#that’s how shamed anime was back then I’m still in that mindset

[realizashuns]

in the breakroom during my orientation I saw these and texted my friend “well at least someone passes the vibe check”

later on saw a dude wheeling the bike out to clock out and the backpack was still there. There’s two diff weebs and idk if that’s better or worse 😭😂

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

���So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

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[ihatecispeople]

cant believe i will write these words but: before i get into MY interpretation of omegaverse heats during ramadan i NEED to make it clear that i am not a muslim scholar. i. am NOT. a muslim scholar! i look at this from a sunni lay perspective

ALSO. beloved mutuals. my friends. do NOT judge me for the omegaverse knowledge i have . at this point its like knowing what a furry is: its just part of being online too much

-----

for those not muslim: during ramadan, muslims fast from dawn til dusk for 30 days. fasting includes: no intake of water which reaches the stomach, no intake of food or other solids which reaches the stomach (including medication), and no sexual activity. though islam doesnt forbid masturbation the same way western christianity does (it essentially is seen as the lesser evil between "premartial sex or Not Doing That" OR "forcing/pressuring your spouse into sex or not"), partaking in sexual activity (reaching orgasm and/or ejaculation, but also pursuiting sexual intimacy including watching porn) is considered breaking your fast. voluntary vomiting also breaks your fast. apart from these four core ones, different denominations and cultures will consider further things breaking your fast, such as smoking, listening to music, etc.

you are traditionally exempt from fasting if you require vital (oral) medication, you are old, sick, breastfeeding, pregnant, and/or if you're menstruating. basically, exemption to fasting is on the basis that you are unable to fast due to a bodily condition which puts you at risk if you don't consume food and water. you're still discouraged from sex during sun hours, though. important: exemption from fasting is not the same, religiously, as allowing certain vital behaviours and considering the fast as not broken

lastly, if you have a condition which is not chronic, such as you are menstruating, you are expected to supplicate those days of fasting before the next ramadan. if you intentionally break your fast, each day intentionally broken is supposed to be supplicated by 60 days of fasting before the next ramadan

so like, would entering an omegaverse heat during ramadan break your fast? MY interpretation is that it depends on what the heat would be like.

-----

heat type 1: the heat is just increased sexual urges. then no, entering the heat would not necessarily break your fast. unintentional erections, unintentional ejaculations, unintentional lubrication - none of these things break your fast. these are bodily functions that can and do happen outside a sexual context. if the heat is simply getting extra horny, and this is considered a bodily occurrence outside of conscious decision, it is your job to resist sexual thoughts and sexual activity, including masturbation, until nighttime. if you break this, tough it up, thats 60 days of fasting for every day you couldn't resist

heat type 2: if the heat causes pain, weakness, or another state of extreme discomfort if not sexually alleviated, i think we're looking at a bodily condition which exempts you from fasting, likened to menstruation. you are expected to make up for each missed day where you ate/drank before your next ramadan. i genuinely can’t see islamic scholars deciding that either masturbation or sexual intercourse during the day is encouraged, so either masturbate in shame or toughen it out until night falls. then you can enjoy yourself alone or with your spouse

okay, so for the nuances in between: what if you can trigger a heat by having a certain mindset? i.e. ur close to someone you’re attracted to, so you go into heat because you get horny when you look at them. if your heat is like type 1, you’re free to go. no fast broken, if you resist it. if your heat is like type 2, that’s breaking the fast. listen, i’m just channeling the islamic scholars of old: if you can control your thoughts in our reality, then in an omegaverse reality you should be able to control your thoughts too. islam is big on taking responsibility of your own actions. YOU saw someone you’re attracted to and now YOU’RE in heat to the point where you need to break your fast to alleviate it? buddy thats your own problem not Allah’s (swt) 😂 ramadan is about self restraint and keeping our base animal urges (thirst, hunger, sexual drive) in check for a few hours to empathise with those people that are forced to go without enough water and food year around. if you hung out with your beau intentionally, i would wager its 60 days for each day you’re in heat. if it came out of the blue, say its 1 day then

if one person in heat can trigger another’s: you’ve broken the fast. it’s not your fault though, unless you hung out with someone in heat intentionally. the other person should know their condition, and like it says in the Quran to close your village down if it has plague to save the other villages around you, the other person should’ve known to keep separated from those they can heat inflict upon.

heat typ 3: you just cant stop yourself from having sex or masturbating during your heat (basically a more extreme form of heat type 2, with or without pain if you go without). excuse you, you should be able to. WE ARE ABOVE OUR ANIMALISTIC URGES. this a) breaks your fast (if only because you should be eating and drinking to calm down), b) probably would be considered intentional (if you go through with it, i mean). 60 days supplication. your heat lasts 10 days of straight, um, lovemaking? well it’s not MY fault you need to fast 600 days in like 325, you should’ve known better.

heat type 4: the heat can be suppressed by taking a pill. take the pill during nighttime. you’re fine. fast not broken

heat type 5: the heat can be suppressed by taking an epipen-like shot just as its coming along. most scholars agree: injections during fasting hours, because they dont reach the stomach, dont break your fast. take it and continue fasting for the rest of the day

heat type 6: if you dont have sexual intercourse during your heat you may fall seriously ill or die. simple: the breaking of the fast is forgiven, no matter how you got the heat to begin with. life and its continuation is above all else in islam, and if you’re at a risk of dying… well slap me on the back and go fuck, i guess. you would need to supplicate one day for each day lost though, because the heat still isn’t a chronic condition

-----

if you’re muslim and disagree with anything ive said, PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU. please argue with me. we NEED this discussion to happen. just wait until dusk 😉

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Lasting Rivalries.

Word Count: 4.1k

Written for an anonymous commissioner. 

Synopsis: Izuku loves you, but he doesn’t like Katsuki very much. It’s just a shame he can’t separate one feeling from the other. 

TW: Kidnapping, Captivity, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Death, Delusional Mindsets, and Emotional Manipulation. 

[Part One] / [Part Three]

If you thought about it, you could still feel his hands on your skin.

It’d been hours since you were strapped to that bed, hours since he tormented Katsuki and made you suffer and mistook his delusional, crazed jealousy as love, or something close to it, at least. It’s been hours, and yet, if you closed your eyes, you could still feel his heatless touch, the way his skin seemed to leech the warmth from yours and how no amount of time and shivering could bring back what you’d lost. You’d done what you could to rid yourself of the feeling. After he… finished, you’d been too weak to try to run, and he’d been too love-struck to care if you did. As much as you’d wanted to, you hadn’t resisted as he undid your restraints, as he wrapped you in his suit jacket and dragged you - stumbling and reluctant - through the halls of his bunker.

When he brought you to a bedroom, dark and dim but only half as dirty as the room you’d come from, you hadn’t tried to push your way past him as he locked the door and explained that some of his men were untrustworthy, that ‘Kacchan’ might get loose and try to hunt you down, that the locks were for your own good. You’d flinched as he slid the slick, black keycard into the tiny slit, the one that’d keep you trapped here, the one you should be scrambling to find a way to pick, to break, or smash into such an unrepairable state, you and Izuku would both starve in here together. But, you hadn’t, and you’d lost the opportunity to.

There was a cramped, militaristic bathroom attached to the suite, and you’d stood under the rusted shower-head until the boiling water blistered your skin, then went cold, then went freezing, and you had to get out or face the repercussions of hypothermia. It’d been uncomfortable, it’d been painful, but it’d been a cleansing pain, the kind that cleared your head and made it a little easier to process the world around you, to differentiate what was happening now to what was already over, what you couldn’t change. What had left you sore and bruised and aching, but what you’d survived, and what you would get past, eventually. You’d get back to Katsuki, and then--

Oh, god. 

Katsuki.

You’d been moved to another bedroom, but if Izuku had any intention of doing anything his less-favored captive, you hadn’t been able to tell. No, he’d been left bound and muzzled to rot in his own affliction, and if Izuku’s aggressive apathy was sincere, you doubted he’d be treated with much kindness, going forward. It felt wrong thinking about your boyfriend like that, a victim who needed to be saved, someone who needed to be helped rather than the guiding hand you’d always known him as. He was a hero, and you weren’t. He was strong, and in so, so many ways, you couldn’t be. But, he couldn’t do anything heroic while he was restrained from wrist to ankle, so it was beginning to seem like you might have to be--

“Darling, are you alright?”

You stiffed as soon as you heard his voice, going rigid and scrambling for a weapon, a shield, something to defend yourself, but Izuku was already opening the bathroom door, stepping in before you had a chance to make a move. You could only be glad you’d already pulled on the clothes he was generous enough to provide, even if one of his white button-down shirts did little to separate you from his prying gaze. But, you doubted he’d be able to give you anything sturdy enough to block that out.

His expression softened when he saw you, his eyes lighting up with the faint, flickering glow he hadn’t bothered to hide when you first woke up, in his captivity. You tried to scowl, attempting to glare at the barren floor as imposingly as you could manage, but it couldn’t have been very effective. Izuku didn’t hesitate to approach you, to come too close, to think too little, only stopping when he was directly in front of you, one hand cupping your cheek and the other coming to rest on your arm, drawing circles in your bicep as if you were a scared animal that needed to be soothed. You supposed you were. Despite your budding plans, you couldn’t help but shiver so violently whenever he was near enough to meet your eyes, let alone put his hands on you.

He didn’t try to deny it. “Poor baby… You’re still scared, aren’t you?” A small, patronizing smile painted itself across his face, just barely pulling at the corners of his lips. You didn’t nod, didn’t try to answer, but he didn’t seem to need you to, either. With a quiet hum, he continued, speaking more to his paranoia than to yours. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re with me, now, and Kacchan’s going to be taken care of.” There was a pause, a playful wink. As if you should be proud you’d been important enough to earn a few hours of his time. “I’m won’t let anything bad happen to you. Certainly not by his hand, not again.”

You flinched at the mention of Katsuki, and this time, you were thankful that Izuku wasn’t paying attention to you. Not enough to care about such a small show of displeasure, at least. “You’ll take care of him?” You asked, hesitantly, still unsure how far you wanted to push his boundaries. “What do you mean? How long are you going to keep us here?”

“How long am I going to keep you here,” He corrected, softly, just beginning to tilt your head back. He let out a soft chuckle, as if the statement was a joke he’d been telling himself far too long for it to be truly, genuinely funny. “Just you. He’ll be lucky to make it through the night.”

You should’ve expected that. You knew it was going to happen. You knew Izuku had to be planning something for Katsuki, something violent and something inpermanent.

You should’ve expected that, but it still felt so awful to hear.

Now more than ever, you should’ve tried to stay calm. You should’ve been composed, and you should’ve accepted the development with a purse of your lips and strategic silence, the kind that’d mean anything Izuku wanted it to mean. But, he’d just threaten someone’s life, he’d just threatened your boyfriend’s life, and he should’ve counted him lucky you only got mad. It took every ounce of your self-restraint not to lunge at him, consequences be damned. “You can’t do that. You went through the effort of getting both of us, you can’t just--”

“I can do anything I want to.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it the kind of arrogant declaration made by someone with too much power for it not to go to his head. It was a truth, a fact. Or, Izuku thought it was, at least. “He’s been a thorn in my side for decades, and I’ve been much too sentimental when it comes to removing him. He’s a disgrace to the world of Heroes. He’s a disgrace to the world. I can’t justify giving him another chance to root himself under my skin.” A sigh, a languid shake of his head. He let go of your cheek, but having him take up your wrists and press your hands against his chest was only a minor improvement. “If he gets free, he won’t stop until I’m dead and you’re locked away somewhere so deep and somewhere so dark, you’ll be lucky to ever see sunlight again. I love you too much to risk losing you, but I promise, I’ll never be half as mean as Kacchan. If someone ever tried to take you away from me, I wouldn’t stop until their head was mounted in my office.”

“If you lay a finger on him,” You spat, fighting the urge not to pull away from him. “I’ll never think of you as anything but a monster--”

You didn’t get a chance to finish. This time, he didn’t let your little show of rebellion slide. Still, you heard the blow before you felt it - a sharp, sterile crack of skin against skin, and then the burning, the flare of heat, a spark that ignited everything from your jaw to the bridge of your nose. It took you a moment to process what he’d done. A moment too long, for such a simplistic offense.

He’d slapped you.

He’d slapped you.

It was so straight-forward, so impulsive, you weren’t sure whether to be angry or afraid or something between, something darker than either emotion could fully cover. He hadn’t hurt you yet, not in a way that’d be so difficult to hide behind a half-hearted justification and an excuse about love or protection or something lovely and rotten. You weren’t sure whether that made it better or worse. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Izuku didn’t seem sure either, if you were being honest. As soon as you moved to nurse your bruising cheek, he was on top of you, one of his arms draped around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest, leaving his free hand to card through your hair and flit around the edges of your minor injury, a worried scowl pulling at the edges of his lips. But, Izuku didn’t move to apologize, only attempting to open his mouth before whatever he was going to stay was muted by a grimace - obviously horrified, but far from regretful. When he finally broke the silence, his stance didn’t seem to change. Disappointed, but not shocked. Distressed, but resolute, at the same time.

“I.. I shouldn’t have done that,” He admitted, his posture straightening defensively. He pulled away, slightly, scanning over your face. As if he hadn’t already done so much more to harm you. “You just… you have to understand that this is for your own good, (Y/n). You’re going to be happy with me, I want you to be happy, but you’re going to have to let go of that stain, first. This is what he does to people.” There was a pause, a shake of his head, and slowly, he fell away from you, taking a step back when you failed to react. “He drives them apart. He makes people hate each other. You can’t trust anything he says. Bringing him back to my hideout was a mistake, I should’ve killed him in his sleep - clearly, he’s already worked himself into your brain.” Izuku bowed his head. It was the closest he’d come to showing his remorse, and you had a feeling it was the closest he would come. “I should’ve taken care of this sooner. I shouldn’t have drawn it out. I’m going to take care of it, I will take care of it. I’m not going to let him do anymore damage, not when you’re at stake.”

He turned, starting towards the bathroom door without another word. You didn’t think, you didn’t give yourself time to. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself from faltering, if you did.

Frantically, you stumbled forward, grabbing Izuku’s forearm and taking him by the sleeve, dragging him back towards you. Acidic bile rose in your throat at the thought of giving him what he wanted, but that didn’t stop you from clenching your eyes shut and forcing out the words, regardless of how much they burnt at your tongue. “Midoriya,” You mumbled, fighting not to stutter over such a simple sentiment. “I don’t think I can… I might not be able to… Could you---Could you stay?” Your grip tightened around his wrist, your nails digging into cloth and the thin, pale skin underneath. If Izuku cared, though he didn’t pull away, and you took that as a cue to keep going. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep, alone.”

The declaration was too hasty, too sudden, too flat and too desperate, but Izuku’s eyes still lit up, whatever skepticism he might’ve felt fading into a broad, careless smile. As enamoured as it was entrapping.

“Of course, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

~

Izuku slept. You didn’t.

You doubted you’d be able to. Even when you tried to relax, when you tried to close your eyes and put on a convincing act, you could never get further than curling into yourself and willing Izuku not to notice the way you trembled despite the humid air, how easy it was to make you shy away despite his touch being relatively innocent, considering what he’d proved himself to be capable of. He’d rambled on about he’d always be there for you, rambling off threats and the mutilations he’d be willing to commit in your name like bedtime stories, but for all his vows of protection and security, he’d been quick to fall silent as soon as he realized you weren’t contradicting him, anymore, his body limp and still half-slouched against your side. His weight was oppressive, and you doubted any amount of rest would aid the dark-bags dyed into the skin under his eyes, but it was fine, it was perfect. If anything, you should be glad he was so exhausted.

It would be easier to pick his pockets, when he was asleep.

It wasn’t a difficult task, something you’d done a dozen different times with drunk friends you thought you could trust with your keys, but you still froze in place every time he made a sound, even as your fingers slipped into his left pocket, the one you’d been staring down since he first showed you this shiny new cage. You went still as he let out a groan, stiffening as he burrowed himself deeper into your shoulder, but you knew you’d get what you want as soon as your fingers brushed against that warm, metallic shape. The key to the rest of his bunker, the key to getting out of here.

The keycard.

Your keycard, now.

Repositioning Izuku to lay against the headboard as gently as you could, you slipped off the cot, your bare feet hitting the pavement floor silently as you found the exit and pushed your prize into its designated slot, your hands steady for the first time that night. There was a small, high-pitched ping, but Izuku didn’t stir, didn’t wake up. You could only hope you’d be out of his reach, by the time he did.

The halls of his bunker were surprisingly empty, considering how expansive Izuku’s organization was supposed to be, but that didn’t stop you from pausing at every turn, holding your breath whenever you heard the sound of another voice, doing your best to imitate the way trained Heroes were supposed to move, when they didn’t get caught. You couldn’t be sure where Katsuki was being kept, hell, you barely knew which direction you should be going in, but there wasn’t much you could do, not beyond picking a hall and hoping it didn’t lead you into the stronghold of Izuku’s labyrinth. You had to be quiet, but fast. You had to be stealthy, but effective. You had to be so, so many things, but…

Apparently you couldn’t be any of those things.

As you moved to round another corner, your back pressed against the wall and heart struggling not to beat any louder than it had to, something latched onto your shoulder, jerking you backward as a hand shot out, sealing itself over your mouth as you haulted, caught between the reflex to scream and the awareness that you shouldn’t attract more attention than you absolutely had to. As a compromise, you didn’t make noise, but you struggled, thrashing and kicking and throwing your elbow into your assailant’s chest, but all your efforts earned were a tightened grip and a soft grunt, throaty but muffled, not meant to be heard.

“Really, babe?” He asked, his voice just as quiet as his sounds of discomfort. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

It took you a second too long to recognize that voice, much lower and much drier than the endearing arrogance you’d grown fond of. The voice you only heard while you were sitting in uncomfortable, plastic chairs beside hospital beds, on the scenes of attacks where the dust had already settled and the medics has long-since finished doing what they could. It meant exhaustion, it meant injury, it meant dehydration and desolation and suffering, but god, were you glad to hear it.

You didn’t even try to hold yourself up, not after you realized how many times you’d fallen into the pair of arms wrapped around you. No, you just went slack, letting a grimy, blood, glorious Katsuki support you as you went slack. It might’ve been the relief. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since the last time you’d seen him, but you'd been so, so worried, and just knowing he was still alive seemed to make all the difference in the world. It might’ve been the stress, the adrenaline, you didn’t think you really cared, not as long as you could twist around and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest as he pulled you closer, entangling his fingers in your hair and pushing a soft, lingering kiss into the top of your head, his touch so much less preformative than Izuku’s, so much more loving. You wanted to melt into it. You wanted to attach yourself to him and never, ever leave his side again. You wanted him to hold you, and you didn’t want anyone to rip him away again.

But, he was already moving back, taking you by the waist and scanning over you, looking for signs of further abuse. “What happened? Did he hurt you--”

“What happened to you?” It was all you could do not to yell, not to scream. You’d been assaulted, but he’d been cornered, he’d almost been killed. “Midoriya was going to… He made it sound like you were already half-way dead. I thought he was going to get to you before I did.”

“With the weak-ass lackeys he sent to do it? Those motherfuckers couldn’t put a scratch on me, not once the kiddie-gloves came off,” He scoffed, smirking confidently, if only to calm you down. You doubted there hadn’t been a fight, there was always a fight with Katsuki, but if he could brag about it, he could pretend things were fine for a few more minutes, long enough to run and make you think everything would be alright, too. “If Deku could kill me, he would’ve done it by now. You’ve got nothing to worry about, not when it comes to me.”

For the first time since you’d escaped from Izuku’s hold, you let yourself exhale, rigid tension melting off in waves. “Promise?

His grip loosened, but any hope you might’ve lost was quickly restored as his hands fell, taking up yours and squeezing lightly. “I promise.”

There might’ve been another hug, another kiss. There might’ve been one, or their might’ve been many, if you had another minute, another second, another moment. But, all too suddenly, all too realistically, Izuku or some force under his control was determined to separate you, this time in the form of flashing blue lights and sirens so loud, you could hardly hear Katsuki curse as he took up your wrist and started running.

You hadn’t known where to go, but Katsuki seemed to. Whether it was through luck, overheard information, or blind inhibition, he found his way to the exit, or, rather, what you had to assume was supposed to be the exit. You must’ve been underground, because the only way out seemed to be a thin, utilitisic staircase, wide enough for one person and so steep, a ladder might’ve been a more practical choice. The climb wasn’t what concerned you, though, you’d scale a mountain if it meant getting a little further from Izuku, but it didn’t seem like that was a choice you’d get to make.

You should’ve expected it. You should’ve seen it coming as soon as the bunker went into lock down, as soon as you’d been naive enough to leave Izuku alone without slitting his throat, first. It made sense. You hated it, but it made sense.

You wouldn’t make it through, because faster than you could run, a thick metal sheet was sprouting from either side of the doorway, nearly blocking your only way out.

You wouldn’t make it.

But, Katsuki could.

He moved the same time you did, scrambling to get a grip on your forearm as you pulled yourself free of his hold, barely bothering to work your way behind him before you shoved Katsuki through the narrow exit, forcing him through the small gap before he could process what you were doing. He might’ve yelled, might’ve tried to clamber his way back to you, but any sound was cut off by the make-shift door sliding into place. Even if any of his curses or rants or screams made it through the barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to hear them. Before you could think to run, before you could think to do anything, something sleek and smooth and strong wrapped around your neck, slamming your back into the nearest wall. A leather glove, as familiar as it was fatal.

You didn’t have to look to know it was Izuku.

You didn't have to, but it wasn’t like he was ever going to give you a choice.

“Congratulations,” He growled, the back of his hand pushing into the bottom of your chin, forcing your head back and keeping your eyes level with his, frozen terror forced to stand on the same ground as swirling, spiraling rage, a lightless flame that burnt at the edges of your vision and made your entire body feel cold. “You saved your boyfriend for a whole three seconds. What makes you think I can’t just send someone after him while I break every single one of your kleptomanic little fingers.”

You swallowed, but you didn’t hesitate. You knew what you were going to say. “You won’t.”

He grit his teeth. “And why’s that, angel?”

“Because if you do,” You started, letting your focus drop to the scuffed cement at your feet. “I’ll never stop hating you.”

There was a disgruntled frown, a move to pull away, but you were the one to cling to him, this time, to throw yourself into his chest and pray he didn’t notice how badly your shoulders were shaking, how much you didn’t want to go on. But, you had to. He’d kill Katsuki, if you didn’t. He might’ve killed you, if you didn’t. “Please, please, just let him go! Do this for me, and I swear, I’ll stay with you.” Izuku stopped, but he didn’t pry you off of him. You took that as a silent cue to continue, to grovel for all your life was worth. “I won’t try to run. I won’t try to fight. I won’t even talk back. You can have me, but you need to let Katsuki go.”

Despite your desperation, Izuku didn’t seem convinced. His fist balled around the collar of your shirt as he tossed a glance over his shoulder, signaling to one of his associates out of the group forming behind him -  a brunette on the shorter side, one who looked like she’d just rolled out of bed to run to Izuku’s aid. “Uraraka, get me their file. There could be a quirk--”

“There isn’t.” It was an instinctive correction, albeit one that burnt at the tip of your tongue as you choked it out. “I mean, you shouldn’t bother. I’m… I’m quirkless.”

There was a pause, a recalculation, and for the second time that day, you saw Izuku’s mind work to twist around a piece of new information, his expression softening as he rearranged formless parts into a more suitable, more agreeable whole. One he could accept, one that let him be angry with Katsuki rather than you. It was revolting. It was sickening. It was pathetic, but you didn’t try to push him away as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and burying his face in your hair, insecurities boiling the surface in tandem with the jagged, ugly shapes his delusions were so eager to take on. “Poor baby,” He sighed, the words almost lost to the airiness of his voice. “No wonder you needed to get Kacchan as far as possible, I wouldn’t be able to rest if I was in your position, either. You should’ve said something sooner, I would’ve been able to help.”

He continued to fuss, continued to lament your shared limitations as he pulled you through the forming crowd, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything but how his skin burnt where it touched yours. You wanted to pull away. You didn’t want to let him touch you, you didn’t want to let him pretend he cared about you, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t.

All you could do was bite your tongue and hope Izuku loved you more than he hated Katsuki.

[monipoka]

Addressing Content Warning Concerns

I am writing in response to points that were brought up concerning my recent post. If you haven’t read that post, you can find it here.

Be warned that this is a very long post (2.8k words). It deals with the topics of pedophilia and rape. Opinions expressed are my own; however, I do offer some resources for you to better educate yourself on this post’s content.

I will not provide a link to the user that responded as she had no ill intentions. Disclaimer if the said user reads this post, I write with peace and love at 4:00 A.M. There are a couple of places where I may sound aggressive or petty, but it is analytical and not meant to invalidate you or your opinions.

Red = user’s response with minimal changes (adjusted for grammar and clarification)

Black = my response

Part 1: Age Regression and Infantilization

To learn more about age regression, here are two lovely articles describing what age regression means medically and socially.

“Age regression [agere] is a form of coping meant to eliminate stress in potentially triggering situations. Agere is not a part of sexual play and never should be. I believe [Moni] is confusing agere for age play.”

This completely misses the mark. I understand that age regressors enter a younger psychological state often as a coping mechanism. There is nothing inherently wrong with age regression as therapy. My complaints are that people are FETISHIZING age regression. As stated in my post, age regressors enter the mindset of a child commonly called a “little space.” These individuals are to be treated like children as it helps them feel safe and loved.

In my experience on Tumblr, writers commonly misinterpret Daddy Dominant, Little Girl (DDLG) or Age Play (the larger, umbrella term) for age regression. For the purposes of explanation, I am going to be using DDLG and she/her pronouns. DDLG is a type of BDSM relationship where the dominant partner (male) takes on the role of a care-giver while the submissive partner (female) takes on the role of a child. This dynamic is pretend and intended for sexual interactions. Keyword here: pretend. While the submissive portrays childish behavior, she still has an adult mindset; therefore, she can give meaningful consent. Once writers describe the submissive slipping into “little space,” her mindset is corrupt as she has age regressed; therefore, she cannot give meaningful consent making the interaction non-consensual as she embodies a child.

“Infantilization is treating somebody as if they’re a child. For example, ‘babying’ someone is the best explanation for it. This, in my opinion, is not pedophilia because it’s not inherently sexual. If it IS sexual, I wouldn’t necessarily classify it as pedophilic, but it is questionable.”

Again, this misses the mark. In a non-sexual context, infantilization is completely okay. My complaints are that people are FETISHIZING the infantilization of characters. I used this term as an alternative language to age regression because I have encountered both on this site.

“Age Play, in my opinion, is pedophilic due to how the 'older’ of the partners is benefitting from it. So if [Moni] and I are thinking the same thing, but not really using the same terminology, then I agree.”

Age Play is a kink in the BDSM community between two consenting and level-headed adults.

Age Regression is characterized by regressing back to a younger headspace.

Sexualizing age regression is pedophilic because age regressors feel, act, and exhibit childlike qualities; they genuinely believe that they are a child.

If age play includes “little space,” then it is pedophilic because the submissive has age regressed.

“None of these is what I would consider illegal due to the fact that both parties are consenting adults. But age play definitely is pedophilic. But, obviously, if both people are adults, it can’t be considered illegal.”

I called pedophilia (and rape) illegal. In the eyes of the law, sexualizing age play--given that the individual is of age--is legal. This point used the transitive property of equality (Trans POE) to point out the hypocrisy in condemning pedophilia but supporting the fetishization of age regression. To clarify, it may not be illegal, but it is morally wrong.

“Infantilization and age regression aren’t inherently pedophilic because they revolve around the idea of a mindset and not physicality.”

This is contradictory to your previous point and only half true. Age regressors largely rely on physical objects (ie. clothes, stuffed animals, pacifiers) to feel safe. While the root of age regression involves a change in psyche, it is reflected in their appearance and environment.

Part 2: Dubious Consent and Non-consensual

To learn more about rape, here is a wonderful article on non-consensual sex.

“Secondly, I’m quite confused on what she [Moni] is saying regarding calling dubcon [dubious consent] and noncon [non-consentual] rape instead of dubcon and noncon.

They are rape, or at least some form of sexual assault, but I don’t think anyone’s trying to mask them from being as such.”

I whole-heartedly disagree. It is apparent by the staggering number of dubcon and noncon posts that people use these terms to try and justify writing rape because they consider it a “fetish.” The reason I am against these terms is that writers never specifically condemn them. Oftentimes, writers mix the content of the fic into their warning section. So, by writing ‘blowjob’ next to ‘dubcon’ it underscores the severity of the situation.

“Categorizing both of the two as 'rape’ could potentially end up being very damaging. Rape is a very triggering and harsh word for some people, which is why I believe a lot of people use non-consensual sex as a term to avoid potentially triggering people.”

Again, I believe that people use dubcon and noncon to try and justify their rape “fetish.” However, if using the term “rape” is triggering to some individuals and the terms “dubcon” and “noncon” are used as a substitution, why aren’t these writers coming out and explicitly saying that they do not support these types of interactions? Furthermore, why are they writing and sharing this content in the first place if they acknowledge it as rape?

“Also, I think it’s important to clarify whether the 'sexual assault’ in fiction is dubious or non-consensual. There’s a big difference between both parties being drunk in a fic (dubcon) and hard rape, and it’s important to distinguish the two in warning columns.”

Drunk people can’t consent. Both situations are rape. The “level” of rape that you refer to, being how consensual it is, is more damaging in my opinion. Because they were drunk, it means less than if they were sober. This perpetuates victim shaming. She was asking for it. She shouldn’t have drunk so much. Rape is rape. It is never okay. And one rape is never better than another.

“Dubcon is also very important to clarify in fics due to the fact that dubcon is only a fictional concept. It helps indicate the level of consent given in the fiction because someone could be not triggered by sex under intoxication but can be triggered by hard noncon.”

I’m going to use a quote I cited from this source because I feel that the writer describes dubcon more eloquently than I can: “What bothers me the most about this situation, and what I think you are partly getting at here, is when people say that their fic isn't "noncon" or they say it is "dubcon" or "noncon depending on your point of view." Come on! Have the guts to admit that what they're writing is rape. Dubious consent bothers me as a qualifier because if you aren't sure whether someone is consenting, you don't do it or it's rape. No excuses. So, I think that people should just bite the bullet and say, this is a rape fic.... If people want to write rape fic, go for it, and I will probably read it, but let's step up and acknowledge what it is we are writing. I take issue with these qualifiers because I think that it is far more insidious than out and out rape porn. At least when we say it is rape, then we can move on to the next step: saying it's wrong, just a fantasy, etc. But avoiding the label perpetuates the rape myths that have had such a damaging effect on victims and justice: did she enjoy it, she didn't really say no, she was a tease, they've done it before. None of those things matter, and when a person labels their fic, they need to stop pretending they do.”

Essentially, the writer is reiterating what I explained in my previous comment that rape is rape. Another statement that I found describes how damaging fiction can be in real life. While most readers understand that what occurred didn’t really happen, there are real-life consequences attributed to it: “...However, not everyone in fandom uses those terms in those ways. And I think that's a problem that we need to fix. Because, especially when situations that exist in real life and that would be called rape in real life are labeled "dubcon," I think it does real harm to us all.....We currently live in a culture where not fighting back - because, for example, the rapist has threatened to kill you, or someone else, or your pet, if you don't go along with it - will very often get a rape case overturned in court. Where judges and juries and god knows the popular media will pick out and analyze every detail of a person's life to determine whether they were asking for it, whether they secretly wanted it, whether they could have conceivably fought back more than they did, why they didn't scream, why they didn't report the blackmail that was used to control them, whether or not their "consent" might've been implicitly given by winks or nods or secret handshakes or a general miasma of sexual invitation. In other words, we live in a world in which rape culture, a thing we all unwittingly participate in at one time or another, works very very hard to label things dubcon when they're really noncon.”

“Most people 'romanticizing’ non-consensual sex are victims who are trying to gain some sort of control over their trauma, so they have every right to do so. If a victim of rape should have the ability to choose whether or not they want to read/write a noncon fic and if they don’t want to use the word rape because it makes them uncomfortable, they don’t have to and shouldn’t be forced to.

As a victim of rape and sexual assault, I find peace in having the control and ability to write about my trauma. It's a way for me to gain back control that I lost and the word rape does make me uncomfortable, it makes many victims uncomfortable, and if I prefer not to use that word then I should not have to if people know synonymous terms.”

Romanticize: deal with or describe in an idealized or unrealistic fashion; make (something) seem better or more appealing than it really is.

If you are writing/reading smut, you are trying to get off. If you are writing/reading dubcon/noncon smut, you are getting off to rape. Instead of writing/reading about how heinous rape is and how disgusting rape culture is, you write/read fics romanticizing rape since as a reader you enjoy the content to some extent: it is with your favorite character, it takes place in a cool universe, it got you horny, you felt good after reading it. Romanticizing rape is damaging to society as it subconsciously makes rape appealing. I doubt that is the intention, but you can’t deny that these underlying connections exist.

There is a difference between writing to cope and writing to entertain. My intention has never been to victim shame. But writing non-consensual sex between anime characters and a reader-insert is a form of entertainment. Remember the purposes of writing we learned about in elementary school? Yeah, I have a hard time believing that this is therapeutic. Journal therapy uses reflective writing to work through trauma and mental health issues. In sexual assault cases specifically, victims often write about their experience and/or letters to their perpetrator(s). However, if this is your way to cope, that’s fine. But writing rape fics is not the same as sharing rape fics.

“People know the severity of noncon and dubcon, which is what I think [Moni] is missing. No one is trying to not make noncon rape because it is rape. People know that it is. Most people just chose to say 'noncon’ to avoid unnecessarily triggering others.”

Do they? I think to my previous comments in this section, people use these terms to downplay the seriousness of rape.

“And there are far more 'consensual’ fics out there than noncon/dubcon fics, so I don’t exactly understand what [Moni] means by 'romanticize’ or 'normalize it.’”

Two comments up I describe what romanticization is and how it is being done in the community. I’m going to ignore the number part of this statement because I feel that there is no relevance; If there is a platform for rape fics and people are engaging with them, numbers don’t matter relative to another type of fic. I call that authors romanticize consensual sex because it is oftentimes not explicitly stated, and I think it should be. The character(s) and reader are in a relationship and sex is a byproduct of that (I do not consider this dubcon). Personally, I have found very few fics where explicit consent is written in. People sometimes think that asking for consent interrupts the flow and ruins a moment. Works of fiction have an impact on real life, and writing/reading about consent serves to reinforce healthy practices.

“Going off of that, I don’t understand what [Moni] means by 'fairly young’ audiences. I'm hoping that most 18+ consumers are, you know, eighteen or older (obviously that's not the case in all situations), and eighteen is a legal adult. Most people over the age of eighteen are very aware of what these terms mean, and they know right from wrong. So, there should be no need to clarify what 'noncon’ is for them.”

My point is that this community is relatively young. I have not encountered many writers or readers who are over the age of 25 (if you are, kudos). At this age, you lack experience. Many of these readers have never had sex or been in a relationship before. While you might know the difference between rape and consensual sex on paper, some of these things are more subtle--especially in person. You referenced drunk sex as something that you’d classify as dubcon although intoxicated individuals can’t consent. I recently read a fic where the reader was drunk and picked up at the bar by a character. He asked the reader if they consented to sex and they agreed. This is still rape as you cannot consent while intoxicated since alcohol impairs judgment. Regardless of enjoyment, which the reader experienced, this is still sexual assault. Can you see the confusion by labeling that dubcon? What is a young adult to think when they’ve been manipulated into sex but told they consented? It’s confusing, so these terms should be clarified.

Part 3: Fiction

To learn more about how fiction affects reality, here is this interesting TED-Ed animation that summarizes fiction’s impact. Also, I read this article that cites more examples.

“Also, our writing shouldn’t have to equate 'good practices,’ because a healthy-minded individual knows how to separate fiction and reality. Give people the freedom to write about whatever they want, whether it’s in private or not, that's what fiction is for.”

You claim that you don’t want to use the word rape to trigger people, so you acknowledge that not all readers are health-minded as they could be suffering from trauma or mental illness. Likewise, some individuals can’t discern fiction from reality.

More importantly, there is a connection between fiction and reality.

“Finally, I don't think we should be so open with connecting real-life issues with fictional ones. No one is going to become a rapist or want to be raped because they read fiction on it unless they’re truly a rapist or have been raped. Equating fictional works to real-life problems is a little insulting, whether [Moni] intended it to be or not.”

Watch the video and read the article. Fiction directly impacts culture and society. It may be insulting, but it’s factual.

“Because in the end, in rape fiction, no one actually got raped. In pedophilic fiction (I don’t support it don’t get me wrong), no one was actually a victim of pedophilia. Because they’re all fictional.”

That doesn’t make it okay. Again, my problem is that writers ROMANTICIZE these topics which reflect poorly on society.

“If someone is concerned about pedophilia and rape fiction, I believe it would be best to work towards real-life solutions to those real-life problems compared to criticizing fiction authors.”

If you’re concerned about pedophilia and rape FICTION, I’d hope you’d criticize FICTION authors. Honestly, this seems to be a diversion tactic to avoid accountability.

Part 4: “No Offense, but You’re Wrong About Everything”

“Overall, I think [Moni] had good intentions, but it was poorly worded.

You pose a counter argument to each of my points and make it sound like I did not educate myself beforehand. You then deflect to talking about rape and pedophilia in real-world context to downplay the severity of pedophilia and rape in fiction.

I sound petty here, and I do not mean for my words to hurt. I wish that there was some communication beforehand since it seems that there was confusion. If my original post was unclear, I hope my comments help.

Conclusion

This is for everyone:

Please check out the resources I provided and do your own research to understand the situation before forming your own opinion.

No hate to the writer of the response. I just wish you would have reached out directly for clarification before taking my words out of context and assuming their meaning.

[charlierejouis]

Quick Notes: Chapter 196-198

I'm two weeks behind! Let's get through this.

Chapter 196

I feel like the idea that the Dark Stars could beat the Shining Stars WHILE BOARDING THE EDENS ZERO is a big oversight.

The old "self-destruct and launch destructive software" trick from over 100 chapters ago. Didn't expect to see this coming.

We know Killer is a villain because, despite everything that he's done up to this point, he doesn't believe robots have hearts.

Hey, they found Rebecca in the Distortion World. (Yes, I've started Platinum recently.)

It's cool to see Shiki and Weisz team up on something. Not sure this has ever happened in the series.

Now that they're back on the colosseum, let's check up on Homura.

Never mind, let's check up on Sister.

I understand Clown's mindset, but yikes.

You guys don't get credit for taking out Witch. I wouldn't even give credit to Ziggy for Witch.

Back from vacation in the Aoi Cosmos, it's my guide to Mashima’s School of Despair:

Instill fear in subject. (Set up battles between EZ Crew and Dark Stars.)

Give them reason for hope. (Shiki beats Wizard relatively easily.) 

Make the situation worse. (Clown and Killer win their fights and make their way onto the EZ.) 

Leave subject with room for hope. (Hermit seemingly defeats Killer.) 

Crush hope like a grape. (All the Shining Stars seem to be taking L's.) [YOU ARE HERE] 

Everything ends up alright. (You should already know what happens.)

Chapter 197

Classic villain monologue before they're proven wrong. Can't wait to see how this is proven to be too soon.

I'm not a fan of these "flashbacks to time we could have seen in real-time but we were too busy watching something else go down" moments.

"I call my armor the 'peerless armor'." "How gaudy..." Basically.

This might be a question we ask after this fight: when will Homura consider herself to have surpassed Valkyrie Yuna?

With this fight, I hope we start making the comparison between Erza and Homura more.

I don't care how the ships end up happening. Shiki and Homura is my favorite dynamic in the series, bar none.

Chapter 198

"There's a man who values peace in the cosmos"

Did Hermit manage to make her way to the Etherion Door? That's impressive.

There's that payoff! I wonder if the anime will connect this to the earlier moment if/when this gets animated.

Mashima decided to drink his extra horny juice before making this chapter.

Thank goodness Sister isn't playing into Clown's game of killing his dog.

I'm still worried about Sister's use of training.

"We are the superior successors to you lot." Homura just beat Brigadine, Killer only got Hermit through cheese, and Shiki beat Wizard with a tenth of his power. Quite the upgrades, huh?

"Have a good nightmare." That's a dope line to have here.

"I'm not into this getting-tied-up crap..!! You are, and you know it!" Kink shaming

Honestly, "Shiki came to her rescue" is more of a crew-wide thing at this point, not a Rebecca thing.

Rebecca's nightmare would be watching her friends die. So, basically chapters 82-84.

It's good to know that Mashima still can do body horror when he wants to. Better to know he rarely wants to.

"I even have a legit medical counselor's license. Got it online though." How much does this matter in a universe like EZ?

Sister's final pose looks like she finished an all-out attack. (Can't wait to be able to play Persona 5 on Switch in 2 years!)

Well, I'm caught up. If you want an explanation for why this is how it is, read more! If Quick Notes is all you're here for, then see you!

I've been doing Quick Notes for quite some time. I've done it with very little prep time and while I've been deathly sick. While the past 3 weeks have been pretty busy IRL, my real issue has nothing to do with me. It has to do with Kodansha.

As some of you might know, the SimulPub for seemingly all of Weekly Shonen Magazine has been put on pause. I've heard there are some screwy things happening on different sides involving translators. Whether or not this has anything to do with that is anyone's guess. At any rate, official translations of EZ are on indefinite hiatus.

I've been using the official translations for Quick Notes, even when I did this for Fairy Tail years ago. I've read the fan translations, but I prefer using the version that supports the creator to make this happen. It took me a while to get to the point of deciding to use fan translations. However, with FT Month coming soon, I figured I can use them while we wait for the official translations to come out. 

Though, this probably means I don't have an excuse to go do the ones for FT's sequel... joy...

At any rate, see you!

[leviathan-dee]

Okay how about a drabble where Vergil motivates his female s/o who is struggling to do her assignments? Can be sfw or nsfw depending on the suitability of the topic and I may or may not having this motivation problem 😂

Aii!! I’m so sorry this took so long 😓 Tbh, I saw nsfw and took this as an opportunity to get my simp train going. So here goes, a lil bit of...

°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· 𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓮 °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.·

Motivational Lessons

Vergil x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Word Count: 1,613

Fumbling on an assignment that was due in less than a week was admittedly not how you wanted to spend your days off. You were surrounded by countless closed study books, dried out pens from their disuse, and an empty word document, a cursor blinking quizzically at your inactivity. It’s been almost three agonizing hours since you began your search for a drop of motivation. Alas, no such luck. Even the cup of tea that your partner brewed at the beginning of your session remained unmoved, the condensation on the mug dripping down to pool onto the blank papers.

You sighed, inadvertently drawing Vergil’s attention.

“You are troubled.” Without lifting his gaze from his beloved hardcover of poetry, he spoke, the comment blending between lines of a question and a statement. You sighed once more, carding your fingers through your hair.

“What gave you that idea?” Your slight burst of annoyance felt like whacking the hornet’s nest, however Vergil’s reply was more gentle and soft spoken than before.

“The lack of movement for the duration of your coursework. What gives, my sweet?”

“I just can’t get into the mindset. I think I’m too stressed with all that is going on.”

Snapping his book shut, he uncrossed his legs and tilted forward, directing his attention now completely to you. The pose he assumed was akin to a cat, ready to pounce on its prey. Perhaps you were imagining it, but the sudden mischievous glint in his eyes unnerved you just as much as his predatory pose.

“Perhaps you are in need of encouragement?”

“I’ll bite. What do you have in mind?” You swallowed thickly, anticipation building like a steady flow of water. Only time will tell if you would regret your words.

“Let me demonstrate.” Moving with a feline grace, his arm swayed in the opposite direction, guiding you to stand from your seat. Once you obeyed, he propped himself upon the cushioned surface, his stern expression morphing into a minuscule smirk.

“Sit,” he presented you his lap by patting his thigh, “you are tense. A prime reason as to why you simply cannot get anything done.”

With an incredulous expression, you gawked at the sudden change in his demeanour. Admittedly, it was a bad idea to disobey the devil, knowing your previous experiences containing punishments of the euphoric kind. You planted yourself comfortably upon his leg, feeling his arms securely tighten around your waist. His palms were warmer than usual. In fact, you noted that his gloves were off. Strange...

“Now focus on your assignment. Need I encourage you, I know exactly what to do.” The growl that rolled off his tongue caused a shiver to travel through every fiber of your being. A wickedness entirely indescribable churned deep within his gaze. It wasn’t often you experienced that; Vergil knew to reserve this part of him for special occasions.

Apparently, this was one such occasion.

The cursor continued blinking, it’s manner now seeming wary. You stared at it, wondering what words might flow from your already exhausted mind. There were so many jumbled thoughts. Some from the carnal closeness between you and your beloved, and very few were of the coursework itself. Vergil propped his chin upon your shoulder, breathing down your neck. Was this a warning? Or encouragement?

“Need I promote your thoughts? Or is your mind elsewhere?” As you expected, it was neither. This was a promise; an invitation. For both of your benefits.

You could feel a smirk ghost his lips, as his hands continued to rest on your waist possessively, their grip tightening to an almost uncomfortable pressure. Unsure of whether to begin your coursework, or to let fate take its course, your fingertips started their sluggish crawl across the keyboard. Vergil seemed to ease his grip, instead shifting to your right thigh, resting his warm palm on top of the plump surface. This made you suck in a breath between your teeth which only Vergil would notice. No matter how much you wanted him to simply have his way, this was a good opportunity to finish what you’ve started studying-wise.

�� 

After two paragraphs of constant erasing and rewriting, you sighed, irked at your own scattered mind. Evidently, Vergil watched your entire tirade at the keyboard. It was almost as interesting as a tumultuous nineteenth century drama. Every few words, he hummed in approval, reading and checking your text. However, your gusto seemed to slow to an almost complete stop. You could feel his mischievous smile once again grace his visage.

Bringing his palm up to cradle your chin from behind, he directed your vision behind you, his own smoldering gaze melting you from the inside.

“Is that it? You’re giving up, my sweet?”

“No, I just need a break-” You were cut off by a feathery caress at your loin, promoting whatever feverish thoughts that waited on the cusp of your mind. Instinctually, you leaned into the touch like a starved animal. Vergil seemed to enjoy your reaction, knowing full well that only his fingertips can encourage such a visceral response from your body.

“A break, you say? Let me assist you,” he purred in your ear, heated breath only intensifying the sensation of his digits running circles achingly close to your clothed core.

You couldn’t withhold your lewd mewls, letting them cascade out of your lungs as Vergil’s teeth began sinking into your bare shoulder, followed by promises of ecstasy in the form of trailing kisses upon your skin. His hands teased at your waistband, slipping beneath the fabric to find his goal. Your own fingers searched for purchase, not to lose yourself entirely to this hedonism. They found their way to the blue devil’s hair behind you, and encouraged his tongue to trek along the flesh of your shoulder.

A maelstrom of pleasure spread through you as Vergil’s hand began lavishing your folds with longing strokes. The sheer playful movements of his digits were teasing, daring you to release your tension all over them, there and then. It was almost shameful how easily he could elicit such a reaction from your body. How he forced these noises from you, the pressures of assignment life fading away into nothingness.

Approving hums vibrated within Vergil’s chest, resonating against your back, provoking the throbs deep in your core. You moaned in turn, giving him the greenlight to plunge into your heat with two digits. Admittedly, you were now certain this was his plan all along, usually wearing fingerless gloves even outside of combat. Besides, he seemed too eager to get you in this state.

That sneaky devil.

Nevertheless, that motion was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Your walls tensed instinctually around his fingers as they shamelessly pumped in and out. Vergil knew exactly the spot to caress, seeing how your frame arched itself to accommodate his own. God, he loved seeing you in this state; At his mercy.

“Y/N. You will finish this assignment, as I will finish you. Is that clear?” The sovereign tone with which Vergil spoke alone could send you spiralling over the edge. You nodded eagerly, desperate to release the tide of pleasure rocking against your swollen walls.

Observing your lethargic demeanor, and your eyes glazed over with depravity, the devil decided to send you into paroxysms of pleasure by focusing two hands on your heat. With one swirling your bud, and the other continuing its rhythmic movements inside you, his smug visage in the now blacked out screensaver of the monitor observed your near undone state.

“How are you feeling? Relaxed yet? Encouraged to do your studies? I won’t have you failing. Not in this state.” To your surprise, Vergil's smirk never faltered. His tongue continued to play upon your shoulder and neck as you encouraged his efforts with your incoherent cries.

“Vergil-'' Your fragmented moans, and the bucking of your hips against his working hands only prompted him to intensify his tirade. He left you kicking helplessly, trying to find an object to perch against with your legs, and swing your hips in any direction if only to lessen the overstimulation. Blank papers landed to the ground, and pencils and pens alike tumbled from the force of your pleasured kicks against the furniture. Even the untouched tea spluttered all over the desk, staining amber upon the surface of the paper beneath. But you didn't have a care in the world; right now your focus was on the endless waves of gratification you were bestowed upon by the blue devil.

All of your previous worries seemed to melt away. Even the stress of creeping deadlines and sleepless nights dissipated into a mere sliver of a memory. Your rippling muscles beneath Vergil's hands eased, his own limbs holding you in place as you fell limp from exhaustion on his lap. With a tender trail of kisses along your neck, and the last one behind your ear, he hummed and coiled his arms around your waist to pull you into a warm hug. You hummed in return.

"Was that encouragement enough? Or do I have to resume this motivational lesson?" Vergil purred in your ear, a hint of playfulness meandering in his voice.

"Hmm, I am still feeling a bit tense." You rolled your shoulders to accentuate your 'discomfort', expecting Vergil to react accordingly. And react he did, his immense strength scooping you into his arms from behind, your body weighing a feather on his frame. With proud steps and a teasing expression, he marched towards your bedroom, a saccharine smirk dancing on his lips.

"I was hoping you'd say that. You'll be writing books once I'm done with you, my sweet."

[dollfaced-erin]

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!reader)

A/n: Hi! Rin here, sorry I’ve been a little late, but I have to present to you a few facts before we go down with the story! I might have not mentioned the specifics of the character, but apparently Reader would be around 153 cm in height, and Sebastian 173cm. Just gives off the tall vibe, don’t you think? Their ages,,, I suppose Sebastian would be 25 and the reader 23. This is based on previous chapters and the height of Abigail’s sprite.

She’s quite perky, being the new girl and all, but if you don’t like this, then I can change her personality. 

The lines in here are mainly extracted from Sebastian’s main lines in the game, so I’ll have the Reader’s lines orbit around those.

OH, IF YOU GUYS WANT RANDOM HEADCANNONS, I’LL DO THOSE TOO AS A SIDE PROJECT

CHAPTER TWO

It was another sunny day, and (Y/n) was already up and down onto the field. Her hand clutched a few empty packets of parsnip seeds and the other held a watering can. They were given to her as a starter kit, along with some run down tools her late-grandfather had left for her in the house.

The Earth was tilled and the seeds were planted. Now, all that’s left is to water the crops and she’ll be clearing the farm next. 

She wiped the sweat rolling down her face with the back of her hand, quite exhausted from exerting her energy to nurse her farm. There was still a lot to do, and she had to run extra jobs to gain income as she wait for her crops. 

She had to clear her farm, she had to run and see Pierre for more seeds, she had to meet this man named Willy who wanted to meet her, there was still so much to do and she had no idea if she could finish it all!

She sighed, but she knew this path was much better than working as an office lady at Joja.Co, working till she dropped, literally. And there was endless mountains of paperwork waiting for her.

Maybe she should water her plants, then run off to Pierre’s and down to the docks, she planned in her mind. She clutched the metal tool in her hand, determined to finish her plans before the day ends.

As she watered her plants, she hadn’t realized that someone had accidentally wandered off to her farm, from absentmindedly walking as they thought of random things. But when a clad boot had landed by the entrance of her farm, it was starting to look tidy.

And that’s when they realized that the abandoned farm they usually hung out at was now housed the young woman currently watering her plants in the field.

“Abigail?” called out the girl with (h/c) hair, her head raising as she spotted the purple-haired girl by the entrance of her farm. “Oh, hi, (Y/n)! Sorry, I was just walking and accidentally ended up here,” she said, flustered.

“Ah, it’s fine! You did tell me you loved exploring the overgrown fields, right? You could come over anytime you like!” the farmer girl said, a little smile on her face. It was still morning and in Spring, but Abigail could see the red cheeks from tirelessly working on the farm on her face. 

She felt a bit bad that it was only a girl that had to manage the whole land, so she made up her decision in her mind.

Walking over to the panting girl, she asked, “Want to hang later?”

The girl’s face quickly morphed into a bright smile. “Sure thing! Just let me finish up here, and I’ll be right with you,” she said and began to hurry up on her task.

Soon enough, the two girls were strolling down the pathway heading towards the town square. (Y/n) had cleaned her hands earlier after doing farm work, but to Abigail, her appearance was so clean, it was as if she hadn’t done any work on the farm.

“So, where to first?” Abigail asked. (E/c) eyes looked over at her green ones, peering curiously. “Hm, maybe to  your family’s store. I would like to get some new seeds,” (Y/n) said, arms by her sides.

Abigail shrugged. "Don’t you want to buy those at Joja Mart?” she asked curiously. She wasn’t trying to fail her family business, but she wanted to know this girl’s mindset before deeming her as ‘good’ in her books.

“Well, I’d rather boost the local economy. After all, have you not seen the prices on seeds?! They’re 15g more expensive than the ones at Pierre’s! Plus, they’re at better quality! I’d choose Pierre’s over theirs any day!” she groaned out as the two stepped into her father’s shop. 

“Ah, it’s farmer (Y/n)!” her dad greeted cheerfully from behind the counter. “Hi, Pierre!” she greeted back.

But the farmer never realized that Abigail’s face had reddened at her remark towards Joja Mart. Rather, she felt as if it were directed at the entire Joja.Co themselves. The way she had dissed them really was interesting to her, she had never seen someone so against the Joja Mart before in the entire town.

“Hey, Abigail?” the girl called once she returned from the counter. “Do you think we’ll be able to get to Robin’s in time?” she asked, and Abigail nodded. 

“What for?” she asked, looking at the slightly smaller girl as she stuffed her seeds into her red backpack. “Ah, I need her to build a silo for me. It’s a shame to just cut down all that grass when you can actually store it for the farm animals, no?” she said as Abigail nodded in agreement.

The two headed off to the mountains, reaching the house just half an hour before business hours were over. The two breathed in relief. It was quite a hike up, and they were running to reach up in time.

“Sorry for dragging you into this, Abigail,” the farmer panted, but Abigail laughed in response. “No worries, I was the one who wanted to tag along with you,” she said, as the two went to the door.

“Hey hey! It’s Abigail and (Y/n)!” Robin greeted just as the two had stepped foot inside the house. “So, (Y/n) how is the woodwork holding up? You OK?” the orange haired woman said cheerfully. (Y/n) nodded, as she approached the counter. 

“Yeah, everything’s just fine!” she said, placing her hands on the counter. “So, the older woman began, ”What’s up?”

The (h/c) girl and the woman began discussing farm plans and the location of the silo. The way the girl was so efficient and brave really pulled Abigail. She sat there as she watched the two converse, that was, until a certain raven haired figure emerged from the basement.

Sebastian sparred a glance to the girl and his mom, before giving a lazy wave over to Abigail. She waved back in response, following him out to chat. But before that, she tapped (Y/n) on the shoulder, informing her she’ll be outside and went well on her way.

“You guys seem to be friends,” Sebastian said, not even turning back. His hands were in his pockets as he made his usual way to the lake by his house. “Well, yeah. I accidentally ended up on her farm. We hung out for a bit,” she concluded simply. 

“I’m kinda interested in her, though,” Abigail admitted, earning a snort from Sebastian. “Dude, she’s like. I dunno, younger than you?” he teased, making the purple haired girl slap him on the back. “So not true. We’re both 23 this year,” Abigail defended.

“Plus, I know you want to talk to her as much as I do,” she teased, making him tense up. “What makes you say that?” he said, pulling out his box of cigarettes and a lighter. “Well, she is from the city, don’t you want to ask her how is it there?”

“I--” “Hey, (Y/n)!” Abigail interrupted him, waving at her to come over. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her. It wasn’t like Abigail to be like this around other people, nonetheless someone entirely new to the city, Maybe there was something about her behind her bright and cheerful demeanor. 

“--it’s really a shame about the mines though,” the farmer said, making Sebastian look over at her in curiosity. “I want to see what’s in those mines. Maybe I could find something useful for my use,” she said distantly, staring at the pile of boulders that piled in front of the cave entrance. 

“Haven’t you heard? There are monsters in there,” Abigail said, making Sebastian feel like hitting her to shut up. What good was it to tell her that and risk her moving out if it were true?

But the girl shrugged in response. “Wouldn’t it be more exciting and adventurous if monsters did reside in the caves? I mean, it would prove more of a challenge,” the girl said with a smile on her face, shocking both Sebastian and Abigail. 

His dark eyes widened as a similar scene played in front of his eyes. Three children and a small voice. “I want to explore those caves one day!”

“(Y/n)...was it?” Sebastian asked, the girl humming in agreement. A light chuckle passed his lips.

 “We’re gonna get along just fine!” Abigail cheered, as she slung her arm across (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“What were you going to say, Sebastian?” she asked, but the male just shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

“It’s nothing.”

[superbalien]

the other pictures I saw: a russian soldier died, his face looks so young, like 16-18yo only, and a pic of  several 18yo ukraine kids had to join the army..I’m a mother, I actually tried not to see more pics from the war, it’s too difficult for me not to feel deeply sad!

then I saw that blade head women pic!

Geese! Putin’s russia, listen! 

Withdraw fully from Ukraine Now!

GIVE PEACE BACK TO THE WORLD! this evil war is not about 2 countries only, we are on same earth!

Always using nuclear weapons to threaten others just show how weak russia is, does Russia want hundreds of thousands of life’s BLOODS on their hand for generations?! 

no civilized country would threaten others with nuclear war unless it’s to protect the earth!

So again please get ride of this ill-educated mindset could you?! if you think others threaten you, that’s bc your mental health got a serious problem! a doctor is surely needed! take some medicine! ok!

 russian General and foreign affairs ppl I believe most of them are good-hearted ppl they want to protect the country n patriotism is never bad! but protecting Putin’s russia is definitely a different matter!

 we got one earth for our human to live ONLY ( yea living in other planets is centuries later thing!) THIS is why everybody has the responsibility to protect the earth and human living on it, not let one lunatic person to get US ALL SINK TO LOW human kind! ( like those terriststs! n religion extremist!)

All other countries, not the west, listen, world ppl are willing to follow Any of you who is outstanding to LEAD US! but did you think you’re outstanding now? 

the west has many weakness but so far they are the earth only choice ! you think they had planned to take the world in their hand!? to lead the world?! THEY ARE NOT THE Best brilliant human! The answer is NO N NO! it’s the world want them here n there, I wish your professors n brains understand this logic completely! 

ignorance can be educated! incompetent can be helped by others! but sick humans all needed is a doctor!

Other countries, not west I ask you, stand with us, the true human being! tell world ppl we still have sanity hopes love families n ppl in this world!

by doing so, you start the first step to lead the world! Putin’s russia n Putin’s war had lost all humans sanity! it’s really sad!

Russia/Putin, Admitting you made a serious mistake is not losing face, is not losing the war you started! is What true human will do! human isn’t perfect we often made mistakes! I think animals even they don’t talk,many of them know what they do and not do!    (yes, I recently had some gold fish friends!)

Sanctions are not bully, not to destroy russia but want you know THERE ARE UNVIERSAL SHAME about the human rights infringement! also there are WAYS to talk like true humans!

A good negotiator of course can grain/win a transaction on the business desk! Many  “political “ppl are lacking of real life experience , this is why they speak like illiterate!

west ppl are all business ppl this is 60%good n 40%bad at same time! but what is good about them is all of their educated one can talk, like, a, human!

(I I)

[thecasperanfamily]

Can we get a sock monkey part two? Maybe taking place in the present?

(Link to Part One)

I am sooooo sorry about the delay on this one. First I had a solid week of ADHD Brain Doing Its Thing, then a dentist appointment, then my bedroom flooded, then a migraine...ANYWAYS I hope this was worth the wait!

~~~~~

They say that behind every great wizard, there is a great witch. Whether or not this was a universal truth or just a nice-sounding sentiment someone came up with to discourage squabbling between witches and wizards, Lin couldn’t be sure. But he did know that it was true in his father’s case, if nothing else. Hisirdoux Casperan was an immensely powerful wizard in his own right, capable of feats of magic unlike anything seen since the age of the great Merlin Ambrosius. But he was also what Lin’s mother liked to affectionately call “a mess. An absolute disaster. Gods, it’s a marvel you’ve survived this long.” To which Douxie would inevitably reply with, “The only marvel is you, my love.” And Lin would always immediately leave the room because he had no desire to witness whatever came after that. But Douxie did have a point, albeit one that felt a bit lost underneath all the sap and sentimentality. The fact of the matter was that Master Wizard Hisirdoux Casperan likely couldn’t be a Master Wizard without his wife. Archie could protect Douxie in battle, Nari could heal and encourage him, but Zoe was their last and strongest line of defense. Be it a desperate struggle against an ancient and horrifying monster or simply keeping the household running, when all others fell, she continued to stand, often pulling them back up and keeping them on their feet with her own strength. Douxie once said that he could face his own fears because he knew Zoe was standing fearless by his side.

In hindsight, he really should have chosen his words more carefully. Because when Lin handed his mother his oldest, most beloved toy from childhood and asked her to repair it, “fearless” certainly wasn’t what came to mind when beholding the look of intense discomfort on Zoe’s face as she eyed the offending object.

“...It looks normal to me,” she said stiffly.

“It....there’s a massive rip on her side?” Lin replied hesitantly. “That’s not supposed to be there. And Comet tore off one of her eyes, too.” The boy shifted awkwardly, still cradling the abomination in his hands, since Zoe had refused to touch it. “I-I mean, I know it’s stupid, but Georgina--uh, I mean, this old thing...it means a lot to me. Been with me for a long time, and all. I just--”

“Fine, fine, I’ll patch it up for you,” Zoe blurted, snatching the cursed thing from his hands. “Now go get ready for school. You’re running late as is.”

“...It’s Saturday,” Lin reminded her.

“Then go bother Archie or something. I can’t fix this thing if you’re breathing down my neck the whole time. Restorative magic requires concentration.”

“...I’ve seen you piece a broken mug back together in five seconds flat while also fighting the endgame boss of War Dudes 7.”

“Out, Lin.”

“Alright, alright!” He raised his hands placatingly and swept out of the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder “Thanks, Mom!”

The moment he was out of sight, Zoe pitched the sock monkey as hard as she could against the opposite wall. It landed on the counter with a sad little flop, looking no less abominable for its current state of disrepair.

“I hate you,” she told it quietly. “I know you know I do. I can see it in your one remaining eye. I’ve endured your mockery of me for the past seventeen years for Lin’s sake, but this...” She raked her fingers through her bangs furiously. “...Oh, get a grip, Zoe,” she muttered. “It’s just a stuffed animal. It’s only ever been a stuffed animal. It will never best me. I’m one of the greatest hedgewitches of my time. I am Zoe Casperan, I am she who remains when the masters have fallen, I am--”

“Introducing yourself to someone, are you?”

Douxie was very fortunate that he did not touch Zoe when he spoke up from behind her, because the pulse of electricity that surged through her veins would have certainly laid him flat on his back for at least a week. As it was, Zoe’s wand was pointed at his throat before he could so much as blink, a few angry pink sparks spitting from the end.

“Woah, woah, okay, nope, bad time for jokes, I got it! Take it easy, love.”

“Don’t do that!” Zoe hissed, stuffing her wand back into her belt as her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “I could have hurt you.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” Douxie replied, taking one of her hands and pressing an apologetic kiss to her knuckles. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.”

“Stop being sweet.” Zoe grumbled. “It’s distracting.”

“Distracting you from what, exactly?”

“Lin wants me to patch up that...thing that Barbara gave him all those years ago.” She flapped a hand at the sock monkey sprawled pathetically across the counter.

“I didn’t even realize he still had that,” Douxie remarked, taking in the damage with a critical eye. “Mm. She’s certainly seen better days.”

“I want it to see worse,” Zoe seethed. “...But Lin still loves it, gods only know why.”

“Bit of a moral conundrum, eh? Take your vengeance on your worst enemy and break our son’s heart, or grant her mercy for Lin’s sake.”

“This isn’t funny, Douxie.”

“It is, just a little bit.”

“You know I can’t stand even looking at that reject voodoo doll. How am I supposed to cast a restoration spell when all I want to do is douse this thing in gasoline and throw it on a bonfire?”

“Attempting a restoration spell with that mindset would likely end very badly,” Douxie agreed. “My feelings towards the lady in question are far less hostile. Perhaps I should take this one for you.”

“No! No, I-I...” Zoe sighed and ran a hand through her bangs yet again. “...I don’t want this thing to get the better of me. I’ve never backed down from a challenge before, and I definitely don’t want this to be my first time. Besides, you’re pretty sloppy when it comes to restoration magic. Lin will know right away who performed the spell just by looking at it, and I don’t want him to feel like I let him down.”

“With the utmost respect, Zoe,” Douxie replied hesitantly. “I think Lin would prefer a messy patch job over the many ways this spell could backfire if you’re the one performing it. You do understand that swallowing your pride isn’t the same as cowardice, right?”

“Pride or not, I will not let my son experience the shame of knowing his mother was defeated by an ugly stuffed animal,” Zoe countered. She stalked up to the counter and arranged the bedraggled sock monkey carefully, nose wrinkling in disgust as she ran her fingers over the material.

“Zoe, darling--” Douxie tried to protest again.

“Shush. I need to concentrate.”

“I really think you ought to let me--”

“I said shush, Douxie. I know I can do this.” She brandished her wand and, with a few quick motions, guided her aura to surround the sock monkey, which began to float a few inches off the counter. She pushed back against the wave of revulsion that crashed over her as her spirit made contact with the cursed object, and managed to spit the spell out through clenched teeth. “Refectio.”

The moment the spell was activated, Zoe knew she had made a mistake. The feeling of disgust she had tried so hard to stifle refused to detach from her aura. Her magic flowed out of her in a hot, angry rush, and the sock monkey writhed and contorted as though possessed.

“Zoe!” Douxie pulled her back from the counter, arms wrapping around her as his own aura flared defensively. The sock monkey gave one final shudder, then flopped back onto the counter.

“It’s fine!” Zoe insisted. “Look, see? It’s fixed.” Indeed, the sock monkey appeared to have been restored to mint condition. The rip had closed, the missing eye had returned from wherever Comet had hidden it, and the old stuffing had softened and puffed out again. “I told you I could do it.”

“That could have been a disaster, Zoe,” Douxie scolded.

“Any spell has the potential to be a disaster,” she argued. “But I had to try. And I feel so much better now that--”

The sock monkey twitched.

Douxie’s arms tightened around her, and Zoe instinctively brandished her wand again. The toy twitched again. Then it shuddered. Then it flopped over. And then, like a phantom from a nightmare, rose to its feet and slowly turned to face them, black button eyes cold and lifeless.

“...Okay, yeah, this is a disaster,” Zoe breathed. The sock monkey hovered in place for a moment longer.

Then suddenly, it was zooming across the kitchen. Douxie shoved Zoe to the side, but the vengeful toy didn’t seem to notice her at all. It gleefully slammed into the Master Wizard’s head and began wrapping itself around his face. He stumbled back and fell against the counter, sending a few dirty dishes crashing to the floor as he clawed at the soft little demon that was attempting to suffocate him.

“NO!” Zoe screeched, and before she could think twice, there was a blinding flash of bright pink light and the crackling snap of a thunderbolt. The sock monkey exploded into a cloud of stuffing and fibers that fluttered to the floor and dissolved into ash.

Zoe dropped to her knees, wand still outstretched in her trembling hand. Douxie leaned back against the counter, sucking in huge gulps of air.

“...Well,” he wheezed. “At least you finally got your revenge.”

“...No. Oh, no no no,” Zoe whimpered, dropping her wand and burying her face in her hands. “Oh gods, what have I... Lin is going to... Gods, Douxie I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” She emerged from her hands to see him giving her a thumbs-up and a sympathetic smile.

“The only damage done was emotional,” he assured her. “...At least where I’m concerned.” His gaze drifted across the floor, taking in the ashes scattered all over it. Silence hung between them for a few long minutes. “...What do we do now?”

“...Do you have your phone on you?” Zoe asked. Douxie nodded. “Give it here.” He pulled the item in question out of his pocket and tossed it over to her. She scrolled through his contacts list until she found the name she was looking for, then pressed call. Douxie pulled himself to his feet and began searching for a broom. There was a click on the other end of the line.

“Barbara Lake speaking.”

“Hey, Barbara? It’s Zoe. ...Yeah, I’m using Douxie’s phone. Long story short, we’ve had a bit of an accident and I need to know where you got Lin’s sock monkey from...”

*****

“Hey, Lin.” Lin looked up from his sketchbook to find his mother standing in his bedroom doorway. “Catch.” She tossed a familiar grey and white figure at him.

“Wow. She looks like new,” he observed, turning the sock monkey over in his hands. “...Very new.”

“Yeah. That’s...why it took me longer than usual to fix her. Take good care of her, alright? I don’t want to have to fix her again any time soon.”

“Yep. Thanks, Mom.” He watched her leave, then looked back down at the toy. “...Huh. I don’t remember you ever having these tags, Georgina...” The sock monkey smiled up at him benignly. “Weird.” He shrugged and sat the stuffed animal up on his desk before bending over his sketchbook once more.

Meanwhile, Zoe went to brew herself a very strong cup of herbal tea.

A very special thanks to @poetryinmotion-author and @rikalovesrice for helping me with this one, and to @dreamsarelikedragonflies for beta reading. ✨

[bluebellhairpin]

Tears, Fears, and Souvenirs

Levi Ackerman X Reader

A/N: I was having a bath the other day - for the first time in years - and I just kinda sat there and did nothing for a while. It was weird. - Nemo

Warning(s): PTSD. Nudity. Probably more forced self-care than I’ll ever get in my entire life. Scars. Anime/Manga Spoilers. 

Summary: Over time, if they’re bottled long enough - emotions build up. Eventually, people find places where they can run free. Luckily for you, you’re alone when it happens. Unluckily for you, that alone-ness did not last long. 

Listening to: ‘Nothing Left To Say/Rocks’ by Imagine Dragons - ‘I've come too far to see the end now ... But I keep pushing on and on and on and on.’

Masterlist 

After days like today where the hours stretched on, and they day was actually three - but still counted as one, because sleep over safety was not an option - you always waited a couple more hours to make sure everyone was asleep.

Especially the newest cadets - or what was left of them. 

You feigned the idea that you were taking care of them. That you waited up so that those who needed coaxing to go to bed actually had someone to coax them. But it wasn’t just that. The baths were always quiet at 2 am. 

Even though it had taken a while to get the water warmed, as you sunk into the steaming water you knew the wait was worth it. Despite no luxury of scented oils or bubbles, you enjoyed it anyway - just the feeling of everything washing away was good enough. It’d tide you over until - one day - you’d get those things. But that would be a time when you wouldn’t need to take a bath to forget.

After the day - or days - that you just had, you’d need more than one bath to completely process and wash away what happened. 

Miche was dead. Your closest friend, someone who was practically a brother to you, died right behind you as you ran away. 

At the time you were in your soldier mindset. He was a fallen comrade with no hope left. In that he was managing to divert the titans away from you, and that was good. He was supposed to be right behind you, his horse appearing in the distance as yours came right up from another direction. He told you to go, that he’d catch up in no time. 

You, in your soldier mindset, listened to your superior like you were taught.

You, in your soldier mindset, didn’t look back like you were taught. 

But now? Now you thought of how you both should’ve just hopped on your horse and left, his would’ve found him and caught up eventually. At least then you both would be alive. The idea of having to do it again - leave someone behind - sent a nauseating pang straight to your heart.

Your head rested back against the bath rim. You felt them coming, the tears, and you’d let them fall. The very least you could give Miche was free-falling tears - you wouldn’t wipe them away, he fought long and hard enough to have deserved them, you knew that much. 

Of course, he was only the first of many casualties that day. Nanaba was gone too, as well as others - some you thought you trusted but no longer could. Then the countless injuries to stack on top of it all. 

It was such a shame, an age-old war needing the sacrifice of young lives in order to be eventually won or lost. 

Your eyes cast downwards, looking at the fresh cuts, grazes, burns, and bruises littering your skin. They’d add to your skin’s collection of marks rather nicely. You pinched your skin between your fingers, remembering a time when you were better fed and weren’t running around after cadets all day. You didn’t like thinking about that.

With a deep breath in and closed eyes, you pressed your fingers to your nose and slid down into the water, staying there just under the surface until your lungs burned and your knees ached from being bent so. You shot up out of the water, taking in quiet gulps of air and pushed your - now - wet hair out of your face.

“You sloshed.” A voice behind you commented. Your instinct was the freeze up, but you knew that tone, and that voice. Levi. 

“You didn’t knock.” You rested back against the tub, lifting your arms to hang over the sides. You didn’t look back at him. 

He shuffled around behind you, and eventually dropped a chair by your side and towels on the floor to half-effort a clean-up of your spilt bath water. 

You looked over at him, locking your eyes with a pair that was already on yours. His nose almost twitched into a frown. 

“You’ve been crying.” You grunted at that.

“Hange should call you Captain Obvious, not Captain Shorty.” He reached over, tugging your hair in a uncharacteristically soft warning. 

“Don’t go thinking you’re the only one that will miss him, he was everyone’s friend.” 

Levi Ackerman was not a tactful man. 

His eyes raked down your face, and then back up again. He wasn’t sitting close enough to look at anything else other than your arms - only because they were still dripping water onto the towels below. Then he visibly - even so still small - grimaced. 

“You’re washing your hair, right?” he asked and you were going to answer, but then he kept on, “It’s greasy, matted. Downright filthy - did you bathe in the titan’s muck before you came here?” You frowned at him.

“Well, I wasn’t planning to, then you asked and I decided I would, but then you insulted me so I think I won’t. Just to piss you off.” you said, sticking your nose in the air with a sniff as you sunk lower into the water.

“You won’t, fine.” he said, “Let me do it then.” You raised an eye at him, and he rolled his eyes at you. “I’m sitting here with nowhere else to be, and you need your hair washed. Win, win.” 

You said nothing, only sinking further into the bath, with your mouth underwater and now a questionable amount of legs sticking out the other end. 

“If you want it washed, then let me wash it for you,” he added. You turned your head over again, only just being able to meet his eyes over the rim. “I won’t look, if that’s what you’re hesitating about.” 

You snorted into the water, sitting yourself up to laugh without drowning yourself. His almost caring delivery of the phrase, paired with his eye roll was comical. After settling, and ignoring Levi’s steely glare for a good few minutes, you let out a sigh. 

“Fine, just this once.”

“I wasn’t planning on washing your hair for you forever brat.” He said, and moved his chair over so it was behind you. 

You supposed, if he didn’t shove you underwater and call it a rinse, getting your hair washed for you would be fine. Nice even. But you didn’t expect for it to feel that relaxing. Sitting there, as the bath water cooled, you felt his fingers run through your hair. Pulling the tangles out with patience that would only be found in a thousand people. Washing out the dirt, mud, sweat, grease, and blood with every pour of a jug. 

You prayed to whatever higher beings there were that his fingers would always work in such a way forever. It would be cruel to have them taken away when they could massage the soap into your scalp so well. 

Only once did you get dunked - but that was because you threatened him with the idea that he was enjoying washing your hair as much as you were enjoying the feeling of it. 

You thought he did, at least, and you knew he’d never admit it if your idea was true.

But whenever you find yourself in the bath at 2 am, when you’re at your lowest and ready to forget the long, taxing, and trying days, he’s always there to wash your hair. 

So then you knew.

[chucklegigglechortlesnort]

“Levi’s”

👉👈 i wrote this a while ago and... it’s been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks bc i’m not really sure about it but i mean it’s something right???

this concept popped into my brain after i bought a levi’s hoodie and connected the dots a little later

i hope it’s enjoyable

warnings: minor angst to fluff

Shoving open the door to your room, you flopped onto your bed with a dramatic huff.

You had spent the day in the human world, having accompanied Lucifer and Diavolo on business and the days events had left you completely drained.

Well, almost completely.

You still had enough left in you to spend some time with Levi, who you had promised earlier that day that you’d at least start a new anime that he’d been excited to watch.

You were exhausted and running on fumes but you couldn’t bring yourself to cancel on him last minute. He was just so excited about it and you didn’t want to ruin that by going back on your plans.

You pushed yourself up with a huff, rummaging through the bag of belongings you had managed to convince Diavolo and Lucifer (more so Lucifer - Diavolo was actually curious to see where you lived and therefore easy to convince) to let you snag from your apartment before you returned home to the Devildom.

You quickly shed your daytime wear for an over-sized hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts. Vastly more comfortable, you stepped in front of the mirror - more out of habit than anything else - to check your appearance. The hoodie you had chosen had a large “Levi’s” logo displayed on the front and you snickered to yourself. It was by pure coincidence that you had it, but you couldn’t help but snag it when you saw it hanging in your closet. It was too perfect to pass up and you figured you’d wear it as a joke, even if it wasn’t that funny.

You completed the look with a pair of fuzzy socks before leaving for his room.

When you reached his room, you knocked three times followed by two taps and a jiggle of the doorknob.

“What’s the pass-code?”

“No matter how deep the night -”

“- It always turns to day eventually.” 

There was a click and the doorway opened a crack. Levi peers out, looking around before yanking you into his room. You roll your eyes at his theatrics but allow a smile to creep onto your face as he shuts the door behind you.

“Ready to get this party started?” You asked.

Immediately his face lit up in excitement. It was cute how enthusiastic he was about every new anime or game he started and you couldn’t help but share it. He launched into rambling about how many rave reviews it had gotten, and how it was animated by one of his favorite studios and written by one of his favorite manga authors.

A giggle escaped you on accident and Levi glanced up to defend himself, but any retort quickly died in his throat as soon as his gaze landed on your hoodie. 

A flush rose to his cheeks as he stared at the Levi’s logo splayed across your chest. 

“Levi? Hello? You-”

“Y-your shirt- it- why does it have my name on it?”

You glance down, having momentarily forgotten about your little joke. You let out another giggle, much to Levi’s dismay. 

“Oh, yeah! It’s a popular brand up in the human world and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Funny right?”

Funny.

Levi guessed one would consider that an amusing coincidence, if they weren’t him. 

Or if they didn’t have a massive, ugly crush on you.

Or if the fact that you were basically wearing an item of clothing that declared you as his didn’t nearly send them into a cardiac arrest.

Then yeah he guessed that maybe ‘funny’ would be a way to describe this particular coincidence.

“Y-yeah. Sure.”

The oddly curt response caught you slightly off guard as he turned to stiffly stride over to the gigantic bean bag stationed in front of the obscenely large flat screen that sat opposite of it. You were slow to trail after him, hesitant after the rather cold exchange.

You plopped yourself down beside him on the beanbag moving in to cuddle up to his side, as usual (it had taken him a while to get used to this in the beginning, but luckily he had warmed up to the affection and was often reluctant to let go at the end of the night). However, he not-so-subtly scooted away from you, much to your disappointment.

Had your joke really been that bad?

You knew he may not have found it that funny but... still. You had at least expected a ‘dumb normie’ comment or something.

The terribly familiar concoction of anxiety and shame crept up on you as you settled into your seat, grabbing a pillow from nearby and hugging it to your chest to try and muffle the feeling. You crushed the cushion against you and wrapped your arms around your knees as Levi grabbed the remote and started the anime.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention, your brain was too occupied with picking apart and replaying the scenario. The soft flashing images only encouraged this hypnotizing lull of negative thoughts and none of your efforts to snap yourself out of it seemed to work. Somewhere in your mind you knew you should stop and that it was ridiculous to get so worked up about such a small issue - if you could even call it that - but the mindset to put that into action eluded you.

At some point your gaze had drifted over to Levi, who was seemingly fine, as well as completely engrossed in the show.

It must’ve been just you then. 

Levi must’ve felt your gaze burning into the side of his skull, because his own eyes flicked over to meet yours and his face went crimson.

“What are you staring at?”

The bite in his voice only managed to strike you deeper.

You felt a tightness in your throat and a stinging sensation beginning to rise behind your eyes.

Nonononono this wasn’t happening. Not over something this freaking stupid.

‘It’s not a big deal.’ You told yourself. ‘You’re reading way too much into it, just stop you idiot.’

However, much to your further disappointment in yourself, you couldn’t manage to hold back your tears.

You tightened your hold on the pillow and buried your face into it in order to muffle your sniffles. The patheticness of your situation did absolutely nothing to improve your mood and all you wanted to do was leave and go to bed so you could cry yourself to sleep like a loser and forget about it in the morning. And probably never where this hoodie again.

This stupid hoodie.

You could feel your sinuses plugging up with mucus and the urge to sniffle came once again, except this time you forgot to hide it with your pillow.

Levi’s gaze fell on you once again at the sound. How were you crying already? You were only on episode three and nothing major happened- it was a slice of life for hell’s sake. It took him a second to register that your eyes weren’t even on the screen and that they were glued to somewhere on the floor and as soon as he saw the welled up tears in your eyes, he panicked.

“_-_____? W-what the hell are you crying for?!”

That’s it. You were absolutely mortified.

“I-it’s nothing, I’m fine, Leviathan. I’m probably overtired. I think I’m just gonna call it a night, okay?” Your voice came out rushed and cracked as you uttered ‘fine’ but you didn’t waste any time dwelling on it as you slid off the bean bag.

Oh. Oh no. You used his full name. You only ever used his full name when you were upset. With him. Oh god oh fuck what had he done.

You were already halfway across the room when he had finally worked up the nerve to chase after you. 

“Wait! _____, I-”

“-Was my joke really that bad?”

Levi froze as you turned around to face him, eyes glossed over with tears and directed anywhere but back at him.

“Huh? No!”

“Well then are you mad at me because we had to postpone tonight a bit because I went to the human world? I thought you were fine with that.”

“No that’s not-”

“Then, why?” Your eyes finally met his, but Levi wasn’t sure if he was relieved or if he just felt worse.

The avatar of envy’s mouth snapped shut and he thought over his next words carefully.

“Why... what?”

Nice. Good one Levi.

Your shoulders dropped and you stepped away.

“...Never mind. Goodnight, Leviathan.”

Levi flinched at the use of his full name, watching as you turned toward the door and crossed the rest of the room.

You placed your hand on the door knob, gently turning it with fatigue that showed in your every move. 

The way your shoulders sagged and the hecitance in your step caused a heavy dread to settle in Levi’s gut and in less than a second he had crossed the remainder of the room, wrapping his arms around you from behind and tugging you into his chest. His face settled in the junction of your neck and shoulder and you had to keep yourself from shuddering when his breath hit your skin.

“Levi-”

“I’m sorry.”

It was barely a whisper but you had heard it perfectly clear.

“I’m sorry for being mean, and for not laughing at your joke, because it was really c-cute and you’re really cute and- um I guess I just didn’t know how to react but that’s because I’m just a stupid shut in and I don’t want you to think that I’m an icky creep or something even though I’m probably not doing that great a job of convincing you other wise and I’m sorry about that too- “

“-Levi.”

“Y-yeah?”

“You’re not just a stupid, creepy shut-in, okay? And I definitely don’t think you are.”

His grip loosens around your shoulders and you wiggle around in his grasp to face him. Your eyes are glazed over and tired, but despite that he can see sparks of something akin to adoration shining in them.

“You don’t?”

“Mm mm.” You hum, shaking your head.

It’s at this point that Levi realizes that your faces are inches apart, and the entirety of your body is pressed flush against his. His face is immediately overtaken with red and he slowly eases away from you. His large hand wraps around your smaller one and he grazes his thumb back and forth over your palm.

“D-do you... want to stay the night?”

You nod softly, a smile gracing your features once again, much to Levi’s relief.

“Yeah, sure.”

He’s quick to tug you back over to the plush bean back in front of the TV, figuring it’s a bit more spacious than his bathtub. He plops down and pulls you into his lap before he can chicken out, wrapping his arms around your waist so you’re pressed against his chest once again.

There are a few beats of silence before Levi’s voice rings softly in your ears, mumbling groggily as he drifts off to sleep.

“...You should wear that hoodie again.”

“...Hm... mabe I will.”

. . .

“Oh, and Levi?”

“Hm.”

“Apology accepted.”

The next thing Levi feels is a pair of lips ghost across his neck, but not a second later you’re out like a light.

You were certainly, with out a doubt, going to be the death of him.

[randomrichards]

BEST MOVIES OF 2020

10)          BORAT SUBSEQUENT MOVIEFILM

It’s a miracle Sacha Baron Cohen could pull off his guerilla comedy style considering how iconic his character is (especially during the COVID-19 Pandemic). Just as surprising is how uncompromising it is with its political commentary and how it never backs away from its deliciously inappropriate humour.

As everyone’s favourite anti-Semitic, misogynist dim bulb reporter (Sacha Baron Cohen) becomes a pariah in his home country, Borat tries to sell his daughter Tutar (Maria Bakalova) to Michael Pence (then later Rudy Giuliani). The result is an endless array of side splitting, cringy moments from convincing a baker to write an anti-Semitic slogan on a cake to Borat attempted disguises to avoid detection.

Not since Buster Keaton has a comic actor pulled such dangerous stunts for a laugh. Cohen puts himself in such risky situations for the sake of his comedy when he hangs around with Qanon nutjobs or barges into a Republican convention dressed as “McDonald Trump.” [1] Well, it’s not just for laughs. As with his earlier works, Cohen uses his guerilla comedy style to expose the ugly side of humanity and America’s complicity in said ugly behavior. A notable theme is the consequences of misinformation. Borat is an instigator and willful idiot for his home country’s propaganda, which makes him an easy target for conspiracy theories. It all comes to a hilarious head when his daughter becomes a rightwing pundit and breaks his heart with holocaust denial.

Maria Bakalova is the film’s breakout star. An unknown actress from Bulgaria, Bakalova matches him every step of the way as the gullible, degraded young woman. She shines in her own hilarious moments when she’s ballroom dancing with a bloody dress or cheering about the joys of masturbating in front of a Republican Meeting.  She also gives the movie a heart as Borat bonds with his daughter and forces him to reevaluate his beliefs.

It’s impossible for the film to reach the same level of impact as the first Borat considering what a surprise phenomenon the original was. But it’s still surprising the sequel was as good as it was without sacrificing its inappropriate humour.

9)            HIS HOUSE

Writer/Director Remi Weekes brings another great addition to the metaphorror genre with His House; a creepy horror flick about a Sudanese refugee couple who find their lives in Britain threatened by the literal demons of their past.

Dilapidated rooms with peeling wallpaper, decaying floors, and malfunctioning lights are a perfect atmosphere for horror, Weekes and his cinematographer Jo Willems takes full advantage of this environment to unsettle the audience. Bol Majur (Sope Dirisu) and his wife Rial Majur (Wunmi Mosaku) find themselves tormented by voices in the walls, and mysterious figures peaking through the crawl spaces. It’s clear these supernatural figures are the manifestations of their trauma.

Weeks contrast the supernatural horror with the real horror they face, which takes the form of an uncaring bureaucracy that sticks them in a dilapidated home in a crumbling neighbourhood with some hostile, indifferent neighbours. It shows how finding a doctor’s office in an unfamiliar land can be as scary as facing ghosts.

You care a lot about these two thanks to Dirisu and Mosaku, who bring a lot of quiet humanity and heart to their characters. You pray for them as they fight for their right to live with dignity after what they’ve been put through.

8)            WOLFWALKERS

British girl/wannabee warrior) Robyn (voiced by Honor Kneafsey) joins her father (Sean Bean) on a trip to a remote Irish village where she encounters Mebh (Evan Whittaker), a wild red-haired girl with the ability to control a pack of wolves. With her father tasked with killing Mebh’s pack, Robyn must find Mebh’s mother and protect the pack from the tyrannical religious fanatic Lord Protector (Simon McBurney) in Tomm Moore’s conclusion to his Irish Folklore trilogy.

The animation is just as gorgeous as Moore’s earlier films The Secret of Kells and The Song of the Sea with his trademark storybook-like animation style. A noticeable difference between the earlier is how deliberately rough the animation looks. There are moments you can see lines and circles that are usually erased when drawing characters. It fits with the wild energy of the characters.

There’re the clear environmental themes of humans encroaching on animal lives and the need to respect nature. Lord Protector believes he needs to dominate the wilderness and the wolves. The villagers in contrast have more respect for the environment but can’t do much under Protector’s rule. So, the wolves are forced to find a new home.

Another theme of this film is the importance of questioning authority and not blindly conforming to social norms. Robyn’s father expects her to train to be a chambermaid while he’s blindly follows Lord Protector’s orders. They keep saying it’s “for the greater good,” but that “greater good” involves the destruction of a wilderness and a denial of one’s true self. It just leaves everyone miserable. And all for a religious fanatic.

It’s a shame Moore’s films don’t get more attention because they have that rare sense of wonder.

7)            NEVER RARELY SOMETIMES ALWAYS & UNPREGNANT (tie)

I’m putting these two films together on the list because they have the same premise of two teen girls travelling across state lines so one of them can get an abortion. What sets them apart is how different they are in styles.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always is a grounded drama about Autumn (Sidney Flanigan) a teenage girl from Pennsylvania who secretly travels with her cousin Skylar (Talia Ryder) to New York to get an abortion without their parents knowing. Writer/director Eliza Hittman avoids melodrama in favour of grounded realism. Flanigan and Ryder keep their performances at a lowkey level to reinforce the realism. Hittman also avoids political moralizing in favour of just presenting a slice of life showcase as the cousins travel to New York, try to find the appropriate procedure for her circumstance, then tries to find the money to get back home. In a way, it makes the little moments more meaningful when Autumn is forced to watch anti-abortion propaganda or when she and Skylar plays at an arcade.

While the former goes for grounded drama, Haley Lu Richardson’s Unpregnant bears a closer resemblance to comedic road movies like National Lampoon’s Vacation and Planes, Trains & Automobiles. This time, popular teen Veronica (Haley Lu Richardson) enlists the help (and the car) of social outcast/former friend Bailey (Barbie Ferreira) to drive from Missouri to Albuquerque to get the procedure without her parents knowing. The result is a chaotic road trip with the two crashing a few cars and meeting a few colourful characters along the way. This film has quite a set of cameos including Breckin Meyer, Betty Who and Giancarlo Esposito. This film has the John Hughes blend of broad humour and recognizable heart. This film gets its point across by showcasing the absurdity of how teen girls are treated. One notable example is Veronica’s boyfriend; a stage 5 clinger who lives under the “nice guy” mindset.

Both films celebrate teen girls helping each other out.

6)            THE VAST OF NIGHT

Switchboard operator (Sierra McCormick) and DJ Everett Sloan (Jake Horowitz) search for the source of a mysterious sound in The Vast of Night; a gripping and visual dazzling sci fi flick that captures the feel of the Twilight Zone.

Director Andrew Patterson and co-writer Craig W. Sanger wrote a tightly knit story the follows our heroes over the course of a night as they play detective in a 1950s New Mexico town. Never does a second feel wasted. Plus, it’s fun to see stereotypical 1950s nerds being the heroes in a story like this.

What truly makes this film stand out is its visual styles. From the Twilight Zone-esque opens plays on an old tv, cinematographer M.I. Littin-Menz has you under his spell. His camerawork is always gorgeous in both the way he is zooming into a 1950s high school basketball game and shining omniscient light from the night sky. There are also some unusual moments when the film will suddenly play on 1950s tv. This may either further the intrigue or take some viewers out of the movie.

The result is a unique experience for sci-fi fans.

5)            KAJILLIONNAIRE

Emotionally distant young woman Old Dolio (Evan Rachel Wood) and her small-time con artist parents (Debra Winger and Richard Jenkins) find their lives turned upside down when a perky stranger named Melanie (Gina Rodriguez) joins in their schemes.

Some audiences may be put off by July’s stylized approach to filmmaking, especially Wood’s unusual deep voice. But for those into lighthearted, quirky comedies will be enchanted by the little visual oddities of the family stooping (or in Old Dolio’s case, leaning back) to avoid their landlord or the pink suds always flowing down their apartment walls.

Kajillionnaire fits into July’s celebration of the timid and the outsiders. But July surprises us with a dark side to the outsider. The parents reject the unfulfilling, debt filled conventional life, but they aren’t particularly good at their cons and struggle to make ends meet. It has also made their daughter emotionally distant and with severe trust issues. It takes Melanie to give Old Dolio the human connection she never had.

I can’t say much beyond that because it takes many unexpected twists and turns. What I can say is this colourful dramedy offers an assurance of human connection.

4)             SMALL AXE

Ok, I may be cheating on this one since it’s five films (two of them just barely over an hour), but director Steve McQueen’s anthology complement each other perfectly with their unflinching examinations of systemic racism inflicted on lives of West Indie Brits during 1960s and the 1980s. The films are also connected by their celebration of people who celebrate life despite overwhelming odds stacked against them.

MANGROVE centers on the title Caribbean restaurant in Notting Hill. Owner Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes) just wants to serve customers and be left alone, but his business is a constant target of harassment by racist cops. It all comes to a head with a 1970 protest, which leads to Frank and 8 others falsely accused of inciting a riot.

The trial demonstrates how Police can brutalize protesters, then turn around and accuse the protesters of inciting violence. It also shows how the justice system is complicity by blindly taking the word of the police over civilians. Not helping is a prosecuting attorney who peddles in racist dog whistles, a defense attorney naïve about the justice system’s treatment of black people and an indifferent judge. But the defendants stand strong as they use the trial as a platform to expose racial profiling while poking holes in cop’s testimony.

The two standouts in the film are Parkes and Letitia Wright as British Black Panther Co-Founder Altheia Jones. Parkes brings a lot of sympathy as a desperate man who just wants to live his life but grows to become an activist due to circumstances outside of his control. In contrast, Wright is a powerhouse of righteous anger as she fights for dignity.

LOVERS ROCK takes us through a night at a house party, where two strangers (Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn and Micheal Ward) fall in love. There’s isn’t much plot in this one, its mostly just people dancing and playing music. But as the camera lingers on the DJ playing records and the guests dancing and enjoying each other’s company, this film enchants you with its celebration of music, dancing, and the joy of company. It feels like a much-needed break from the uncomfortable racism we see in the other movies.

RED, WHITE, AND BLUE Is probably the most heartbreaking. John Boyega portrays Leroy Logan, a young man who enrolls in the Metropolitan Police in hopes of reforming it from the inside. He underestimates the racism he’ll face during training or how the system enables the racism. What makes it worst is how his own community would turn against him, especially his father (Steve Toussaint).

Boyega gives a powerful performance as a determined and smart guy who fails to understand how in over his head he is. You feel his fury when Leroy berates his fellow officers for putting his life in danger by not answering his call for backup. Toussaint is just as powerful as a man who feels betrayed when his son joins the very people who have brutalized him for years.

ALEX WHEATIE tells the true-life story of a young man (Sheyi Cole) who would go on to become an award-winning writer after being jailed during the Brixton Uprising of 1981. We follow him from his childhood growing up in uncaring white institutional care homes to finding a sense of community in Brixton, where he develops a passion for music. Through his attempts to pursue a DJing career and his run ins with the law that he confronts his past and begins a journey to healing.

We conclude with Education, a coming-of-age story of Kingsley (Kenyah Sandy), a 12-year-old boy who was singled out as “disruptive” and sent to special classes for the “subnormal”. This film looks at an unofficial segregated system that dismissed black kids and discarded them in classes for people with mental disability. It’s clear Kingsley is a smart kid with interest in rockets and space, but he shows signs of dyslexia. But neither his headmaster nor are the special classes helpful, especially when the teacher cares more about play his guitar and teaching the kids anything useful. His parents are even less helpful when they dismiss his concerns (when they’re not working two jobs.) It leads to a sad moment when Kingsley hides inside a bus to avoid seeing his friends.

This film also shows the power of black women. You see it through Kingsley’s sister Stephanie (Tamara Lawrence) whose empathy makes her realize somethings up. You see through Lydia Thomas (Josette Simon) activism as she investigates these school conditions. You especially see it through Kingsley’s mom (Sharlene Whyte), not just from working to jobs to provide for her family but her ability to grow and learn. She goes through a journey as Lydia teaches her about the systemic racism in the education system, forcing her to realize how she’s dismissed her son’s concerns. Near the end, we see how children like Kingsley can be helped by those willing to understand his problem.

3)            FIRST COW

Timid forager Cookie (John Magaro) feels out of place among the hunters and fur traders in the Oregon Territory. Then along comes King-Lu (Orion Lee), a Chinese immigrant with big dreams. Together, they swipe milk from the only cow in the area to cook and sell pastries to the locals in the area. As their little business grows, so does the bond between these outsiders. But their success comes under threat when they attract the attention of a wealthy landowner (Toby Jones) who owns the cow.

A premise like this does not sound like the type of film that attracts major audience attention, especially with Co-writer/Director Kelly Reichart’s minimalist style. But when it comes to Reichart, less is more. Reichart takes her time to take in the muted colours and natural beauty of Christopher Blauvelt’s cinematography and allow the relationships to develop naturally. It’s helped by the low-key yet engaging performances. Lee showcased the enthusiastic determination of a born entrepreneur. But it’s Magaro who shines brightest with the most nuanced performance of the year, revealing Cookie’s humanity through the subtlest gestures.

Reichart’s subtle, patient storytelling isn’t for everyone, but through her gentlest touch she enchants the audience with a haunting tale of unlikely friendships and the achievements of outsiders.

2)            UNCUT GEMS

I know this is a film was released in 2019, but It didn’t come to our theatre until 2020 and It’s too damn good not to talk about.

This film is a cinematic panic attack. Never once do the Safdie brothers give you a moment to relax as fast-talking Jeweler Howard Ratner (Adam Sandler) dodges pissed off debt collectors while plotting for the biggest bet he can get. The result is an experience that keeps you on edge from opening credits to end credits. In lesser hands this would be an unpleasant experience, but the Safdie brothers uses this to create a compelling, intense portrayal of a man who gets off on standing on the edge of a cliff.

One reason it works is because beauty and ugliness make strange bedfellows in their movies. Nowhere is this more perfectly summed up than in the opening scenes where cinematographer Darius Khondji travels through an inside of a gem. The colours and lights make you feel like you’ve ascended to a magical world, but this scene happens in between scenes of African Miners being exploited and the inside of Howard’s colon. Just as beautiful is Daniel Lopatin’s new wave musical score. On its own, the music lulls you into a beautiful sense of peace. But this music often plays over uncomfortable scenes of characters screaming over each other. Somehow these two elevate the cinematic experience.

But the true strength of the film is Howard himself, which is astounding considering how unlikeable the character is. Throughout the film, he keeps digging himself into a deeper hole as he gambles even more recklessly, which makes it worst when he starts putting other’s people lives at risk. But he’s too complicated to hate. He shares a close bond with his kids and his coworkers. The film makes it clear he’s excellent at predicting Basketball games with near perfect accuracy, which gives you hope he will win. But then again, you don’t end up with over a hundred thousand dollars in debt without making terrible life decisions. He would be impossible to watch without Adam Sandler’s performance. He blends a smooth-talking charm and panic desperation to his character every time he tries to fast talk his way out of his circumstance. You can see why people like having him around.

When the credits roll, you’re relieved it’s over and were glad to experience the thrill.

1)            THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO SEVEN

The real-life trial of seven protesters and Black Panther co-founder Bobby Seale feels more like an SNL skit than a courtroom drama. From the Merry Prankster duo Abby Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) and Jerry Rubin (Jeremy Strong)’s tweaking the nose at the buffoon judge Hoffman (Frank Langella) to the Judge bounding and gagging Seale, this trial was so contrived it can only come from real life. And writer/director Aaron Sorkin exposes the absurdity of this story in The Trial of the Chicago Seven.

It’s funny how a film about a trial from the late 60s can capture the mood of 2020. But with brutal images of Police attacking protesters and Judge Hoffman’s horrific treatment of Seale, this film feels like it came at the perfect time.[2] The trial itself showcases how the Justice system works to silence discourse and smears protestors. Sorkin further emphasizes how the system attacks anyone by showcasing the contrasting beliefs of the protestors from the radical anarchism of Hoffman and quiet dignity of Seale to the moderate ideals of student protestor Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne) and the unapologetic pacifism of suburban dad David Dellinger (John Carroll Lynch).

Sorkin does all this while keeping the film gripping and entertaining from start to finish. He brings his sharp wit to his dialogue whether it’s Hoffman’s political speeches or the Marx-brother’s esque exchanges between the Judge and the increasingly frustrated defense attorney William Kunstler. Matching his writing are the endless great performances from the actors including Joseph Gordon-Levitt as reluctant prosecuting attorney Richard Schultz and Strong bringing out his inner Tommy Chong. But it’s Cohen who steals the whole film bringing out the uncompromising radicalism of Hoffman, who seems to have a better understanding of the situation than most of the protestors.

The result is a film that perfectly captures the political feel of 2020.

[1] At one point, he was almost attacked by protesters.

[2] Which is ironic considering it took Sorkin over a decade to get the film made.

[spiritmaiden23]

why do you even like skyward sword zelda

Oooooo, anon you finna make my followers hate me even more since I don’t shut the fuck up about one beautiful sky Zelda. In short:

In long? Well, I’ll place it under the read more. Juuuuust in case I do actually get super rambly ramble with this girl because I can like talk hours. Excuse the mistakes, I’ll get to editing them once I learn how to read again. I tend to go off when I ramble and not check anything until later on. Bear with me, please!

I’m not even sure where to start?! I suck at getting my thoughts out into cohesive enough reading pieces because ADHD is just hell brain going 755034 miles per minute and expecting everyone to keep up sometimes. I feel like everything I’ve said has been said before... but, I’m always totally ready to ramble once more because it’s something I can never be tired of and is very on-brand of me to yell about either sky or ALTTP Zelda. I’m just super passionate about these girls! 

What drew me to Skyward Sword Zelda in the first place is the aesthetic of her game as well as her design as a whole. I remember seeing the trailer for SS drop and how hyped I was. The cel-shading was back with a vengeance with a nice combo of the art style we see in TP too rather than the more toon style with WW and I feel like it worked beautifully, the graphics for the game never fail to amaze me and I love the watercolor look they went with in both the official art and game! I knew I would love this Zelda and guess what, I was right in that because spoiler alert: I LOVED this Zelda the minute we were introduced to her. Not her first physical appearance because all we saw was her beautiful dress design... well, ok this did help in making me love this girl. BUT her first introduction as to who she is as a character in the letter sent to Link. She’s cheeky in the letter and it gives us this sense that the two of them really are on a more familiar level with each other, compared to every other relationship with Zelda and Link where they are strangers bound by fate to save Hyrule. It’s very simple, a few sentences but all that simplicity painted a good enough sense as to what we were in for with Zelda and her friendship with Link. 

HOOOOOOO BOY HOOOO BOY!!! And then we see her, and we see Link smiling at her like it’s the first time seeing her ever despite seeing her yesterday. And gosh, she’s just a charming character overall!! She’s funny, someone who likes to tease others and carries a strong sense of justice! She can be pushy (literally and figuratively speaking) but she does mean well by the end of the day and is aggressive in showing support for you! She’s an optimist mostly for friends because she thinks that things will turn out alright for her friends and she wishes that they can see the same too so often she will encourage them. She’s not a princess. She’s very ordinary here, and that ordinariness illustrates both Sky and Tetra best because of how lighthearted and open they are. Granted they’re not super lax and are still very responsible like all Zeldas but they’re pretty informal and I love that about them! 

Sky Zel is someone who’s pretty straightforward, she has no issue with letting both her body and facial expression do the talking for her as such she doesn’t really hide much. She’s an open book of sorts all while being someone who expresses her mind and isn’t roundabout in saying things, she has no issue with calling you out as shown with how she called out Groose and his bullying on Link. On top of that, she does call out Link a few times too depending on the choices you give in-game! Skyward Sword did an excellent job in making Sky Zel so likable and adding nuance to her relationship with Link through the little things in the first few minutes of the game and it’s like, damn you kinda wanna see her again all safe and happy! 

It reminds me of how Wind Waker starts off with Aryll and Link having a wholesome brother-sister bond and it motivates you to rescue her because you’re sure that Link wants to see Aryll home safe and happy again with Grandma.

It’s a shame how we don’t see her journey throughout the game and see how she becomes the more melancholic, wise girl we see during her scene where she falls asleep for over 1000+ years or the full extent of her relationship with Impa either because I’m sure those two had a pretty good bond going too for Zelda to react like that during the end where Impa fucking dies hweoh. That’s another thing too, there’s a whole other layer to Sky aside from Genki. Yes, she’s cheery and seems like your typical anime heroine but keep in mind that she was Hylia, a goddess who fought for her people to protect them, the lands, and the Triforce. She was in a war, she had to see so many of her people die that she loved and vowed to protect because of one demon’s greed to have the power of the gods. Hylians were weak back then, Demise says this straight up. So death was very likely in those days. 

She had to endure a lot during that time, once Zelda’s memories of her past life came back she grew up from that girl we see at the beginning of the game. It’s also worth noting, that Zelda and Hylia have different mindsets. She may have her memories back but that doesn’t really mean she’s back to being Hylia fully before she became mortal. I’ve talked about it before but Zelda, with her ordinary background, grew up surrounded by love. In other words, she has a more compassionate heart than she did as a goddess. Gods and deathless beings overall have a long lifespan, they tend to forget about morals and how humans worked. While Hylia did love her people and the lands her love is different from mortals as such it can be very painful. I mean *gestures to Sky Link* there you go. It’s why she’s so remorseful of her actions... but the ending scene where she tells Link she wants to live on The Surface tells me that there are still shades of that playful gremlin we saw in the first half of Skyward Sword. She’s someone who’s hopeful for tomorrow but likes to live in the now and make a brighter tomorrow. She won’t hide away from the past, willing to admit to her mistakes and refusing to make excuses, but she won’t let it define her either and will instead grow from it. She wants to protect the people she loves and the world she loves much like she did in her past life but with more empathy with that love!

I think that’s all for her as a character aside from one more thing to add: 

It’s cool to me how she’s not a princess, but a literal Goddess. She’s legit Hylia. So she’s unique in that aspect and she serves as an explanation as to why the royal family even has divine powers because her blood is passed down to them. I don’t buy fanon theory that all Zeldas are reincarnations of Hylia, I think Sky is the rare case of Zelda reincarnating. There’s no evidence to support either theory because Nintendo tends to be open-ended in their lore for the most part... although Demise makes it a point to say “those with the blood of the goddess” rather than the “spirit of the goddess” like he does with Link which is something that Ghirahim and Demise wanted from Zelda, aka the Spirit Maiden, to bring Demise’s form back from the seal Hylia placed on him. Her very soul has divinity to it. 

On top of that, in BOTW it’s explained that the sealing power has been passed down and that Zelda’s mother knew how to use it as did her grandmother and so on. So... with that in mind how on earth is Hylia around for both those ladies and the current Zelda we see in BOTW if every Zelda ever is the reincarnation of her? On top of that BOTW Zel says in her diary that she had a dream where a woman in white tried to call out to her so??? Huh? What? It creates a plot hole if you think every Zelda is Hylia reincarnating. And sort of takes away the fun headcanon of Zeldas interacting in the Spirit Realm. That said, I’d like to think her presence is eternal through the powers that become unlocked rather than Hylia herself. If that makes sense? It’s not literally Hylia reincarnating but a connection made with her. This might not be making much sense haha. But! Reincarnation is a thing I do think is possible in LOZ since BOTW does say this but I don’t think it’s not as straightforward as fandom thinks it is and I’d like to think it’s more nuanced. People tend to cite Avatar sometimes and ehhhhh. No.

But that’s just me on that one. 

ANYWAY THAT IS ALL THANKS FOR COMING TO THIS RAMBLE 

[helenarlett-rex]

Sorry for asking this on anon, but I just want to say I have recently started following you after reading some of your stuff, and really, you aren't want I expected from an erotica author. I don't mean that in a bad way. You're a super nice person and it's fun to watch your blog, but you just don't have the sex worker vibe I kind of expected you would have.

I don't know what to say. I'm just me.

I mean, I guess it could maybe be because I never really wanted to be an erotica author anyways. I'm a gray-asexual. Not that I have a problem with erotica. I think sex and sexuality are perfectly natural. And I know first hand what kind of damage the puritanical mindset of pretending that isn't the case can cause. Sex may not be something I'm super interested in myself, but I do still have it from time to time, and I do believe that if you ARE interested in it that's perfectly healthy and you shouldn't be ashamed to explore that. It's an important aspect of life. There's no reason people should shy away from it. You'll never catch me dissing a sex worker just for being a sex worker. (And yeah, technically I am one myself. I'm just not in the most hands-on area of that line of work.) But as for not fitting what you expected a sex worker to be like... I don't know... Maybe what you expect sex workers to be like isn't what they are actually like... We are all just people... I mean... How do you know that cam girl dildoing herself for tips on PornHub doesn't like to post memes and watch anime in her free time? Yeah, she's got a massive collection of sex toys, but maybe just off screen she's got an even bigger collection of My Little Ponies and a pet lobster she bought at Petco... Why not? We're just people and what we do for a living doesn't define who we are.

But getting back to my writing. I never set out to be an erotica author, and frankly, I don't even like to call what I write erotica. I write stories for adults that happen to explore topics that are important to me. And sexuality happens to be a topic that is important to me. I don't really talk abut this much, but this seems like a fitting time... I was sexually abused growing up. That has nothing to do with why I'm an asexual today. That wasn't something that came until much later in life... But the abuse happened. It happened in various different ways... But the one that hurt the most was not ever being able to talk about it, or even acknowledge that it happened at all, because growing up in a very puritanical conservative household, sex and anything related to sex, was just not something that was discussed. My parents never once talked to me about sex. I never got the birds and bees talk. I never even had a sex-ed class in school. I was a sexual assault survivor by the age of six, and they knew that... They weren't the cause of it, but they knew it happened... and yet they never talked to me about what happened or sex in general, because that was just... improper...

Try to think about what something like that would do to a kid... I'm fine now. I've been through a lot of therapy and I'm living a very comfortable and healthy life in relation to that topic. But I know what it's like growing up with that, and frankly, it's not something I want anyone else to ever have to experience. Sex shouldn't be some taboo subject that is never spoken of. Especially for someone who actually needs to talk about it, like I did. It's a normal thing that people do and it should be normalized as such. If it had been normalized in my household I wouldn't have had to go through the childhood I went through. (I'm not saying we should go giving porn to kids or anything like that. But a healthy understanding of the topic is pretty important, especially for anyone who's already been involved in it.)

So yes, there is a lot of sex in my books. Graphic sex. Pornographic even... Because I would like people to regard it as normal. But at the heart of my books I'm not sitting down and saying, "Okay. I'm going to write some fap material." No... I'm writing about stuff I care about. Normalizing sex and sexuality in a healthy way is just one of those things. (Although if you do fap to my books there's no shame in that either. Like I said. That's a normal, healthy thing to do.)

And yeah, okay... My really early books may have actually just been fetish erotica... But I wrote those as a part of an experiment, and that's a totally different story. Ask me about it and I'll be happy to explain it in a different post... But once I wrote the first few and realized people actually liked my writing, I stopped writing "erotica" and just started writing what I wanted to write. I mean... Go read The Dank Wildcats Vol. 1 for example. There is no graphic sex in that book at all. Any sex that may occur is just kind of mentioned in passing or glossed over. Any books that do have lots of graphic sex are there for the above reason, but yeah... That's why I don't really consider what I write erotica. I consider it adult literature that isn't afraid to address the fact that people have sex.

So I guess that could be one reason I don't come off the way you thought I would. Or again, it could just be that sex workers are just normal people the same as anyone else... But either way, I'm glad you've enjoyed my writing and this blog. I hope you will continue to do so in the future.

[innerarbitersoul]

Dear Daniel,

I think I get it.

I'm seeing a lot of posts that are angry on Stephen's behalf and a lot of posts of people saying that the fanbase shpuld stop being so toxic and give you a chance, but no one's really outright defending you. And make no mistake, I'm not about to. But I think I can at least understand where you're coming from.

I'm a business major, so I know how screwed up it can get. It's not about fairness, it's about maximizing benefits and maybe I've grown numb to it coz I can at least see things objectively.

I remember an endcard DanPlan did one time, I can't remember what video it was but it was an endcard with Daniel, Hosuh, and the other animators. Stephen wasn't there, and Daniel was telling the viewers how they stayed up late to finish the video on time. Hosuh even whines (jokingly) in the background that Daniel wouldn't let them sleep until they're done.

It makes you think how often this happens. I am not saying that Stephen isn't doing any work. Stephen is a core member, a host, part of the golden trio. But then again, so are Daniel and Hosuh. And they're putting so much work into this. I think Daniel, after 4 years, developed this unhealthy mindset.

He doesn't think it's fair to give Stephen a large portion of the shares in DanPlan because he literally just thinks that Stephen only comes around, talks, and leaves. He doesn't know how much effort Stephen puts in his characters because in his mind 'Stephen is just being Stephen, he's talking with friends. It's not like he's writing scripts like I am'. In his eyes, it would be unfair for Stephen to get a bigger share. Here Dan and Hosuh were, dedicating so much of their time and energy, while Stephen literally just has to show up.

If you watch Stephen's video, try to put yourself in that mindset. Stephen would come off as arrogant, trying to claim that he played a big role in the growth of the channel. Daniel WAS right about one thing, he can't give an answer about how much of the channel's growth can be attributed to Stephen. It's impossible to determine that. So Daniel is basing this all on actual labor, in his eyes, he sees the actual effort the other members of the team put and sees them as valid. Makes sense from a business perspective, the more hours you work, the more you get paid. Dan and Hosuh are probably doing this full time. Meanwhile, I remember they mention this in another video that Stephen only works at DanPlan on a Friday because he has his main job. I'll try to look for the video, but they drew a chart that shows when each of them is free and Stephen is the one that's always too busy. It's also been implied that, at least at one point, Stephen doesn't visit the Discord server. At one point, he wasn't as invested with interacting with their fans as Daniel and Hosuh have been. (This is from what I understood was implied in their vids, I never went to the Discord server, so if I'm wrong, please correct me)

You can see it on videos too, there are a number of videos where Stephen isn't around, presumably he's at work. Daniel probably doesn't feel the effort Stephen puts in since he doesn't commit to it as Daniel and Hosuh have.

But here's the thing. They're an entertainment business. There's value in labor, but ultimately your worth comes from what you bring to the table. Since I've first started following them a couple years ago, I could tell from the get-go that Stephen was a fan favorite. Sure, that's probably not saying much since there are only three of them but still. I don't know if it's because Daniel is too deep into the fanbase that he can't look at things objectively, but all of us can obviously see Stephen's value.

I guess this is the mindset of, 'why should you get a high grade for this group project too when you barely did anything? '. But a stunt double isn't going to get paid the same amount as the main actor of the movie. Yes, it's unfair in a way, but it's logical because that's how this industry works.

Maybe it's the stress, Daniel has obviously been putting a lot of effort into the channel, with going back to school and all the charities and even going to Disneyland. Maybe he's so busy with the channel that he didn't find the time to appreciate what he had right in front of him, which is a shame.

I doubt Stephen will come back, but I hope they can be friends again. Business can get really messy, but strong friendships can usually pull through.

I'm not a friend of theirs, just a fellow fan. So this is all assumptions I've made after thinking about it for a while and applying my own experiences. I could be totally wrong in this, but I wanted to share a perspective of this whole thing that I haven't seen anyone else bring up yet.

As a fellow Stephen fan, please don't harass DanPlan and let's just support Stephen in whatever he decides to do in the future.

(Part 1 of 2: Stephen leaving DanPlan)