#this applies to all ships if we’re being honest

[starchaserfanatic]

When you find the urge to re-read a fic you read like years ago, but it’s two in the morning and you don’t remember the title or author just that one scene that has stayed with you for years, but you have work tomor-

Me at four AM: FUCK! FiNaLlY yEs! It may have taken me two hours and turning my brightness up all the way, but now I finally get to re-read 80k words leading up to a kiss that will damage me emotionally. Finally. So worth it.

[dve]

☕️ tamsyn muir

ohhhh hmmm i think tamsyn is a talented writer with a fun style who’s clearly done her time in the trenches of fandom space and is therefore understandably uninterested in engaging in certain elements of it. just being honest i don’t know much about her personally and frankly i don’t think i’m all that interested in knowing much about her! like she’s fine ig. i’m not saying death of the author or anything i just don’t think about her too much tbqh!

that said i think her ability to layer things in-text so that each subsequent reread is more intriguing than the last is really interesting, and while her prose is not my favorite (i think that really might go to seth dickinson honestly) among contemporary authors i think she really does have a certain je ne sais quois about the way she writes that wraps you up and doesn’t let you go, and then the book is finished. i think she’s got a dab hand at fleshing character dynamics out farther than any other author i can think of — it really does get complicated and i enjoy the way she complicates it even if in fandom these dynamics also get pared down for the sake of easy shippability or w/e (general statement not meant to be applied to any one ship just so we’re clear; the blorbofication of any little guy is inevitable in fan spaces and i get that)

if i had one major critique i really don’t love how tamsyn handles character descriptions especially pertaining to her nonwhite chars; i know gideon was published around a time when there was a lot of conversation around white authors and how they deal with race (for anyone wondering and about to send an ask about it i have seen the naberius tern monitor lizard post many times), and while i know she’s specified how she envisioned characters outside of the books i wish those descriptions were made manifest in the text more often. it could also be that some of that has to do with writing style and how she likes to approach things and maybe publisher interference or whatever idk but it leaves a gross taste in my mouth that i’ve talked about in private spheres before.

i really enjoy her stuff overall — i’ve read a few things written by her outside of the locked tomb and i think she’s a skilled writer and the way she establishes her worldbuilding is definitely fun in that it lets people sort of grab it by the horns and go crazy without like. authorial interference if that makes sense. like i enjoy the lack of clarity and rules to a degree and i think it takes a certain finesse to be able to do that without having the books feel messy or inconsistent

send ☕️ + a topic and i’ll share my thoughts on em 💗

[phoenixtakaramono]

The Boys, choose violence 10, 22, 24 if you please. :D

From the 🔥Choose Violence Ask Game🔥

Thank you, @kosmochlor, for the Ask! Ahh, and I see we’re going straight for the jugular!! 🔪(⊙v⊙✿) These are just a few personal honest opinions written at 1:40AM. What I think does not apply to everyone. ♥️

10. worst part of fanon

Keyboard warriors. The morality police clutching their pearls. You know who I’m referring to; we always have them in every fandom. The ones who police who/ what you like and are obnoxiously loud about it and about how the characters or ships you find interesting are problematic and, lookie here, my [insert character they’d fixated on] never did anything wrong compared to your rancid skrunkly blorbo and I wish more fans liked my favorite character than [insert popularly liked character]. On the converse of that, I’m on two fences when it comes to Homelander stans. Thankfully most people are rational and like him because he’s an interesting villain (and, let’s be real, it’s powered by a side of fan thirst for the actor who plays him; it’s the typical parasocial relationship that fans develop with the celebs who play our favs/ or it’s just plain interest in the fictional character itself or the fun thought of that fictional fav being railed or doing the railing)—but I do have to raise an eyebrow when he is being stanned for all the wrong reasons (coughfascistallegorycough coughMAGAallegorycough coughSigmamalecough).

It’s a very interesting outlook to have as someone who isn’t as into Homelander as other people but still goes out of my way to read and write stories of him being shipped with his enemy Billy Butcher (listen, I’m your average law-abiding 28 y/o woman who works M-Sat 9AM-5:30PM and sometimes even Sundays and even overtime; sometimes on my limited free time I just wanna indulge and imagine about what it’d take to save the metaphorical world in this fictional universe—aka by having the two toxic old men f*ck each other and they can be two co-dependent psychos in love terrorizing the world together as a shameless power couple in a perpetual Ouroboros cycle of love and hate and self-punishment; obviously I do not condone this kind of relationship irl but within the safety of my imagination, we writers be playing god. It’s fairly obvious both characters are fated to have a bad ending in the show, especially if they follow in the footsteps of comic canon for a bittersweet ending, so let me have fun on my very limited free time writing my alternative Butchlander takes about these manipulative assh0les obsessing over each other and the fate of the world depending on how successful they are at gaslighting each other into playing a permanent happy couple).

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Homelander is canonically bi in the comics. No, I’m serious.

(Spoiler alert: for those without context, in the comics, Soldier Boy was not Homelander’s father. In the comics, male Stormfront was one of the Supes whose DNA was reused by Vought to create new and stronger versions of the source material, so his DNA resulted in baby!HL’s creation no, comic HL did not f*ck male Stormfront; in a way, HL is kinda a partial clone of comic!SF. Whereas in the show, Soldier Boy was changed to be a super straight (?) alpha male granny f*cker who was later revealed in the season to be the sperm donor for Homelander. And Stormfront, as we know, was genderswapped in the show and changed to be Homelander’s girlfriend in S3. …There’s no confirmed Sweet Home Alabama vibes yet as of 2023 but there is understandably fan speculation for a reason.)

I believe the best way to put it: Homelander is generally attracted to women, but in later issues he reveals that he has a secret liking to men. Because he’s The Homelander; he can do whatever the f*ck he wants.

And let’s not forget this beautiful iconic scene the TV adaptation gifted to us:

Now some personal opinion time: I also like the idea of him being a narcissist so he only truly loves himself. And others can come close (especially if he sees aspects of himself in them) but his One True Love will always be himself. It’s the classic Narcissus looking at his mirror reflection allegory—but now you mix it in with some complicated cocktail of a God complex, inferiority complex, imposter syndrome, self-hatred, and sociopathy or psychopathy and a hidden desire of wanting to fit in with the banal societal human norms of being accepted but always feeling left out on the other side of the glass wall looking in. Now you tie it in with him never finding anyone who’s “genuinely loved him” (by his own criteria) and has not regarded him as a monster to be feared. He’s desperate for that human connection, for that elusive “perfect companion” who will understand him and cater to him and put his needs above their own—and to him, finding that proves he’s not a freak of nature. He’s not a monster. He’s not a failed product. He’s not a pathetic excuse of a man that even Soldier Boy didn’t even want as a son. Vogelbaum—and everyone else just doesn’t understand. People love him, right? Vought and Madelyn have indoctrinated him into believing he’s the people’s hero—and how they adore and worship him and want to be him or want to f*ck him. How can he, The Homelander, a superior being with his perfect genetics who’s better, stronger, smarter and more attractive than anyone else (I hope you can tell I’m being heavily sarcastic here), go out on a limb and fail at finding this one intangible thing that ordinary mudpeople or his inferiors can find but he somehow can’t?

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

It’s almost always political discourse particularly from extremely delusional right-wingers people who have terrible media literacy of what they’re watching versus what might be clear-cut to the rest of us—and discourse of whether or not The Boys (TV) is an objectively good show. All of these tend to go hand-in-hand together. I think what those people fail to realize is: the script is written by Eric Kripke, the showrunner behind the first five seasons of Supernatural—and then you have Stephen Fleet, lead VFX supervisor and show producer, who came out at the age of 43 (🏳️‍🌈). They’re adapting it from an edgy, dark, intentionally offensive-just-for-shock-value comic series written by Garth Ennis, the person behind Preacher and even a bit of the Punisher. The eight-volume comic series, which ran from 2006-2012, is full of racist, sexist, misogynistic, and homophobic elements (to be fair, GE wrote this as an intentionally darker satirical take on the superhero culture—and edgy shock factor is a writer’s strategy to make your work stand out). It was meant as a “dark, satirical commentary about the fictional superheroes—and, to an extent, the real life celebrities—we idolize, and how easily people with such power can abuse their responsibility” (source).

With what the TV showrunners had to work with, with the actual source material being a slog kinda to go through (the comics does have its share of good moments admittedly), as a whole I think it’s pretty impressive they’re able to update things to make modern social commentary which are relevant to us today (now, they can be admittedly a bit on the nose about it; one thing that stuck with me till now is how a writer friend I was watching the show with remarked how they’d thought BnHA did the superhero genre commentary much better) and somehow they were able to make a far superior TV adaptation just by paring down and changing a few things from the comics for the better so far (*knocks on wood 3x*). I will however always side-eye anyone who insist the comics is superior than the TV adaptation and loudly proclaim they won’t watch the show because “look how they massacred [insert comic character]” (now, to be fair, normally I would agree with this take but we’ve established The Boys (TV) is a special case; I would also understand if the comics had been the person’s first exposure and, hence, had become their fixation—but considering its intentionally offensive contents I am quietly side-eyeing them from the sidelines and keeping my mouth shut).

[brisquad-unit-4402]

AHHH OMG 4402 I JUST READ THE FIC YOU JUST WROTE AND IT WAS AMAZING ❤️❤️

I’M LITERALLY GONNA RE READ IT EVERYDAY ITS SO GOOD 🥲💕

Also I’m gonna be honest I kinda forgot about the request I made since it’s been awhile but when I saw this omg it was so worth the wait! You’re amazing 4402 <3

-🖋️

ah thanks 🖋! super glad you enjoyed it. it’s been a long time coming i’m sorry it took so long you forgot LMAOOOO

real talk sending asks on anon is so hard. you lose track of what you sent so easily. i almost wish this was a main blog just so i could say hey without inserting my full url at the end like a dork

anyways.

this fic was such a Project with a capital P that there were so many scenes and little bits i thought of writing, but eventually scrapped for brevity even though we all know that’s not my strong suit. here’s a list of some of my notes under the read more because of spoilers, most of them are more recent because they’re fresher in my memory lol.

for clarity’s sake here’s how i hc it when i write about these characters being vtubers: the models on screen are a more polished or stylized lookalike of the person behind the screen, but without some of the details of the real person. so basically while vtuber!ike looks like how we all know him, the ike you interact with during the off-collab also has blue-tipped hair and gold earrings that match his glasses chain, but doesn’t wear the same thing daily, shows a full range of emotion, and has, ya kno, pores and freckles and all that instead of anime skin. they’re identical but in different art styles lol. (obligatory disclaimer that i’ve always written for the characters and not the real people working for nijisanji, and that we do not encourage unhealthy parasocial relationships here)

i wanted to hone in on the friends-to-lovers dynamic as much as possible by establishing friend moments before the actual meat of the romance during the off-collab. same with establishing pen and paper as a common in-universe ship. i’m a believer that including these scenes only strengthens the dynamic between mc and li, even if they aren’t necessarily about them interacting!

in the same way i wanted to establish the comfort of being in love with your best friend just as much as the worry. the outlast scene is really tense but i wanted to write it so the dialogue there could apply to anyone comparing themselves to others. same with the last two scenes. one of the elements i love most in hurt/comfort is that they can be like little affirmations even when the reader is completely different from the insert. reader and ike have a million different insecurities about themselves but they rarely see what the other is so worried about because it’s just another part to love. and when they do see it, they’re still there for each other even if it’s as simple as a weird photo or as big as pining

while we’re at it SHOUT OUT TO AIA, MIKA AND ALBAN FOR BEING THE REALEST MFS EVER i loved writing those three interacting with reader. they’re so funny sometimes. and when they’re not, they also serve as great sober advice. they all have different ways of getting you there—aia is the “soft” one but encourages you to get out of your comfort zone when she sees an easy way in and out, alban is the one that tells it to you straight and gives godly advice because of it, and because she’s close with both you and ike, mika does a lot of work behind the scenes encouraging you both. but at the end of the day no matter what your love life looks like, those three are there asap if you need them, regardless if they’re online or in-person

in the meanwhile vox, nina, and mika serve as ike’s close circle of friends and i think that’s beautiful lmao. i didn’t make those four’s relationship that explicit but i like to think of it as a family dynamic of sorts. vox and nina are the patient parent figures while mika is a younger sister type, and all of them also hype ike up like how aia, mika and alban hype you up

and speaking of vox i wanted to include him referring to ike as his work husband, and maybe a more serious one-on-one advice/shovel talk with reader about ike. this was one of those things that was tricky to place in the order of scenes, so it was eventually scrapped

honestly i think this fic is more about the power of friendship than the power of love lmao. it’s a love letter to friends that would drop everything for you regardless if they see you romantically or not, just as well to friends that want you to get every bit of happiness you deserve

you can probably tell how much of this fic is ruled by close friendships down to the kiss scene. reader is pretty clumsy with their feelings, and ike is even worse (though reader never notices because they’re so worried about themselves). i have this hc that for his first kisses, ike would always ask before he goes in, but if it weren’t for that this would’ve been one of those mutual go-for-it wordless kisses, you know what i mean? where everything feels right and even righter when you realize the other person is also leaning in

ESPECIALLY WHEN READER BUMPS IKE’S GLASSESSSSSSSS one of my favorite things in fic is when it’s not always picture perfect and people mess up! and then roll with it! things happen irl including being clumsy but those things tend to be the parts that make things special. i said what i said about reader and ike always being there for each other even when they’re insecure and i meant it. especially because the happiness is so contagious that reader smiles before kissing back and how they both take a laugh break before kissing even more

ren’s ukulele is also a personal touch. it’s not a very grand feeling to just zone out with your friends while one of them plays music, but it is one that i hope everyone experiences once. it really is comfortable, and if you have a friend that’s a bit of a smartass like ren? it gets funny too

when this fic was in development around early april if i remember correctly, ren did a karaoke stream with iris, which was the moment i realized that was the perfect song to describe the fic. i mention a bunch of other songs but iris is the “theme song”. it’s romantic and pretty and intimate, but with an ukulele and nina casually singing along, it fits the comfortable vibe well

wannabe by the spice girls was chosen for the recognizable goofy factor alone. i mentioned motionless in white, my first story and spiritbox mostly because i’ve heard ike mention them before on stream, but spiritbox gets a special shoutout here because i’m pretty sure they’re one of the only ike band recommendations i actually like (talluh too if you include the two songs i’ve listened to). toxicity gets mentioned because, uh… i was watching gavis bettel’s birthday karaoke when that happened and he was too blasted to do system of a down but that just stuck with me. i also have to admit i never actually listened to the emo holy trinity and only knew one mcr song from guitar hero but luckily it’s recognizable and it’s in a wide enough range that i think most people could sing it. ahhh i wish writing lyrics in fic wasn’t so clunky! i have such a picture in my mind of how reader and ike would sing the breakdown and onward

vox singing george strait is pure self-indulgence and i am begging us all to imagine handsome from the cowboy asmr singing christmas cookies. i have been thinking about this since october 2022

the final bonus scene is a neat bow to explain the important parts of the off-collab as well as ike’s real feelings. after all, the fic was written with limited pov and one of the major sources of tension is that ike’s feelings aren’t explicitly stated until the second confession (and the high-stress q&a stream). i wanted it to be so reflective and fond that it feels like a victory lap, and reaffirm what reader and ike’s relationship actually means to him even though he struggles with articulating it out loud

that final scene also had the most ideas that ended up scrapped. this includes but is not limited to: ike telling chat about the cafe with reader but without admitting it was a date, alban teasing ike in the chat, reader teasing ike in the chat, confirming that uki and ren going cafe-hopping was actually so they could playfully gossip about the sexual tension in this airbnb, actual descriptions of the photos reader took, confirming that ike or reader stole the other’s shirt (ike is a smaller guy so i wanted to keep it ambiguous for any reader body types), redirecting to reader’s stream, ike and alban actually talking about why alban knows so much (and him giving ike a shovel talk), and maybe most tragic of all; a forum-style text post scene where the delulu fans get it right for once and guess that reader and ike are in a secret relationship

i might write the delulu fan forum fic one day for fun but if i do then i’m going to call this little series “the pliskinverse” unironically and im that is not a fate i want to impose upon anyone

the word ~ verisimilitude ~ recently entered my vocabulary from a review of the candle cove creepypasta. it basically means when fiction seems authentic, like how a kind character would have polite manners or how an evil villain would laugh completely different than the hero. you could say an ooc fanfic would lack verisimilitude for example. anyways i bring this up because that creepypasta is formatted like a forum thread with distinct personalities between the posters... just like how i wanted the chatters to come across! i don't think it's subtle but i did write them all with different personalities and interests in mind. maybe for fun you can look through them and figure out what team they all play for, even though i'm awful at coming up with fake usernames

it’s really obvious that one of my favorite tropes is shovel talks isn’t it

[ryuichirou]

When did Jamil come to the realization that he was a Bottom? That he enjoyed being the Bottom? You can’t convince me that Jamil didn’t go in fully believing he was gonna be a Top.

To be honest, I don’t think Jamil has ever had thoughts about these things prior to getting intimate with Kalim (I’ll use Kalim as an example because KaliJami is the most prominent Jamil ship). His life is full of other things he has to keep in mind and worry about at all times, and even though he’s super overstressed and should probably take some time to let himself ~relax~, getting with someone close enough to actually have sex sounds like a hassle to him. It’s much easier to just masturbate.

So, if he were to imagine himself having sex back then, he probably wouldn’t think outside the “default” box, which means he probably didn’t even think about “top” and “bottom” as categories that apply to him in any way, shape or form.

But once things between him and Kalim begin to get spicier and he realises that Kalim wants to have sex with him, everything will happen naturally… because Kalim definitely wasn’t planning on being a bottom either, he wasn’t even thinking about these things, he just wanted to touch Jamil. And Jamil is someone who gets naturally good at whatever he does, even if he’s still inexperienced, so…

Reflecting on everything that’s going on between them, Jamil could justify his position by thinking that he just gives in to Kalim’s whims, like he always does; but at the same time if he tried to imagine them switching places, he would probably think that bottoming is too difficult of a task for Kalim, and preparing him for it is just going to be another headache for none other than, yep, Jamil again. “It isn’t even worth it”, “it wouldn’t be appropriate, considering my status”, there are tons of excuses Jamil can come up with not to think about the fact that he kind of enjoys bottoming.

Of course, this is our interpretation, Anon. We’re not convincing anyone.

[remyfire]

I totally get not caring for a particular character or ship or something. We all have our own tastes. What I don’t understand is why some people feel the need to be total assholes towards those who do like a character or ship that they can’t stand.

On the flip side, some people do need to grow a thicker skin and accept the fact that not everyone likes their favorite character or ship or whatever.

This is one of those asks where unfortunately I’m not able to tell if you’re sending it to me in good faith or bad faith, which is a shame. I’m hoping it’s good faith, so I’d like to answer seriously and trust that you’ll take it that way also.

Let me start by saying that I don't believe anyone is under the impression that everyone should like their favorite character or ship. We're all adults here. We all know that preferences exist. It's a matter of how we choose to honor and respect those preferences.

There are absolutely instances where a thicker skin should be grown. I can think of a number of situations where that can happen, such as if people are having a civil discussion about things they disagree about, but because one of the parties feels uncomfortable, they start throwing pretty rough accusations or virtue signaling to try and make the conversation end as quickly as possible. I get it. It can feel super icky and squirmy if someone has a different viewpoint from ours. Sometimes it’s really hard just to say, “Hey, I feel a little cornered. I wanna check in that we’re both still feeling okay about this, and if we’re not, then I’d like to agree to disagree. We can just leave it here with mutual respect, all right?”

But there’re also times where it really doesn’t come down to someone being overly sensitive. It comes down to downright meanness and rudeness.

Let’s be honest. There is a very high probability that you and I both know what’s being talked about. I don’t have to spell it out. So let’s be frank with each other. If you go through one of these tags, post after post of insightful, creative, loving, funny, interesting commentary, and not a single rude or mean thing to be said. The other one, a similar situation, but interspersed with just outright rude, mean, and intentionally inflammatory comments that absolutely did not need to be put in the tag at all. There seems to be this belief that certain characters or ships are disliked with an equal amount of vehemence, like two warring factions. This is clearly not accurate.

This isn’t a situation where someone just needs to grow a thicker skin. If there is a ship/character tag that is completely left alone by the people who don’t care for it versus a ship/character tag that keeps getting rudeness filtered in every so often, this doesn’t mean that the latter group of enjoyers should just…not experience annoyance about it nor withhold expressing that annoyance. And again, there is a distinct difference between civil discussion/disagreement/opposing opinions and intentionally inflammatory statements. I like to believe that people can generally tell the difference between them and react accordingly.

Everyone is free to express their own thoughts on this platform as long as they’re not against TOS. We all know this and we all respect this. This applies also to how we choose to use tags. There is a generally understood etiquette that if you’re saying something just outright mean about a character or a ship, you don’t put it in that specific tag. This is not a requirement. No one is asserting that it is. It’s just a polite courtesy because we recognize that tags are used by the people who browse those characters/ships because they enjoy them, so we don’t typically like to rain on their parade.

But this also means that if someone says something rude—if someone walks into somebody’s sandbox and kicks sand in their eyes—then they have no room to whine if that person stands up and complains about it, and they really have no excuse for doubling down with EXTRA rudeness either. If someone tells us not to tease an animal, and we do it twenty times in a row anyway, then ultimately we are responsible for the fact that we were bitten.

Notably, I am saying this about all people involved in a fandom. Including those who are intentionally inflammatory in the tags of posts where they really did not need to commentate. There's a way to say, "I'm surprised by this and I really don't understand how we got here," without implying that anyone who disagrees is lacking in taste. Again, differing preferences. Respecting them. Standing up and walking away from the keyboard if we experience a big and overwhelming emotion in our chest so we can ensure that we don't just kick a hornet's nest for the sake of feeling personally superior. So anyway! After that big long ramble, I’m happy to say that I agree with you. I just also believe in people’s right to express annoyance—especially if it’s untagged and on their own blog—when someone shows up and, again, kicks the sand around. And hell, for all I know, maybe you agree with that too and I made some assumptions about this ask out of habit due to some particularly awful anon asks that I’ve gotten recently. But I’d really, really like it if there was less sandkicking all around because, y’all, I really like it here. I love all of these characters and ships so fucking much. You only have to glance at my AO3 page to see that. And I’d really like to keep having fun with you all instead of flinching every time Tumblr yet again recommends me a super intentionally inflammatory post in a tag that I follow.

[theycallmenub]

-2- Eager Men

Warning: Vulgarity (ig?)

“Captain Usopp, here’s the water you requested.”

“Oh great Captain Usopp, your sniper skills are amazing!”

“Captain Usopp, look over here~”

If there were ever a time to be Usopp, it would be now.

The Strawhats had decided to stay one night for the sake of gathering food and finding their swordsman. If they so happened to stumble upon a man-eating monster, then they’d just have to defeat it.

It would be a pretty scary ordeal, just…not yet.

Usopp liked to live in the present, after all, and the present was being oh-so-kind to him.

Once they agreed to “help” the villagers, they were left to their own devices. Sanji got caught up with helping Nami take the island’s measurements after being wooed and Luffy was keeping the cooks busy with his hours empty stomach.

Which left Usopp on his lonesome.

Out of boredom, he took his slingshot and started hitting some targets from afar. Those who’d been training stopped, turning to look at the long-nosed man who flung his shots from the end of the beach. It wasn’t long before they approached him. First it was comments of how good he was, then how great, and before long he’d made his name known throughout the villagers.

He’ll admit that it wasn’t what he was expecting, but the regality that came with it was almost addicting!

“Sir Usopp, with your skills alone, you can kill the monster without any of your crewmen!”

…keyword: almost.

“…s-say that again?”

The same old man who’d filled them in on the situation had been by his side after being ignored by the ship’s actual captain. Usopp figured he was fishy.

“It’s true! If we’re being completely honest, all our training is just for comfort. There’s no real plan of attack, and - heh, we were hoping you folks could do it for us.”

Apparently, he was worse than fishy. He was rotten.

Face no longer painted, Usopp could see his eyes wrinkle with ease as he smiled; but couldn’t find any reason to do so himself.

“To think we could find solace in a long nose like you!” He laughed.

“Now you’re just being plain rude.”

The old man rubbed his hands together, voice loud and full of intention, “So you’ll help us kill the zombie, right?!”

The sniper wished he’d just gone back to the ship, “Hey, th-this isn’t what we-“

“Really, Captain Usopp?!”

“You’re the best, Captain Usopp!”

“He’s the Great Captain Usopp for a reason!”

His eyes darted to the passerbyers who flocked to encourage him. And for a moment, he wondered whether he should fall for this obvious provocation. One one hand, he could disappoint them and wait for the others to do their thing. The phrase “sharing is caring” applies to every and anything, especially glory…

Or, he could actually do it. All these people wanted to see him save the day - er, night.

And how was he gonna let these guys down when he hadn’t even seen the monster? So what if they made it sound super creepy and ghoulish? They’re small-town people who probably haven’t seen much.

Plus, if it became to more than he could handle, he could just run away.

In the little time he was given to answer, he managed to convince himself that anything was possible and that he’d be able to get his crewmen out by sun up.

“I’ll do it!”

The people cheered, unaware of the danger that truly loomed through their island.

—

“Help-lplplplplp....”

“I’m pretty sure…you did this to yourself…” Zoro muttered, watching as the man slowly sank into a pond. It had been a few minutes since tragedy struck the swordsman’s eyes, but he was quick to regain his composure. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to stand right next to the nightmare itself.

Bugs.

Just a shit ton of bugs.

Things that looked like beetles, things that looked like flies, and things that looked like things. While it was unsettling to wonder how and why so many crawled out of him, Zoro had already determined that he was far from normal.

Watching him roll in the water like a roast pig strengthened the fact.

“What the hell are you doing..?” He asked.

The man stopped mid-roll and sat up, hair stuck to his face as he replied, “Ree..k.”

Zoro raised a brow, “A one-word response again. It’s annoying.”

He was ignored as the freak stiffly hoisted himself up. The clothes he wore were soaked into darker shades, clinging to his figure; which wasn’t as scrawny as Zoro thought. One, two, three steps were taken toward the swordsman and he instinctively covered his nose. Seconds passed as he stood before him, hair sticking to the sides of his face enough to see some distinguishing features. Blue veins prominently stretching from his eyes and lips. Hazy dilated eyes that held a shimmer akin to life. A mole that kissed his cheek and another on the underside corner of his lip.

Having been distracted, his hand fell from his face and he realized the smell wasn’t unbearable anymore.

His head lopped lightly, and he tried to take another step forward. Zoro would have let him, but, “Okay, buddy, hold it.”

He still couldn’t hash out a motive.

“You don’t seem bad,” the bugs restlessly scattered to the man, “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna trust a total stranger.” Accompanied by the statement was his hand resting on the handle of the first sword he could reach. The dilated eyes followed while he bent to the ground, arm extended like some bridge for the critters. They crawled up, but the creep only gazed at the blades, not scared or confused or alert - more curious than anything. The swordsman couldn’t begin to imagine where his mind was, considering there were literal demons from hell coming up his arms. Just thinking about the feeling made him sick.

“St…bad?”

Zoro’s brows knit intricately, “I don’t know you. You don’t know me.” He pulled the sword enough for the blade to glint in the dusk light of the sun, “So how come you’re so…eager?”

The truth behind this matter was that Zoro lost something, got lost, and ran into a freak of nature. Thereafter was a sequence of confusion, disgust, and overall intrigue; yet he would rather compliment the chef, at this point, than admit the latter…

But what should it matter to him?

In light of this, the swordsmen sheathed whatever he’d shown with ill intent and turned to walk the other way.

He was sure his curiosity would die as he set his sights on looking for his bandana again. Zoro needed to find it before the Going Merry left him.

…

But maybe it would have been easier if he weren’t constantly mulling over what he’d heard the man say last.

“...eager…me?”

—

“OH NAMI! HOW CAN YOU BE SO LIGHT? LIKE A PURE FEATHER PLU–”

“Yeah yeah, thanks for taking the fall for me. But…uh”

Where were they?

This island hadn’t been charted on any map she had, so felt it was her duty to jot down the notes so she could add it to her world map. Besides the spooky story and the weird inhabitants, it was a relatively normal island. About an hour had passed since the two left the beach, and they’d completed their measurements without trouble at all.

That was until the ground fell under them on their way back.

Nami dusted herself off as she took in whatever surroundings she could with the moonlight from the hole above them.

“Guess you can find caves anywhere, huh?” Sanji commented.

“It doesn’t feel like a cave.” She whispered, feeling to see if there were any walls around. The closest one was to their left, an arm’s length into the dark. It felt cold and wet like she was tapping a dog on its nose - but obviously, it wasn’t.

Right?

“It’s weird how the closer we get to the Grandline, the weirder things get. First, that massive storm in Loguetown, then meeting Apis and Grandpa Ryu…can’t forget about the time I got kidnapped with the ship,” Nami ranted, unaware of how Sanji’s face cringed.

“Maybe that’s why I can’t help feeling nervous about this place. Anything that could be normal never is. Let’s get out of here, Sanji.” She put a hand on his shoulder and it almost sent a shiver down his spine.

Not only was she super cool when she was serious, but her touch was super soft and her nails were super pretty and he could smell the citrus up close–

“SANJI, NOW!”

Nami smacked him as harshly as she could, a bump forming at the top of his head as their surroundings…huh.

Looking back, perhaps she’d caused the cave to tremble the way it had.

It roared and would have taken the two by surprise if it weren’t for Nami’s previous analysis. She was quick to hop into Sanji’s arms and the two cracked their heads up to their exit out of there. He bent his knees and could have easily reached the outside.

Could have.

There were three things Sanji loved in this world. Cooking, women, and women’s endearing features. Just as he was about to land, Nami’s arms, which were already around his neck, drew him closer as she braced for the impact.

The cook hadn’t even realized their position until her face was right next to his. His third eye couldn’t even open before he calculated how their lips were 21 degrees from a “K-K-KISS!?”.

Also, her breasts were extremely close to his face.

He stumbled back in shock.

They fell back into the hole.

And in the usual, mysterious nature Nami had previously spoken of, the ground closed in, covering it entirely; as if it had never been there.

The only evidence that the earth had swallowed them whole was–

“SANJI, YOU IDIOT!”

Nami’s relentless anger.

[jangyeevns]

in reference to this post, i’m gonna have a lax little group set in huntington beach, california and surrounding muses ages 21-45 ( maybe 50.. i’ll tweak soon when i decide ) because older muses deserve a place too !! i’m capping it at ten muns for now and it’ll be moots/friends/vibe check clearance exclusive for maximum comfort for everyone. basic rules and info are as follows:

obviously, no god-modding, ship/face-chasing, bubble roleplaying, ooc drama, generally abusive, insensitive or intolerant behaviour, etc or you’re out ! we’re all adults here, so while i’ll intervene when something is brought to my attention, i should assume we all know how to act for these tough and uncomfortable conversations to be avoided or handled privately and considerately.

age ( outside of established rule in next point ) and race-bending are also BIG no’s so let’s not do that, yeah?

muses, fcs and muns must be 21+ to be considerate of ages of majority in some parts, and the rule for aging a muse will be +/- 4 years per the fc’s current age.

recent community fuckery has me adding this, smh. if shipping/having romantic connections comes about, do consider the ages of both muse and fc and not indulge in massive age gaps or power imbalances; chemistry is so valid, but we also have to bear in mind the implications of a 30+ year old fc being with a 22 year old fc, especially as 21 is the youngest age accepted.

you can apply with 2 muses with one being gender, body or racially diverse since i’m not about to facilitate a white and cis as fuck environment because there’s no reason in 2023 ?? this goes for every second muse you pick up when additional muses are allowed once things kick off.

banned fcs shouldn’t have to be rattled off like crazy since lots of lists exist for people who don’t wish to be used and we know most of the problematic people to be wary of, but for those who are either still used in abundance or conflict with personal comfort ( which muns can add onto once accepted ), they include: the hadids, the jenners, kj apa, cole sprouse, nicola peltz, justin bieber, timothée chalamet, ester exposito, dove cameron, danna paola, legacies cast, angus cloud, any zionist, pro-trump or anti-blm tools, sabrina carpenter, george sear, gavin leatherwood, matt daddario, josefine frida pettersen.

interest checks will be on a weekly basis since we all have work, school and other commitments to prioritize at times and rp is a hobby ! since this won’t be an open group, activity checks and hiatuses won’t be mandatory at the moment.

THE APP !

[ faceclaim, age, gender, pronouns ] — i think i just saw FIRST LAST leaving the pier with AESTHETIC ITEM + AESTHETIC ITEM in hand. you haven’t heard of them? they’re a/n OCCUPATION from HOMETOWN, living in NEIGHBOURHOOD and you can always find them at THEIR FAVOURITE SPOT. i don’t know, they seem pretty - NEGATIVE to most, but i thought they were + POSITIVE when i spoke to them; we’ll just have to wait and see what else they have in store for us. [ mun name/alias, age, pronouns, tz ]

feel free to add extras to get a feel for your muse ! it doesn’t impact acceptance if i’m being honest, but i always love a little insight if someone’s even willing to provide it LMAO

SAMPLE APP !

[ tingting_lai, 22, cis woman, she/her ] — i think i just saw PHOEBE ZHU leaving the pier with A SCRUNCHIE COORDINATED TO HER OUTFIT + RASPBERRY PEACH ITALIAN SODA in hand. you haven’t heard of them? they’re a STUDENT/RETAIL CLERK from SOUTHPORT, CONNECTICUT, living in GOLDENWEST and you can always find them at THE BEACH. i don’t know, they seem pretty - PERFECTIONISTIC to most, but i thought they were + EBULLIENT when i spoke to them; we’ll just have to wait and see what else they have in store for us. [ jules, 25, she/her, nt ]

TAKEN FCS !

tingting_lai, bianca lawson

MUN COUNT + FCS !

tbd !

[buzzdixonwriter]

Dear [NAME REDACTED]

Dear [NAME REDACTED]:

I recently placed an order with your company.  You offer free shipping for orders of $XX or more.  However, when I tried to place my order your site would not process it until I checked the $X standard shipping box. I would like the $X shipping fee returned to my account and to be billed only the $XX of my order.

Best,

Buzz Dixon

. . .

Hi Buzz,

 The minimum amount for shipping is $XXX. We offer free shipping on $XX orders for first time customers if you sign up for our mailing list and receive a coupon.

[NAME REDACTED]

. . .

Hi, [NAME REDACTED]! 

I went looking for the pop-up ad you used to have when placing an order but couldn't find it.  I wanted to take a screenshot to show how the wording would mislead customers into thinking they received the free shipping ///either/// on a $XX order ///or/// being a first time customer, not a combination of the two.

The pop-up no longer appears on your site when I look for it.  Whether this is because your site now recognizes my email address and knows not to display it again or because you opted to take it down, I don't know.

If you did opt to take it down, you'll certainly agree that a reasonable person could infer you recognized the phrasing -- unintentionally, I'm sure -- would mislead customers.  I'm 70 years old and worked all my life as a writer and an editor, so I'm sure you'll agree a reasonable person would say I know how words work.

Now, here's the situation we face:   

On the one hand, you could say: "We recognize how an honest mistake could be made here and rather than lose a valued customer who is likely to keep buying from us if he feels we're responsive to his legitimate complaint, let's refund his $X shipping charge as a show of good faith." 

On the other hand, you could say: "This asshole has nothing better to do all day but sit at his keyboard generating emails that ultimately will cost us more than $X to respond to; let's not waste any more time on this and give the whiny bastard his money back."

To be frank, I don't care which option we proceed with so long as I get my $X refund.

Sincerely,

Buzz Dixon

. . .

Hi Buzz,

Thanks you for letting us know. We refunded you the $X shipping and please allow several business days for funds to appear back into your account. For future orders, free shipping is only available for order over $XXX before shipping and taxes are applied.

Please let us know if you have any more questions.

[NAME REDACTED]

. . .

Dear [NAME REDACTED],

Thank you!

Buzz

 © Buzz Dixon

[aredpainting]

freewrite 09/25/21

EJS

Morgana

Ocean Yamai wasn't entirely sure why his station across the harbor deemed so important to his superiors. In truth, he figured he belonged better in the gambling rings, where his magic could scope out any potential schemers or moonlighters, ready to doom the den with their fist of justice. Instead, he heard his comrades murmur something about how his rounds around the clashing waves, the call of seagulls and sailors seemed fitting. Of course it does, he thought to himself as he placed his rifle against the rough of his palm. He found his mouth in a frown- a deep frown, unsettled and irritated. He wanted to call out to them earlier, his comrades- damn, he hated that word. Comrades, barely; they were not brothers to him. The men that crowded the Peony Publishing House, the men who acted as the local witchwatch, did little to stir his loyalty. Ocean remembered his real comrades, back in the war. It seemed so long ago. So long ago, another war took Raecan by its hair and drowned her beauty into the deep, unforgiving waters.

It took Morgana nearly five years to rebuild after Saphria's wrath. In Mogǎian, the native language of Raecan, they called her the i̊kǔn. The Bloodhunter. Sometimes they would refer to her in a more distinctive way, the way anyone would recognize her- the Homunculi, or the Alchemist. He shuddered. Ocean tried to remove the talons of her destruction from his mind, but it became difficult over the years; he watched friends and family alike fall apart. They struggled to find financial stability after Morgana's shops- shops that they all worked for, most of them employed since birth- became nothing but rubble amongst her army. Or their homes, once warded to keep the i̊kǔn at bay when she was only a legend. All of it, the foundation of life as they knew it, snatched away from their fingers. And he felt sorry through all of it. Most of his time in the Second War he spent as intel. He watched his brothers in arms come back into their make-shift hut, created by faulty elk skin and dried wood, all battered and bloody from combat. When he was younger, he would've cursed himself for being weak. But his strength lay with his affinity for water; from the hut, across the shores of Awuna into the Gorge, he could feel every pull from the waves. He'd been granted a high position among the Raecan Navy Forces, but mostly to direct ships and such into the correct ports. And now, as Ocean stood over the harbor, his clammy hands now deep in his grey witchwatch uniform, he felt smaller than he felt before. His comrades must've realized this, as a fat hand clamped over his shoulder and shook him from his reverie. "Yamai," his comrade said in a thick Khemeian accent, "we're switching off now." One glance into the Khemeian's dark eyes, full of humor and life, made Ocean nod sheepishly. He said nothing, but he trapped his rifle across his back and started for the street across the Peony Publishing House. But before he could stagger another step towards the gravel road, his unfocused gaze met an open window. At first, he imagined the gamblers in the House needed fresh air- a waft of the sea breeze could clear anyone's mind. Of course, the Publishing House wasn't truly a home for books; but a poor front for the local cerulean-clad gang, the Pearled Oysters. The witchwatch, a city-council made unit, became the biggest bribery known to Morgana. Their Commander's faith lay in greed, and in greed the men followed. Most of Ocean's comrades were freshly released prisoners, and they applied to the witchwatch as an opportunity to turn their lives around. And it was honest work. Ocean told himself many times that it was not illegal to work as guards for the second-most feared gang in Morgana. They worked under a contract, a contract overseen by the City Council of Raecan. So it was fine. Then another window opened. Ocean shifted his weight onto his left leg, and he craned his neck in hopes he could see the interior of the Peony Publishing House. He heard stories of its magnificent leather seats and velvet throw pills. The pretty girls who worked the bars, the men who walked in with bags filled with gold and women who dressed themselves in real fur coats. All of them hoped to make some impression in the upper-levels of Morgana. Ocean one day wanted to be apart of that, if his luck granted him. And before he could divulge into a deeper daydream, three windows opened, then the front door, followed by a winded scream. The hairs on his arms bristled, and his fingers found their way over his bandolier.  He awkwardly threw his rifle into his hand, his thumb set prematurely onto the trigger as the rest of the stationed witchwatch fell into a fighting stance. "Help me!" cried out a voice, deep and smooth, like a siren's call. No one moved- not yet. Another window slammed itself from its hinges, and the force allowed the glass to give into its pull; clear shards fell from the second floor. The day-lit street grew quiet. The shoppers and tourists paused to watch the scene; but the eerie silence and the cowered cries from inside the Peony Publishing House only seemed to grow. "Help me!" The voice called again, but this time closer. Ocean braced himself, and he cursed under his breath because he took the clearest position across the front door. "Help me!" From the threshold limped out a girl- no younger than his comrades, fresh into their adulthood. Her cream hair fell over her shoulders and pooled across her chest, and her bronze skin looked pallor. Her palms, flat against her tattered dress bunched the fabric together as she came into the sunlight. Patrons across the street gasped, some grabbed their children and fled further from the House. "What is your business," said the Khemeian as he pointed the mouth of his rifle to her. Her honeyed eyes turned wide. "No- no, please! I mean you no harm- please! There are slavers inside, they have come to take me away again. Please, please!" The girl scrambled onto her feet, approached the Khemeian and opened her hands to him. "You keep your wits about you, girl. There are no slavers in Morgana. Only rich men and women who pay for their indentured servants." He raised his boot and crushed his heel into her stomach. Ocean winced. She fell back with a thud, her head slammed into the gravel as the Captain approached her. His heel found its way to her forehead, and he pressed. "Now return to your House, qengkhů." Ocean continued to stand, shaken by the cruelty and ashamed at his own fear. He wanted to interfere, to show the qengkhů  kindness, but he could not possibly risk his rank for a stranger. "Yamai! Escort her inside." He swallowed hard, nodded and walked towards the head of white hair. With his rifle turned onto his back, he reached a hand for her- a hand for her to stand up. But she didn't move. Apart of him wondered if she fell so hard, she became unconscious. And as he crouched to move her body upright, to see her if she were awake, her body folded into a knelt position. Her breathing became harsh, and the hand that was once outstretched pushed onto the ground to stand. "Good girl," his Captain said, satisfied. Ocean pursed his lips together. He didn't know what to do. Strangely, while he anticipated her to burst into another plea, he knew deep inside his heart another i̊kǔn was released into the world. Or perhaps... something worse? "I have been sent here by the Codex." Her deep voice, once filled with silk and earnest evaporated. An ancient rage, one Ocean could not place, started to reverberate through his bones. "You are a fool. The Codex has ceased to exist. Now stand do-" The Khemeian Captain jolted up. His chest heaved, and he rose from the ground. Ocean watched as the girl's hands lifted into the air, her fingers curled together. The Captain's neck split. Creamy bone peaked from his flesh as blood started to stain the streets. "I have been sent here by the Codex," the girl repeated as her arms fell to her side. In a timely fashion, so did the Captain's corpse. She looked to Ocean then, her gaze far away, "And I see no future for this town." ---

Kloadou

Sonja

Sonja Linch wasn't entirely sure how she arrived at the run-down, mildew infested tavern. The clock struck half past three in the morning, but the life of the small building looked to be immortal. She snorted to herself, silently amused by the drunkards who stumbled and slammed their scarred fingers against the birch table. They'd been so far gone, she supposed they looked past the compact mirrors of the woman beside him. She looked to be a natural thief, gifted with the sleight of hand and a bold demeanor. The type of woman Sonja admired. The type of woman she'd typically arrest. But tonight, she was off-duty. After her week long travel across the globe, from Aurium back home to Raecan, she swore to herself when her feet hit land. Sonja could remember her initial thoughts when the muggy city of Morgana came into the horizon. She gave her thanks to the Deities who listened, and she promised herself never to embark on another sea-wrought voyage. And now, as Sonja settled into the poorly dyed leather chair, her gloved hands splayed across the bar, and her eyes fervent to the patrons around her, she felt the vague yearning for the sea breeze and the salty air. As much as she loved her home, she loved to travel. While Saphria's wrath took hope and lives from the majority of her country, Saphria gave her an opportunity. Naturally, Sonja would never admit this to her peers, or even her closest relatives. They'd brand her as an extremist, link their as i̊kǔn heritage together and make do with her as they did with all sympathizers. She would spent her long, long lifetime in the Wyvern's Mouth. Then they'd say she committed treason of the highest degree, and any chance of normalcy would escape her. In any case- the Bloodhunter did  give her a chance at a new life. Previously, Sonja worked as a Colonel for the International Enforcers of Magi. They did little against the ruins of the worlds, its cities, towns and farmland alike. They failed. In turn, Kara De la Cruz, the Overseer and Controller of the Magi Council deemed their services... useless. A brutal way to end her dream career, sure, but Sonja never had the guts to aspire for something greater. It was fun, sometimes, when she'd run around the metropolis of every large country- she would catch criminals, fugitives, felons of the highest degree and conspirators against the Somnum Deities. Whatever that meant. Sonja took a swig at her cognac, sighed in relief and craned her head to the clock. "Little bastards are late," she muttered to herself as she waved the barmaid for another drink. Sonja propped her cheek into her palm. Three years ago, in the midst of the country's reconstruction, Sonja spied three monsters that would change her life forever. Maybe four monsters, but Neryee Lloyd Song had been a constant pain in her ass for as long as she could feel the thrums of blood course through every living soul on Somnum. The three troublemakers, her trouble makers- as her Lieutenant would say- arrived at the front door of their Embassy. They looked crazed, dazed, but worst of all, they looked alive. From her window on the second floor, Sonja could make out their features; they looked to be in their late teens, possibly pushing eighteen to nineteen. She remembered how young they looked, how fragile and rosy they seemed compared to the hardened Lieutenant and his stern expression. They came to the Embassy in hopes of mentorship. Sanjeet Mayhews, the Lieutenant General of her brigade laughed in their faces. He slapped a hand into his knee, ushered the children back onto the front steps and told them to leave when Nornya, the capital city of Aurium and home to the Embassy, needed demolition men. Demolition men because they couldn't keep their wits about them. Something in their youth made them frenzied, earnest and hungry for action. In the Embassy, they would find none of that. Only paperwork and hard labor; the occasional monstrous protocol, but the field magi deployed by the Creature Council often took the limelight. But the damned pests had been relentless. Even when the notorious Nornya fog cloaked the streets, haunted the shops and dimmed the Enchanted street lamps, they arrived at their front steps. When the fog grew so thick, it looked like a fire had started in the forest, the thunder and lightning would roll in to emphasize the bad weather. Only when they were soaked, and when Sanjeet could hear their teeth chatter beyond the door, did he provide them shelter. It had been a particularly slow day at the Embassy, so Sonja felt silently grateful he allowed some entertainment into their cave. When their days looked gloomy, or impossibly burdened because of the Magi Council's incessant paperwork to terminate their services, those three troublemakers always seemed to make their days. The eldest of the three, Tess Yang, a winged boy gifted with the power- or perhaps curse- of foresight, broke the air of familiarity when he walked in with broken wings. His friends, Lesley and Ecru arrived before him, already warm in their coats and steamed milks. They looked bewildered- more than usual- when Tess bursted into tears. It amazed Sonja how vulnerable he appeared to be. She could feel his heart break and the tremors of pain consume him with every wail and write in Ecru's arms. "Who did this?" Lesley finally asked wher ehen the room went quiet. Lesley Abe, the apparent leader of their ragtag crew, had created a particular reputation for himself around Nornya. "Who did this?" He repeated, his words now laced with anger, fear and grief for his friend's loss. Sanjeet already rang up the local healer to mend Tess' wings as best as they could. He only hung around the threshold, his huge arms crossed over one another in an observant manner. His chiseled face had been set into a look of sympathy. The faintest look of rage pinched his expression when Tess started to speak, so mangled and somber. "I didn't see it coming. I was out by the Alma Mater, I only wanted to fit in with the students. I got in trouble for mingling with them, the Head Boy scolded me when they seen I was dressed like a commoner." Tess frowned, tried to flex his wings but instead winced and continued. "I said sorry. I said I was going to go, but they pulled me by my feathers and-" "You don't need to say any more, Tess," Ecru interrupted, her voice soft. But even with her indecipherable face, she wrestled with the fury that bubbled from her eyes. "It will be all right." She reached out to rub his shoulder, and he murmured something in Aurlish that only they could understand. "It will be all right." Only Lesley stood from his seat. His burnt hands bunched into fists as he moved from the lobby into the foyer. He grabbed his coat, flattened out his auburn hair and said to no one in particular, "I'll handle it." ---

Neryee

"What do you mean they're missing?" Sonja hissed, her teeth barred when she slapped away the muslin divider. In the Fortuna, there was no telling what hallway would lead to door, or a divider. Neryee enjoyed the open space. "They're missing, love," Neryee replied as her gaze set along the sharps of her nails. A vermillion red, her signature color, the color of her Fortuna and her power. "Lesley darling hadn't checked in this morning. I sent my girls out for a sweep over the town. Nothing over Kloadou or Morgana. Do you understand?" She set her nimble fingers over the desk. "It's out of my control now." "Well, how long have they been missing? Perhaps only Lesley's gone out for holiday." Sonja pressed, her gloved hands a stark contrast to the manicured set across from her. She knocked her knuckles into the oak, desperate for an answer. "That would be unlikely, Sonja. You know it." Neryee sighed, impassive and eager to dive into her paperwork. A rare occurrence, but she had no time to deal with the emotional outburst Sonja throttled. She felt nearly nothing for the children who wound up as her minions in the Fortuna. Sonja would have corrected her, told her they were not children, they were young adults who wanted to fight for a cause. Perhaps not a good one, since the Fortuna operated as the biggest gang across Morgana and Kloadou. She kept merchants, councilmen and the witchwatch across villages and towns in her pocket. She had no time for heroes. Neryee Lloyd Song was a criminal, through and through. With every han that fell into her pocket, another life became indebted to her. And with every life, meant more han. There was no time for affection, no tenderness or love in her life. All that mattered to Neryee was riches and more riches. "Can you do something about it? I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't concerned, Neryee," the Blood mage asked, her voice quiet. Rarely did Sonja plea. On better days, Neryee would've enjoyed it. She liked to see her former enemy, the holy Enforcer, on her knees. But apart of her, the part that lived in humanity and cherished every thrush of emotion, felt sorrow for Sonja. They lived completely different lives now, and if Neryee wasn't so consumed in her own work, she would've believed that Sonja began to lean on these children for support. Ever since Sanjeet passed away in the Second War, the Blood mage was lost. She prayed every night, asked sages of every kind to cure her ailment- the ailment of a broken heart- but nothing quite helped. Only when Lesley and his small crew returned, she saw a semblance of light in her eyes. And maybe when she had humanity, when she wasn't so captivated by greed, Neryee would've liked to be the cause of her recovery. But things were different. Before the Second War took all of their lives in an impossible grasp, Neryee imagined a quaint and quiet life with Sonja. Even when they nipped at one another's throats, she loved the bravery that shone in her eyes. She had been deeply jealous of Sonja's friendship with Sanjeet, and she hated to admit it, but they completed one another. If soulmates existed, if souls mattered in the grand scheme of things, Neryee could acknowledge how fated they were to be in one another's lives. It crushed Sonja when her brother in arms, her mentor and her best friend died in the Second War. Not only him, but his family, too. Neryee likened Sonja's panic now to the last thread of her sanity; if not for Lesley, Tess and Ecru, she thought Sonja would go mad. And she looked to be on the brink of madness. After a long pause, Neryee tossed her golden hair behind her shoulders and sighed. "Fine." She waited for Sonja's reaction, a habit she formed when they were closer. All she could hear, with her eyes averted to the window, was a breath of relief. "I'll send my best tracker, but you're indebted to me now, Linch." She smoothed out her surname like a drink of whiskey and smiled to myself. "We'll discuss payments later, but I'm sure you'll be happy to sign my contract now." A single snap of her fingers and a wave of her hand summoned a smooth sheet of paper and pen onto her desk. Small remnants of flame danced at the edges, a token of her magic. Sonja said nothing, hunched over the contract and started to sign her name. "And another favor, Neryee. I'm sure you've heard of the commotion up in Morgana, no? Your biggest rival just fell out of the market. Have you heard why?" The question lingered in the air. Neryee turned in her chair, retrieved a slender cigarillo from her draw and lit with the tip of her index. "Another Codex zealot, but with a killer's instinct." She replied and huffed out smoke from her nose. "I like to stay out of sectarian news, you know that. I figured you wouldn't care either, seeing how you got cut from the Magi Council." "It would be nice to have another Blood mage on your crew, zealot or not. If you'd be able to recruit her, you'd have the entirety of Raecan tied over your finger." "I appreciate the kibitz, love, but I don't need another Blood mage. You would've been fine, or if Ecru ever continued her studies with the sages, I would be satisfied. But my girls don't need another witch to rely on. They need to focus on their smarts, their guts and their fists." Neryee sucked in her teeth, lowered her cigarillo from her mouth and contemplated her next words. "And it does matter if she's a zealot, by the way. The Codex does not exist anymore, and even if it did, I make my own fortune." When the gentle scratches of the pen's blade ceased, she threw her hand up, and the contract disappeared in a whimsical flame. "Now, leave. I'll keep you updated on your brats, but you must let me work." Sonja said nothing. She shoved her hands into her pockets, bowed to the back-turned Neryee and slouched out the curtain. Stupid Neryee, she thought to herself when she escaped the pangs of music, the ambience of laughter and dance and stood outside the grand Fortuna. I would've liked to stay for a chat.

Xurio

Copen

Esra

In the grand scheme of things, as Neryee liked to say, nothing truly mattered. When Esra was no younger than ten, he'd been recruited by the Fortuna. He found himself in Morgana with only ten han to his name. The slavers who carried him from Xurio and somehow managed past the Raecan borders told him he'd be no good in the whorehouses, gambling dens or even as a runner because of his ugly mug. He didn't understand then, because the men spoke only Mogǎian. It was quite different from his own language, the standard language that most Xuro spoke. Mogǎian sounded rough and gritty. It lacked any particular roundness. If he'd been kept in school longer, Esra thought he might've learned the bare bones of Mogǎian. But he only spoke Xurohan. So the slavers dropped him into the heart of Morgana. They kept his clothes, his shoes and even his hair. Esra couldn't survive on the streets for long; even as a boy, he knew that. The winter in Morgana felt like a mild summer compared to his home in Copen, the second largest city in Xurio. And it made him feel grateful, because despite the terrible reality that awaited him, he could at least feel safe when the cold pinched his cheeks. It took a week for Esra to wind up in an alley, dehydrated and starving. He used his last han on a glass of milk. For days, he couldn't stomach food, so he survived with cups of milk and the occasional drink of water. Esra could remember the cement beneath his ribs, his clothes so thin that even his hardened Xuro skin could not battle the cold. He felt a gentle nudge against his back. And when he looked up, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his entire life stood before him. She looked to be as old as his eldest brother, probably fifteen or so. Her conic amber eyes pierced through his frail body, and the waves of blonde washed out her pale complexion. A hand moved in his direction, and he felt arms thrown over his body. "Take him to the carriage." The girl said in perfect Xurohan. She sounded like a princess. Or an evil step-daughter, like in the fairytales. "I want him cleaned and dressed before father comes home. Tell them I've brought home a new tracker." She only spared him one last glance before she disappeared further into the alley, followed by armed men of the witchwatch. "A tracker?" Esra managed to say when he arrived at the Song Manor. In the carriage, they fed him pieces of bread and cheese, careful to watch his ravenous feast. They didn't want Neryee's new prospect to keel over from food poisoning. He didn't know why he didn't fight when they grabbed him. Perhaps he understood that the Reaper waited for him, at the end of the alley in where Neryee glided through. That if he didn't take the opportunity that thrusted into his lap, he would die. "You're Xuro, yes? Xuros make excellent trackers, this is known across the world, boy. Your kind have a special connection to mana. They didn't teach you this in school?" His kind? Esra hopped out of the carriage. His fingers felt warm when the handmaidens took them into their gloved palms. "I didn't get to see a lot of school," he replied softly. "The slavers took me when I barely finished my third term." The handmaidens didn't reply. They entered past the doors, and Esra was greeted by the sickly-sweet smell of cinnamon. The whole manor- cinnamon. There stood ivory pillars around the foyer, the floor glistening with marble so clear, he saw his reflection. Around him, servants, maids and butlers of every kind walked through the grand halls; they dressed in chiffon, a special linen guaranteed to make them feel and look wealthy. Esra gawked for hours when the handmaidens explained to him his new life. Esra's life would be indebted to the Song clan. While he was no slave, he was an indentured servant. But the handmaidens reassured him that this was the best servitude that one could dream of. A well-cared for life, where everyone was fed, clothed and shared a brilliant roof over their heads. He would undergo special lessons to enhance his tracker abilities, and he would learn the art of combat, stealth, learn to read and write. Most importantly, he would speak not only Xurohan, but Mogǎian, Khemeian and Aurmese. Only his freedom would be taken, but there was little freedom in the world, anyways. By the time Neryee sent word of his new mission, he finally arrived home to Copen. He spent the next eleven years under her; as her spy, her intel but favorably, as her tracker. He looked to her as nothing but his boss. He knew she only remembered him when she needed someones' hands to get dirty. And he could live like that. One day, he would tell her that she saved his life, but Neryee didn't like theatrics. Which was why the letter she sent him that morning took him by surprise. Neryee wrote to him: "My underling, Your newest mission is dear to my heart. Sonja Linch requests your services in finding her kin. Their names are Lesley Abe, Tess Yang and Ecru Belmont. You're expected to return them to Kloadou, alive and well. Do what you must to track these three. Spare me the gritty details, and only report when you've found something monumental. I've added particular descriptions of these brats further in the envelope. Your payout, when you return to Morgana, will be fifty thousand han. Good luck. Best wishes, Neryee Lloyd Song. PS: Keep me updated on that Codex fanatic, will you?" Esra slid the letter into his breast pocket. He lifted his hand there, a reminder of his work and freedom. Fifty thousand han was not enough to pay his servitude, but he saved every payout in hopes to live a life where he could enjoy what he pleased. Where he could thank Neryee for her kindness all those years ago and move forward in life. He owed a rising accumulation of over forty billion han to the Song clan. Apparently, Xuro lives were very pricey. He spent the majority of his day roaming the art district of Copen. Esra felt determined to finish out his holiday with another loop of the city. It was very lovely, but he grew accustomed to Morgana's muggy and unbreathable conditions. And what a shame it was- Copen was is my hometown. But now he could not remember anything about his friends or family. He wasn't sure if they remembered him. Still, he savored the sights. Esra liked the chiseled mythical beasts that danced across the town's square. The fountain that sprouted from the evergreen grass bellowed its crystal water into the grated streets. The water would melt further into the sewer system, then dance again across the sprinklers that would activate every so often. It looked more like a show, and less of a regularly scheduled irrigation trick. Tiny droplets would make their way into the beast's mouths, and they would hang off the mandibles of the stone like frothed saliva. They looked alive every day; throughout the night, Esra would watch them from his hostel window to make sure they wouldn't patrol the streets. Beyond the town's square, the Copen Castles overlooked the town. Its great cobblestone towers protected the patrons from any weatherly disaster. They made for good cover whenever Copen happened to throw themselves into war, too. But the moss that entwined deep within the crevices of the cobblestone was the real allure. Even from a distance, the moss and vines hugged the castle. It looked like a painting, where the pricks of the vines slouched against the bouncy petals of gardenias. Sometimes, they would shift. It was a phenomenon that  only Copen harbored. The tourist guides would say that magic lived within the castle walls. The great Deity of Riches favored Copen, they'd say, and that's why the vines moved. Esra didn't know if that were true. He didn't know much about Xurio's history with the Deities, as the handmaidens in his makeshift school only told him of the foundation he needed to know to be a good pawn. It shamed him, a little, because he wanted to feel pride when he watched the tourists gape and contemplate the mystery of the Copen Castles. He finished his cigarette and tossed it into the nearest bin. Esra dusted his hands, pulled on his assigned gloves and started for his hostel. Now was no time for tears, he reminded himself once he entered his room. The payout han he separated from his savings into his expenses made him a very agreeable man in Copen. The hostel was quite nice, fancied with fluffy pillows and bed silks that made him feel like an angel. Even the food and coffee tasted expensive. Esra fell into his bed, his arms outstretched and eyes trained on the angled ceiling. It was autumn now, and soon, Xurio would drop to freezing temperatures. He wagered that tomorrow some snow would come in and coat the beasts and drown out the fountain. In Morgana, where the Fortuna stayed, Neryee would ask some of her girls to ward off the area and warm the roof so no snow would stick around her building. He wished he possessed magic like she, but lämsaaj, or Firewelders were almost as rare as Blood mages. They lived in embers, while Blood mages lived as ghosts. The warmth of his fireplace brought him comfort. His eyes started to feel heavy, but his skin, clad in the thickest wool with three layers, started to tingle. The gooseflesh occurred only when magic touched the air around him. Esra sat up, his hand to the revolver around his waist, and he searched his surroundings with a blank face. "Come out," he beckoned and stood from his bed, "I know you're here." A clatter came from under his bed. Esra froze, took a cautionary step back and clicked the safety of his revolver. How long did the intruder stay hidden? Why wasn't he able to sense their magic- their mana, the very lifeblood that swelled within their body? The thought made him shudder. If his rumination about Blood mages or lämsaaj were correct, they could very well soothe their mana into a quiet line to bypass a Xuro's skill. Once, they called Esra the Tarka, the Observer in Xurohan. But he didn't feel so strong in his legends now. "Come out." "Geeze, will you give me a minute?"

Sabine

It started when she double-crossed the Fortuna. Sabine wanted to say it was an honest mistake, but she lied to Neryee intentionally. She lied to her sisters, and at one point, she lied to herself. She did it because she wanted to hurt the lämsaaj. She didn't like to see Neryee with so much power. It made her like a zombie. Sabine desperately wished for someone to feel the same as she did. But it was impossible; because either they feared they'd be burned alive, or her disapproval would spread like a plague and infest other gangs, too. No one wanted to be without a home. No one wanted to be without a family. And for once in her life, Sabine felt truly stupid. All she wanted was for Neryee to feel something- feel a glimpse of anger or even disappointment when Sabine sold her loyalty to the Pearled Oysters. Instead, her punishment consisted of a cold laugh and a dismissive wave. Their interaction in her office lasted seconds. Sabine was found deep within the Pearled Oyster's dens, her red hair a sore thumb in a crowd filled with lost souls and depressed monsters. When the Fortuna girls found her and strung her into the Song Manor, a private estate used only by Neryee's inner circle, Sabine swelled with shame. Her head hung so low when she entered the office, she swore it could've fallen off her shoulders. "You've come home," Neryee said to her and drummed her fingers nonchalantly against her face. "I don't want to know why you blabbered my stocks to the stupid men at the Pearled Oyster. I want you clean, dressed and fed before you're off on your next mission." A sigh left the lämsaaj's lips when she finally shooed them away. It had been the first time Neryee lied to her, too. There were no missions to be dressed for, and Sabine felt like a ghost in her own home. When she wandered the moonlit corridors, back to her own room, she listened for the voices of her sisters. No one came. Not even the candle that greeted Sabine when she'd return home from missions lit when she crept through her door. Her exciting life, full of privilege and danger, halted. It stayed like that for months. Her admiration for Neryee started to go sour; every chance she wanted to tell Neryee- explain to Neryee- apologize to Neryee- it always came short. And Sabine hated it. Only when Sonja Linch, a prospect and a dear friend of the Songs, visited did Neryee step out of her office. The girls of the Fortuna were no fools; they could see the long stares they cast to one another. Their lingering embraces, and the soft smiles Sonja would pass to Neryee, only for the lämsaaj to blanche and look away. It filled Sabine with shame when she watched their exchanges. Not only did Neryee prefer the company of an outsider, but she looked to be wholly invested in the news Sonja brought to her only a fortnight ago. And as if the good graces of the Deities heard her confusion, pain and desperation, Neryee came to her room late last week. She stood by the threshold, her arms crossed over one another and her red-stained lips pressed into a tight line. "Sabine," she said and tossed an envelope in her direction. "You're to protect Esra on this mission. Do not interfere with his tracking." She should've felt elated that Neryee even breathed the same air as her. But as she lay so still, still like a corpse, under Esra's bed the following night, she wanted to hit him. He'd been out all day, and he didn't notice- not once- they took the same fare to Copen. Idiot, Sabine thought to herself when she heard his footsteps through the hall. To Sabine, Esra was nothing but a lowly grunt. He was a man, and the Fortuna did not particularly take men. Not when there were plenty of women in the world to carry on their tasks. Despite this, Neryee quite enjoyed Esra; he would often find himself on the most dangerous missions as her glorified tracker, and he would be rewarded with a firm clap on the back from Neryee. To Sabine, she saw Esra as competition. It was almost hilarious when he clamored his revolver once he felt her presence. When she scampered out from his bed, she flicked her nose and lay her hands on top of her hips. "It took you long enough. I thought they called you the Tarka. So much for that, huh? What else are Xuros good for, if not sensing magic?" Sabine brushed off any debris from her wool coat. Esra looked at her with a straight face, his eyes unreadable. He lowered his revolver, removed his boots and kicked them in her direction. She grunted, stomped them away and pointed at him. "What's your issue, Esra? Can't you see I'm here on good terms?" "You're a traitor, Sabine. I know Neryee set you up to this, but you shouldn't have hidden yourself." Esra replied and tossed his tapered vest onto a lone chair. He turned away from her, his dark hair now glistening from the low light of the fireplace. "Now leave me alone, please. I'll draft something up to Neryee in the morning and see to your arrival back home. I want to be alone now." The hairs on her neck bristled. "I'm not a traitor. I did what I had to do!" "And what would that be? How many times have you sold us out to your friends at the Peony Publishing House? How many more times will you jeopardize our sisters' lives?" "They are not your sisters. You don't even belong at the Fortuna."   Esra managed a scoff, but his tense shoulders revealed her words hit a tender spot. "Go away, Sabine. I want to be alone." She slammed her fist into the wall, shoved over the chair that stationed his vest and started for the door. "Goodnight, you horrible man." When Sabine met the hostel hallway, quiet and misted with sleep, she could feel hot tears bubble at the corners of her eyes. She didn't know why her exchange with Esra caused her to be so angry. He was moronic, and she couldn't understand why he reached everyones' good graces. Why couldn't she liked be like him?

[beesandwasps]

Wow, you mean that blowing up a trade agreement with the entire surrounding region, the ones who it’s easiest to ship to and from and whose residents have the least travel time, makes it harder to trade? Goodness, what a surprise. It’s almost like the EU exists because it made things easier, rather than as some sort of bizarre coincidence.

(Then again, if we’re being honest — a thing which seldom if ever applies to the pro-Brexit crowd — the real reason most Brexit supporters voted for it was xenophobia. All the rest of the justifications were just window dressing. And, as with Republicans in the US, they’re perfectly willing to live in a smaller, less-comfortable, more expensive world as long as it means they can cause suffering in the groups they hate.)

Languages: Deutsch

EU and UK businesses will face ‘inevitable’ extra costs while the post-Brexit trade deal remains in place, European Commission Vice-President Maroš Šefčovič warned on Monday (12 June), playing down the prospect of a major overhaul of the agreement. “Trade can no longer be as frictionless and dynamic as it was before. This inevitably means additional costs for businesses on both sides,” said Šefčovič at the EU-UK Forum, an annual virtual conference focused on the 2021 EU-UK Trade and Cooperation Agreement and the Windsor Framework. “Over time, increased divergence may bring even more costs, and it will further deepen the barriers to trade between [the] EU and the UK,” he told the EU-UK Forum annual conference. The Trade and Cooperation Agreement, which came into force when the UK exited the EU’s single market in December 2020, provides for cross-Channel tariff and quota-free trade. The UK government of Prime Minister Rishi Sunak appears to have moved away from diverging from EU standards across a swathe of economic sectors and has dramatically scaled down its plans to repeal EU laws on the UK statute book this year. Speaking at the same event, UK Foreign Secretary James Cleverly pointed to migration, security, energy and climate change as policy areas where the EU and UK could work closer together. 

continue reading

This is not what the Brits want to hear. UK goods and services exports in the last decade (2012 - 2021) only rose by 6% compared to 29.1% for the EU (I assume UK exports drop precipitously after 2016). Starmer is up for negotiating changes to the deal when the review comes up in 2024 and, as the article points out, Sunak is not dumping a whole lot of EU regulation as Bojo's brexiteers wanted.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Do you think the reason why El wants Mike to tell her he loves her so bad is because she actually needs someone to say it to her? And that she might realize this? That it’s not Mike’s love specifically she wants, she just feels the need to be loved and to be told so without misunderstanding. I feel like that might be something that could help her move on from Mike (which I sincerely hope, ships aside). Also, the last conversation between Mike and Will, when Will says “especially if they don’t like the truth” sounds as if it could apply to both Mike and Will, not only to Will. Do you think that’s what we’re supposed to get from it?

El spent a year in a cabin watching soap operas while spying on Mike from time to time.

In that time, she built up an idea of Mike that she fell in love with because of the soap operas. This became the thought she held onto that kept her feeling like everything would be ok. He was her secure base. This is also why she clung to him again after Hopper "died."

She needs him to love her, otherwise she feels like she has nothing. Her life has been terrible, Byers family aside, ever since she lost Hopper and moved from Hawkins. She has no friends, she's bullied, she had to leave behind the Party, and the closest thing she ever had to a father died.

I've been saying for years that the difference between Mike/El and Mike/Will is that the former is "I love you because I need you" while the latter is "I need you because I love you." El thinks she loves Mike because she's dependent on him. Look how she reacts when the bullies get on her at the roller rink. She's so afraid of what Mike would think that she pleads with Angela to tell him it was a joke and they're really friends. She hasn't been telling Mike the truth, either.

I do think that El sticking with Mike would be horrible for both of them. I just don't know how they'll advance El's development in that regard in the span of two episodes, even if they are long episodes. She hasn't really had any development involving relationships since she left, aside from Brenner telling her that the whole superhero and monster dichotomy is fairy tale stuff not applicable to actual people.

Maybe she notices Mike and Will and sees what it's really supposed to look like, but she also has a history of being very possessive of Mike. She tripped up Max just because he was mildly amused by her skateboarding. Her growing out of that would be a good thing, but, in my opinion, they haven't done anything to allow for that, yet.

I suppose we can get more development on this in volume 2. The California storyline suffered for screentime while El was at the base, but, once they're reunited, we should get to see more of them. I imagine we'll get a Mike/El conversation where, hopefully, they're both finally honest with each other. If this results in them making up and telling each other they love them, then I'll lose all respect for these writers.

[abschaumno1]

On fandom, shipping and boundaries

Since I have seen a lot of talk about boundaries and shipping over the last couple days, and because that has led to me doing a lot of thinking on it/ I just wanted to share my few cents on the topic.

For those who haven’t seen me talk about this before I should probably mention that I’ve been in fandom for over ten years and in RPF spaces for six years now. So that’s the background that informs my opinions.

So let’s get into this.

Most of the arguments I see center around the opinion that we as fans need consent from content creators to essentially do anything in fandom. Which is right where it starts for me to be honest.

Fandom is and has always been a subculture where fans of a thing meet and exchange their ideas and create art and fic and all sorts of other transformative works for each other. Emphasis on “for each other”.

As a fan I am in fandom spaces to talk to other people who like the same things I do, and I am in fandom spaces to share with other fans what I create based on the things we like (fanfic in my personal case).

Over the past ten years I have watched the increasing shift towards where fandom is more out in the open, and where fans apparently feel like they can and should approach creators with the things they used to share in fandom circles. Obviously some creators have made it clear that they don’t have a problem with that, have actively encouraged it, or admitted to seeking it out to some extend. I think the most famous example for this is probably Bryan Fuller and his enthusiasm about Hannibal fandom in general and Hannigram fanworks in particular, or Mads Mikkelsen, who to my knowledge has publicly admitted to reading (and liking) explicit Hannigram fic. They made that decision for themselves and I think that’s great for them.

Now here’s also the heart of the issue for me. Because I am a very strong believer in the fourth wall, meaning that there is fandom and then there is the spaces where we get to interact with the creators (cons, more recently social media accounts), and yes, sometimes those things intersect, but that does not mean the fourth wall is and should be disregarded.

Shipping especially (since that’s the reason I am writing this post) is a subset of fandom. Not everyone in fandom ships; not everyone in fandom wants to ship. And that’s completely fine. We’re all here to have fun and we all look for different things from what we do in fandom. But at no point does that entitle any of us to demand others to cater to what we personally want from fandom. And at no point does any of this mean we should feel like we have to ask for permission to do the things we do.

Fandom is not just transformative, it is transgressive. Modern fandom, especially modern slash fandom got popularised by women writing queer content about Star Trek in the 1970s (the first published slash story was published in a zine in 1974). And yes, there are cases where I would argue for being publicly transgressive, but I do not think that this should apply to fandom, and being transgressive means that I can and will do things without regard to what any creator wants me to do.

And this is where we go back to the fourth wall and the question of boundaries. I have seen a trend in Hermitcraft fandom specifically where people approach content creators to ask them what their boundaries are and compile lists of who is fine with what. And that in itself crosses a boundary for me.

See one of the most important things I learned in fandom in general, and in Hockey RPF specifically is that the fourth wall is one of the most important boundaries we have in fandom. Shipping is for us. Not for the creators or the professionals involved. And I will be honest with you, none of the shippers I know in Hermitcraft fandom actively share their shippy stuff with creators. In fact, a lot of them feel uncomfortable at the mere suggestion that any of the Hermits could read or see their shipping content.

Asking the Hermits (and other content creators) what they think about shipping and whether they are okay with it is crossing that boundary, and in my personal opinion it shows a disregard for the content creators these “fans” presumably care about. If you actually want to respect them, just keep that stuff away from them. They are adults, if they happen to find it they can decide to ignore it. And if they decide not to ignore it then that is their own decision. A decision they can make for themselves, because once again, they are adults.

But people will use even ambiguous statements or non-statements and twist them to mean what they think they should mean and then go and harass people who kept this content to their own circles and sharing it with others who want to see it and try to tell them what they can and cannot do. They will tell you “I don’t speak for them” and then tell you that the only way to read a statement is their way. The moment you take an ambiguous statement or a statement that has never been made and say "this means that" without letting the person in question clarify, you are attempting to speak for them. And no, this does not mean I want people to ask the Hermits for clarification. I want people to not bring this up with the Hermits at all

And I have seen the concept of consent being brought up in this context and I am just going to say it: The concept of consent does not apply here.

The concept of consent as used by anti-shippers and yes, also shippers insistent on respecting these boundaries, whether they are correctly interpreted or not, is the concept of consent we apply to s*xual encounters. And that concept does not apply here. At all.

Consent as applied to s*xual encounters is a legal tool used to determine whether an encounter was unconsensual and thus breaking the law, or not.

I have seen an analogy being thrown around where creating shipping content without being told by the person you create it about that they are okay with it is the same as walking up to a stranger and holding their hand without asking if they are okay with it.

This analogy is false.

A more fitting analogy would be this: You see a stranger and you would like to hold their hand. You walk up to them to ask if you can, potentially making them feel uncomfortable. This is what people asking Hermits about whether they are okay with shipping are doing.

Or you could quietly draw art of yourself holding the stranger's hands or write about it, and not show it to them, meaning they will never know, which has literally no effect on them whatsoever. This is what shippers are already doing.

We all have fantasies. It's human to have fantasies. There is nothing wrong with that. The moment this becomes an issue is when we ignore the boundaries of the objects of our fantasies and tell them about them unsolicited.

Another thing I want to make abundantly clear here is the following: The Hermits are not your friends.

They may be accessible online and they may even talk to fans online, but they are not our friends. We know as much as they are willing to share publicly. Nothing more and nothing less. What we know about and of them is a public persona. And yes, that persona may or may not include aspects of their real personalities, but at the end of the day they are effectively strangers.

Accessibility online does not mean we are entitled to cross boundaries we would not cross in real life either. And someone talking to you about something unrelated does not make you entitled to ask them frankly invasive questions about things they might not have encountered or put much thought into without you asking those questions.

Furthermore, I would like us all to remember what happened when ZombieCleo came out and told anti-shippers that they should stop harassing shippers. This fandom has a history and considering that history, I am not surprised when Hermits give ambiguous statements or try to avoid saying anything, even ignoring for a moment that it's invasive. If I had witnessed people bully my friend and that same community is now asking me to state my opinion on the same issue I would think twice about how to reply. Especially if I rely on that same community for part of my income.

This is a lot of text already and I could probably find more to say but I'll wrap it up here. If you have any concerns or want to discuss points further my ask box is open. Just don't be an asshole.

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader- 27 (Part 3/Finale)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright you weenies, here’s the last part of 27....

I realized I’ve also made an error, I forgot that they already killed her other boyfriend, so let’s say the ex they killed in the previous chapter was a different ex.

leggo

...

Today was the day and you were excited.

Vengeance, the cherry on top, the final piece of this damned puzzle. You had snapped. You were completely bloodthirsty now and you WISHED someone would try to stop you. You had come a long way. A VERY long way. It was safe to say both Billy and Stu rubbed off on you a tremendous amount and you were absolutely fucking ready!

It didn’t help that you had two killers hyping you up to all hell. From Billy whispering how many hours were left in the day to Stu commenting about how hot he’d think it would be to have sex in a pool of blood.

When it came time to leave, the boys offered to walk you home.

“So who you gonna get first?” Billy held your hand as Stu stood your opposite side with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Definitely the old man.” you declared. “I want to watch the life leave his eyes. He’s the reason behind all this.”

“How so?” Stu asked.

“He’s convinced I’m not really his child, he’s been trying to get me out of that house since I turned 12...” the guys noticed your significant mood change. “Nevermind that.” you shook your head. “My mom can fuck off with the rest of them, her and her can-do-no-wrong, perfect home bullshit.” you seethed. “I’ll explain while everything’s going down.”

...

“I’m home...if anyone gives a shit.” you grumbled the last part. You walked in to see your mother and father along with Hannah’s mother and father. They were all sitting at the table. Hannah’s mom and dad were bawling their yes out while your parents comforted them.

“Y/N...I’m glad your here.” you father spoke up. “We were talking about funeral arrangements.”

“For the daughter you wish you had instead of me? Not interested.” you rolled your eyes. “If you need me, I’ll be doing homework. Parentals, friends. Friends parentals.” you shortly introduced Billy and Stu to your folks. 

“Nice to meet you.” Billy managed to express. Stu put on a fake smile and waved. 

“Keep your door open so we can hear you!”

“Why would I close the door? You guys would just kick it open anyways.” you grunted. 

You had no reason to be cordial with your family anymore, just because they wanted to put on a show for your guests, you’d give them a damn show.

“Y/N don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“Then I’ll talk to Hannah’s family.” you turned to the two mortified adults.

You could see Billy and Stu out of the corner of your eyes, both looking like they were about to burst out laughing.

“Y/N we have nothing against you.” Hannah’s mom wept. “We knew Hannah could be a bit much.”

“Hannah was much? Oh No Mrs. Doyle. Your husband screwing around with your teenage secretary was much.” you crossed your arms. “Your daughter was a fucking nightmare and I’m glad no one has to put up with her shit anymore.”

You wanted to see just how far you could take this before your parents exploded. 

“Y/N L/N!” Your father rose from his seat, ready to storm over.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Stu was first to stand in front of you. “Mr. L/N with all due respect, I’d advise you against that.”

“And just who do you think you are?” 

“The man whose about to be responsible for your funeral if you take another step.” Billy stood next to Stu, the both of them making a human wall, separating you from them. “Geez Y/N you weren’t kidding.”

“You should see our security camera footage.” you scoffed. 

“Well this has been a lovely chat but we really must be going.” Mrs. Doyle stood to her feet. 

“Oh nononono~” Billy sang with conviction. “Sit your asses down...let’s play a little game.” (I know Saw hadn’t been made yet, just go with it.)

...

Watching back the camera footage hurt a lot more than you thought it would. You couldn’t imagine how everyone else was feeling. Both of Hannah’s parents were tied up with blindfolds over their eyes. Stu had knocked out your dad and tied him to the table while Billy handled your mom, duct-taping her hands and wrists to a chair...

“Look at that. An innocent little girl...” Billy shook his head as he listed to your parents berate you to your face. You blocked everything out while you watched. How Hannah and her would smile in your face all the while being your biggest tormentors. How you couldn’t tell your mother or father because they never believed you the first ten times you tried. 

It was all crashing down on you now.

There was an eerie silence as your crying voice filled your own ears. You were used to crying yourself to sleep by that time. All of this happening a little before you met the boys.

“Y/N, whatever you have to tell us, we don’t have to involve them.” your mother sobbed.

“Mommy....you’re crying.” your voice broke as you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in a couple of hours. “But what about when I was crying?....What about when I was in the hospital scared for my life? What about when you guys were threatening to ship me across country....” much like you did with Hannah, you kicked the chair sending your mother falling back.

“And you.” you turned towards your dad. “I know you don’t believe I’m your biological daughter...and guess what...I hope I’m not either.” you growled, staring down at the now cowering man. “You are pathetic...both of you.” you turned back towards the TV screen. A video of you in your bedroom (since your parents didn’t believe in privacy) was playing. You were on the phone with your friend Kyla.

“No, no I know Ky.” you laughed. You had a much different laugh than you do now. “...I don’t know, it’s hard to trust cute faces like theirs.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to what you were saying. Before you could go to turn it off, Stu had taken you in a hug. “Oh no princess, don’t be rude...let the video play!”

“Do I like them?....Maybe...okay totally!” you watched yourself squeal as you threw the pillow you were hugging across the room. “Kyla I wish you were here to see them THEY ARE SO-” you covered your mouth to stop from shouting too loud. “They are so cute and so hot and they wanna be seen with me!...of all people! No I’m not gonna make a move on them.”

“Awww Y/N has a crushy wushy on us!” Stu gushed. “We love you too baby!” Stu abruptly kissed you, right there. You almost forgot Billy was standing there. 

“Woah...” you almost lost balance. 

“Young lady! How dare you-” You father tried to said.

“Oh shut up!” Stu took it upon himself to finish the job. 

(OKAY SHEILD YOUR EYES NOW)

Stu wrapped a hand around your dad’s neck and applied pressure, so much to the point where his face went blue within a mere 5 seconds. Stu laughed maniacally, only seeming to tighten his grip while Billy continued to antagonize your mother, laughing in her face while she watched the horror happen with her husband.

“Y/N...why?” your dad choked as he struggled.

“Why not...and while we’re here.” you shrugged. “I killed Hannah.”

“WHAT?”

You almost forgot Hannah’s parents were in the room, listening to everything go down.

“Oh yeah.” you shrugged. “Bitch had it coming...the better question is what should I do to you two.” you crossed your arms as you thought.

...(Time skip)

“Pretty isn’t it.” You gazed up at the stars. 

“Not as pretty as you.” Billy flirted, using his sleep to wipe your face. As you all sat on the front steps of your porch, ambulances and cop cars lined up the street for many blocked.

“I agree.” Stu wrapped an arm around you waist. “Be honest, how do you feel?”

“I feel free.” you replied, letting out a large sigh. The cops had just finished questioning you. Your story was clear. Your dad lunged at your mom first and Hannah’s parents saw too much...then he accidently tripped and hung himself. Perfect crime. Billy and Stu were walking by when they heard your cries for help and they hopped in.

As to how you three managed to escape unscathed, they got you out of there in time just as he was hanging himself. As for the tapes playing on the T.V...they were watching old videos to find something to ground you for. (Something they usually did anyways.)

“Good.”

“I just don’t know where I’m gonna live now. My aunt lives the next city over and that’s a long drive.”

“Hm...just gonna have to live with us now!” Stu shrugged, we’ll all be like a married couple!

“All...as in-”

“Yes, the three of us.” Billy grabbed your attention. “Lucky you, eh?” He pecked your lips when the officers wasn’t looking just as Stu planted a smooch on the back of your head.

“Young lady.” the officer walked up to you three. “You’re lucky to have escaped them, that psychopath stabbed your mother 27 times...who does that?!”

You paused before you gave your answer. “I guess he was just fed up, officer.” 

Stu tried hard to contain his laughter while Billy coughed into his hand, you all knowingly shared a look.

Yes...fed up indeed.

(So...I guess this slasher stuff might be a regular thing...I kinda like it)

[daetaechanster]

Deku, Bakugo and Kirishima

Okay I wanna preface this post by saying first, this isn’t a post about Bakudeku (you’re itching to call me out, I feel it, but don’t do it) and while I will be mentioning the Kiribaku ship, it will be me mostly mentioning the FANS of this ship and the ideals around that ship. If this doesn’t apply to you, please gloss over it. This post was caused by once again, seeing SOME Kiribaku’s speak absolute garbage all over Tiktok. Wrong garbage mind you. Now let me start..

---------

When was it, that fans suddenly decided that for Kiribaku to be a ship, that suddenly people had to downplay Deku’s importance in Bakugo’s life. Yes, Bakugo use to bully Deku and he was wrong for it, he was a little fucking shithead for it. But that was in chapter one of the manga and season 1 episode 1 of the show. Where are we now? About to hit chapter 305 (leaks today whoo) and we’re about hit season 5. Things of changed, Bakugo has changed, and if you can pick up what Horikoshi is putting down, then you KNOW things have changed in their relationship.

Now what these Tiktoker Kiribaku’s like to claim is that Bakugo doesn’t care about Deku, doesn’t even LIKE Deku. That the only person Bakugo cares about is Kirishima... you can headcanon all you like that Kirishima is Bakugo’s most important person. You can 100% believe that and use it for your fanon content. But that is all it is, headcanon and fanon, because it isn’t true. And BECAUSE it isn’t true and is fanon, Do not come at people who believe CANON FACT and tell them they’re wrong and your headcanon is right.

Why does Bakugo’s relationship with Deku have to be diminished for Kiribaku’s ship to flourish? Why? When did that become a thing? because a LOT of people spread around this garbage like it’s fact.

Now i’m going to get into the major point these Tiktoker Kiribaku’s made, and what I think is the worst take i’ve ever heard. Ahem.

‘Kirishima cared about Bakugo the most which is why he went to Kamino to save him, and Bakugo cared about Kirishima the most which is why he took his hand’

I’m going to get into how WRONG this statement is. 

The person who found out that Bakugo was going to be kidnapped was Deku. Deku found out during his fight with Muscular and after the fight was over, his first thought was to get Kota to safety so he could save Kacchan. He told the pussycat lady to alert everyone to Kacchan’s possible kidnapping, which is where Kirishima heard about it.

As you’d expect, Kirishima got upset and instantly wanted to go out and help protect Bakugo. Why? because he is his FRIEND. Canonly they’re not together so we are going forward with their platonic relationship, which is canon. He wanted to save his friends, as did others in the group, but he wanted to save him most. But he couldn’t. (Something we later learned was a trigger for Kirishima in season 4)

Because Deku was out on the field, he was able to go and try to save Bakugo. That boy ran around, in absolute pain to the point that some of the class commented on the fact he should be unconcious right now. But that didn’t matter because he wanted to save Bakugo. And he tried his hardest, despite being in pain and his arms not working, Bakugo gets taken, telling Deku ‘Not to come’. I like to believe he said that because Deku was injured and WOULD be killed following him, because Bakugo knows Deku would follow him into fire. Like Deku knows Bakugo best, Bakugo also knows Deku best (minus the whole looking down on him stuff, wtf Bakugo.) But because that was never established, we’ll leave that up to interpretation.

Something these Tiktokers used in their arguement was that Kirishima was the one who decided to save Bakugo, nobody else. Which.. just isn’t true at all. Another thing they said was DEKU DIDN’T PLAN TO SAVE HIM. Again, not true.

Lets go back to before Deku was in hospital and Bakugo was kidnapped. When Bakugo was gone, Deku SCREAMED in absolute DISPAIR (these tiktokers also commented that Deku hates Bakugo and all I can do is LOL, won’t even entertain that.) Deku was in such ABSOLUTE DISPAIR that he instantly went into shock. Shock, that he said, lasted for the 2 whole days in hospital, he couldn’t remember a thing. The only moment he remembers WHY he was in shock, was when the whole class were there and Todoroki told him about it.

Also at this point, while Deku is in shock, Kirishima and Todoroki had 2 whole days with a clear head to decide they were going to save Bakugo, consequences be damned.

What happened after remembering Kacchan was taken? Deku came out of his shock and burst into tears. He failed to save Kacchan and it HURT him. And then Kirishima mentions the rescue.. the rescue that he AND TODOROKI PLANNED. Do people not remember that while Kirishima had decided he was going to save Bakugo, that Todoroki ALSO had the same plan?? That if Kirishima hadn’t intended to save him, Todoroki would have mentioned the plan to Deku himself???

I 100% believe, as should ANYONE who knows Deku as a character and as someone who’s always cared about Bakugo despite him being an asshat, would have also come up with a plan to save Bakugo if he hadn’t been in hospital with damaged arms and in complete shock and disassociation.

I now want to point out a panel that people seem to forget:

For people to believe Deku doesn’t care as much as Kirishima does about Bakugo, how is it your boy is saying the complete OPPOSITE statement???

Now skip forward to finding Bakugo and AFO. While Kirishima (and Todoroki) had decided they were going to rescue Bakugo, it was Deku who came up with the plan to get Bakugo out of there. Deku planned the best possible way to get Bakugo out of there and not damage his pride in the meantime. Deku could have been selfish and have reached out for Bakugo, because we all know Deku wanted to have been the one to reach out his hand. But he didn’t because Deku knows Bakugo best and didn’t want to possibly upset him.

Bakugo, who feels incredibly insecure when it comes to Deku, how do you think he’d have reacted if Deku saved him A SECOND TIME? First the sludge villian and now Kamino? I’d wager that Deku would expect any chance of reconsilliation between himself and Bakugo to have died that moment if he’d reached out to save him.

Lets be honest, Bakugo would have taken ANYONES hand to get out of there and i’ll explain why that is true in a moment.

Another thing people seem to forget is that Bakugo didn’t tell Kirishima he was the one who should hold his hand out. Bakugo didn’t tell Kirishima that he would only take his hand. No, DEKU said this. Deku who knows Bakugo better than ANYONE. He knew, because currently his and Bakugo’s relationship was rocky, that he couldn’t risk Bakugo’s pride getting in the way of the rescue. So DEKU chose Kirishima to reach out his hand, because Kirishima isn’t someone Bakugo feels threatened by. Deku is Bakugo’s biggest insecurity, him reaching out was a risk Deku wasn’t going to place over saving Bakugo. 

Again, Bakugo didn’t mention ANY of this, he didn’t even know. So how anyone came to the conclusion that canonly, this meant that Bakugo believed Kirishima to be more important than anyone else I will never know.

And when they did save him, Horikoshi put in a VERY BIG CLUE that a lot of people gloss over.

That teeth grit there was put INTENTIONALLY to show that even with Kirishima’s hand out.. he still didn’t want to take it, he didn’t want to have been saved. This is why I believe that he would have taken ANYONE’S hand. For anime fans, this teeth grit was cut out to instead focus on how close Shigaraki got to grabbing Bakugo. 

Bakugo isn’t stupid, he knew he couldn’t stay. For one, he already mentioned that he was in All Mights way by being there. So he HAD NO CHOICE but to take Kirishima’s hand. And when he was saved, he addressed EVERYONE for saving him, not just Kirishima.

Now, for non manga readers, you will have to wait until season 5 to see Bakugo and Deku’s relationship flourish and I don’t want to spoil you. I’m so excited for people to see what their relationship is going to turn into and why it’s one of the most popular canon relationships in the show (and how it’s grown to be one of the biggest ships)

I will give you this though, to indicate just how much Deku means to Bakugo now without spoiling it for anyone. Anyone whos read the manga should know how Bakugo feels about Deku.

For anyone who feels that Bakugo taking Kirishima’s hand indicated how important they were to each other, i’d like to hope you have the same energy for that cover for Vol.29 of the manga drawn by Horikoshi himself. If Bakugo went back, he would have taken Deku’s hand all along. At the river, in Kamino, during the fight. Bakugo wants to hold Deku’s hand now, he wants Deku’s friendship, he wants Deku, and that is platonically canon.

The last thing I want to say is that Kiribaku as a ship can still exist without ignoring how much Bakugo and Deku mean to each other. Kirishima and Bakugo are friends, maybe even best friends canonly (though honestly i’d argue that Kaminari is closer to Bakugo but that’s my personal opinion.)

Deku’s best friends are Iida and Uraraka, but Bakugo is still the person he loves and cares about the most.

Bakugo’s best friends are Kirishima and Kaminari, but Deku is still the person he loves and cares about the most.

Do you see people push Bakugo down to make IzuOcha work? no.

Wanna headcanon that Kirishima is Bakugo’s most important person? Go right ahead. But don’t push it on others as fact when it’s not.

If you have to come to other peoples spaces and force your headcanon on them and disminish the utterly beautiful relationship thats blossoming between Bakugo and Deku, then maybe you shouldn’t be in the fandom. Horikoshi wants you to know how important these boys are to each other and if you can’t see that, don’t comment publically because you sound dumb.

Ship Kiribaku, but do not attack others for things that you have WRONG.

Tldr; Stop erasing Bakugo and Deku’s canon relationship to big up your Kiribaku ship and don’t force that on other people.

[makeste]

some meta about Izuku, Katsuki, and trust

and choosing to trust is the real bridge that goes to accepting that person as a part of your live again and what the offender has to earn. I think the interesting aspect of Deku and Bakugou's relationship is that Deku has always trusted Bakugou, and I would say more than he had forgiven him at the start of the story (where he does show more frustration and resentment towards Bakugou's behaviour and see him as a jerk) but despite that he can always trust Bakugou to him himself, attested to

the fact that Deku feels very confident about how Bakugou will act or what Bakugou's true motives are and probably the reason why he always sees Bakugou as a hero despite his hurtful behaviour is because Deku 100% trusts Bakugou even if he's doing something disagreeable or that will hurt him. Knowing someone and trusting is not exactly the same and I see it as trust because of Deku willingness to be co-operative. On Bakugou's side he is mistrustful of Deku and thats where the communication

breaks down and there has been plenty of meta exploring why Bakugou has deep rooted problems around Deku and his journey is him taking accountability of that and changing to be a better person. While understanding and miscommunication get their fair due I think trust and mistrust are the true bedrocks of the bkdk river bed because that allows for how they can still be so connected despite the miscommunication (with Bakugou mistrust is mixed with some trust) because of knowing.

anon I really enjoyed this, thank you for sharing your thoughts! I concur with just about all of this, and this ask got me thinking a lot about the nature of trust, and how it applies to Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship.

I think a lot of people’s reactions to reading the sentence “Bakugou and Deku have always trusted each other” would pretty much be, “???” and “lol what.” like, yeah, sure. they trusted each other so much that Bakugou decided that throwing a tantrum for ten years would be an appropriate reaction to Deku trying to hold his hand. classic Trust, right there!!

lol but I honestly think this is true, though. it’s just that there are different... levels?? types?? of trust. let’s go with types. there are different types of trust, and what makes Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship so interesting to me is that it’s kind of the opposite of what these fictional rival-type relationships usually are. it’s basically the difference between knowing, and understanding.

okay so first of all let’s back up here to make sure we’re all on the same page. we’re defining trust as “firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone”, which is the Oxford Language definition and which works pretty well for me. you’ll note, btw, that the current relationship between Katsuki and Izuku more or less meets all four of these criteria.

reliability - both boys regard each other as dependable and are willing to rely on each other in a pinch (although Izuku is currently having some difficulty with that, but that’s another topic for another day).

truth - both are honest with each other, though not completely honest (this is the aspect that Katsuki still needs to work on, as he’s currently hiding his desire to atone).

ability - neither of them have any difficulty with this. Izuku admires Katsuki’s ability so much that he’s made it his own gold standard since childhood, and Katsuki respects Izuku’s ability enough that he made him his main rival, and never doubted that Izuku was qualified to receive OFA and become All Might’s heir.

strength - as with ability, this is another aspect of trust that neither of them has ever struggled with. in fact, a lot of their relationship struggles happened specifically because Katsuki never doubted Izuku’s strength, but feared it because he didn’t understand it.

so yeah. there’s a lot more trust between them than most people realize, I think. but the thing is that the type of trust they have is based more on knowing than understanding, and that’s where so much of their conflict stems from.

when I say knowing, I’m talking about the kind of awareness that comes from familiarity and experience. this is the type of trust that’s difficult to take shortcuts with, because it mostly just has to be accumulated over time. this is all about learning what someone is like through observing them and being around them. and it’s just as much about being known as well, because at the same time that you’re learning who the other person is, they’re learning about who you are. and that’s where trust starts to work its way in. it’s the slow unveiling of who you are, and laying it on the table piece by piece over time. and every time another little piece of you is revealed and accepted, and every time you accept one more piece of who the other person is in turn, that trust increases a little bit more. this type of trust takes a long, long time to build up, but in exchange the foundation it creates is pretty much rock-solid and nigh-indestructible.

understanding, on the other hand, to me is more instinctual. it’s about empathy and insight. and the interesting thing is that it’s possible to know someone for years upon years, and yet never truly understand them. and on the flip side, it’s also possible to understand someone within minutes of meeting them, even if you know almost nothing about them. if “knowing” is about learning who someone is, I would say that “understanding” is about learning why they are who they are. this type of trust isn’t necessarily always mutual, but it does necessitate forming a connection with someone. because empathy is such a critical component of it, it’s basically impossible to understand someone and not form an emotional connection to them in some way. this type of trust can be far more powerful and intense than the “knowing” type of trust, but the flip side is that it can sometimes be less stable and easier to break.

I think that the majority of fictional relationships, especially the ones that become really popular ships, are based more around the latter type of trust because of its intensity and unpredictability and potential for story development. the thing is, both of these types of trust are necessary for a good ship (and when I say “ship”, I’m talking about both romantic and platonic relationships just fyi). if neither type of trust is present on at least some level, then there’s really no foundation to start building up the relationship. so most of the time a ship will start out with one or the other, and then over the course of the story they'll work on building up whichever one was lacking.

and because of how stories work, the majority of the time we’re going to be dealing with characters who at first don’t know each other all that well. and so the relationships we get are ones where the characters first form some kind of emotional connection that builds understanding, and then over time they start to learn more about each other and build up that kind of trust as well. I feel like 90% of ships have this kind of dynamic. it’s the basis for things like enemies-to-lovers, fake dating AUs, and basically any kind of trope in which the characters get stuck somewhere and are forced to spend a lot of time together. it’s good, and it works.

but the fascinating thing about the relationship between Izuku and Katsuki, though, is that it’s actually the exact opposite of this. the premise of Izuku and Katsuki's story is that these are two people who’ve known each other their entire lives, but have almost no understanding of each other whatsoever. they know almost every little detail about each other, so much that they hardly even think about it. but all of their conflict is based on the fact that understanding between them is basically nonexistent.

and to me this is such an intriguing dynamic. the two of them know each other like the back of their hand. they’re familiar with the smallest habits. they can predict each other’s actions. they know how the other person thinks. and they have the kind of trust that comes with having seen the other at both their best and their worst. Katsuki is capable of letting his guard down around Izuku in a way he doesn’t do around anyone else. he cries in front of him on multiple occasions. he lets Izuku call him “Kacchan” long after their other childhood friends have stopped doing so. and even though he fears and resents Izuku’s strength early on, he also subconsciously acknowledges it in ways that even he doesn’t realize (e.g. “don’t you dare get into U.A.,” rather than “you can’t get in” or “you won’t get in”). he knows Izuku.

but he doesn’t understand Izuku. he knows who he is, but he doesn’t understand why. he knows that Izuku is strong, but he can't wrap his head around the nature of that strength. and because he lacks that understanding, this vital aspect of the trust between them is lacking, and is all too easily broken when Katsuki falls into the creek and Izuku tries to offer his help. Katsuki knows that Izuku is a good person, but he doesn’t understand that goodness, that selflessness, and so he’s mistrustful of it.

on the flip side of the coin, however, Izuku has the utmost faith in Katsuki. to him, Katsuki is the strongest, smartest, most capable and most amazing person in the world (aside from All Might). and Izuku, unlike Katsuki, actually does understand his childhood friend at least a little bit. he understands Katsuki’s reasons for wanting to be a hero. he understands that Katsuki is not just mindlessly pursuing strength. he understands that Katsuki’s motivation is about overcoming obstacles and beating challenges. and most importantly, he understands that Katsuki, in spite of everything he’s said and done to Izuku over the years, is fundamentally a good person.

and this is crucial. because, along with the bond of familiarity they’ve built up together over the years, it’s this other, one-sided bond of understanding that is responsible for their relationship enduring for as long as it did despite everything. as you put it, anon, Izuku’s trust is ultimately what becomes the bridge between them. on some level, he trusts in Katsuki’s innate goodness. he believes in it in spite of all of Katsuki’s attempts to persuade him otherwise. e.g. when Katsuki suggests that he go jump off the roof, Izuku is hurt by the words, but he never once takes them to heart, because he knows on some instinctive level that Katsuki doesn’t mean them. and so he grumbles to himself about Katsuki needing to think before he speaks, but aside from that he never gives the words another thought.

Katsuki would no doubt consider this yet another example of Izuku not caring enough about himself or taking himself into account. but it really is more than that. the reason the words don’t cut deep in spite of them being vicious and well-targeted is simply because Izuku knows that Katsuki isn't truly that cruel. and he knows that on a level so deep that Katsuki is never able to break it despite his best efforts. he can’t break it, because there’s nothing to break, because it’s true. the reason the relationship endures in spite of everything is because deep down Katsuki is fundamentally a good person, and so Izuku’s trust, in the end, is based on truth. and so it never fully breaks, and eventually, it becomes reciprocated.

and that’s what their story is all about. it’s two people that have known each other their entire lives, but have to work in order to build their understanding of each other. unlike many ships, they start off already having that foundation of knowing and being known, and so their story instead is about forging that connection of empathy and insight. and it doesn’t come easily to them at all. but they keep at it.

anyway, so thank you again for sharing your thoughts on this, anon. I didn’t even get into the topic of forgiveness, but I agree with you about it being a process of letting go of negative feelings and resentment. I also agree that forgiveness is a separate thing from trust, but I do think trust plays a big part in one’s decision to forgive or not forgive. it's a lot easier to forgive if you have an understanding of the other person’s actions. and it’s also far, far easier to forgive if the offender’s actions are long in the past. and because the latter is now true in Katsuki’s case, that shows a pattern of him learning from his mistakes and not repeating them. which further builds trust, especially in the “reliability” department. and so even though forgiveness and trust are two separate things, they’re still connected. and in many ways, by working to rebuild the understanding between him and Izuku, Katsuki is also working towards earning Izuku’s forgiveness, even though that’s ultimately something that can never truly be earned, but can only be granted.

I’m not sure if I’m really making my point very clear here lol, but basically what I’m trying to say is that while the relationship may have once been one-sided in this aspect, it’s not anymore. it’s mutual, and they’re both putting the work in. and Katsuki is also doing his part without any guarantee or expectation of forgiveness on Izuku’s end. it’s unconditional. he’s doing it because he wants to atone. and he’ll continue to do it whether he’s forgiven or not. and that’s important. it’s important because it shows that the relationship has value to both of them. and it’s important because neither of them wants to lose it. they want to fix it; they want to make it stronger.

and ultimately what that means is that the relationship will continue to endure, despite their ups and downs. because even though it may have started out as something incidental -- two boys who just happened to become friends because they spent a lot of time together as children -- it’s not, anymore. it’s no longer just something that happened, something that just accidentally came together. it’s something that they’re both working to build. they want to trust each other. they want to understand one another. their relationship is no longer something that simply withstood and persisted -- it’s something that is now being nurtured. and you love to see it.

so let's see, how do I even begin to tl;dr this post lol. something something blah blah blah trust, understanding, childhood friends, knowing someone, having faith in someone, being the recipient of that faith, and working to become worthy of it. they're very confused, but they care about each other a lot, and they are good boys.