The vortex’s dark energy feels disgusting and slimy where it touches Draxum’s fur, like a leech pulled from some noxious bog. Its tug is ferociously strong, and he realizes that if Leonardo had not been quick, if the magic had wrapped around any of his brothers’ limbs the way it’s wrapped around Draxum’s arm, disentangling them would have taken massive effort. As it’s going to take to free him now.

There’s a yank, and he’s ripped away from Michelangelo and towards the vortex.

“No!” screeches the cloaked boy, and sputtering flames spill out around him, forcing the turtles back before they can move in to rescue him. “No! Get away! Leave me alone!”

“Gladly!” Draxum shouts back, ripping and yanking to try and free his arm. “Just close this foolish portal and go back where you came from!”

“I <i>can’t</i>!” the boy screams, and he sounds so wretched, Draxum almost feels some sympathy for him. “I can’t! I can’t!”

“You must!” Draxum argues, because he can tell. The energy has wrapped too securely around the cloaked boy now; there will be no freeing him. The portal he made is impressive, <i>especially</i> as young as he sounds, but it is not complete. He could not be severed from it, even if they tried to help. In fact, if they fully pulled him from the vortex, it would likely kill the child.

No; he must go back. But… is there still time for Draxum?

“Barry!” he hears the boys call out. They try to get close, but another burst of searing heat from the panicked boy in the vortex keeps them from advancing. More of the stringy ropes of magic are wrapping around Draxum now, on his arms, his torso, his legs. His neck. They yank him back, hard, and he gasps as the air leaves his lungs. The mystic energy slithers over him like a living creature, wrapping him up more and more securely in its snare.

It seems… there is not.

“<i>NO</i>!” screams the cloaked boy, one last panicked, desperate cry, but then his voice is abruptly silenced. There’s a roaring noise, incomprehensibly loud, and Draxum faintly wonders if this is how it sounds when a star collapses in on itself.

The last thing he sees as the portal closes around him is Michelangelo’s face, eyes wide and afraid, mouth open in a shout, hand outstretched as far as it can go.

And then all is dark.

…

When Draxum wakes, he’s laying on the ground in an alley in the Hidden City.

He feels a flash of <i>something</i> markedly unpleasant when he realizes he’s alone: sadness, betrayal, perhaps even, Titan forbid, <i>loneliness</i>. It seems the boys have left him to his fate and gone home.

Then he remembers the portal, and Donatello and Michelangelo’s guess that it was interdimensional. It’s likely the boys don’t know where he is. It’s possible he’s not even in the same time.

Or the same world at all.

Disturbing as that thought is, the part of the Hidden City he can see from his vantage point seems familiar enough. He recognizes this as a part of the old downtown, not far from where he and the kids had been fighting the cloaked boy. Even if this isn’t his time, at least he should still be able to navigate - that makes things easier.

He gets to his feet, shaking the soreness out of his limbs. He hears something pop, and is suddenly immensely glad the boys aren’t here after all. He’d rather not endure another round of teasing for being “old”.

The Hidden City he travels through seems largely the same as the one he left, to a degree that he starts to wonder if it wasn’t an interdimensional portal after all. If it was, the dimension he’s in now seems to have only slight variations.

Or that’s what he thinks, until he makes it to the nearest portal back to New York City.

There’s a checkpoint set up in front of it, one that didn’t exist here before. There are guards standing sentinel, ushering through a line of yokai and occasionally asking questions. They don’t seem hostile to the yokai, but it does seem like precautions need to be taken for… some reason.

More startling to Draxum are the crests that adorn banners hung around the checkpoint, matching emblems blazed on the uniforms of the officers.

His family’s crest.

It seems this dimension is quite different after all.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

um- can we have shadow with a reader who gets chronic headaches- theg didnt tell shadow until they got one bad enough to cause tears because they are so used to headaches at that point- and shadow is a gentle fluffy bot there to help

“I’m Always Here to Help”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: You always wound up with chronic headaches on the worst of days. Luckily you had your partner to help you out this time.

Notes: More fluff, more fluff, more fluff! I hope you enjoy, anon!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

(TW for swearing, but only for one bit of dialogue.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Blinking your eyes open, you take in your surroundings, groaning a bit as you rub your forehead with your pointer finger and thumb.

You woke up with one of your chronic headaches.

Great.

The room around you is a bit dark, but there’s sunlight peeking through your curtain.

…Unfortunately right onto your face.

You put your arm over your eyes, letting off a sigh.

It’s fine, you’ve dealt with your headaches before.

You sit up from your bed, uncovering your face, and trudge off of the bed with a small yawn.

You head out of your room, entering the kitchen, seeing your partner, Shadow, making breakfast. From what it smells like, he’s making bacon and eggs.

“Morning, [Name],” Shadow says. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did,” you mutter. “You?”

“It was decent,” Shadow replies. “Sleeping beside you always makes it better.”

You let off a smile at that.

“Could you put four pieces of bread in the toaster?” Shadow asks.

“Sure thing,” you say.

You open the bread and pop the four pieces into the toaster, pushing the button down.

…Only for it to come back up.

Confused, you look at the dial, and surely enough, it’s at its usual spot.

You then check if it’s plugged in, which it’s not.

You plug it in and push the button down again, and it works this time.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief. You didn’t want to have to buy a new toaster.

After about a minute, the toast is done, and you butter each piece, placing two each on a plate just as Shadow finishes the food.

The two of you eat your breakfast, chatting about whatever, and after eating, Shadow quickly does the dishes, and the two of you head off to the couch to watch something.

…Only for Shadow to get a call on his communicator.

Grumbling, Shadow answers the call.

“What do you-”

“Shads! Sorry for the sudden call, but we could really use some backup!” the voice of Sonic says.

“And you couldn’t call any of your friends?” Shadow asks.

“Yeahh, about that- They’re all already here,” Sonic says. “You’re the last one I could call.”

Shadow lets out a sigh.

“On my way,” Shadow says, ending the call. “I’ll be back.”

“Stay safe, okay?” you request.

Shadow nods before Chaos Controlling away.

You let off a sigh of your own. You would’ve hoped hanging out with your partner would get rid of your headache, but now that was cancelled.

So you have to find some other way to get rid of your headache. So be it.

You start off by drinking some water and taking two pain relievers, which unfortunately will take a while to kick in, so now you need to pass the time.

Maybe…you could go on a run? No, your headache would get worse from that.

You could…clean the house? No, Shadow does that during his spare time.

May…be…baking?

Yes! Baking would be great!

Baking isn’t stressful, surely?

Besides, you can make something nice for you and Shadow to enjoy!

Getting out the ingredients to make a chocolate cake, you get to work.

Eggs, baking powder, flour, sugar-

Oops.

A bit too much sugar.

That’s okay, you can deal with that much.

A bit of vanilla extract, chocolate, and…

Okay! All mixed!

Pouring the mixture into a baking pan, you set it in the oven and let it bake for the required time while you make the frosting.

You put on your oven mitts to take the cake out, and-

…Wait, why does it smell like something’s burning?!

You quickly open the oven, and black smoke comes out of it, causing you to cough, backing away from the smoke while waving the smoke away from your eyes.

Once the smoke subsides you fall to your knees.

The tears from not only the pain of your headache, but from losing the cake you worked hard on, start pouring out of your eyes, and you choke out a sob.

You feel a pair of arms quickly wrap around you, and you turn around almost as fast, burying your head into your partner’s chest as you let the tears fall.

“Shhh, I’m here,” Shadow says. “Let it out. I’m not going anywhere.”

He holds you in his arms until you stop crying, and you let out a sad sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shadow asks.

“I…yeah,” you mutter. “I just…of course the day I want to do something nice for us is when I have a chronic headache…”

Shadow kisses your forehead before putting his hand on your cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, sunshine,” Shadow says.

“Eh, it’s not your fault…The pain medicine finally decided to kick in, anyway, so it’s not as bad,” you tell him, leaning into his touch. “How did the fight go?”

“Kicked Eggman’s ass,” Shadow says nonchalantly. “Also got to see the Faker get his shit wrecked, so that was funny.”

You let out a chuckle at the mental image of this.

Even though you two had vastly different days, at least you could always come home to each other to make each other’s day.

[redjennies]

*long sigh*

all right this is one of my most resurrected posts and to be quite honest, i think most people get what I'm saying here, but it could be clarified because the second it gets away from a circle of people who get it, people seem to lose the thread pretty quick. it was about a trend I noticed regarding the types of fans C3 was both attracting and whose voices were being heavily elevated within the fandom. with the campaign ending, it only feels right to say my final piece about it and be done with it.

first, this post is about whose stories and voices are centered in fandom. it is not about the cast (though having a predominantly white, culturally Christian, US American cast does influence it because they are telling stories from that lens.) it is not even really about the characters, themselves, and whether this is. it's about the fans, and specifically, it is about the lack of compassion and desire to understand, I see a particular type of white (often for lack of better word, "WASP"-y: raised middle class, culturally Christian, and/or US American/English/Canadian/etc) queer fan extend to anyone who falls out of an extremely narrow lens of "this is the default queer experience" or heaven forbid, to people who are not queer but are marginalized in other ways.

it is about how this phenomenon happens because they have been trained to see their queerness as their only identity (and therefore, in their arrogance, the only identity that matters) as it is the only thing about them that deviates from that WASP-y "default." through this lens, stories that are not relatable to that audience are largely ignored unless they are exceptional enough to be the "Academy-Approved POC Film of the Year" to be tokenized by white liberal audiences and stories that do touch on queerness but are primarily about other things like race/class/disability/etc are whitewashed into something more palatable for that hegemonic "default" audience to the point where it is practically unrecognizable from the original story. this is not unique to CR. this happens across all audiences and therefore, all fandoms.

clearly, this phenomenon leads to a problem in fandoms. if we are not extending empathy to the characters and stories that discuss perspectives that may be different than our own, than we will not be extending empathy to the real breathing humans who see their experiences (or the experiences of people they have known) in those stories. there was this post or article about why we need better POC representation that I read way back in the day and have never been able to find again that really stuck with me that said something along the lines of "we don't need representation because no black person can relate to George Costanza or Rachel Green. we already do. the problem is that white writers and audiences do not relate to black people and that shows through the kind of black characters white writers create." and I think that sentiment is relevant to what I'm getting at here. a lot of white queer fans on tumblr are often half-listening when a story is told, choosing to only pay attention when things are about them because at the end of the day, they have the privilege to do so. therefore, the fanworks they create reflects that lack of interest. the metas and fanon they write reflect that lack of interest. soon enough, the fandom itself reflects that lack of interest.

and worse yet, because queer people are an oppressed group (and to clarify, I don't want to come across like I'm saying just because we're white queers, we're not "really oppressed" or whatever), this lack of interest and compassion for people who are different than you becomes actively celebrated in fandom spaces. you have relatively privilege white queer people on tumblr loudly proclaiming characters only matter if they're gay, stories only matter if they're queer, and so on and so on. which on some level is fine if you prioritize reading and watching stories that have to do with queerness, but you do need to be aware of a massive bias you may have to what "queer stories" even are and how you are interacting with them and who you are leaving out. a great example of this is why every time there's a black bisexual male love interest in a video game, y'all keep calling him "too straight" and therefore "boring" and then getting mad and defensive when someone calls you on it. like I mean-- hit dogs holler. ¯\_(*ツ)_/¯

anyway, I was going to close with tying this concept back into CR and how there was a rot that permeated C3 and how this attitude straight up alienated a lot of fans. (god knows I got shouted out of this fandom until it got so dully unpleasant that I couldn't bring myself to give a damn anymore, and sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, I hope everyone who participated in the near constant harassment I received for the great crime of maybe being annoying as I made my little jokes and shared my thoughts has a bad fucking life. fuck you. learn how to use the block button.) but @utilitycaster who has been following this campaign as well as other actual play shows a lot more closely than I have already touched on that in a pretty dead-on post that I highly recommend.

so here is what I will end on, the phenomenon I've been describing throughout this post is in no uncertain terms, a form of bigotry, and as far as the people who have to live with that oppression are concerned, a queer bigot is not any less harmful than a straight bigot, in the same way a female bigot is not any less harmful than a male bigot. so if you sincerely want to your spaces to be more inclusive and aren't just saying that to "do a leftism," you have to accept your own part in that, regardless of who you are. you have to stop and pay attention to what kind of perspectives you might be ignoring, and stop immediately shouting at people because you interpreted what they said in bad faith. you have to learn how to just shut up sometimes and be a little reflective. i'm not always great at that, but it's a skill you have to practice even if you fuck up. you can always change your mind with new information and new ideas and new perspectives, but if you instinctively chase off everyone who might be willing to talk about something you've never considered before because you're more concerned about being right than learning, you're going to get a rot in your community that is really hard to get rid of once it festers enough. because if you've been told your whole life that the rot is the default and that it is normal and that it's the way it should be, you're never going to notice it's even there.

tbh the Critical Role fandom, along with most fandoms, has a problem with centering easily digestible metaphors for white queer experiences (and even then only those that check all the boxes of the purity list) at the cost of seeing stories through the lens of race, class, mental and physical disabilities and how those can intersect with queer experiences.

for example, putting an unnecessary amount of effort into proving Jester's attraction to Fjord is compulsory heterosexuality while ignoring that Fjord and Jester were both explicitly biracial characters from different class backgrounds and how that class difference intersected with their self image. a general refusal to really interact with Chetney as a character that is heavily coded as mentally ill and uninterested in being "cured." Veth being deemed the token straight Karen despite being a young rural mother of color struggling with addiction and having an arc that was heavily coded as trans, and Ashton, a nonbinary lower class punk with chronic pain, being considered just a man when it comes to ship wars. etc, etc.

[konjiang]

Cumplane Library au

Sy was in the Library studying when he saw that PIDW just had a new update, he almost couldn't contain himself and started fuming from anger. Thankful no one else beside the library staff was here right now.

He quickly craft up the most vile and disrespectful review post, and hit send before anyone else even left a comment. Some may say his dedication to hating on Airplane was obsessive and unhealthy, but his hands shake with fury every time he read a new chapter. If he didn't do something, he would probably get sick from the repressed feeling.

After spurring out all his hatred towards Airplane in the post, he resumed studying for his class. Right when he was about to put in his earbuds and to start playing some lofi, he heard a quiet chuckle from behind him. The quiet library staff was staring at him and trying to hide his laughter.

The burning in his face was sure to set the library on fire with how hot he felt. He couldn't believe that someone witness him in his lowest form. He quickly got up and packed his laptop away, planning on dying from embarrassment in the safety of his room.

'This is all that fucking dumb hack author's fault!' He practically ran to the door, but the door wouldn't open now matter how he pulled or pushed. He had no choice to turn around and pretend like nothing happened.

He tried to nonchalantly go back to his seat, but a pair of brown eyes followed his movement. When he crossed over the front desk, the guy abruptly stand up and smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you like that. It was that you were so funny getting mad at the novel you were reading." He had brown curly hair, dimples on both side of his face, a ponytail, and a innocent looking face. Sy thought that this guy looked exactly like what he thought LBH looked like.

"That door is currently shut because of construction. A lot of people have been trying to open it all day, but they never read the sign I put up." the LBH lookalike sighed, and SY turned his head and saw that there was indeed a piece of paper tape to the door, but in his flustered state, he couldn't bother to read it.

"Oh. Thanks..." Sy mumbled out, this day was getting worse by the second.

"What were you reading?" the innocent looking guy asked. Sy couldn't tell him, he couldn't be the one to ruin this guy's innocent.

"Just some webnovel." SY deflected, wanting this conversation to end already.

"Oh really?" They guy bounced a bit as he leaned forward causing his ponytail to sway slightly, "I like web novels too, which one were you reading?" SY stared at the guy's doe eyes, noting that he was definitely not as tall as LBH, since he was shorter than SY.

'He would look great cosplaying white lotus LBH.' Sy thought, but he didn't want to entertain that idea at all because his brain kindly provided him with all the sex scenes from varies chapters of PIDW.

"It's not really popular, so I don't think you'll like it." Sy stood there in agony when the cute guy looked at him disappointedly.

"Oh...okay. Sorry for bothering you."

'Fuck! Why can't god just strike me down right now.' Sy impulsively ripped out a piece of paper from his binder and wrote down his number.

"Here, I can recommend you some better novel. Just text me your preferences." Sy said coldly, trying to regain his composure.

"Really? Thank you!" The guy excitedly whispered as a group of student walked in. Sy took this chance to blend in with the crowd and leave when the guy was preoccupied with others.

'Ah fuck. If I ever met that dumbass author. I'm beating the shit out of him.'

--

As a university library worker, he seen a lot of things throughout his shifts. But he would never expect to find Peerless Cucumber reading the latest chapter in the library. Is it shame on him for posting it when he was working or shame on Cucumber for reading it in a public place.

He type in the phone number and saved it in his phone. His shift was about to end and he could fully plan out how to mess with Cucumber afterwards.

"Luo Binghe, you're free to go."

"Thanks" Luo Binghe, or more infamously known as Airplane, skipped out of the library while humming to himself.

[lucysarah-c]

I'll just say, I may be here posting about Mounting Spring, asks etc... But I'm cooking... I'm cooking something everyone asked me for lol

“I like this! This 3D flower pattern is so on trend right now.”

Levi’s eyes were glued to the screen as a freshly painted nail was shown up close.

“Oh, hi! Thank you,” her voice popped up again, and like an animal in pure confusion, he tilted his head to the side.

What are those things popping up? He was completely lost.

“Isn’t it too late for coffee?” she read aloud before grabbing her cup and taking a sip from the straw. “There’s no such thing as too much black or too late for coffee. Plus, it’s girls’ night! What’s a girls’ night without iced coffee or a glass of wine?”

This feels wrong now, Levi thought, taking a sip of his own drink, lazily sprawled on his bed. But when she started showing off her pajamas, that’s when he lost it.

Holy shit... it’s the little shorts doing it for me.

“This is why kids these days have their eyes glued to this shit,” he muttered, almost offended— as if his own mouth wasn’t slightly open and his eyes weren’t stuck to the screen as she vibed to the song playing in the background.

“Have you ever tried… this one?” She winked at the camera, arm in the air, hips moving in a way that Levi quickly guessed was meant to simulate riding. Over the kitchen island.

…I’m definitely not better than a 12-year-old boy.

The chat flooded with messages about how much they loved the song.

Whose song is this?

“Oh! I love that! Ugh, my heart is divided, I want all of them to win! Birds of a Feather is so good, but Hot to Go?” she gushed, listing more names Levi didn’t recognize.

Who are those?

“And the dance?”

What trend? What song? What dance?

Levi felt lost. Completely lost.

“Oh, thank you for the donation! Here, a heart for you!”

She pressed two fingers together in the shape of a heart. Levi tilted his head again, frowning.

How the hell is that a heart?

But before he could keep questioning his entire existence—or, perhaps, his age—her expression shifted. The usual bright smile faded as she read something from the chat.

“Look, if you’ve got a problem with me, just keep scrolling, buddy. Can an admin ban him from the stream, please?”

That made Levi do the exact opposite. He scrolled up through the rapidly moving chat until he found the comment in question. Some idiot had said she owed it to him if something happened because of what she was wearing and doing on screen.

“What’s your fucking problem, dude?” Levi whispered, clicking his tongue. “If a woman has never even touched you, don’t say it so loudly.”

His fingers moved on their own, pressing the guy’s username, looking for a way to reply—until he suddenly let the phone drop onto his chest and stared at the ceiling.

“I need to calm down,” he muttered. Being in this live stream was already too much for him. Getting into an online argument was not the way to go.

How long had he been watching? He wasn’t sure. But in that time, he’d learned that ASMR meant tapping on objects with freshly done nails and whispering, that people voted on live which designs she should do next, and… a whole lot more.

“Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know. That’s me, espresso…”

She sang along to the music, and he felt hypnotized.

“…Did I just spend two hours of my life on this?”

The “Love ya!” came through the speakers as she blew a final kiss before ending the live.

“For fuck’s sake…” Levi muttered, almost offended. “You can’t be that stupidly cute.”

Maybe pop songs were popular for a reason. Maybe that’s why Levi never downloaded any apps on his phone or used it for anything beyond strictly necessary texts. Because explain to him why the hell he was humming at work.

“Since when do you know Sabrina Carpenter?”

Hange appeared out of nowhere, catching him off guard.

Levi had to come up with an excuse. Fast.

“What? Is it illegal for me to know new songs?”

“No…” Hange dragged the word out, squinting at him in suspicion. “But since when do you?”

“Give me a break. I’m not that old. I can get to know new artists,” he brushed it off while brewing himself a tea.

Hange let it slide, but their mind was already working, scheming. They kept talking, mostly about work. But as Levi finished his tea and was ready to leave, Hange casually dropped:

“Espresso?”

Levi frowned. “What?”

Hange repeated the question immediately, as if he hadn’t heard them the first time. But of course, he had.

“Fuck no. You know I hate coffee. Black tea,” he grumbled.

To his shock, Hange chuckled, shaking their head, biting their lip as they held back a knowing smile.

“Aww, Shortie… don’t give yourself away.”

“Huh?”

“Espresso. That’s the song you were humming.” Their grin widened. “I’m starting to think you’re not just listening to new artists—you’re watching new people.”

Levi stiffened.

And for the first time, he couldn’t hide the subtle embarrassed blush creeping up his face.

“Get off my ass,” he muttered, already walking away.

But Hange wasn’t done.

“And I think it might be Erwin’s cute little influencer friend!”

I won't say anything else, let the readers figure it out.

[sanguinesky-if]

[Dev Log] February 2025

Hello, I hope your winter days are going well!

This is the first dev log of 2025, which means the end of my January break and the resumption of:

▹ Patreon billing and monthly activity. ▹ Monthly dev logs.

Although I took things easier in January, I still worked on the story and have quite a bit to share about my progress.

What was done last month?

▹ Worked on the draft for Chapter 3 Pt. 2.

Since shifting the story format from a visual novel to IF, my draft has required some changes and updates. There are some scenes I'd like to include from the old version, but I hesitate due to the potential increase in workload [I discussed them on Patreon]. Even without those additions, Chapter 3 Pt. 2 is shaping up to be massive, and I already can tell it shouldn't be expected until late spring [assuming I decide against including those moments and scenes]. As usual, the most recent updates on my progress will be shared weekly on Patreon and monthly in the dev logs here on my blog.

▹ Refined stats and their distribution.

I began refining the stats distribution in December, but I also made some changes throughout January. Overall, the full list of changes includes: ▹ Refinement and redistribution of personal and hidden stats. ▹ Renaming the "Approval" stat to "Alignment" [this change will apply in the next update]. I'd like to thank this anon for the idea; I should have done it sooner. A few more words about the stats: Something about the personal stats feels… lacking. I can't quite pinpoint what it is, but I have a feeling I need to progress the story further to understand what's missing, so for now, I've decided to focus on Chapter 3 Pt. 2.

▹ Finished the shortcut to Chapter 3 Pt. 2.

I decided to take care of the shortcut feature in advance, and it took me some time to compile all the choices due to the variations readers can encounter in different scenes. While I may return to it later if I decide that some choices from Chapter 3 Pt. 1 should be included, I'm glad I finished adding all the essential parts.

▹ Improved some scenes and fixed numerous grammatical errors, as well as a few coding issues.

Here's a list of major changes: ▹ L's phone call scene [Chapter 2]: Added a reserved flirt option and made the non-romantic option available to everyone [these changes will apply in the next update].

▹ K's morning scene [Chapter 3]: The last assertive flirt option in K's scene no longer includes "I forgive you", so the reader is not forced to immediately let go of all the tension when choosing a flirt option. Small note: I have some reservations regarding the choices provided in K's scene after their apology, so I will likely post a poll on Patreon to gather feedback on this matter.

▹ Solo morning scene [Chapter 3]: Due to an oversight, the solo scene didn't include a variation where the reader decides not to talk to the MC's twin sister and immediately goes to sleep. This variation of the scene has now been added.

What will I be working on in February?

▹ Chapter 3 Pt. 2: translating the draft and outlining the files for coding.

In addition to that, the bonus content on Patreon that will be released this month will include:

▹ Morgan's NSFW Alphabet. ▹ K's NSFW Side Story POV [Interactive].

Author's note.

I'd like to extend my gratitude to everyone who took the time to send helpful error reports, asks, and kind messages! Your support and interest help me improve my story, which truly means a lot to me.

Thank you for reading to the end! Wishing you a wonderful week and days after that! ♥

[kitsunexgari]

Summary: Byung-hun comes in for a photoshoot where you are working as an assistant. The head photographer is running pretty late and asks you to keep him busy. You soon find out he can't keep his hands off of you. Tags: Public Sex, Fantasy, Mild Exhibitionism, Light Dominance, Some Dirty talk Disclaimer: This is not meant to depict real people, places, or events. Story contains adult themes and all participants in these activities are of legal adult ages. Story content is not suitable for minors. Read with caution.

You have not been an assistant for long but even so, the job is very tiring. Rewarding but tiring. Initially, you thought that maybe you would be more involved with the process of taking photos. Actually taking them. Instead, you work for a pretty nightmarish and controlling witch who has to have everything just right in order to shoot a set of photos. Still, she is one of the best in the business. Clients of all walks of life, including celebrities, are constantly coming through the studio. You know that you can make some important contacts here and learn more skills to build a great reputation of your own. You learn to work with it because you know it will work better for you in the long run. 

One day she is running late. She calls you to tell you that you are going to have to take care of her next client for an hour or so because there is heavy traffic on the way back from her location shoot which she didn't take you on. You don't get to go on many of those because she always wants someone in the studio just in case. It's not too bad as it gives you time to practice your own work and take care of other things that need to get done. You assure her that the client will be well handled and there is nothing to worry about. You have done this many times before, after all. Just as you are hanging up, he walks into the studio and looks right at you. 

You hadn't had time to check the books to see the name of the client coming in and you didn't expect it to be him of all people. Someone that you have spent more hours fantasizing about than you ever want to admit. Byung-Hun. You already feel a blush rise up on your cheeks as he approaches your desk. 

"Good afternoon, sir." You say softly, unable to look directly at him. 

"I'm here to see Anastasia." 

"Yes, she's running a bit late. There was an accident and some traffic but I can take care of you until then. If you don't mind waiting." You tell him quickly, "Can I get you a drink?" 

"Sure, I have some time," He says going to take a seat on the couch, "Just a bottle of water or whatever is easiest." You nod and walk across the room to grab one of the bottles chilling in the fridge then come back to him and hold it out slowly. He takes it from you with a very charming smile and you hurry back to your desk trying your hardest not to stare at him. You sit behind your computer and try to look busy but you are worried about him getting bored with waiting. Anastasia doesn't like angry clients. She says that gives them a bad aura when she's trying to shoot. 

"I am sorry about this, it's not typical for her." You try to assure him. 

"It's fine, really, not in a hurry today." He says and glances at the TV that is on the wall in the waiting area. 

"The remote is, over there." You tell him and motion to where it is sitting on the table by the couch where he is. "At least it will give you something to do, right?" 

"Thanks." He says and picks it up. Since you don't have any clue what to actually talk to him about and fear you may say something very stupid if you have to keep talking to him, you attempt to focus on other work you have to do. Forms you need to fill out and clients that you have to email. 

You can't focus. Not only is he right there on the couch in front of you, you can smell him. It's intoxicating. You find yourself staring in his direction periodically before forcing yourself to look away. That is until the moment he catches you doing it. You panic and quickly look back down at your keyboard but he gets up and walks over to the desk, placing his hands on it, tapping his fingers lightly over the top of the wood. 

"I know that look," he says. 

"What look? I was just checking to make sure you were comfortable, sir." You say, unable to look at him once more. 

"Come on," He says, "You think I don't get that look a thousand times a day? I know what it means...I just usually don't get it from girls as cute as you." You are surprised to hear that and look up at him in shock. He thinks you're cute? Why is his voice so low and sensual? You lick your lips as suddenly your mouth has gone dry even if other places have become much wetter. 

"Cute?" You manage to choke out. 

"Oh yeah," He says and leans in to stroke your cheek, running a thumb over your lips softly, "Why keep fantasizing about it when you have the real thing right here in front of you?" All you are able to do is let out a soft squeak because you can't believe this is really happening. Can it be? You have to be dreaming again. That or the stress of this job has caused you to go completely insane but, does that matter right now? You aren't sure that you care. 

"You're serious?" You ask him. 

"Very serious, been awhile for me too...get so busy and lonely. This life isn't all it's cracked up to be and didn't you say she's running late?" He asks. 

"Yes but," 

"Shhh," He presses a finger over your lips gently and you go silent. You have no desire to contradict him and you are supposed to take care of as well as entertain the clients right? It would be bad for business if they got bored and left. "Stand up, come on." You nod stupidly and get to your feet. He looks you over before stepping around the desk and pulling you towards him. With a hungry glint in his eyes he captures your mouth in a kiss. His lips are much more soft and perfect than you could have ever dreamed of. 

When he pulls back you just stand there, staring at him breathlessly. He quickly shoves a few things off of your desk, grabs you by the hips and bends you over it. His hands run over your back to your skirt which he shoves up over your ass, gives it a nice firm slap with his hand causing you to yelp. His hand moves over the back of your thighs and between your legs. You mewl softly, when you feel his fingers on the crotch of your already soaked panties as he starts to tease you with those perfect fingers. 

"You really do want this, don't you?" He leans down to purr in your ear. 

"More than anything..." You gasp. He chuckles softly and slides your panties down, pressing your head to the desk as he unzips his pants. You can hear it but can't quite see what he's doing. Not that it matters, you wouldn't even care if you were blind folded. He moves in closer, you can feel him teasing your opening with his cock, which only gets you to moan, then whine, before he thrusts in. Firmly yet some how still very gentle. You groan and close your eyes as he starts to to move. Each time he thrusts he gets in a bit deeper. One hand holds your hair tightly, the other grasps your hip, enough that you are sure his fingers will leave bruises on your skin but you welcome that more than anything. 

"Like this?" He purrs breathlessly as he moves. He's good at this, far more than you could have dreamed up yourself. Even your own fantasies aren't this good. You close your eyes and moan again. 

"Yes...harder....please?" You beg. He starts to speed up, seemingly hitting every right place inside of you. Pleasuring nerves you weren't even sure you had. You hear him moan and a shiver runs through you, he starts to work his hips faster. You rock back towards him as the intensity rises. The heat inside of you, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the waiting room as he fucks you nice and hard. 

"Are you close? Huh? Going to cum all over my cock like a good girl?" He breathes. 

"Y-Yes...fuck...please let me cum!" You cry, wanting nothing more than that. He starts to pound into you at a feverish pace until you hit your climax and cry out. Your cunt clenching around his cock as you hear him groan loudly, one last time, as he cums too. His motions erratic, kind of jerky, he all but collapses on you, breathing down your neck as he licks and kisses at the skin there for a moment before pulling back. You feel him slip out of you and whine. You know you're going to miss that and it will be hard for anyone to top ever again. 

By the time you recover so you can grab your panties and make yourself decent again, he's already headed back to the couch. A grin on his face as he sits down and grabs his water bottle. You look at him bashfully as he takes a sip. Then you clear your throat, knowing that you are going to have to excuse yourself to get cleaned up. 

"I uh...should get cleaned up." You tell him sheepishly. 

"Alright," He says, "But don't stray too far, might have to go for round two if Anastasia keeps me waiting any longer." 

[messrsrarchives]

Hi Robyn. I appreciate you taking the time to always articulate your thoughts on Rowling and topics like that. I was wondering if you have thoughts on this or an answer to this question:

In a recent post you said things like "there's no ethical way to engage" and that you're trying to do "the least amount of harm possible." A few years ago, I believed these things very literally and believed it was completely immoral to engage in HP at all or engage in the fandom at all, and therefore I did not. Now obviously my beliefs have changed and I no longer believe it's so immoral I can't interact with it, and obviously neither do you or any of the rest of us. Are you able to articulate why? If there's no ethical way to engage, how do you justify being in the fandom? If you're trying to do the least amount of harm possible, do you believe you're still doing harm by being in the fandom and how do you justify that? If this is all inherently unethical and harmful, why are we doing it? How is it morally justifiable to be in the HP fandom at all, to post about it and therefore "promote" it? How do you justify to yourself being in the fandom?

I don't know the answer to that, and since you're someone who often has thoughts on this sort of subject I hope you are able to articulate this in some way that makes sense. I know it's a big question that may not even really have an answer, but I would like to know your thoughts or feelings about it if you'd like to answer.

Secondly, have you ever written up one single list along the lines of "things I believe we should not do"? Like listing it all out in one post: don't watch the hbo show even if you have a subscription, don't post about the show, don't comment on fancasts' posts, don't spend money on merch, don't post merch even if you didn't pay for it, and so on.

Thank you so much <3

HIII !!! always here to yap about these things <33 this is going to be so long i'm sorry !

i think one of my pinned videos on tiktok talks about guilt. there's so much guilt for engaging here and i know that i'm not the only one who, not only feels that, but feels as though it's a lot heavier recently. regardless of how you're engaging, we're promoting her universe and we are complicit, and there's so much guilt that comes with that.

but i think sometimes guilt is useful. i think there's a certain amount of guilt in this scenario that,,, i don't know? makes you better?? i think if you feel a bit guilty for being here, then you're aware and you're more likely to be conscious about your engagement. i think if you're not feeling at least the slightest bit guilty for being here, chances are you're unaware about the effects (whether direct or not) and you're too comfortable. we see a lot of people say "well i'm queer she hates me anyway" or "well i read stories she would hate" or "this fandom is everything she hates" etc etc as if our mere existence here is,,, an act of protest? but i don't see it as that. i don't see me engaging here as an act of protest, i see everything else as one.

and i guess that's why i came back to these spaces. i was told about ATYD by a friend and i already knew the basics about JKR, so my first action was to reread the books for the first time in years and try to see if anything read differently - a lot more stood out because i was more aware, and i spent a solid two weeks just doing research and thinking "okay, if i go into this, what do i need to do?"

at that point, all i thought i had to do was boycott and not put the same ideals into fanfiction, but it's a lot more intense than that. there's the risk of promoting a fic of someone who doesn't stand with us, or of commenting on something in a promoting way, or of showing off old merch and not specifying etc etc - there's a lottt of hidden ways we promote her without realising. that's also why i don't tend to talk About the books unless i'm recalling canon information for a plotline. or the movies unless i'm doing the same.

i think where you say "how do you justify being in the fandom" the most important word there for me is You.

there's the basics, of course: don't profit her, don't post things that profit her, don't perpetuate her ideals, don't promote harry potter in random comment sections, don't talk about the reboot even if you aren't watching it etc etc.

and then everything else is You. once you've got the basics of ethical (as much as possible) engagement, the justification part comes down to you personally. what do you need to do? what will make it feel safer for you? what will make you feel more comfortable? what balances it out for You?

for me, that's talking about it. and it comes off very lecture-like and like i'm scolding people and on one hand,, yes. it's a lecture, it's education, it's demonstrating what to do. but on the other, it's for me? it's for Me. and for Me to justify being in this space, it's to be loud and vocal. i've always said not everyone needs to be loud about it! i think forced activism is harmful but for Me personally? it's the talking about it that justifies it. for every negative comment that i get, i get 10 people that didn't realise the impact. for every person that says "this is such a non-issue" i get a DM from someone else asking more questions or thanking me for talking about it.

for every person in the fandom that doesn't value trans lives and lets me know that, i get 10 trans people who thank me for being loud about it.

and i think that's it for me. formulating a safe bubble for me and everyone else that has been harmed feels like justification. i won't ever be able to change her views or make a mass change, i'm just one guy without much to offer, but i can get one dm from a trans person who is glad to have found a space and,,, yeah. i can make A difference. i'm glad.

and then that all comes together when it comes to me posting. posting even fics is promoting her but i like to think (maybe potentially ignorantly, i'm not sure) that if someone new(er) to the fandom fics a video i've made on the fyp and they want to know more, they'd swipe across to my account, hypothetically. and then they'd find the jkr playlist, they'd find the pinned videos, they'd find the yap playlist and the jkr powerpoint etc etc, and i - definitely ignorantly - like to think that it balances out somewhere. maybe. hopefully. it definitely does more than just posting about the fandom/studios/merch on something like tiktok with an incrediblyyyy loose algorithm and not mentioning anything at all.

it's a hard balance. it's a hard balance of wanting to educate but not wanting to come off kind of,,, like superior? dictorial? placing myself above everyone? but also not wanting to sit back. and i don't think i've found that balance yet, but that's okay! it's all a curve.

for someone else it could be that they add the disclaimers to their fics and don't talk about it publicly often. like here on tumblr is very different to over on tiktok, and i'm sure justification works different on a systemic level here than there. or for someone else it could be that they simply read someone else's talks about it and try to adapt. it could be anything really, it's so individual!

you can justify it however you need to, as long as you have the basics down and you're not causing harm. as long as your justification isn't rooted in assauging your guilt (by that i mean for example, "im queer and jkr hates me anyway so i'll go the studios in protest" because that causes harm)

but at the end of the day i think it comes down to not letting TERFs win. at the end of the day i think we all justify it by not letting them take away another thing we love, even if it's something as silly as a magical universe. it means a lot to us, we aren't going to give it up for someone like her.

so we make a change. we don't separate art from artist, that causes harm. we don't call it reclaiming, you can't reclaim IP of someone still living and profiting.

but we can claim a bubble within it, and we can surround ourselves with people that get it and some of us will step out of the bubble and try to get more people to join us, others will be happy just staying in there and enjoying their time, and we all just get to Breathe.

i don't know. this is long and rambly and i don't think i'll ever justify it fully. i think i'll always feel guilty and i'll always talk about it and i think i'll always have moments where i wonder if maybe i am doing more harm, or times where i feel like i'm screaming myself hoarse and people don't seem to get it but,,, i also have 20,000 people that i didn't have before. and lifelong friends. and communication skills i didn't have, and a rekindled love for something that dominated my childhood.

and i feel good, i think. about the way i've gone about it. i think the version of me that bought crusty and dusty falling to pieces books off of etsy and sat there highlighting things would be proud that this is the way we take it, and i think the 15 year old version of me that realised he was trans and threw everything away would be proud too.

and i think that's how i justify it.

am i making myself proud with this? am i proud of how i went about this, and will i be proud when everything unfolds and we see the harm reach it's peak? will i be proud of what i did to Try?

and i think that's the big question to be asking ourselves.

(and in terms of one post, i have a PDF powerpoint here that explains a Bit, but - not to just promote myself lmao but who's reading all of this actually - i will be releasing three episodes of my podcast this week ALLL about jkr! (1) things in the books (2) twitter, political action, robert galbraith books and (3) fandom responsibility - and that third one will contain everything. for now at least. it's constantly changing but for now, it will include everything we need to do to keep this space safe and comfortable and as ethical as possible)

[mj-iza-writer]

This is another Russian character story. I am attempting to learn as much of the language as I can. I am also working on something within the SP Special Containment storyline. So this is some much needed practice. -MJ

Whumpee shyly stood outside of Caretaker's office.

They practiced what they were going to ask for internally. They gulped nervously.

"Hello Whumpee", Caretaker had turned already, they reached for their communication tablet to help translate.

Whumpee fidgetted with their fingers awkwardly as they watched the screen turn on.

Caretaker smiled as Whumpee typed what they needed.

"Простите за беспокойство (I'm sorry to bother you)", the computer spoke for Whumpee.

Caretaker smiled, "you're no bother."

"Ты не беспокоишьсг", Whumpee listened to the computer as it spoke what Caretaker had said, Я могу вам помочь?" (can I help you?)

"Можно мне воды?" (May I have water?), Whumpee looked at Caretaker wishfully, "пожалуйста" (please).

Caretaker quickly nodded and stood, "yes, you absolutely can."

Whumpee quickly followed, they fumbled with the communication tablet for a moment before Caretaker realized and took it.

"Izvini" (Извини, sorry), Caretaker sighed. Something they had gotten use to saying to Whumpee.

Whumpee had come from a rescue situation about a month ago. Caretaker was trying to make do with the communication board and other techniques for communication. The language barrier was making it very difficult for both of them.

Caretaker could tell Whumpee appreciated the care they were receiving, but they often felt that they were not giving adequate care to Whumpee. Whumpee was very quiet. Too afraid to ask or bother anyone.

"Would you like a snack? (Хотите перекусить?), Caretaker watched as Whumpee thirstedly sucked down the water.

Whumpee gasped for breath for a moment before nodding, "please", Whumpee whispered.

Caretaker smiled. Once in a while, Whumpee would be able to say a word in English.

Caretaker set a few snack items out for Whumpee to pick what they wanted. They also had pre-written note cards for needs.

They set out a few food related request: "I would like to eat" (Я хотел бы съесть). Breakfast (завтрак), lunch (обед), dinner (ужин), or a meal (еда).

Whumpee smiled widely as they reached for the bars they lovingly called "Syrok".

Caretaker had ordered a shipment of Russian goodies when Whumpee first came into the home. That way Whumpee could have some home comforts to help their recovery.

"It gives them some sense of normalcy", Caretaker told a friend of there's after being questioned about the necessity of ordering international food, "we don't even know what they've gone through yet. They are now in a stranger's house. The last stranger they knew hurt them. This stranger", Caretaker pointed to themself, "doesn't speak their language either. They are living through a strange situation. If I can give them a little comfort, even if it is just food and a few things from their home country... I'm gonna do it."

Whumpee happily chews on their snack.

"Thankyou", they whisper as they watch Caretaker refill their water.

"You're welcome", Caretaker smiles as they sit down at the table, "I'm glad you're here."

Whumpee cocked their head to the side questioningly, then went back to their snack.

Caretaker smiled as they cleaned up the cards from the table.

'I know that you are uncertain of so many things right now. I hope I'm able to settle at least some of your nerves', Caretaker thought to themself, 'you deserve that.'

Ps. I wrote this after 10 pm, while making and eating dinner. I had an itch to write. Of course, halfway though, I got sleepy, which is why this is an extra short story. It is now after 11:30. Mj is sleepy. If you see any mistakes in my English or Russian, please kindly ignore... I'm kidding, I'll fix the mistakes if needed. Just not now... almost sleepy time. Thankyou for reading. You all are awesome. Mj 😴

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

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[retro-friki]

Commenced my 5th (??) Utena rewatch, so here’s some comments of episode 1 with vague spoilers:

*My blue ray disc seems to be damaged :( the episode froze at certain scenes, I hope it’s only dirty or something.

*First few minutes of ep 1 is gender, gender, gender. “The little girl wanted to be a prince” “I’m waiting for my boyfriend” “She left”, “Why are you wearing a boys uniform?”. Utena beats all the guys and has fangirls, yet she refuses to join the basketball team with the dudes, however she wants to be a prince… She keeps breaking with everyone’s expectations of her. (Personally I think that Utena is either a gnc woman, non-binary or even genderfluid, but everyone can have whatever headcanon they want).

*I have always wondered how long has Utena been at Ohtori. The teacher says that Utena will ridicule her again this term, but most of the time she acts like a newcomer. There are many things about the students that she seems to ignore. I think that she transferred just at the middle or the end of the previous term, so she has been there for enough time to be popular among peers her age, but not enough for her to know everything.

*Touga is so popular that even Utena knows him. That says a lot about Touga.

*I like how the animators use black silhouettes to economize. It’s a cool trick and it contributes to the show’s general aesthetic.

*I’m not in the mood of being cynical right now so I’m just going to say that I love how Utena jumps in to help whoever she thinks is in trouble. Of course that’s also one of her flaws and it becomes a problem because she doesn’t think before acting, but her intentions are sincere, and that’s what makes her different from everyone else.

*In the same vein, it probably doesn’t matter whether Anthy was the one who put Wakaba’s letter on the wall or not. She may have done some manipulation, but the thing is that Saionji was such a huge asshole already that sooner or later Utena would’ve had a bone to pick with him. He was the one who threw the letter away in the first place and it was his choice to hit Anthy when she wished Utena luck. There was very little manipulation to be done here. He caused his own downfall.

*It’s always hard to read the lyrics of the duel songs and the dialogue at the same time, but there’s some juxtapositions that I liked, namely how the lyrics equated Utena and Saionji as actors on a stage. There’s a lot to say about that, but that’s something I’ll have to dig more into some other day.

[serickswrites]

Eyes Like Fire VIII

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Hero was beyond frustrated. Everything they had tried hadn't worked. Everything they had read about had been wrong. With each failed attempt to exorcise Villain, with each failed attempt to banish Villain, Hero grew more and more frustrated.

Villain, however, seemed to enjoy watching Hero try. "Perhaps this next one," they said as they patted the hellhound on the head, "will be the correct one."

"It's useless!" Hero said as they threw their book down. This was so clearly beyond their knowledge that there was no way they would be able to rid themself of Villain without help. And they weren't ready to face the consequences of letting Organization know what they had done.

Villain smiled. "You're trying really hard. You'll get there. And I'll get to go home. We'll get to go home. Won't we?" Villain scratched the hellhound's chin. It wagged its massive tail harder.

"Why can't you just leave? I've ordered you to." Hero collapsed on the couch next to Villain.

"I told you, many times, fair Hero, that for whatever reason I can't. I shall do everything else you order, so long as it's not impossible."

"I thought demons can do anything they wanted."

Villain shook their head. "One: no. Two: some demons are more powerful than others. But if something is impossible, it's impossible."

"That's dumb," Hero said as they watched Villain pet the hellhound.

"That's Hell for you. What should we do with our time now?" Villain turned their fiery gaze to Hero.

Hero let out a sigh. "What do you want to do?"

Villain considered a moment. Hero half expected them to come up with some particularly dastardly plan. They were shocked when Villain looked at them, fiery eyes burning bright, "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Why?" Hero asked skeptically. Surely this was some kind of trap. Villain was a demon after all.

"Because I want to know. I'm bound to you. I may as well find out what you enjoy."

"So you can use it against me?"

Villain shook their head. "You're not going to be able to release me, there's no point in me trying to hurt you."

Hero sighed. "I will keep researching exorcisms."

It was Villain's turn to sigh, their hellhound echoing the sound. "And I will continue to tell you, those won't work on me. I'm not possessing anyone. I built this body myself."

Hero rolled their eyes. Demons lie. Villain was lying. Hero opened the refrigerator as their stomach growled. The hours of trying different exorcisms had worked up an appetite. They groaned. It was empty.

"Come on," Hero said grabbing their keys.

Villain's eyes lit up, if that was possible for them to light up any more than they already did, "Where are we going?"

"To the grocery store. For food. Humans have to eat. You have a human body, it needs fuel, too."

The hellhound gave a small whine. "No, you stay here," Villain said, patting the hound on the head. "And I will see if we can get you something at this 'grocery store'."

"What does it eat, exactly?"

Villain smiled, "Why the souls of the damned of course."

"You know, I think that's a specialty item that my local grocer probably doesn't carry." The souls of the damned. Hero had to get rid of Villain somehow.

"Let's give this one a shot," Hero said a couple of weeks later as they highlighted the spell. They had been trying for weeks at this point. Though, the last couple of attempts were halfhearted at best. Hero found themself growing used to the demon.

They had grown used to the strange, incessant questions. They had grown used to the humming at all hours of the day. They had grown used to the delighted smile Villain gave them each time Hero found something new for villain to try. They hated to admit it, they were growing used to the demon. And the beautiful body it inhabited.

Villain didn't even get off the couch. They stared at Hero, their fiery eyes rolling as they spoke. "I keep telling you, you're wasting your time. Why don't we do something more fun? What shall we do today?"

Hero was beginning to grow used to the flames that made Villain's eyes glow. Hero had taken the last few weeks off work. They had been working more than overtime the last couple of months, they were entitled to a vacation. They just left off the part where the vacation was a staycation so they could figure out how to exorcise the demon they had accidentally bound themself to. Today was their first day back at work. "I just have to wait for my next assignment. I'm sure I'll get one--"

Hero went silent as their phone pinged.

Villain grew excited. "A mission! How exciting! I can help you. And then you can do another. And another! What is our task?"

Hero swallowed. This was not good. "Supervillain has been sighted."

Villain froze. "Not possible. They can't enter this plane of existence."

Hero handed the phone over to Villain. "Well, apparently a lot of things we thought weren't possible, Villain, are. And Supervillain is here."

Villain's face paled. "We have to run. They will destroy everything in their path."

Hero shook their head. "My assignment, Villain," Hero said with a humorless laugh, "is to send Supervillain back to Hell."

Tags: @wankusbonkus @st0rmm @pigeonwhumps @eyehartart

@mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe @pepeniascat

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Gerald Robotnik

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

You may not know this, but Jim Carrey is actually really good at playing villains. Like, it’s a pretty obscure fact about his career. So obscure that despite him playing at least three of the funniest villains I’d ever seen growing up, I completely forgot about them when I did the Psycho Analysis for Ivo Robotnik back when the original Sonic film dropped.

But now I know better. The Grinch, Count Olaf, the Riddler… Carrey is a master of playing cartoonish creeps. And Ivo Robotnik has proved to be the best and most fun of all his villainous roles, evolving beyond the simple yet fun egomaniac scientist of the first film into something that hews far closer to what Sonic fans might expect from the world’s sexiest fat man AKA Dr. Eggman. In fact, Robotnik might be my favorite villain role of his, and one of my favorite villains of all time.

Now what if we doubled that?

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 went bigger and better than its predecessors, and considering it was introducing the most popular character in the Sonic franchise who isn’t the Blue Blur himself—Shadow—it kind of had to. And that meant giving us not one, but two Jim Carrey performances. In this movie, the typically posthumous Gerald Robotnik is alive and well and out to enact some revenge. It’s a pretty bold and different approach to the beloved story of this Sonic adventure… so how does it work out?

Motivation/Goals: Gerald Robotnik is motivated by revenge, much like in the games, though this time he’s around to pursue it himself. After what G.U.N. did to Maria, he wanted to completely dismantle and destroy them. But the thing is, his decades of stewing in his hate and rage made him a little cuckoo, and now his hate extends to not just G.U.N., but the entirety of the human race… as well as himself.

Performance: Jim Carrey had already perfected Ivo over two films, but I think there may have been a little worry he’d make Gerald too similar and ignore what made fans love him in the game. Of course, we needn’t have worried; not only is Gerald a distinct character from his grandson, he still manages to be a truly despicable human being, perhaps more vile than he’s ever been before. He’s still as wacky and ridiculous as Ivo, but unlike with Eggman he manages to drop the silly at just the right moments to make Gerald a genuinely threatening monster.

Final Fate: No firing squad for Gerald this time; no, his ending here is much more undignified, but also incredibly well-deserved and satisfying. After callously trying to send his grandson into the vacuum of space, Ivo surprises the old man with a super-charged Sonic quill into his ass which sends him flying through the air into the chaos energy. He then proceeds to be disintegrate with a little pop like a bug in a zapper.

Now, this may seem incredibly cartoonish and even ridiculous as a way to defeat such a villain… But read the rest of this analysis to see just how disturbingly vile Gerald ends up being. I think this truly absurd and cartoonish death is exactly what the movie needed to do to rerail things and keep it from going way too dark. And, if you think about it, his death is still colossally fucked up, particularly because Tails seems a little too chipper about committing murder.

Evilness: For most of the movie, he seems like he’ll end up being like… a 6 or 7/10, like clearly a bad guy but one with an understandable motive that you can root for. G.U.N. do not come out of this film smelling like roses, and when you see the full extent of what they did to Shadow it’s hard not to root against them.

But then comes the third act. He reveals he wants to kill everyone and himself, he reveals he doesn’t give a shit what Maria would want because he’s so utterly consumed with misanthropy, and he drops the coldest line ever to reject his grandson… Yeah this guy is a 10/10. Maybe even a 10.5/10. He is genuinely fucking callous and vile and monstrous.

Best Scene: Without a doubt it’s the scene where he and Ivo dance through the lasers.

This scene is great for multiple reasons. The most obvious reason is that t’s an amazing example of the movies effects and how well it showcases the dual Jim Carrey performance. Like, this must’ve been a bitch and a half to make look convincing, especially with Ivo picking Gerald up and swinging him around. It’s amazingly well done, the choreography is great, and “Galvanize” by the Chemical Brothers kicks ass.

But it also works as a further highlighting of the character of Ivo, how he’s still desperately cramming in family fun now that he feels he has someone who cares about him… and it also makes the later reveal about Gerald sting all the more.

Best Quote: Remember that line in Frozen where Hans coldly reveals he’s a villain to Anna? Remember how it’s a stupid twist that doesn’t make sense, yet the line is one of the rawest in all of Disney’s canon? Imagine that except the twist actually works and is effective. That’s what Gerald gets:

“Oh, Ivo… You’re no Maria.”

This single line completely recontextualizes everything Gerald has done up until this point. Every single bit of fun and goofiness now comes off as deliberate manipulation of Ivo to help in his schemes. It also highlights just how single-minded and insane he’s become in his pursuit of revenge; here he has a living member of his family, someone who could fill the void Maria left, but he coldly rebuffs them because he is too consumed by his own hate and rage.

Final Thoughts & Score: I fucking love Gerald.

Jim Carrey really went above and beyond here (and considering they sent him the script in gold and let him play with himself on camera, why wouldn’t he?). He manages to make Gerald hilarious and goofy but also perfectly captures his grief, rage, and hatred when the third act hits. And that third act is genuinely impressive even when he gets into a scientifically-enhanced slap fight with his renegade grandson; just his eerily calm statement of his desire to commit murder-suicide with the entirety of the Earth, his callous brushing off of both his grandson and Maria’s desires, his flippant shrugging off of the worth of Shadow’s life when the hedgehog betrays him… It’s honestly shocking just how nasty Jim Carrey manages to be without completely dropping the inherent goofiness he brings to his roles. In fact, his goofiness just makes it more chilling when he drops the act and gets going.

Frankly it’s surprising just how much nuance there is in such a goofy role, how much can be read in to his actions. Like they really didn’t have to put so much work into the silly villain in the second sequel of a video game movie franchise, they could have easily half-assed Gerald or even just had him be posthumous to save themselves a lot of work. But they didn’t do that, they brought him in, managed to flesh him out and give him depth while still keeping him true to the core of the character, and they knocked him out of the park. Of course, Carrey’s amazing dual performance where he goes out of the way to interact with himself is a big plus too. The sheer spectacle is at least 50% of what makes Gerald so fun to watch.

All in all, Gerald is one of the greatest live-action family film antagonists ever seen, and he’s a big part as to why Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is so great. And best of all he continues to show that the human characters related to Eggman are the best in the franchise. Easily a 9.5/10 for me, with the .5 less than his grandson only because we get far less time with him since, you know, he fucking dies at the ends of this one and isn’t going to develop more. But the fact they manage to make him so well-rounded in just a single movie is worth a lot.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

AAAAYYYYE I'M GLAD YOU LIKED IT!

Yeah, since this is only the second time I've really written for Mad (so far this snippet has the most dialogue I've ever given him) I wanted to show something a little more unlikely for him. In the musicals, we've only seen all his bad, angry traits, and while those are still very prevalent here...well, emotions are already hard enough without having screws loose in your head.

I actually took a course on Criminology in college. Even before that, I was always intrigued by the psychological angle of investigative work. (Can't wait to eventually write about all the juicy, dark parts of it sooner or later...) Learning about the Bystander Effect was genuinely chilling for me. Especially since I often go out of my way to avoid confrontation. It can be both depressing and enlightening to compare that stuff to your own behavior.

Well, Casey literally just can't afford to buy Mad's claims. Even if he has a good read on how delusional he can be, there's just no coming back from all the shit Mad's done. As thoroughly performed and cool of a character Mad is, he's still completely irredeemable.

Of course I mentioned the pocket watch comic! You did such a great job with it! I'm excited to see what else you add to that part of the lore!

Yeeeaaah, no matter how clumsy he can be, Casey's got the skills and smarts! I really, really wanted to make it clear that I wasn't using him as comic relief or a helpless victim. Bro deserves better than that.

Lol, we've all seen Mad's ego. It can be pretty dangerous to set off, but it can also work as leverage against him.

Hey, listen, Azalea knows how to swallow her pride to get a job done, okay? She's efficient like that. (Also, since you bring it up: Caliban is one of very, very few people who are allowed to tease about her height, since she knows it's not out of malice. But if an enemy were to make short jokes around her...HOO BOY, it would NOT be pretty.P)

To clarify, Casey was hiding in the closet like that as a way to trick Mad. He knew he couldn't realistically get away if Mad was still in the house, so he planned to make Mad think he did. Then, after Mad rushed out to look for him, Casey would try to sneak out for real. Too bad that plan didn't really go anywhere, lmao.

(And as for Cal's little moment...keep that in mind. I may or may not try to write a little flashback scene of my own sometime in the future...😈 We hurt our characters because we love them, right??)

I really wanted to go for something that felt both childlike and unsettling. That's how irl criminals like Mad work a lot of the time; they make up stories about the people around them in their heads, and when those people inevitably don't still to said story, the aggressor thinks they have an excuse to flip out.

Sure, K.O. is shorter than Casey, but that doesn't change the fact that he's a defacto strong boi! His career is all about knowing how to throw a punch, after all...

HAHAHAHA YES MORE BADASS-PROTECTIVE MOMENTS FOR AZA!

Lmao that chair-attack was an EXACT reference to FNAF: TM! I think I re-watched that blooper like six times 🤣 Physics pale before MatPat's acting skills!

The tuna melt insult was actually inspired by that CHUCKY series from a few years ago (iykyk). I really liked it; it was one of the few times I got entertainment from someplace other than YouTube.

Don't worry; you will most certainly see more of both Phoenix and K.O. in the next snippet! Until then, I eagerly (but also patiently, because Self-Care is important. No rush at all, friendo) await your next comic!

You changed,

You haven’t

A follow up to our lovely collab with @wouldntyou-liketoknow, this is more of a flashback to kinda get into the relationship between Casey and Mad through Mad’s eyes. It may never erase what he’s done, but it may show a glimpse as to why he can’t seem to let Casey go.

Has always been, and always will be known as a monster, yet one soul decided to take a chance, to hold his hand and make him feel something more than just a monster. He was more in that person’s eyes, and he never wanted to let go of that feeling. The simple single touch of another who never views him as nothing more than a…

Shame he no longer can feel the touch.

@crazy-obsessed-enby @iswmperson @lexusinsannus @sammys-magical-au @wouldntyou-liketoknow @the-matpat-ever

He can only dream.

[demonslayedher]

I finished posting the unabashedly educational Sword Fic.

It includes a detailed (but hopefully beginner-friendly) explanation of all the steps of making a Nichirin blade from a sunny mountain like Mt. Youkou, a touch of swordsmith and metalworker folk lore (including demons), meta about what must make Kimetsu no Yaiba's swordsmithing methods different from real life methods, some character exploration for Haganezuka and his polishing method, vocabulary and additional resources in the chapter notes, and hopefully, an endearing, silly POV character to learn this all through.