#that the ‘care’ literally does not exist

[p0orbaby]

Double Exposure

sunmary: you want to go topless, alexia isn’t too pleased

warnings: mentions of smut, some vulgar language

a/n: okay a bit of context; rich!alexia inspired by that pic she posted looking hot all in black. reader was her sugar baby before things got serious and they fell in love. sugar baby = bad for image so reader was kept secret up until now. this is their honeymoon. *and breathe*

word count: 2.2k

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“You’re not seriously going out there like that?”

Her words flat. Almost bored. Which is rich, coming from a woman who—barely ten minutes ago—was on her knees between your legs, growling into your cunt like it owed her rent and a written apology. Her voice now is the exact opposite of how it sounded then: cool, clipped, almost affronted. Like you’ve just told her you prefer supermarket olive oil. Like she doesn’t still have your taste on her mouth, drying into the fine creases of her lips, sunk into the seam where her teeth pressed down too hard on your inner thigh. Like her face wasn’t, moments ago, framed by your knees.

There’s a bruise on your hip in the exact shape of her thumb, planted like a signature. Another on the inside of your arm—darker, more controlled. Intentional. Just about composed, like something framed and hung under a spotlight. Your ribs ache faintly from where her elbows braced, sharp and functional, digging in as if she was preparing to split you apart. You haven’t seen your reflection yet, but you don’t need to. You already know what you must look like: mouth swollen and slightly parted, ribs flushed with heat, nipples still tight from her teeth and the blast of the air conditioning you forgot to turn off. Hair tangled, skin glistening at the hollows. The kind of wreckage that suggests not just sex, but possession.

You wonder what someone might assume if they saw you now. Not what, but who.

As in—Who did this to her?

As in—Who owns her like that?

The answer, of course, is already stepping barefoot onto the polished teak.

Her presence is enormous—not in volume, but in precision. In density. She radiates this sense of curation, of something not just expensive but worth owning. She moves like something honed to a point. She exists the way a Cartier Crash watch does: violently elegant, disturbing in its fluid asymmetry, confusing in its intention but undeniable in value. She is the kind of woman who doesn’t tell the time; she is the time. You once asked her for it, just to see what she’d do. She didn’t answer. Just turned your chin with her knuckle and kissed you hard enough to erase the question mid-sentence.

“I’m warm,” you say.

Which, in your shared language, means: Don’t tell me what to do.

Which also means: I want to see if you’ll still claim me in public after I deliberately ignore you.

Which, if you’re being honest, means: I’m still hungry. Even now. Even after that.

She says nothing.

You can feel her looking at you—feel her stare like fingers, counting every inch, every blemish, every trace she’s left behind. You wonder what part of you she starts with: the notched line of your spine, still red where her nails dug in; the subtle knot at the base of your shoulder from how she’d gripped it, too tight and too long; the soft under-curve of your breast now exposed to an entire sea that doesn’t give a single fuck. A sea that couldn’t care less whether you’re clothed, naked, adored or completely destroyed.

You imagine a lens somewhere. A long one. A telephoto. Some French man called Henri crouched in a small dinghy, cradling a Canon 1DX with a greasy finger and a questionable sense of ethics. You picture the headline already drafted in someone’s inbox: PUTELLAS’ MYSTERY WIFE BARES ALL OFF THE COAST OF CORSICA.

In all-caps, of course. They always use all-caps when a woman’s tits are involved.

You smile.

She walks over now, slow and certain. Picks up your discarded bikini top from the side of the lounger. Holds it between two fingers like it offends her on a structural level.

“This is literally a shoelace,” she says.

“It’s Prada.”

“It’s two triangles of fabric and the audacity of youth.”

You bought it impulsively the same day she signed the closing papers on the London penthouse, high off real estate and champagne, off her hand on your thigh beneath a linen tablecloth at Scott’s. She’d said it was too revealing, and you’d laughed directly in her face—mostly because she said it while unzipping your dress in the boutique changing room, knuckles grazing the lace you’d worn just for her. You still have the tag, folded neatly into your drawer next to a crumpled Agent Provocateur receipt and the Hermès tissue paper she tore through with zero ceremony. She, meanwhile, keeps everything. You once found an envelope in her office drawer marked in her small, upright script:

Apology Gifts – Receipts (Honeymoon Series).

Inside: three separate invoices from Van Cleef & Arpels. Two dated the same week.

“You’re topless,” she says this time. Not angry. Just too the point. Aware. Like she’s updating you on the weather.

Cloudless sky. Northeasterly breeze. Wife’s tits out.

You reach up, twist your hair into a loose knot. The strands stick slightly, damp with sea mist and the residue of her breath on your neck. Your breasts lift and settle with the motion. You can feel the weight of them shift, the sore prickle of friction where she pulled and twisted and nipped. Her eyes follow the movement, a twitch of hunger barely there in the corner of her mouth.

“I know,” you say, voice neutral. Sweet. Dangerous.

Alexia sighs. Her hand moves through her hair—shorter now, though just enough off to rifle her off split ends. There’s a dent pressed into her hairline from the fabric headband she still wears to play, out of habit more than need. You touch it sometimes in bed, when her back is to you, when her breathing’s heavy but not quite asleep. A thumb against the divot, like a priest touching his rosary.

Her wrists are bare. No jewellery today except for the platinum wedding band you places there twelve days ago, and the thin gold chain at her throat. It holds a Charles X medallion, antique, slightly tarnished. She claims it means nothing. But she wears it every time she signs a deal. Every time she fucks you after one. You’ve seen her in diamonds, emerald-cut and cruel. But nothing sits on her body like that coin.

“There could be press,” she says.

“There could be sharks,” you say. You don’t even look at her. “But that didn’t bother you when you fingered me in sea yesterday.”

You recline against the lounger, the one with the pale linen cover you never sit on dry. Your spine still stings—fibres rubbing into your back while she pinned you there, muttering things too filthy to be translated. The fabric beneath you now is cool, slightly damp from condensation or the aftermath of a very physical forty plus minutes. You cross one ankle over the other, toes flexing idly. The sun toasts your chest. You let it. You want it to tan the shape of her mouth across your breasts.

She doesn’t respond. Not immediately. You know that silence. It means she’s choosing her words, trying not to sound like her mother. Or worse—like the managers, the press officers, the people who shadowed her for years with clipboards and crisis management emails. Alexia never speaks by accident. It’s one of the things that drove you insane when you first met her—this polished, endless restraint. The way she could dress down a boardroom of men, then turn to you and call you mi amor in the same tone.

Like both were contracts. Like both were binding.

Now, she says: “You’re not used to being wanted by people who don’t actually like you.”

And there it is.

It lands like a dare. Like a diagnosis. Like she’s giving you something to chew on, not swallow.

“Is that what this is about?” you say, head tilting. “You think someone’s going to look at me and decide I’m… what? A threat?”

“I think someone’s going to look at you and decide I’m careless,” she says.

You freeze. Not outwardly. Just a beat in your breathing. That’s the thing about her—she never needs to shout. She just drops the knife and waits to see who bleeds first.

Her shadow breaks across your thighs like ink. The sun hits the length of her left leg, slicing down from hip to shin like it’s auditioning for something. She’s all lean geometry and sin. A shape so precise you’d believe it was machine-cut.

You think she might kiss you. You want her not to. Not yet.

She leans in instead, low enough that her voice barely has to travel.

“You’re covered in bruises,” she says, almost admiringly. “I fucked you stupid. You’re wearing nothing but saltwater and lip balm. And you’re sitting here like you’re not my wife, and I didn’t make you like this.”

You swallow. Your throat is dry, like it always gets after she’s done with you—used up and dusted out. Your body throbs in memory. Your cunt still pulses when you shift.

“You did make me like this,” you murmur. Soft. Sincere.

And somewhere in her expression—just for a second—you see it: that twitch of pride she tries not to show. The quiet, sinful satisfaction of ownership.

“Exactly.”

She reaches for your sunglasses—her sunglasses, black Celine with amber lenses and an arm smudged with your thumbprint—and lifts them off your face in one smooth, silent movement. Her fingers graze your cheek, knuckle to jawline, and it’s enough to short-circuit your thoughts. Your brain hums white for a moment. She’s close enough that her breath ghosts across your lips, and you can still smell yourself on her skin—rich, musky, heady, obscene.

She looks at you like she’s weighing options. Like she’s standing in front of a vitrine and trying to decide whether to sell you, pawn you, or buy you back again just to prove she could. There’s a flicker in her eyes, something almost amused. You get the sense she’d fuck you right here on the deck if she thought it would end the conversation.

“You forget this is a game,” she murmurs, voice low and even, like silk slipping through her teeth. “And the thing about games is, someone always plays dirtier than you.”

You blink slowly. Her breath smells like lime and sea salt, fresh and sharp. Her bottom lip is still slightly swollen—faintly bitten, faintly red, with a drying sheen of you along the corner. You imagine licking it off.

“Let them play,” you whisper.

And you mean it. You’re reckless with it. Bare, skin hot and mouth parted, knowing she could undo you again just by slipping her fingers into your bikini bottoms—or worse, pulling them down and walking away.

She smiles, but it’s sharp around the edges. Not cruel, just resigned. As if she already knows how this ends. As if she’s already read tomorrow’s headline and memorised the photo credit.

“You say that now,” she says. “Until they’re in your face asking how much I paid for you. How long you’ve had your tits done. Whether the bruises mean I hit you. Whether I own you or rent you.”

You flinch, but barely. Not from her—never from her. It’s not the words that land. It’s the image of someone else using them. Of a voice you don’t know, speaking in contempt and press passes. Of a cheap hotel room and a slideshow of your body from twenty different angles, taken without permission, captioned without truth.

“I can handle it,” you say, but your voice lacks the usual gloss.

“Can you?” she asks, soft as cashmere. “Because I don’t think you’ve had to yet.”

You want to argue. You want to say you’re not naive. That you’re not a doll or a trophy or some wife-shaped ornament she found at a charity gala and forgot to put down. But the sun is too warm and your skin still buzzes from where she held you down. Your cunt still aches in the best possible way. And deep down, you know she’s right.

You’ve lived wrapped in her world like a pearl in velvet. You’ve been sheltered in her storm—hidden inside her yeses, her private flights, her curated little ecosystem where nothing touches you unless she allows it.

“I like the sun,” you say.

It’s not a counterpoint. It’s not even an argument. Just a truth. You like the heat on your skin. You like being watched. You like the idea that someone, somewhere, might see what she’s done to you and ache with the knowledge that it wasn’t them.

She nods. Stands. Her shadow slips away like an expensive afterthought.

“I’ll talk to Marc,” she says. “Have him revoke the crew’s electronics permissions.”

And then she’s gone. Back into the cool interior, where everything is silent and beige and expensive and untouched. Where the floors don’t creak. Where the cameras can’t follow. Where her phone is probably already ringing and her assistant is already listening.

You stay.

The sea is stupidly blue. Aggressively blue. The kind of rich that makes you feel poor just looking at it. Your nipples are tight. Your skin smells like sweat and sex and suncream. Your pulse is low and steady, like a cat in a warm window. Your lips still taste faintly of her—salt and spit and something deeper.

You don’t know where the camera is. But you’re certain there is one.

You sit perfectly still. Posed. Cinematic. The image already forming in the lens:

Topless. Ruined. Glowing. Defiant.

The kind of wife who knows exactly what she’s risking.

And exactly how good it looks when she does.

[dramadramallama]

Final thoughts and trying to organize my feelings around Heesu In Class 2.

It truly felt like a "regular," quality kdrama, except for one thing. One very important thing: two of the main characters are gay, and endgame. Like, I don't think we realize how unthinkable a (mainstream) Korean show like this was, just two or three years ago.

It might not be 100% faithful to the source material but it is 100% faithful to the story it sets out to tell. It had a clear direction from the start, hit the mark several times, and never lost sight of that finish line: @lurkingshan and @twig-tea put it very succinctly and pertinently when they said the drama had, respectively, "a legible narrative" and was "carefully calibrated."

On top of that, it has a great re-watch value with a lot of blink and you'll-miss-it details, and beautiful direction. A lot of care went into how the scenes are set up and shot and it shows.

I completely understand that some people might prefer a drama with a different, more "targeted" focus (i.e literally everything converging towards Hee-su narratively) but that doesn't mean anything else is automatically wrong/bad. I feel like you can find that elsewhere so easily; it's just not that kind of story. I also think it's such a restrictive way of looking at things... Gay romance does not need to be locked in the confines of your average BL. I don't want to watch the same arbitrary BL tropes being applied like it's the law. How boring. We finally have a high budget, high quality Korean drama with—I cannot stress this enough—A GAY TITLE CHARACTER that gets the same treatment a straight coming of age romance kdrama would... and I, for one, am delighted in, and celebrate the creative liberties they took. It was a risk, but it paid off.

It only feels like other characters take "too much space/time" away from Seung-won and Hee-su than they actually do because 1. the show has a longer runtime, and more episodes and 2. the show does not follow the "classic" boys love formula. Hee-su does not exist in a bubble where everything that happens happens only TO HIM. However what happens around him definitely serves to highlight his struggles, his fears, or his emotions in general. I'd go even further and say that not everything happening in relation to Hee-su has to be about Seung-won... Characters can exist outside of their love interests. It's one of the reasons the drama felt so well-rounded to me.

Hee-su is the hero of this drama, but the show does a wonderful job of reminding us the other characters are not NPCs, not puppets, not props. And they also are orbiting around their own centers, and that does not diminish Heesu's character or his relationship with Seung-won. In fact, the drama makes a point of underlining how extraordinary it is that they (tiny specks of stardust) could find each other (in the vastness of the universe).

I love metaphors and the cosmic theme threaded through the episodes was just the cherry on top. I don't want to focus too much on the criticism I've read for the show but I will admit that most of what seemed to rub people the wrong way is actually what made it special to me.

Yes, we get more perspective from different points of view, and we get to see the other characters struggle and grow up too, but the drama never loses sight of, or erase Hee-su. It's more like the narrative sometimes switches to a broader lens, and we have access to a wider spectrum of colors. Everything (Hee-su included) gets to feel more three dimensional. When ep1 and 2 aired, I said the show felt "full" but maybe a better way to put it would be that it's not flat.

I can argue about it ad nauseam, but the matter of the fact is Hee-su is The Main Character, and he's GAY, very GAY, and it's his story and his struggles being told. The actors did a wonderful job and made me feel so much. And it ends well!

It was lovely.

[miinuteswag]

sorry zam oomfs but I'm just so distraught over charmander duo. I know not everyone cares for them but GOD I do

Since the very start of the season, Pangi has been the exception to everything that Flame does. Flame kills people without mercy and even starts to get angry at the pacifists for being so stagnant, but not Pangi. Pangi is except from his anger, and he acknowledges that Pangi is still a pacifist, but he doesn't want to kill him despite that.

Flame builds up these walls and doesn't allow anyone to really get close to him because he knows that attachment is a weakness. Yet he allows Pangi to drag him out to a random place, and there they just simply make a build together. Flame doesn't build because it's an attachment he can't afford, but he makes an exception because it's Pangi asking him.

In a world where Flame is hunted down by any man that lays eyes upon him, Pangi shows him kindness that he forgot existed out there. Flame quite literally says that he forgot that even he is worth kindness until Pangi showed him that he was. So much for no attachments, but what else was he meant to do?

When the next day Flame is meant to blow up spawn again, he can't help but think back of how Pangi showed him that builds mattered. He had said strict demands that weren't met, so spawn would be punished as a result, but he couldn't find himself to go through with it.

During the time that Flame was trying to organise this huge fight, no one was cooperating until Pangi came along and did his best. Everyone was against giving Flame what he wanted, but Pangi still believed in his words and was willing to set this up for the chance of a safe spawn. Even if that ended up ruined by Mapicc.

After this disappointment, there's a moment where both of them don't really have any important interactions for a long time. But even at this point, Flame refuses to kill Pangi and even lists him as one of the people him and Mane are not allowed to kill.

In a non-serious stream, Pangi is simply hanging out with Derapchu when Flame logs on. Derapchu's reaction is to immediately try and hide because he's afraid of Flame. Meanwhile, Pangi is happily greeting him and asking for Flame to join them. This is also when Pangi asks the hypothetical: "If I got the mace right now, what'd you do, Flame?" To which Flame answers with: "I'd beg you for it."

Even if Flame doesn't immediately notice it, Pangi does and points out how he didn't say that he would try and kill Pangi for it. I believe that if it had been anyone else, Flame wouldn't hesitate to kill them. Flame genuinely doesn't want to kill Pangi, which is something so dear to me. Flame can only giggle in response to Pangi pointing this out, by the way.

Around Christmas and during Mawn, the entire spawn was flooded with wardens, which were even ruining the place that Pangi used to record videos at. Obviously, Flame isn't really supposed to try and get rid of the wardens when he has aligned himself with Mawn, but Pangi is upset at him, so what do those rules matter?

Every time spawn kept getting blown up, Flame didn't do too much to try and keep Mane from going his way. But the time Mane sets Pangi's Christmas tree on fire, Flame immediately tells him to knock it off and even goes so far to fight him off. Not seriously, but serious enough to get the point across. When he notices that Pangi is genuinely upset, he helps him rebuild it entirely even if he never liked to build.

Even with the Lifesteal hunger games, Flame supplied Pangi with ten hearts from his heart supply. That's a lot of hearts to give to someone, even with the promise of getting them back once it's over. Flame trusts Pangi and doesn't see him as a threat.

When Flame looks at Pangi, he sees someone who is different from everyone. In a world filled with hardship and people who would kill him when given the chance, Pangi simply smiles at him and offers him kindness when no one else would.

That is why, when Pangi joined in order to help Zam fight against Flame, it hurt so much. It didn't matter that Zam had so many people ready or led him down this hole. It mattered that Pangi was fighting against him. That was the one thing he didn't expect. Pangi had always been the exception, and now, even he was fighting him.

[darkwingdukat]

I really need fellow USAmericans to understand that the things schools teach you aren't the facts and figures you're supposed to memorize for standardized testing.

"Schools should actually teach us things we'll use in life like how to files taxes": probably, yeah. Good schools with a strong Economics class may even do so. But, uh, did your school teach you how to ask for help from an expert when you're unable to find the information on your own? Did your school teach you how to do basic research?

"The school system failed me by not teaching me about other countries having cities!!" Weird, mine did. Both my shitty Oregon high school and my highly rated Texas school did. In Oregon in 9th grade I had geography tests about every continent in the world. Which actually I failed. Why? Because I didn't study. Why? Because I didn't care. (Which was actually a huge achievement for me, a chronically overanxious student.) In Texas, in 10th grade, I was in an AP World History class. It was hard and to be honest, I remember nothing I learnt in that class. It was... fuck. 20 years ago. Most people AREN'T going to remember those details they had to learn in those classes.

But you do remember that there is a world. It has a history. You remember there are books and the internet and people you can talk to who don't come from the same background as you. You remember that not every source is reliable and to examine an opinion from every angle to come up with your own opinion. You learn how to argue about something you couldn't give less of a shit about.

Teachers perpetuate this lie that school teaches you All The Things You'll Ever Need to Know and that THEIR subject is THEE most important one, naturally. When I worked in a middle school, I also joined in on the lie because when my kids would ask me "why do i need to do this? When will i ever use this?" if i said "you really don't" then they'd just check out and say school is useless. The USAmerican school system as a whole really does suck, I won't deny that. But school literally cannot teach you every single thing you'll ever need to know about life. At some point you need to take that onus on yourself. When I was growing up, the internet was still quite a new thing. My high school papers were exclusively researched in books. When my parents were in high school, they didn't have the internet at all. Yet we know the world exists. Gen Z and Gen Alpha have grown up in an increasingly global society that allows them to understand more of the world than we ever could, but at what cost...

im american and i knew that like in kindergarten so i think some of you are just stupid sorry

[goomyloid]

I find it a little funny how much the Deltarune fandom has disconnected the Player from us, basically treating the concept of “the player” as it’s own character. Is this how Flowey felt?

i mean, from my perspective, isn’t it kind of encouraged? we start out the game by making an avatar, even if it gets discarded. we play the game as the soul, not kris, and our presumed role in the game is to literally look into a window of a different world and play the game. our existence as a player is crucial to deltarune’s story

i think with all of that, its understandable that different interpretations of how the soul behaves would pop up — established beings with personalities can only be described as Characters, at least to me. a lot of player interpretations ive seen are actively brought to life by people’s thoughts and feelings about the game, they dont just come out of nowhere.

ive said it before, but my particular player-character more so represents the kind of player that treats the world as if its fictional (i.e. they dont care about hurting a character’s feelings or something like that, they just want to see what happens). despite this, the characters are still interesting, so they shamelessly poke and prod and pick them apart to try to understand what’s going on in their heads. (a lot of them comes from my own attitudes actually, which maybe makes sense from the different scenarios i put them in. what i do is literally what my player does.)

it’s like, personifying the force that pushes kris and noelle into the weird route, which makes sense because there’s some weird Being with impossible motives controlling kris. what do we want, and what do they want? i think its too interesting to NOT explore…

[amethyst-marshmallow]

My designs for the main 3 numbers!!! (i didnt put x bc i draw him all the time anyway)

Yayy!! Hcs & yapping under cut :3

For all algebraliens:

They have either paws or claws on their hands, their feet area always paws tho (rip One)

They also usually either have a fluffy tail (like four) or a like. line tail? idk what to call it (what One and Two both have) but they r smooth although they can have spikes which are pointyy (One has these, X (not pictured) has some too which resembles barbed wire) (Two's tail is just smooth tho)

They do have a thin layer of fur, it is usually also thicker on their arms than their main body (though sometimes a secondary species can change this). It also gets thicker in the winter! Sometimes algebraliens can have tufts of fur, like Four's heart-shaped tuft (which also has some magenta fur), though it is rare

gender as a concept did not exist for them, since they had no sexes (they reproduce asexually) so they all use all pronouns but the ones who have lived on earth longer sometimes have some that they prefer :3 those r the ones i wrote down but basically just assume a "/any" behind those

Number algebraliens specifically tend to have 2 main colors and the whites of their eyes are colored, they also tend to not really have a secondary species/assigned animal instead having an associated shape :3 though they can have secondary species rarely (ex. my nine is a cat, though he also has a lightning bolt as her shape)

These guys:

One - she/they

Main color is purple-y blue, ik but i had to make it different from four and six also gaty refrence omg periwinkle hahah secondary color is yellow/blue bc it changes omg crazyyy

Motif is crescent moons ofc, the halo is moon shaped and the horns r also supposed to kinda remind u of that

Her horns/halo both glow, but its a softer glow when they turn blue

Two - she/he

Main color is green secondary is purple :3 i think they contrast nice but lmk if its ugly as shit

Motif is circles ik i couldve chosen stars but there is already another green character associated with stars i draw frequently (Vee dw)

Their antennae endpoint ball thingies also glow, she can change how bright the glow is :]

Also shes aroace idc idgaf i see all the two ships as platonic. cry about it (yes this includes both twogaty/gatwo and 2x8 which was literally said to be platonic,, wah wah wah)

Four - actually does not care xd

Main color is blue second is magenta :3 i like contrasting color scheme,, this one idec if ppl think its ugly its fitting but i do like it

I chose hearts for her motif bc mammals have 4 chambered hearts (algebraliens arent mammals but whateverrr) also you can make a heart shape 4 four fingers :) in two different ways!! also it is partially inspired by that one scene in bfb 4

Their design is MY FAV omg i love him sm shes so cool erm yeah

yeah it was hard for me to decide what i wanted to do bc i knew antennae would look ugly for me bc they already have the bnuy ears goin on so i went with whiskers!! and then i put hearts on them :3 i ended up being rlly happy w this design ahudkafsb i hope you love him as much as i doooo,,,

also like i said earlier they do have the Rare! trait of having a tuft of fur and it even fades into magenta omg thats so cool i mostly did it since i knew from far away/in a simlpified form u wouldnt see the tuft but i still wanted to put a heart there so i decided to have it fade like that (even if its not really a "fade" but idk what else to call it xd) so from far away u could still see a magenta heart, like on the chibis

also the heart particles appear when they get happy, this is directly taken from the bfb 4 scene,,, when they get really happy the magic in the particles gets strong enough they become a physical object and they fling off at rlly high speeds >:3

ok lol Fours section was rlly long but i rlly like four shes so silly :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3 :3

by.e :D

[thanatologie]

which, actually, in a follow up thought related to elder scrolls no one asked for or cares about but that i want to put a pin in to explore later for me: scratch the devotee of arkay thing, who cares about arkay, fuck arkay. like it's kind of hard to deny the aedra and daedra since they, you know, physically exist and do have an effect on the world (which, fair, when you get into the lorkhan of it all the aedra are mostly cut off and the daedra aren't but that is neither here nor there for the purposes of this thinky thought). like you pray at a shrine sometimes you get an answer, sometimes people literally mantle (become) the gods, it's a whole ass thing.

but emmrich being emmrich probably has a very dwemer-esque mindset about all of that in that, sure, they're real, true facts things. powerful, yeah, but maybe not worthy of a whole ass religion that was a compromise to marry nordic animism and the elven pantheon after the slave rebellion and trashing of the ayleid empire, right.

no, arkay has fuck all to do with whatever he's got going on, but what does effect him is the banning of the practice of necromancy from the arcane university (and the college of winterhold at a much later date). sure, you say elder scrolls necromancy and think mannimarco, i'm sure, but there have been necromancers that aren't actually terrible, awful people who use their knowledge of it to do horrible things, and he'd follow a path more in line with the recommendations of on necromancy and the order of the hidden moon, encouraging the dead to move on instead of what the majority of necromancers are doing which is keeping souls tethered instead.

[bright-hope-spot-19]

Yeah, Gaara got boring in Shippuden. It's always been a personal thought of mine that the reason we never get to see anything of his development process and it's all completely offscreen, is because Gaara was meant to be like..... the standard Naruto should aspire to. He's the paragon of what Naruto aims to be. For Naruto to look up to him and be reminded of what his end goal is. Because yeah, Gaara's change was too...... I don't know how best to put it into words. It just doesn't make any sense. He goes from an unstable, bloodthirsty child to a mature, respected, and collected leader in the span of less than 5 years. We're never told how any of that happened, either. We're just left to assume.

Another thing is just his practically nonexistent bond with his siblings. I've already mentioned it once before, and I'll say it again: it really makes no sense for them to be siblings when their bond sees practically no development? I imagine that maybe it also wouldn't have made sense for him to be the only son of the Kazekage put into a team with two random dudes. Also, because I assume if they weren't his sibs, Kishi probably wouldn't have had any issues killing both of them off in the chunin exams. Maybe he thought that by making them sibs, Gaara's change would be more poignant and emotional? But again, he never fucking does anything with them. Legit, we never see Gaara even thinking about them in canon. Sparing them a mere thought. Meanwhile, you have Kankuro and Temari getting 5 different panic attacks and risking their lives every time Gaara's hurt. From Gaara's side, there's 0 sibling development. It's very one-sided cause all the care comes from the elder ones, and he never reciprocates.

This is also just surprising because I'm pretty sure if I haven't missed anything, the main point of Gaara's character was to form bonds with those around him. Bonds he'd previously rejected cause he saw them all as useless, unnecessary, and he lived thinking they all existed to satisfy Shukaku's bloodlust. Despite all that, we only ever see him worry and care about Naruto. Why not have him start by bonding with his own sibs who literally live with him? In the Kage meeting arc, he literally has a line of dialogue affirming that "if it's Naruto they're talking about, he knows him very well" or smth. In the war arc, he has this grandiose speech to the alliance about protecting his friend. He freaks out when he sees Nart show up on the battlefield. But does he, through the entirety of the war, think bout his sibs and their well-being a single time? No, of course! Why would he do that! He never once stopped to even ponder whether Tem and Kank might still be alive or not. Naruto is all that matters to him! At one point, when the tailed beasts were gathered and Gaara was also given a moment to speak with Shukaku? He literally tells the beast he was glad to have been a jinchuriki cause it was thanks to that he got to meet Naruto. No regrets or mentions about how yeah, he met Nart. But he also had to ruin his siblings' childhoods in the process. Honestly, at this point, I don't even think Gaara cares that Tem and Kank had to suffer a lot for him and because of him. Honestly, if you asked him, I'm sure he'd be pretty fucking willing to drag his sibs through Hell itself, if it ensured Naruto's safety. That's not good development.

Kankuro and Temari were done dirty in all this. They give and give and never get anything back in return. Tbh, Kishi kinda tried developing a brotherly bond between the two boys? I'd definitely say that despite being underdeveloped, Kankuro at least saw some slight change and development in his bond with Gaara. But that was all flushed down the toilet cause why make Gaara care about anyone not named Naruto? Temari sees even less development with Gaara (as I've also said once before: she was just a peacekeeper. Once Gaara wasn't crazy anymore, she really wasn't needed). There's also barely a bond between Tem and Kank, even though these two practically raised each other. Kishimoto honestly, never cared about the sand sibs. Gaara got development completely centered around Naruto and nothing else cause he's ridiculously popular, and seeing him gush bout Nart, I suppose, made the yaoi fangirls happy. Temari's popular mainly because of Shikatema, and that's how Kishimoto saw her: another love interest that could potentially pop out another child for the Boruto sequel. Poor, unfortunate Kankuro, who's honestly the most appealing and interesting of the three, only existed to get some cool scenes every 100 chapters or so cause he's not as popular as Gaara, and not a love interest like Temari. A tragic existence, that one is.

Gaara was so boring in Pt 2. He should have stayed a murderous little psychopath. Instead of becoming emotionally stable he should have screeched at people whenever they tried to touch him and killed Deidara for fun

[mxtxfanatic]

Hm, I know I said at least in my first reading of mdzs that I felt like Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were actually friends as kids, I would like to remind folks that the catastrophic breakdown of their friendship was not because of some misplaced care but because Jiang Cheng is a stagnant character whose whole role in the story is to be the one who never learns, changes, and grows past his insecurities and resentments. They were always going to fall out with each other, even if the Sunshot Campaign never happened, even if the Wen Clan didn’t exist as a subjugating force terrorizing the other clans, because no matter how much Jiang Cheng cares about anyone, he will always place his personal resentments first.

I’m so serious: reread the pre-fall of Lotus Pier parts of the novel (flashback extras included), and tell me how many times Jiang Cheng says something genuinely nice about or to the benefit of Wei Wuxian without prompting. Point to me places where Jiang Cheng puts himself on the line for Wei Wuxian that is not him distracting the Wen. Compare the number of unambiguously positive interactions they have to the number of interactions they have in total, and I bet you’ll see that the positives are laughingly scant. Most every interaction they have together, Jiang Cheng is being a negative nancy. He’s the type of friend who, if you said “Today is a good day!” would snidely respond back, “What’s so good about?” before loudly complaining about what a nuisance your happiness is. Jiang Cheng is the type of friend that tells you that everyone else hates you because you’re so annoying, and you need to do something about that because he also finds you annoying so you should be lucky he “puts up with” you. And all of this negativity can be directly traced back to the resentment Jiang Cheng feels caused by his own mother projecting her insecurities onto him. Jiang Cheng, who cannot grow, learn, or change, is unable to extract his own self from his mother’s insecurities, ending up inheriting them as his own, instead.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like teen!Jiang Cheng is some irredeemable monster (that is reserved for his adult self), but Wei Wuxian already shows signs of being tired of his attitude as kids. He snaps at Jiang Cheng rudeness in the lotus pod seeds extra. He constantly admonishes Jiang Cheng about his blatant disregard for the lives and safety of other people. Most of the time, Wei Wuxian won’t even engage in the petty little remarks that Jiang Cheng makes, just treating it like nobody had spoken at all. The only times Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian move as a unit is when they have a common enemy—like Jin Zixuan—but without that, they are only held together by the fact that…they’ve been friends for a long time.

And this kinda leads me back to the point about the yunmeng friendship not being able to withstand the test of time even without an outside conflict: I would place the point of no return for their relationship at Wei Wuxian killing the xuanwu of slaughter, not at the fall of Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian is one of two individuals that killed a mythological bloodthirsty creature responsible for hundreds of deaths, spent a week in a coma from his injuries and lack of immediate care, and what does he get for it? Jiang Cheng shows up with soup gifted to Wei Wuxian by Jiang Yanli, except he’s eaten all the meat out of it. Jiang Fengmian gives the most lukewarm praise to Wei Wuxian for his achievements—which Wei Wuxian neither complained about nor called him out for—because they were both trying to be mindful of Jing Cheng’s insecurities, and Jiang Cheng still made it about himself. When Madam Yu storms in to yell about how Wei Wuxian is a “bastard child” and he’s just trying to show off, Jiang Cheng consciously and unambiguously sides with his mother. Wei Wuxian had to drag his feverish body out of bed���after just awakening from a week-long coma—to placate pity-party Jiang Cheng, and the only thing that makes him feel better is not promises of continued friendship but of servitude. Even if at this point Wei Wuxian was still viewing Jiang Cheng as a—admittedly caustic—friend, Jiang Cheng’s view had fully transitioned from “annoying friend my mother hates” to “the servant I need to keep in line lest he overshadows me.” If anything, the fall of Lotus Pier, the debt placed on Wei Wuxian by the Jiang leaders, and the subsequent war probably allowed their friendship to last longer than it naturally would have (remember, they are only united against outside forces).

All this to say that while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian may have started out as genuine friends in their childhood, their transition to enemies has absolutely nothing to do with that care. Sometimes we fall out with people because we just do not like them as people. Jiang Cheng’s resentment prevented him from appreciating Wei Wuxian as a person, leading to the end of their friendship and their descent into eventual enemies. Not misplaced or warped care, just pure, undeniable resentment.

[superbat-lmao]

Jason travels to an alternate universe where Bruce only cares about being Batman. He took in each of his kids to serve the mission, not be his children.

Now, faced with alternate versions of his family, Jason has to grapple with the fact that his Bruce does care, that he is his father. Because the man in front of him now, trying to send him home, isn’t even close.

[serpentface]

Faiza performing the Kagnoma Odo (pretty literally 'lion dance'), a weapons dance and one of the more important ritual duties of Odonii priestesses. A relatively new addition to this traditional dance involves the musket as the primary weapon, which is fired mid-twirl into the ground at the climax of the dance. Faiza is experiencing an 'oh fuck' moment because her shot is more than ideally diagonal, but she’s being so cool with it.

This is a wholly ceremonial performance at the onset of the pilgrimage, performed in full regalia and lion skin (of the small, semi-domesticated strain) but no armor. It’s also distinctly a display of political allegiance between the powerful and beloved Odonii priesthood (and its loyal military) with the increasingly reviled and destabilized imperial family, with Faiza prominently wearing a bracelet of the royal serpent, which was gifted (along with the musket) by the usoma Stavis Amanti himself (Usoma is the Wardi word for king, which has been retained in the context of emperors).

The Kagnoma Odo is the ultimate demonstration of the Odonii as an embodiment of the Lion Face of God and living vessel of military might and sovereignty, demonstrating her fitness and proficiency with weapons and as a spiritual unifier for soldiers. It is accompanied by drumming and occurs in stages, running through the three keymost weapons used in war- the spear, the sword, and the musket. The musket is of the most significance, given the weapon has developed a particular esteem as the ultimate embodiment of might and superiority. Assistants (almost always other priestesses, occasionally high ranking soldiers) load and prime the musket to be fired at the climax of the dance, where it is shot into the ground as the priestess leaps out of range of the shot. The firing signals the end of the dance and the rite itself.

While not the utmost exemplar of trigger discipline, only fully inducted and senior (and therefore very thoroughly trained) Odonii are permitted to perform the dance, and injuries during actual performances are quite rare (though are known to occur during training, more than a few Odonii have burns and wounds on their feet).

The most important renditions of this dance are performed upon declarations of war and before battles (in this case, generally done in full armor along with the lion pelt). It is also done during some trainings (while a dance, it is carefully choreographed to include naturalistic maneuvers of the weapons involved and helps soldiers limber up and learn to move their weapons). It is regarded as an impressive and motivating sight and a morale booster, and, seen at a distance, potentially intimidating to enemies.

A special variant of this dance is performed as means of fully incarnating the Odomache, which is done in full nudity with the body covered in the blood of the freshly sacrificed lion and cloaked in its raw pelt (the lion has become the corpse of Odomache in the moment of death, as part of its recreation of God's sacrifice). Her public, full nude appearance once (and only once) in this act is what allows the Lion Face of God to incarnate within her. Those in attendance see the spiritually vulnerable, naked human body obscured with the sanctified and deified blood and cloaked in the sanctified and deified skin. It is a merger of the contradictions of mortality and divinity, the boundaries between the two indistinct in flickering firelight and the flash of musketfire. She is witnessed by her people, dangling in between humanity and divinity and leading them in dance, and and is thus transformed.

[laconchadetumadre]

Sorry to rant but

I actually liked kyman when i started getting into South Park because of their dynamic and Cartman's obvious obsession with kyle. I'm a big fan of enemies to lovers too, so Kyman checked all the boxes for me.

However, Gingercow changed my perspective of them. I remember finding this episode in a "Kyman centered episodes" list. I only made it up until the first scene where Cartman farts on Kyle before pausing and just staring at a wall for some time. I didn't finish it, but that scene alone made me so... uncomfortable.

I'm only sharing my first impression of the episode (and i doubt this was even intended on Matt and Trey's part) but it felt like a rape allegory. It felt like Kyle was being raped by Cartman and i couldnt stand to watch it. It wasnt just because of the literal grossness of the scene, but the fact that it was Kyle being forced to submit.

At first, i felt like maybe Matt and Trey were trying to shut down Kyman shippers, so i decided to pretend that the episode didn't happen. I was aware that it had been selected by a shipper as a "Kyman" episode, but i thought it was probably a joke or just a one-time thing, no biggie.

Then the Post Covid specials dropped and a good portion of Kyman shippers blamed Kyle and were upset at him for Cartman's ending. The fact that so many posts dunking on kyle were particularly popular with kyman shippers only made me relate less and less to them. Atp i felt like most kyman shippers only cared about cartman.

After that i couldnt stop noticing how unfair they were to kyle, always expecting him to look out for cartman, to put up with his bullshit while also putting up a fight (to keep up the "sexual tension", ugh) but then calling him bitchy for his reactions to being harassed or saying he has anger issues. I felt like my interpretation of his character was completely different from the majority of Kyman shippers, so i distanced myself from their community and the fandom for a while.

The appeal of kyman to me was that, if cartman were to have a crush on kyle, it kinda gave kyle a little power over him. However, most kyman shippers seem to interpret their relationship similarly to hannigram or other toxic relationships that are romanticized. So, in their eyes, kyle should embrace cartman as he is, cause that's a metaphor for idk homosexuality and eroticisim or something.

All that is fine, really, I fucking love hannigram but thats because they are usually written in a way that empowers will (the victim) over hannibal (the aggressor). They still explore will's "darker" side without trying to justify all the shit hanni puts him through. And, on top of that, unlike kyman, hannibal and will are MEANT to be seen this way. They were written to be interpreted as a toxic romantic couple. Kyle and Cartman, on the other hand, are meant to be comedic and entertaining only.

Im not saying fanon doesnt have the right to exist, but it does bother me when the fandom acts entitled towards the canon. As in, when fans think they could write the story better than the original author. This is particularly annoying with kyman shippers because, as i have explained, they cant even grasp the concept that cartman. wont. change. Not for kyle or anybody else (not even heidi OR YENTL).

just to wrap things up, i obviously do not support or condone any kind of harassment towards kyman shippers and if anybody has comitted or threatened violent actions on them solely for fan wars genuenly get off the internet and go see a therapist. im also aware some kyman shippers follow me and im ok with that! i like kyman fanarts sometimes but i just wanted to share my personal reasons as to why i distance myself from this part of the fandom.

TLDR;

kyman is bad because it is abusive and extremely ooc and kyman shippers are wrong for acting entitled and thinking they know cartman and kyle better than mattrey and the rest of the fandom when they, in fact, do not.  also, dont harass anybody over ships.

I need someone to genuinely explain to me why kyman is bad. I don't ship it a lot or anything but sometimes I like the thought of it ig? like oh yeah a healthy relationship between the two would be kinda neat yk? I 100% agree with the people who say an abusive/ unhealthy relationship between them is gross and proship, but I can genuinely see them being happy together. when they're teens ofc bc cartman obviously has some maturing to do. Just take a look at ass burgers or the end of obesity. they care about each other.

[aroaceleovaldez]

yknow, I am amused that solangelo fanon was so tunnel-vision in like 2014 that in the midst of crawling through literally every time Will had popped up in the series prior, somehow the ONE singular instance of Will referencing something that the fandom did absolutely nothing with was the thing Rick then decided to draw out into being a major character trait for Will.

Like. Nico eats McDonalds once and it becomes a huge fanon thing, but Will references Star Trek and the fandom doesn't make a peep until Rick explicitly canonizes that he's a huge sci fi nerd. and Rick doesn't even keep it consistent! He changes it so Will is a Star Wars nerd instead of Star Trek. smh 😔 /lh

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

I would be the Witch’s number one apologist, if i thought she had done anything deserving of an apology. Sadly many people dont agree with this view, so im her defence lawyer instead (shes innocent trust me)

“But the Witch killed Arthur?” Yes, but you see he had forced his way into her home and while we the audience know that the princes maggots transformed into bugs, for all she knows hes murdered her children. Arthurs has killed people for far less

[girl-drink-drunk]

i love love love that it was nathan, not harold, who came up with the idea of the back door to the machine, who wanted to save the people deemed not important, who we get to see have a bunch of guilt over what they did and who started saving people first. so often when the genius inventor has a partner they turn out to be a backstabber or someone who refuses to do the right thing while the inventor wants to. i was absolutely gutted when he was killed.

[teleportationmagic]

The thing about Jayce and Mel is that like. She does not view him as an investment. That is just certifiably false. You have to skip over all her scenes to believe that.

In the beginning she does! She absolutely does! She conceives of their relationship as a business one - where she makes profit off his inventions, and he profits from her business and political acumen, both monetarily and powerwise. And overall, she believes she's fulfilled her half of the bargain.

It's only when he comes back to her after Viktor gets sick that she realizes he believes this is something deeper. And it's notable that she responds to that emotion - she opens up about herself too, comforts him, and expresses real emotionality about it. It's then that we see his ideals start to influence her - especially reawakening in her a desire for nonviolence.

Wanting to do things peacefully is something that's been with her since she was a child. It is what guides her away from Noxus, because her pacifism just does not fit there. It's why she loved Piltover so - they aren't a violent expansionist empire, which is a really low bar, but that's what she's grown up in.

She never finds the violence in Zaun, because she never goes looking for it. This is her fault, and her flaw, let me make that clear. She has some of the most power in the city, and should know about what kind of violence is holding up, and work to resolve it, truly. But she doesn't, because she's focused on her own exploits, and has so insulated herself away from the class struggle that it does not register for her until it grows to violence.

And then, once that violence comes, she maintains that pacifism with an iron grip, more than Jayce himself. It is Jayce who constructs (almost) all the HexTech weapons that are used in the Undercity, in Caitlyn's police squadron. He betrays the oaths that he's made to his partner, where Mel keeps the promise she's made to her's. She is the only politician left to try to tamp down on the worst of Ambessa's instincts, and her removal from Piltover is what marks it's descent into militarism.

She is ultimately a complicated woman, with a bunch of interesting relationships to Piltover and Zaun. I think you can divide Piltover as a city neatly between her, Jayce, and Caitlyn - each of them standing for some of Piltover's best instincts, and some of its worst.