#this is not a critique this is me going 'I like this

[gay-caption-stories-2]

The Bet

Matt hissed through clenched teeth as he lowered himself onto Ryan’s cock, his thighs trembling from the effort. The stretch was sharp, his body struggling to take the thick length, but he refused to break eye contact with Ryan. It wasn’t supposed to go this far.

It had started at the bachelor party. Ryan, Chris’s best man and smug ex-boyfriend, had leaned in with that infuriating grin. “Chris used to pull everyone at the bar,” he’d said casually, his voice sharp enough to sting. “Bet he’s toned things down with you.”

Matt frowned, irritation already prickling at the edges of his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ryan shrugged, his smirk deepening. “Just that he’s got… specific tastes. Used to take a lot to keep him satisfied.” He gave Matt a once-over, his gaze lingering. “You keeping up with that?”

Matt bristled, his pride flaring. “I’m more than enough,” he snapped.

Ryan just chuckled, low and dismissive. “Sure you are.”

And that was all it took. Matt’s next words came out before he could stop himself. “Fine. Let me show you.”

Now, here he was, knees on the couch in a private hotel room, riding Ryan’s cock while the wedding rehearsal carried on upstairs.

“Not bad,” Ryan drawled, reclining with his arms behind his head. His dark eyes glinted as he smirked. “But are you sure you can take it all? Guess it’s as lackluster as that blowjob earlier—you couldn’t even get halfway before gagging.”

Matt’s face burned, his fingers curling against Ryan’s chest. “Shut up,” he spat, his voice tight with frustration.

“What? It’s a valid critique,” Ryan teased, his grin widening.

Matt scowled and slammed his hips down hard, forcing Ryan’s cock deeper. A sharp gasp escaped him as he bottomed out, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure through his core.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling into a sharper smirk. “Thought so,” he said smoothly.

Matt growled low in his throat, doubling down as he began to move, his thighs burning with effort. The heat and friction between them only fueled his determination.

“You’re not getting the last word,” Matt panted, his breath catching as his rhythm grew sharper.

Ryan’s smirk wavered for just a moment, his head tilting back as a low groan escaped him. Matt caught the slip and leaned in, grinding down harder, the flash of vulnerability spurring him on. The air between them grew thick, their banter dissolving into grunts and sharp breaths. Ryan’s hands clamped down on Matt’s hips, guiding their movements together, while Matt braced himself on Ryan’s chest, both of them fully caught in the rhythm.

The door slammed open.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Chris’s voice sliced through the air, freezing Matt in place. His head whipped around, stomach sinking as he met Chris’s wide, furious eyes.

“Chris—wait—I can explain—” Matt stammered, scrambling to climb off Ryan.

Chris’s face twisted in disgust, his hand already yanking off the ring. “We’re done,” he said coldly, tossing it to the floor before storming out. The door slammed shut, leaving silence in his wake.

Matt tried to move, but Ryan’s hands tightened on his hips, holding him firmly in place.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere,” Ryan growled, flipping Matt onto his back in one swift motion. The shift drove Ryan even deeper, pulling a choked moan from Matt’s lips as his body arched instinctively.

Ryan didn’t hesitate, his thrusts brutal and unrelenting. “You don’t get to tap out now,” he growled, his voice thick with exertion. “We haven’t decided the winner yet.”

Matt’s breath hitched, his hands clawing at Ryan's back as Ryan pounded into him, the angle forcing him to take every inch. His cock twitched violently against his stomach, leaking onto his skin as heat coiled tighter in his core.

“Fuck—Ryan—” Matt gasped, his voice breaking as his body trembled.

“Don’t hold back now,” Ryan snapped, his thrusts growing sharper.

Matt cried out, his back arching as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. His cock jerked hard, spilling thick ropes of cum across his stomach without a single touch. His cries broke into gasps as his body clenched tightly around Ryan’s cock.

The sudden tightness dragged a guttural groan from Ryan. “Shit—Matt—” he growled, slamming in deep as his cock jerked violently, spilling hot and thick inside him.

Ryan pulled out with a hiss, watching as cum leaked from Matt’s stretched hole. He leaned back, catching his breath as a smirk spread across his face.

“Impressive,” Ryan admitted, his voice rough but teasing. “Didn’t think you had that kind of skill.”

Matt glared weakly at him, still sprawled out and trembling. “Told you I wasn’t losing,” he muttered.

Ryan laughed softly as he grabbed his pants from the floor. “Guess we’ll call it a draw,” he said, tossing a cocky grin over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

Matt groaned, letting his head fall back against the couch. He was sore, exhausted, and thoroughly wrecked—but damn if it didn’t feel like a win.

Erick hall × milo miles

for more follow @xxxstudssss

@xstudzz

[p0orbaby]

can you do a little blurb for leah taking care of reader, they went to skii and reader broke her leg it happened to me but luckily i just sprained it😭

-

The house is too quiet, save for the hum of the kettle in the kitchen and the faint creak of Leah padding back and forth across the wooden floors. She’s muttering under her breath, something about how tea cures everything. You’re not convinced. You’re sprawled on the couch like a tragic heroine in a Victorian novel, one leg elevated and encased in an obscene amount of plaster.

You hadn’t even wanted to go skiing. Leah had insisted. “It’ll be fun,” she’d said. “You’ll love it.” And like an idiot, you believed her.

Now, you’re convinced the only thing skiing is good for is humiliation and orthopaedic bills.

“I brought you tea,” Leah announces, placing a mug on the table in front of you with all the delicacy of a bomb disposal expert. She doesn’t sit immediately. Instead, she hovers, hands on hips, like she’s waiting for a thank you that isn’t coming.

You glance at the tea. “I can’t reach it”

Leah sighs dramatically, though you notice the corner of her mouth twitch. “Do you want me to get you a straw?”

“Maybe”

She rolls her eyes but picks up the mug and holds it to your lips like you’re a baby bird. It’s both endearing and mildly infuriating. “You’re so helpless,” she says, but there’s no malice in it.

“I wouldn’t be if someone hadn’t convinced me to strap two planks to my feet and hurl myself down a mountain”

Leah snorts, setting the mug down again. “You were barely off the beginner slope”

“It was steep”

“It was a mild incline,” she counters, but there’s warmth in her voice now, a teasing lilt that makes you want to argue just for the sake of it.

You glare at her, though it’s half-hearted. “You’re enjoying this”

“Not the part where you got hurt,” she says quickly, sitting on the edge of the couch and brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But maybe the part where you have to rely on me for everything”

“Don’t get used to it”

“Oh, I’m treasuring every moment,” she says, her grin infuriatingly smug.

You groan and let your head fall back against the cushions. “I hate this. I can’t do anything. I can’t even wee without help”

“That’s not true,” Leah says brightly. “You managed just fine this morning”

“Only because you held the crutches steady”

“Which I did brilliantly, by the way,” she adds, leaning back and crossing her arms like she’s expecting applause.

You roll your eyes. “Saint Leah of the Crutches. Patron saint of poor, unfortunate souls”

“Exactly.” She reaches for the remote and switches on the TV, flipping aimlessly through channels before settling on a repeat of Bake Off. “You know,” she says, nudging your uninjured foot, “this isn’t so bad. It’s like a little staycation. Except instead of a spa, we’ve got NHS-issued painkillers and bad daytime telly”

You don’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to stare mournfully at the leg that’s become both a burden and a punchline.

Leah glances at you, her teasing dimming slightly. “Hey,” she says softly. “You’ll be back to normal soon. And then you can tell everyone how brave you were”

“Brave,” you repeat flatly. “I cried when the paramedic cut my ski trousers”

“They were really nice trousers,” she agrees.

“Expensive, too”

“Don’t worry,” Leah says, and there’s that twinkle in her eye again. “I’ll buy you new ones. And maybe some knee pads. Or a bubble wrap suit”

You huff a laugh despite yourself. “You’re annoying”

“But alas, you still love me,” she says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

You can’t argue with that, so you don’t. Instead, you let her settle beside you, her arm slung around your shoulders, and together you watch Paul Hollywood critique someone’s soggy bottom.

[thatdisasterauthor]

I am not sure where my fascination with disasters came from, but I have had it for a long, long time. So much so that I very specifically remember being in Middle School and writing a short story about a tornado hitting our school and trapping all the students in the gym (but none of the teachers, of course, because what fun would it be if the teachers were around?). My poor teacher didn't quite know what to do with me when she tried to pair everyone up by genre to critique one another's stories, as no one else had written something remotely similar. It didn't matter though, I was hooked. That afternoon I was standing in my garage and thinking about how I wanted to grow up to be an author who wrote disaster stories, and I wanted to write one story about each kind of disaster.

After several years (and two agents) trying to get these books picked up traditionally with no luck, I've decided to just do it myself. And so, the Little Disaster Books collection has been born! When you pick up a Little Disaster Book, here's what you're going to get:

A short read. Each book is around 50,000-70,000 words. That's a bit longer than a novella, and shorter than most novels, because sometimes you just need a quick book, not a door-stopper.

Each book is a standalone. Because, again, sometimes you just need something quick that you don't have to invest in for a decade while you wait for each book to come out.

Lots of queer characters of all sorts. The disaster genre is, unfortunately, pretty notorious for either not having queer characters at all, or killing them off. Little Disaster Books will instead center them and their narratives. But, the stories won't be ABOUT queerness, they'll just have characters that are queer.

No quickie romance. There will be characters in relationships (I'm a sucker for books with couples that are already together at the start), and maybe the first blooms of a potential romance, but nobody is falling head over heels when they should be focused on survival.

No gore for gore's sake. Characters might get hurt, or even die, but these aren't horror books or slasher books or anything in that vein.

A realistic look at disaster. I'm not just obsessed with fictional disasters, I'm obsessed with the real ones too. I have spent a lot of time studying disasters, myths around disasters/disaster response, and the sociology of disasters. With Little Disaster Books I have worked very, very hard to make the books as realistic as possible when it comes to things like civilian responders, everyday heroes, and how disaster response tends to work. At the end of the day they are still fiction, but they're fiction heavily grounded in reality. No "everyone for themselves/we're all animals when the lights go out" nonsense here.

Full endings. There's a bit of a trend in survival thrillers for them to end right at the climax/moment of rescue, or within a few pages of it, even if things haven't been fully wrapped up. Little Disaster Books will all have more rounded endings that delve, at least a little bit, into the aftereffects of what the characters go through, because sometimes the after is the hardest part of all.

The first book in this collection, Lie Down in the Ashes, is launching on Kickstarter on Janaury 15th, 2025! Sign up to be notified on launch here. It is about a group of teens who get caught in the middle of a fast moving wildfire that one of them accidentally starts.

Sign up to be notified on launch here.

[jadeharleyinc]

thank you for linking me to that reblog chain instead of killing me in the notes, i appreciate it (i imagine it's been a pain in the ass dealing with like a dozen replies all making the same argument i am lmfao)

i think saying "you could've used ontological instead of inherent" and "it is interesting that the user chose not to use the words victim but specifically attacked" is kind of nitpicky like, this website is full of ESLs and people who just haven't heard the word "ontological" before. it's hard for me to acknowledge this as a dogwhistle when it's basically a thesaurus dot com moment.

"In this statement, ontologically makes way less sense since, as far as I'm aware, absolutely no one has said that women are ontologically more likely to be hurt at night" i don't agree with this point! i think it's absolutely a part of the patriarchal violence playbook to argue that it's in the nature of womanhood-in-itself to be ontologically more likely to be hurt, that women are vulnerable to violence and might even Deserve It. hence why my moderately-generous reading of OP's post is that it's important to fight that conception of gender, to not let internalized biases color one's experience of transmisogynistic violence and tell oneself that being at risk and suffering is inseparably "part of womanhood".

i also don't think a misunderstanding of how TERFs work could be a secret indicator that OP is mad at feminists and transfeminists. frankly none of these strike me as dogwhistles and at this point, once you're replacing words with synonyms and critiquing ultra-specific word choices ("saying something is inherent is not the same as saying its ontological, as inherentness can be an aspect of societal manifestation, but ontologically is about the abstract philosophical concepts"- are we grading a paper here? is this really an appropriate level of scrutiny?), maybe the evidence just isn't strong enough. personally i'd be more inclined to grit my teeth and let this sort of post go by, rather than quote-dunk it with the standard banter about killing the original poster.

not sure what to make of the "most generous reading" in this post since i've established what my moderately generous reading looks like. but yeah this is why i think the statements made are deserving of a different interpretation.

I think I'll kill you instead

[plaidos]

It really isn't appropriate of you to have kept the dogpile on another transfem going for so long. You're not the sort of person that can be trusted with handling intercommunity discourse

what are you talking about? i made one post about one woman who is a consistent poster of transmisogynistic misinformation and reblogged it a couple times to continue my thoughts. i don't think that's "keeping the dogpile on another transfem going for so long"? especially when she has a much much larger following than my own? and has been directly transphobic to me on my posts before? like... sorry i think you just can't stand to see somebody you're a fan of be criticised for transmisogyny.

you're absolutely muddying the waters here by acting like my posts are anything even remotely similar to "callout posts" or "lolcowing" -- i think critiquing the words somebody posts to their public blog and doubles down on is... like.... pretty par for the course on this website? it isn't like i've dedicated multiple days to it (well, i didn't until you sent me this ask. who's keeping this going again?)

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

Warning: blink and you have a giant doc worthy of flashbacks but moving the story forward is a hassle to you, huh? this is a self critique. I guess in the end we do write what we want to read, there's no escaping our kinks.

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 9: 500 days of Azriel - part 2

DAY 348

“Hold for me!”

The feminine pitch echoed in the parking lot, bags fumbling against her ribs and sneakers thumping in concrete as she ran for the elevator, Azriel using a hand to keep the door open.

“Good morning, sexy.” A slightly out of breath Elain greeted him coming into view, a messy braid swaying from one shoulder to the other.

“That’s no way no greet your boss.” He stepped aside, allowing her to enter. “Don’t mimic me.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” Elain denied mid eye-roll, mouth already twisting to repeat his words. “I wasn’t! Gosh, you’re stiff from sunrise to sundown, and not in the fun way.”

Ignoring her blunt lie Azriel took the heavy black bag containing a heavy camera support from her shoulders and pressed their floor number.

“You chatter from sunrise to sundown, and don't see me complaining.”

Her braid slapped him in the chest, Elain turning to look at a him, mouth hanging open as if she could not believe her ears.

“Are you freaking kidding me!?! Of course, you do! You complain about it all. the. time!”

“Nah, that doesn’t sound like a me thing.”

“Unbelievable. Hold this.” she muttered pulling the light orange scrunchie from the end of her braid, nimble fingers combing through her hair to undo the thing. Azriel slipped the accessory in his wrist, watching she bang her head from one side to the other.

“Are you trying to get messier?”

“I’m giving it a sexy spin. You wouldn’t know nothing about that miss my-mommy-combs-my-hair-every-morning.”

A couple more shakes and she was done, picking her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and opening the camera app, moving her neck this way and that to check herself.

“Say My girlfriend is the sexiest in the whole world!”

Azriel frowned at the blinding flash lights coming out of nowhere.

“A little warning.”

“I like organic moments. And you never come out looking ugly anyways. Is infuriating.” She moved closer to him, opening her phone gallery and proceeding to show him the picture.

Azriel barely paid attention to himself, eyes fixed entirely on Elain, mapping the constellation of freckles framing the bridge of her nose and puffed cheeks pushed upwards by a big smile. Then her finger was swiping on the screen, showing him three more photos she managed to snap in succession

"Look at my lazy eye! Christ, even glaring you look good. Never managed to catch up with an open mouth, eyes rolling, sneezing, poking your nose, nothing! It’s like you are prepared every goddamn time.”

He chuckled at her indignation.

“Why do you take so many pictures?”

Elain shrugged.

“I like documenting stuff. Stuff that catch my attention.”

“Everything catches your attention. You have the attention span of a hyperactive toddler.”

“Oh, shut it. I bet you have some weird photos in your phone, you probably collect feet or something. Where is it?”

A sneaky hand quickly found its way to his front pocket, Elain made sure her eyes were wild open to taunt him. "My, my, is this phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

She didn’t wait for him to answer, taking the phone out with a false victory cry.

“What’s your password? No! Let me guess…. 0828?”

Her question caught him by surprise.

“You remember my birthday?”

“Sure! How could I forget you’re a tight little virgin?” Elain pumped her eyebrows up and down, getting an eye roll as response. “Wait a minute,”

“Here we go.”

Azriel stepped out from the elevator making away to the rented shoot set, not bothering to check if Elain was following. He knew she was. She would never pass an opportunity to tell him whatever nonsense she had come up with.

“Now that I think about it… does that mean I get to pop your cherry?” She gasped exaggeratedly, placing a hand in her heart. “Do not worry Marino, I’ll do right by you, I’ll give –”

“All right now, let’s not. 1234. The password is 1234.”

Elain typed the password clicking her tongue, a fake expression of disappointment fixed in place.

“Christ, you’re a grandpa. This is a terrible password, too easy to remember.”

“That’s why I put it.”

“That’s why is bad.”

She went on and on about him being an old guy who was not deserving of technology, Azriel not really paying her much attention until she squealed like a guttered bunny.

“Oh my god,”

Elain exited the gallery and return dozens of times, thinking his phone may had malfunctioned or something. Nope, the phone was working just fine. She waved it in his face.

“Why are there no pictures in here?”

“There are.” Azriel said nonchalantly, jerking his chin at the few images appearing in his gallery.

All impersonal and irrelevant, mostly pictures exchanged throughout the day in Marinos’ group chat. Elain shook her head in denial.

“I mean personal pictures, pictures of things you captured with your camera because you liked them, not because they are in a vision board from next month’s issue.”

Azriel frowned in confusion

“Why would I take pictures? I can just look at the things I want.”

Elain let out a dramatic gasp, hand to heart and everything. Before she could berate him a chirpy blonde fellow approached them.

“Morning boss. Morning El. What me to set you up?”

“Morning Tommy. You can take the bag from the handsome.”

Nonchalant, Azriel dropped the bag in the boys arms not bothering to make the transition easy, Elain’s assistant for the day nearly collapsing under the weight. Azriel watched the new intern struggling not to drag the bag away.

“I don’t like him.” He said serious. Not an ounce of strength in those arms. He would not last.

"You don't like anyone."

Morning El.

"I specially don't like him."

“Are you a serial killer?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

"This is not normal."

His phone was pushed on his chest and then Elain was back on her phone, frantically swiping her fingers across hundreds of pictures gleaming in the bright screen. Literally hundreds. She gave him the phone and Azriel kept scrolling. Different shoots of ice cream, juice, pizza, donuts, pasta and other food related items passed by.

“Are you setting a portfolio for a culinary magazine?” he joked.

Elain slapped him in the arm, the aggression changing to a caress when her fingers splayed over his shirt, curling around his covered biceps.

“God, you’re big. Strong too.”

“Open space. Office hours.” He chanted, not bothering to remove her hand. Once could say he flexed a little, but Azriel would firmly deny.

“I know. What were we talking about?”

“Food.”

“Yeah, food… I could eat you up.” She sighted lost in a dream.

“Elain.”

“I said food gives me joy.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. Judging by her phone gallery, everything gave her joy. Parcs, dogs, kids, houses, rain, trains, books, fresh laundry. Eventually, his employees began to fill the screen as well, goofing in their spare time, posing in the allocated sets with some model, posing with props, taking mirror selfies, cataloging material in their reunions, then it came him. Azriel clicked on a couple pictures of him taken recently, face serious and sleeves rolled upwards as he examined a variety of reports covering the meeting room table. He turned to Elain, questioning her with a look

"You look good when you are focused." She shrugged. “By the way, you don’t have to make the intern cry. I know you don’t believe it, but it is possible to treat people nicely and not die on the spot.”

Azriel sighed deeply. Never a single topic with this one. Elain’s mind had a tendency of jumping from one subject to the other, the conversation never floating in a single direction.

“I’m not running a daycare, Archeron. I’m their boss.”

“I know that. I still think you can be less of an asshole,” suddenly, she pointed a finger at him saying, “and praise! Everyone likes a little praising every once in a while. You never praise anyone! It’s absurd.”

“When one of them do something worthy of my praise, they’ll receive it.” A bit of silence passed, and Azriel could feel Elain starring a hole at his face. “What?”

“It’s that your kink? Making someone working hard for your praise?”

The more his ears turned red, the playful glint in her eyes shining brighter. Where Azriel wasn’t one to make jokes or sexual innuendos in public, Elain used them as a second language, not ashamed to shoot her shot any time. At first he thought he hated her jokes, annoyed at how inconvenient she was. Later, Azriel realized his annoyance came from the fact that he was not able to quip her with a response, a fitting rebuke only coming to mind when it was already too late.

“Do you like receiving it or giving it? No matter, I guarantee I can satisfy you either way.”

“Nope. I’m done talking with you now,” he announced walking away from her. “I have real work to do.”

“I work too you know! I make the stars in this set shine!” She yelled after him. “Have a good day, lover!”

DAY 424

“All I’m saying is you can tell me. I’m your brother, for fucks sake.” Cassian whined loudly from his chair, legs shaking like a goddamn toddler.

“I’m not talking to you.” Azriel said from behind is computer.

“Come on, bro. All I’m asking is a little bit of gossip from how are things progressing with our sweet little Lainy. For example, has she taken your virginity yet?”

"She's not yours anything." Aziel said monotonously, not bothering to give his brother too much attention. “And I am not a virgin.”

“Men don’t count.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure our Lainy won’t –”

“Not yours.”

"Agree to disagree. Since you decided playing this fake dating shit, she sure ought to be my something." Cassian taunted. “Come on Az, I know you are not dating her. You can come clean now, I won’t judge. Much.”

Azriel watched his brother, his restless hand tapping against the armrest, the smirk that didn’t quite meet the eye. His brow furrowed.

Azriel and Cassian had a complicated relationship in boyhood, having to relearn how to navigate around each other once they were adults. The boys weren't in speaking terms for two years of their late teens and the majority of their twenties. When they were seen together at last, everyone assumed the brothers made piece to take over the family business because it was the natural outcome for them.

In reality the biggest reason behind Azriel’s return to America was Marinos wasn’t as profitable as before. While Azriel followed Morrigan across the globe her modeling career took flight but his grandfather got sick, and Cassian –who had always been the favorite for choosing to learn the finance trade– took over the family publishing business, only then discovering the trojan horse his favorite relative had left him. Their grandfather’s entire publishing business was facing bankruptcy, the magazine being one of the remaining divisions that still hadn’t gone under.

By the time he asked for Azriel's help, it was too late to save most of the branches, but Azriel did his utter best to save Marinos –a fashion magazine originally envisioned by his mother that no one ever really cared about. It cost him four years of strenuous hard work, twenty percent of the shares sold, multiple department changes, function extinctions and staff rearrangements, and the woman he thought it was the love of his life gone, but Azriel got Marinos back to its feet.  

Azriel watched his brother, the nasty memory of their split replaying in his mind. It would be a lie for him to say pettiness wasn't what guide him to drop himself -almost- on top of Elain Archeron on that night. The woman had a massive crush on Cass, and knowing his brother's ego as he did, Cass was probably nursing said crush to act on it. That night Azriel’s drunken mind conjured a reality where if he was lucky, he would make his brother a little jealous, just enough to give him a bit of satisfaction. A petty payback for succeeding in doing what Azriel never could.

“You are awfully interested in my girlfriend.”

“Am I?”

Seeing his brother show such blunt display of interest in Elain gave Azriel a couple emotions, and satisfaction was none of them. It doomed on his mind that he had become attached to Elain rather quickly, because playing petty games Morrigan and his brother didn’t seem so interesting anymore.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, Cassian sneer daring him to submit, to speak first, to cry and beg and plead for his brother to leave him alone as he would do when they were kids. Azriel wasn’t a kid anymore.

Cassian opened his mouth, and Azriel would never hear what he was about to say. Two knocks on the wood and the brothers broke their staring contest as a twirling Elain made her way into the room, the skirt of her dress swaying around her legs.

“See? I told you it wouldn’t wrinkle! I’m all ready for – Cassian.”

Her eyes grown bigger mid-sentence, surprised to find his brother there, same brother who wasted no time in placing two finger on his mouth whistling loudly.

“I'm ready for you too. Looking good, Lainy.”

"You're back."

Azriel watched her expression change from mirthful to bashful. He wondered if she was feeling shy of embarrassed. He hoped it was the latter.

“Yep, and just in time to make your wishes come true. I’m not Santa, but you can sit on my lap and tell me everything you want. I'll give it to you."

“Christmas in long gone, Cass.” She snorted.

“Oh, a daddy is never of duty,” he winked at her.

Elain suppressed her giggle, Azriel gagging all the wall to the coach hanger. “You are disgusting.”

Cassian ignored him, all smirk and bravado as he got up and moved toward Elain, malice radiating from every step. He appraised her from head to toe. It was a rare event to see Elain in a dress. Glittering eyelids matched the cleave-free green dress that stopped a few inches above her knees, white flats completing her look. His eyes returned on her knees, his smile dropping, replaced by a frown. There, pinkish than the rest of her skin, laid a perpendicular scar dividing her knee in half, stretch marks from the stitches leaving the skin heightened in a standing position. Cassian had never noticed that scar before. He wondered if it was new.

Elain cleared her throat, a blue jacket appeared in his line of sight as she repositioned the piece of clothing in her arms to cover herself, uncomfortable with his stare. Cassian smiled at her, deciding it was best not to ask about it.

“So, where we going?”

He offered her a hand, the promise of a kiss in his eyes. Elain had always loved the kisses he deposited in her hands and cheeks, lips lingering on her skin to enjoy the squirm she thought he couldn’t notice. He did notice, every time. Cassian loved making her squirm, delighting in her little crush.

For the great shock of a nation, Cassian had not fucked Elain, but now that his brother was he wondered if he had missed some kind of swift opportunity.  Elain wasn’t ugly, and it had been a long time since he found a match to his twisted sense of humor. What a delight it was that her sense of humor came wrapped in a package with a killer pair of legs, which should definitely be exposed more often. His look drift to her chest. She didn’t have much in that department but that didn’t matter much, he was more of an ass man anyways. No, Elain wasn’t ugly at all, and Cassian liked looking at her very much.

She could dress better, tho. He preferred his women with smoked eyes, sexy dresses, thigh slits and high heels. Women looked very fuckable in heels, all perched ass and tits pushing in his direction. He loved it.

Brown eyes sparkled with joy, a pretty smile blooming on her lips as she raised her hand. Except she did not place it in his expecting one, no. A harsh push forced him to the side, Azriel replacing him to take her hand, a light kiss landing on the back.

“You looked lovely.” He complimented taking her from the room. Not bothering to say goodbye to his brother, choosing to forget he existed all together.

"Good enough to eat?"

"Behave."

"Only 'cause you asked, love."

Contrary to Azriel, Elain had not forgot Cassian was there.

"We are going on a date!" She shouted back at him while Azriel walked faster to get her away from his brother. Cunning bastard.

Cassian watched her wrap her other hand around his brother’s flaccid biceps, smiling as she murmured softly to him. His expression faltered for a second. What was so funny about Azriel’s sad lack of mass muscle? Fixing his face, he jogged towards the couple, reaching them near the elevator, meddling in the middle to keep them apart, an arm around his brother and the other around Elain.

"Now this is a development I had not seen coming. Lainy, is this some kind of bet gone wrong? You can tell me if it is, as his boss I have the power to set you free."

"You are not my boss," Azriel pipped at the same time Elain said, "We are good."

Under his arm, Elain shrugged.  Azriel breaking free to go stand at her other side, pulling her by the waist till she parted from Cassian.

“This makes no sense. You are two fight like dogs… Is little Azzy threatening you?” Cassian concluded at last. “Is that it? You can tell me if he is, I’ll beat his ass for you.”

Elain simple laughed.

"Please, like he could handle me. Did you know that my sister,"

"Is a professional MMA fighter." Azriel finished the sentence in her place, winning an ugly glare. "Yes, he knows, everybody knows. You've mentioned it. Several times."

“Meddlesome.”

“Broken record.”

“Maybe he didn’t know.”

“He knows.”

“How do you know? You’re not entitled to everyone’s knowledge.”

She bumped him with her hip, Azriel not moving an inch, and turned to Cassian.

"Anyway, your brother confessed his undying love for me, and how all that stress was his way of demonstrating affection. Like a little boy pulling the pigtails of the girl he thinks is pretty." She sighed deeply. "I knew my irresistible charms would get me in trouble someday."

"I'm right here." Azriel reprehended pulling her closer.

"Oh my, you are here, love? You are so pretty for a second there I thought you were a painting." She slapped him lightly on the cheek, Azriel grabbing her wrist on the second tap.

“No hitting.”

”Why? Is it that your kink?” She asked using a tone Cassian could not distinguish, as if she was sharing an inside joke with his brother.

The elevator doors opened, his existence completely forgotten by the couple bickering as they walked inside and off they went.

DAY 489

Had someone told him he would be outside his girlfriend’s apartment, making out against a door like a couple of fucking horny teenagers, he’d have called the bloke mad. Now here he was, being the mad man himself. One side of her overall had unbuttoned, the metallic piece rasping on the wood as Azriel pressed Elain harder against the door, two bodies merging together.

The goodnight kiss was supposed to be gentle, a tender caress to remember till he saw her again. Azriel would be gone for a couple days, and Elain insisted he walked her upstairs before he left.

“I’m not coming in,” he warned her back in the car.

“Just walk me to my door, that is.”

“I will. But I’m not coming in.”

“Gee, you said that. I just want to give you a proper goodbye,” she said with false innocence.

Liar.

Once upstairs she invited him inside again, but Azriel would budge.

“Fine. Can I at least get a kiss?”

He gave her a peck.

“Goodnight, Elain.” He said knowingly. Azriel called her by last name to annoyed her, a petulant childish trait that he seemed to have absorbed around her.

Determined hands wrapped around the lapels of his suit, Elain tiptoeing to tug him down.

“I wear black and white you think I'm a nun? Don’t you dare leave after giving me this slob sorry excuse of a kiss Azriel, or I swear to God –” Her empty threat was swallowed by a kiss.

Azriel wouldn’t admit to a soul, but riling her up was fun. Their breaths mingled in a slow and sloppy kiss, Azriel walking her backwards up till she hit her door, a painful hiss drowning on the slow sleek of his tongue. In the many days following their agreement Azriel and Elain had kissed many times, which had him quickly learning that she was a frenetic kisser, aggressive in her necessity to take the lead in a succession of hurried uncoordinated motions as someone who was ready to torn her clothes apart, moving too fast as she often did in every other aspect of her life.

Like a caveman first discovering fire, he enjoyed her enthusiasm with an intense amount of male pride burning in his chest. The problem was his body was still recovering from the aftermaths of a bad love. Until Elain, Azriel had only ever loved one woman in his life, had only ever been with her. Sure, he had been on a date here and there when things went south and they broke up for a few days of weeks. Pity-dates set by friends who could not understand why a twenty-something hadn't had a single girlfriend in his entire life, pity-dates set by worried familiars who secret thought him homosexual.

He remembered being set up with solid young women whose personalities were nearly a mirror of his own, having forgettable dates where he couldn't, for the life of him, recall what they talked about, kissing some of them goodbye with a lie ready on his lips that they should do it again. Tepid kisses that were closer to a handshake than caress between possible lovers. He went to bed with none of them.

Looking back, it was almost laughable how he caught Morrigan in an intimate act with another men more times than he liked to count but had never managed to move forward with another woman himself. Too hung up in a promise she had no interest in fulfilling. Now Azriel was done chasing a woman who had no love to give him, but his body was still fearful of getting with someone different, someone new.

He needed more time to adjust, time his volcano of a girlfriend seemed to not need at all. Tenacious hands found their way inside his jacket, running wild all the way from his hip to his neck, pressing him harder against herself, her soft breast rasping against his dress shirt with every move she made. So he had to educate her.

Where Elain was a trashing hurricane, Azriel was a placid running river, moving with deliberate slow and steadiness, guiding the kiss to a less hectic pace, leisured wet tongue kisses mingled with soft peck to stable his breathe, strong hands shaping the outside of her body without being too brazen, bold enough to soothe his curiosity in caressing her body but enough to blur the lines he wasn't ready to cross.

Hands moved to him front, trailing down from his chest to his waistline, closing precariously around his belt to get him closer. Azriel stopped the kiss, pulling away slightly. Blown-wild pupils had nearly encased the entirety of her irises, a breathless Elain looking up and expectant at him.

“I want to see you naked," she hushed. Quiet words spoken in a frenzy, a solid request with no shyness in the borders.

Despite his efforts to mellow the kisses, his heart thundered inside his chest. The feeling of soft curves molding perfectly to the hard shapes of his body making him dizzy. He collared her neck, not to choke, just to hold her in place.

“What would your neighbors say?"

Azriel meant to sound playful, calm. He sounded lustful and agitated.

Elain watched him like a hawk, searching his eyes for a bit, noting the tension in his shoulders, the uneasiness in his strained smile, a quiet tell for a question she would not ask. Not yet. With a yielding sigh, she hid her face in his chest.

"She’d probably thank you, that lady is a pervert,” came her muffled reply. “We could put on show for her.”

"Is that your kink? Exhibitionism?" His smugness could not be missed, Azriel feeling pretty proud of himself for the quick thinking. Elain had been antagonizing him about kinks for weeks, now it was his turn to make her hot and uncomfortable.

"Dunno. Wanna help me figure it out?" He groaned lordly. Of course she wouldn’t stay down. “I bet she’s more kinky, tho. Did you know she watches porn without headphones?” She lifted her head again, face soured by the memory. “We do not have good soundproofing walls, Marino. Sometimes I can hear it as I'm climbing upstairs!"

Azriel chuckled, moving his hand to her face, his thumb making circular motion in her cheek. Even at night Elain seemed to glow, her supple skin calling at him, begging for a stroke, for a touch, for a kiss. So soft and so, so,

“So pretty,” he finished out loud. The unsolicited compliment turning her face red.

She recovered quickly, fully leaning into his hand to say, “I’m prettier naked. Wanna see?”

“Out in the hallway?” He challenged mildly.

“Out in the hallways.”

“For everyone to see?”

“Eve-ry-one.” She said secured. “But mostly you.”

“You are confident."

“Maybe I am an exhibitionist.”

Azriel laughed quietly, cradling her face in both hands now, a kiss landing in her forehead. Having known Elain for over a year, Azriel has lost count of how many sexual innuendos he heard coming out of her mouth. He was mostly shocked at first, mildly annoyed later, and full-on done with them once Cassian joined the mix, an insufferable nasty match that could put hookers to shame. Then he asked her to date him, and Elain perverted agenda had seemed to find a new single target: him.

Azriel would have been caught by surprise had he not been so used to her being deliberately inappropriate. Elain wanted to have sex with him and would spare no efforts to make sure Azriel understood that, but Azriel was scare to correspond because he wasn’t sure of how his body would react with a new partner.

Truth be told, he was scare he would not react at all.

“I’m sorry.”

"If you apologize for that I'll feel like a predator." Elain grimaced, exhaling in defeat. "It’s all right, rain check on exhibitionism. This is actually a very good choice you know, I remembered I'm wearing an ugly beige bra."

Azriel gave her one last kiss.

“My favorite color.”

“You would, wouldn’t you? You do seem like a guy with a boring favorite color.”

DAY 500

Her shirt had been distracting him all afternoon. The darned thing wasn’t even a sexy one, just a simple white cotton t-shirt with a stupid drawing of potted plants having a conversation.

Azriel used her jeans belt loops to turn her around till her ass was pressed on the table "You are fun, but funny, tsk tsk. Funny is a big stretch."

His fingers dug in her in waist, cutting her cognitive abilities, stopping her from registering the insult. "Cute shirt."

Elain looked down on her white tee design, where two potted plants were having a conversation. One saying, "Aloe, how are you?", the other "Hey, long Thyme no see."

"Thanks."

He traced her lower lip, muttering. "No lipstick, today?"

Her tongue darted outside, meeting the pad of his thumb. "Didn't want to smear you."

"Glass walls. Office hours." Came his low warning.

The usually cool space of the meeting room now felt like a glass furnace, his body burning from the inside out.

"Technically, we are past office hours.” She countered with a sassy tone. “I'm friends with Marie, you know, the cleaning lady. She gave these glass walls an extra glow this morning, I can guarantee you'll find no germs in it. Now, if you wanna put some germs in it, I have a few ideas about what we could press there. Who. You. could press there. But I should warn you, the dress code suggestion may get a little skimpy."

There was no hidding his smile now, except he wasn't amused. His smile was wicked, smoldering hazel eyes hiding delirious promises. Azriel cleaned her saliva over her cheek, finding her neck. Before he could rip a page from her book and make a nasty suggestion of where to put her tongue next, knuckles rapped on the wall, a voice calling for him.

"Az."

Azriel blinked, relaxation morphing into anxiety. He didn’t recognize it at first. The voice that had not called him in a while. Her voice.

“Az?” She tried again.

Blood drained from his face. Azrriel didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The sound of clicking hills filled the unnatural silence, and he knew he could not escape any long. It would come any time now.

"Az... Azriel."

There it was. The trembling call, the crying in her voice. He withdrew from Elain completely, no wanting to soil her with the disgust leaking out of him. Taking a deep breath, Azriel faced Morrigan at last.

“Hi,” she said with trembling lips.

He didn’t greet her back. Didn’t bother too.

"Can we talk? Please. I really need to speak with you."

His heart beat faster. Beneath his skin a new kind of emotion began to shimmer, rageful and blinding, so overwhelming he didn't process Elain's soft "I'll give you a minute," didn't felt the comforting swipe of her hand on his back before she left them alone.

Elain left him and Morrigan stayed.

“I missed you. I’ve called and called and you did not answer me. You know I need you,”

Morrigan was talking.

Morrigan was talking to him.

Her mouth was moving and he had no fucking clue about what she was saying.

Azriel couldn’t listen to a single word, too busy watching her. Watching her meticulously painted cherry red lips. Not a smudge in place, not even when a tear slipped past her black-lined eye the red did not smudge. She remained perfectly put together. He followed the lonely tear all the way to her chin. From there, Azriel kept going, descending to the gold choker around her tanned neck, to the strapless blood red jumpsuit that left her arms and neck uncovered but protected everything else all the way to her ankles, finishing in the black stilettos that made no more noise because she hadn’t move an inch.

Azriel would have easily fell for it in the past. The watery eyes, the singular tear drop streaming down her cheek, the trembling lips to make sure each word came out a little shaky, just enough to make her look pitiful, careful to still enunciate them properly for him to understand every word.

Words he'd latch on, let it sink, let it drown him in guilt and misery and a feeling of longing for a relationship that never existed outside of his head.

Now that he didn't listen to her, Azriel saw her. Her well-manicured coffin nails, the sunglasses on top of her head, the lasted Dior jumpsuit draped over her body. Nothing in her posture or clothes showed a person suffering as she claimed to be. 

Azriel saw Morrigan and it saddened him how easily it was to manipulate him.

To let himself be manipulated.

“Are you done?” His question was cold, cutting her sob story in half.

Morrigan sniffed, big brown eyes looking pitifully at him until she saw his resigned expression. His lack of will to entertain her. That's when her face changed, her real self breaking through the cracks of the insecure and pitiful persona she was trying to play. She looked at him regal and feral, Morrigan looked at him with the uttermost conviction that she could bring him back to her world in the snap of her fingers.

"Are you done?" she repeated back at him. Voice clear as water.

"I'm done with you."

"Stop this bullshit Azriel, we both know you don't have it in you." She pulled a small hand mirror from her purse, padding the area beneath her eye where a second tear was coming down. "I've entertained you long enough. It's time for you to go back to where you belong."

"And where would that be?"

"Beside me."

Azriel was stunned for a second. Then he was laughing, howling even. His laughter was a sad thing, carved from disbelief. He must have misheard her. Behind me, that's where she meant. Behind her, after her, pinning for her like a dog while she lived her life to the fullest not bothering to give a fuck about him. Azriel ran a hand over his hair to pull the edges hard, moving on to rub his face furiously. No, no, no. He wasn't doing this, he wasn't going to entertain her anymore.

Sharp nails carved a path on his forearm as he tried to pass by her, Morrigan grabbing him with all the strength she could must.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"I'm talking, Azriel."

"I'm not listening, Mor."

Azriel held her stare, all the love he once felt turning into an ugly thing inside his chest. She held him harder, nails sinking deeper. Her voice reflecting every ounce of authority she deem to exercise over him

"I'm talking, Azriel. And you're listening."

[unknownperson246]

a/n: So like could you please do modern slash with a Victoria secret model and like she's very busy and has to fly out allot so they might argue about that can it include angst and fluff please

Hi so I misread she and I accidentally kind of did it from slash getting pissed off because he has to fly out a lot but I hope you enjoy it anyway (sorry for the mix up.)

The Show:

Words: 555

Warnings: *angst* *fluff*

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

You were Slash’s long-time girlfriend. Slash is fifty-nine and you are in your late twenties. You were a Victoria's Secret model. You were always away from Slash most of the time since he was always on tour and you were always at fashion shows and photoshoots. He was always busy. He couldn’t fly out because if he did he’d always have to go back and forth and that is a lot of jet lag for someone who has to play their guitar in front of millions of people. So far he could only make it to one of your shows and it was very important to you because you put all of your energy into it. Soon you felt your phone buzz. You saw it was Slash and your heart stopped. He wouldn’t usually call you at the last minute. What if something happened? You asked yourself. You answered the phone. Slash’s voice was raspy and he sounded like he had been woken up from his sleep. 

“Hey, honey. I just wanted to say I’ll be there soon!” Slash sounded frustrated even in his drowsed state.

“See you soon,” You whispered into the phone. You cut the phone call off. 

Your heart sank. You felt that he wasn’t happy with whatever you were doing but you put this distracting thought to the side. The next morning you woke up in your hotel room next to Slash confused about how he even found you. He was here earlier than you expected

“Slash honey?” You combed your fingers through his curly tangled hair.

“Hmm?” He mumbled in his half-awake state. 

“It’s almost time.” You said.

“Okay just give me ten minutes,” Slash said. 

“No honey we don’t have ten minutes,” You said frustrated. 

You coaxed him out of his sleep. 

“What the fuck?” Slash spat out.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, crossing your arms. You were pissed off. 

“Don’t you fucking realize I have to catch two planes back and forth just to come to your silly little fashion shows?” He said lying back down in bed. 

You could see he was drained from all the traveling and the shit he has to deal with at rehearsal. 

“I’m fucking sorry you find my little silly fashion show infuriating to be at!” You yelled at him. 

You were on edge; you had to take your frustrations and stress out somehow. This was the last way you wanted to do it. 

“I never fucking find your concerts and guitar playing silly especially the fucking grown age you at. You should fucking quit!”  You exclaimed. 

“Fuck you Slash grab your shit and leave.” You pointed at the door and you threw his sloppy luggage out of your messy hotel room. 

Slash grabbed you and hugged you out of nowhere.

“Don’t say anything, just take a deep breath. Don’t push me away either.” Slash said softly.

You obeyed his words. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. Your fashion shows aren’t silly you look fucking sexy in them it just makes me feel want to come down on you.” Slash whispered in your ear. 

“Okay fine I forgive you but we have to go now. I have to get ready at the studio and then I have to walk in front of harsh critiques.” You said after giving Slash a quick kiss on the lips.  

[wyvernspirit]

So after watching all of Jentry Chau Vs The Underworld in the past 2 days I've quite a bit to say

This show needed to be two seasons long, I feel half my critiques would probably not exist if it got the runtime it deserved

Kit had the most interesting character arc and was done the most dirty of everyone by the lack of runtime later in the season and also the characters around him??? Can everyone stop treating Kit like shit for two seconds please??

I at multiple points went "God this feels like arcane levels of Greek tragedy" so it has that going for it

If it has ended as a season 1 on episode 9 (I think? The episode where she's out on the field and Cheng revived his daughter then the portals are opened) it could have been a really solid set up for a season 2, but unfortunately the next final episodes feel incredibly jam-packed and rushed with no room to breathe

The music and fight scenes were arguably the best part of the show, there was some really interesting "camera" work too

I didn't like how Michael basically played with 3 girls feelings for the whole show, particularly sorry to girl from the last episode who doesn't even get a name as far as I can tell

(also the way he went "and Kit did you love him too??" as some kind of snap back to Jentry like HE DIDNT LITERALLY JUST DIE MICHAEL CAN YOU STFU FOR TWO SECONDS NOT THE TIME)

Michael kinda just sucked? Like I wanted to like him but he's very meh to me and I'm sorry but the reveal of him actually being really bad at the flute just, threw me off completely especially because instruments are expensive!! He didn't buy it on a whim, the whole thing is he's supposed to have this deep passion for music but like it's not really reflected at all?? There's not even any conversations between him and Jentry about music outside band tryouts

And him having powers I guess could have been set up for a season 2 but we end this season really conclusively? All the plot threads and character arcs wrapped up. Like if anything I could see a spin off with him maybe but- like I don't want one, I just could see that happening

Actually to go back a paragraph for a second, that's something the show does a few times where it drops these very sudden interests of the characters and pretends they had them all along?? Like Jentry and baton twirling, like come on wouldn't it have made more sense if she got sought out by the school dance team or something?? Or just have her main spirit fighting weapon be a baton!! Show her having genuine interest in that aspect of spirit fighting and then have it reflect later in school? Like why did these girls see a video of Jentry dancing and go "Hey she could probably baton twirl!" that makes no sense!

The animation was really great! More than that even, I love the art style and art direction this show has, it really gave me some major inspiration! I want to draw some fanart really badly!!

Okay this a major IN MY OPINION, low-key I think the show might have been more interesting if it was just set in Seoul for the whole time, I preferred Jentrys friends there, I much preferred the environments and the colours the art direction had in the setting of Seoul

I didn't really care for Texas in the show and It made the feelings of her later questioning if she should return or not be hollow to me the viewer, because I was like OF COURSE SHE SHOULD

Stella is a character I have complicated feelings on! I really did not care for the minuet of Michael's introduction at school her getting weighed down as just "the girlfriend" character and how Jentry wasn't allowed form a meaningful connection to her until after Michael and her broke up, hell Stella basically gets forgotten by the plot until the last 4ish episodes, and IN THOSE she's a REALLY fun and strong character! I love how she started learning seals and was such a a big part of them winning that final fight at the school, which frankly I don't think she gets enough credit for

And while I find her blushing at Jentrys other friend cute it just makes me sigh because now I realize the show totally could have just done a "Fuck the boys" Jentry x Stella ship and I would have been totally down

Actually low-key I think my ideal is Kit and their Girlfriend Jentry and Jentrys Girlfriend Stella ((and I guess maybe Stella's boyfriend Michael if he got written better, but meh don't expect me to include him in the polycule if I ever write Fics/draw art for this show))

Also speaking of Kit god I would love them to be genderfluid or I guess it to be acknowledged? As queer and not just, because their a skin walker. Like you can read them that way because of them being a skin walker demon but like if it was acknowledged in the show after making Jentry's skin he experimented a little with how he looked as Kit and his sense of fashion and style!!

Idk I would have loved it, I have some strong feelings on how this show had hints of queerness but never actually acknowledged that queerness besides I guess Jentrys fake parents being like "So do you have a boyfriend?? ..or a girlfriend??" Which I mean, I guess, diversity win the cat spirits pretending to be your dead parents don't care if your gay!

I was very invested in the mysteries of the Chau family for the whole run I just wish that they had time to breathe, we went from one revelation to the next and each one hit just that little bit less because there was no down time given between them.

Okay overall though, it's going to be rotating in my mind like a microwave for the next two weeks I can tell

I don't know if it's strong enough to stick around as a major fixation but maybe a minor one where I occasionally get drawn back over the characters who had so much potential to me

I'd say a solid like 8/10

Yeah I know I just did all that whining and complaining

But I did genuinely enjoy most of the viewing experience and the ideas behind it

It was good, I think other people should give it a try, it deserves a lot more love and attention for sure

[bibibbon]

Hey Let play a game! I’m gonna say stuff about a character and you have to guess who this character (note:sorry for any grammar error)

1-He use his quirk on a person (who he act possessive over) when this person said no.

2-He act asshole towards Izuku.

3-He think Izuku doesn’t deserve OFA.

4-He mentored a boy who look oddly similar to this person he act possessive with.

5-He think he have the right to say about OFA.

6-He think he have to say about the life of a person (who , again act possessive) with excuse that “he care about him/that for his own good”.

You probably thinking I was talking about AFO

Wrong!

I was talking about Nighteye

( Obviously AFO is way worse person than Nighteye , but what I trying to say that if I was Yoichi/the OFA users I will feel uncomfortable and angry the way Nighteye acting towards All Might and Izuku (and Mirio) )

I am going to be so honest when u was first reading this. The first character that came to mind wasn't AFO, but it was Bakugo. That is until statement 4, and then I started to think of AFO.

Respectfully, I don't think Nighteye actually gets enough hate and criticism, and maybe that is due to the lack of screentime he gets within the story of MHA and how the narrative doesn't actually ever call nighteye out for his actions.

I believe that due to the narrative not actually calling out sir nighteye for his actions, most people forget just how much of a jerk he really is and overall nighteyes character goes to waste.

Rereading the overhaul arc and looking over sir Nighteye's character profile really caught my attention, especially with the way that Horikoshi chose to describe Nighteye as the "Japanese counterpart to an Americanised All might."

To me, it looked like horikoshi could have used both all Might and sir nighteyes characters to actively critique the core principles of hero society. Yes, they both try to do good, but we can actively see how much damage they have caused.

For example, both all Might and Sir nighteye perpetuate a toxic work environment where we see them overwork themselves and others to an unhealthy degree.

They are also both contrasts. All Might is shown to do the physical work. He is a symbol of strength and freedom, while nighteye is a symbol of dedication and laughter due to his love for jokes. They both have a personality surrounded by the idea of smiling all Might, smiling physically to comfort people, and sir, nighteye enjoying jokes that his workers and he makes.

Nighteye's work ethic is shown to be more cooperate toxic based, whereas all Might's is more physical toxic based.

Sure, they both had noble intentions at the start, but they also both caused a lot of damage to those around them and to themselves. Sir Nighteye's failures as a hero caused an entire fiasco when it came to Eri and the yakuza while All Might’s own failures as a hero caused for AFO to still be alive and for him to almost die.

They both have their own protégé whom they entrust their legacy to in hopes for a better future. Funnily enough, their protégé also resemble one another, and mirio resembles all Might while izuku resembles sir nighteye.

They're essentially two sides of the same coin when it comes to hero society of MHA and the series should of explored their clashing ideologies a lot more whether that be through both of them or through their own protégé mirio and izuku who ironically end up having two contrastingly different views when it comes to what action should of been taken to helping rescue Eri.

All might in the spotlight while Sir nighteye is in the shadow they are essentially the two halves that make up the hero side of hero society

As I mentioned before, sir, nighteye's toxic work ethic and environment that he facilitates in his agency should have been explored and should have been tied into the failures of the overhaul arc.

It seems that in a very disingenuous and cheap way to create a lighthearted and productive environment, Sir Nighteye goes to huge levels of extreme to create comedy and we see it as he literally has a torture type device called tickle hell that he uses to punish his workers if they aren't funny enough. This is the same mindset that a very toxic manager would have.

Sir Nighteye's work ethic also ends up being heavily problematic with him greenlighting a lot of things like children going to a professional yakuza raid or his poor communication skills when it comes to getting information across to everyone about the raid and assuming that because of his quirk he knows best so he has that superiority complex which causes him to talk down to people whether that be intentionally or not.

However, the series could have also explored the tragedy behind Sir Nighteye's quirk. The tragedy in having the power of knowing what will happen but not having the power to prevent it or not having the power to change the course of events.

I assume that, sir, nighteye some time in the past must of tested the limits to his quirk probably when he was a hero and it had a tragic outcome which would explain the reason why he seems to believe that the future cannot change and that what happens will happen. Something must of happend for nighteye someone with so much information to fall into a depressing doom of inevitability and for him to beg all Might to quit to at least look after himself to stop running to his own death.

In the end, it seems that all might and nighteye switch positions to an extent with sir nighteye dying and all might living. In the end, all of that information couldn't save nighteye at all, and in the end, nighteye died due to a chain of mistakes all of them could be linked back to the slow corruption of hero society.

[canonically47]

i cannot ever get over gi-hun actually. the fact that he chooses to believe in the good of humanity even after witnessing what he has, and that he joins the games AGAIN with (mathematically) even LESS chances of survival JUST because he wants to save people, people who DON'T CARE, people who are SELFISH and who continuously betray and hurt him just fucking KILLS ME. a very big critique from many people (and i've noticed, especially men) about the second season and gi-hun's character is that he is stupid. they find him to be stupid that he has this weak spot for an uncaring crowd, that he comes back to the games to save people who wouldn't think of him twice, instead of going to his daughter. they think that him caring and despising a system this deeply is a sign of weakness and stupidity.

but if anything, i find it admirable. maybe i can't bring myself to hate him because i think i'd do the same thing. i watch him on-screen and think, "yeah, i would do that too", every single mistake, every single thing, i get him. and he may look stupid to some but i think if anything, he's just too caught up in an ideal world in which people care, but i find it admirable that this is his personality even after witnessing the previous games. he still has hope, they haven't wiped it away from him. comparing him to in-ho is like night and day, because in-ho was broken by the games and came back to perpetuate that same hurtful system, while gi-hun was broken by the games and came back to break the people that created the system, and the system itself.

he speaks to me, as an individual who clings to hope until his very last breath, who can never seem to learn from his mistakes because he is so stubborn, he wants to prove that humanity could, and should, have hope and that it's worth to fight for it, not to just leave for a different continent and forget about it. that's what draws me to him, this endless fight in him, i can't find him stupid because he's so desperate to change things. and he never gives up even after his friends die before him.

idk i just am really unwell about gi-hun. i think people treat him too harshly. i'm unsure how well this is worded, but what i really want to say is that i don't think he should be perfect and immediately learn from every single mistake he has ever made. the fact that he is this broken given his past, even before the games he's set up as this really caring and traumatized individual, and that they double down on his same characteristics that make him so incredibly real... he's just really special to me. i really admire the way he is written and i think he's a really good representation of people who fight for a change even when it all seems lost. he's just that kind of guy that doesn't, couldn't, will never give up. and i really love that.

[redux-iterum]

Sorry for all the questions from me recently,, but I've been planning to write a fanfic that takes place before pinestar exists in riverclan, blast to the past if you will! I just wanted to ask if you have any tips or advice because I really look up to your writing!

No worries about questions! I'm happy to answer if I can. I'll try to give some advice on writing in general, and hopefully it'll help you.

Figure out what pace will help you keep going on the project, fanfic or original, and work with that. If writing 200 words a day every day or 1k words every three days is your comfortable speed and keeps you from getting exhausted, then don't force yourself to Stephen King it and write an excess of 2k every single day. Your goal is to enjoy yourself here and keep going until it's completed. It won't be worth it if you suffer the whole time.

That being said, at times you may need to strap yourself down and just get through the part you don't want to write. This requires some discipline and self-training, but it is doable. The reward of getting to the part you're excited about is completely worth the work of writing when bored. I can very much promise you that. Every single thing I've ever worked on, I've had to force myself to keep writing/drawing at some point, and every time I've been happy that I worked until I got my reward of the part I was psyched to get to. Hell, I'm doing that right now with the next book in this series! And, fun fact, the more you do it, the easier it gets. Sort of like exercise!

If you need to plan ahead of time to finish a project like I do, then you might could borrow my method of planning: write down one or a couple sentences describing the overall, most basic idea of the plot (literally just something like "[Character] in RiverClan finds a secret plot by [other character] to overthrow the leader, stops them, and then discovers that they were right to be suspicious about the leader's secrets and helps oust the leader"); write down all the story beats and character moments you have in mind in no specific order; break down the plot into more chewable chunks using the aforementioned beats and moments to help you figure out the connecting veins to each chunk; and from there, go smaller and smaller as needed until you have enough to work with that you're comfortable writing. I personally like to write a summary of each chapter as well - all of them - before starting to actually write those chapters. It helps me keep track of everything and prevents me from fucking up the story I had in mind by being impulsive and forgetting the plan.

Even if you love a moment, character or line of dialog, if it isn't working with everything else and is disrupting the flow of the story, don't be afraid to throw it out. It's hard and I hate doing it myself, but sometimes it's just time to get rid of something you're attached to. "Kill your darlings" doesn't just mean killing a character you like, it means taking out things that you love no matter how much it feels like ripping out a tooth. You can always find a way to use whatever it is later in something else.

If you have a willing beta/editor, by GOD, ask for their help. A second set of eyes is crucial to ensuring the quality of your story. The thing is that you're too close to your creation to know for sure if it's good to everyone else - even if it genuinely is amazing, you have no idea because you made it. Having someone outside the circle of sentiment to read and say, "Hey, this dialog doesn't sound very realistic" or "Huh, I thought this piece was foreshadowing something else, maybe clear that up a little" is, while painful to your ego, more precious than a pot of gold. Appreciate the critique you get. It's awesome for your growth. Do know that not all critique is going to be helpful to your specific writing style, but a lot of it is very much worth paying attention to and taking a minute to mull over and decide whether to humor it or not. This, too, you will get better at differentiating over time.

All this said, remember that if you're not getting a paycheck, you're doing this for fun. You are under no obligation to finish a story that's making you miserable. You'll have to learn the difference between "fic I'm in a boring moment of" and "fic that's actively harming my mental wellbeing because I feel obligated to complete it", and sometimes you'll need a second person to voice your thoughts to in order to judge that. If it sucks, hit da bricks! Don't punish yourself for having to stop, or even just taking a break. A fanfic is not worth your sanity. Trust me on this.

That shit got long and I apologize. Hopefully this helped!

[eyneyke]

Sam is back online!

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 34 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

[Felix's vlog starts]

Felix(laughing while running down the street): “Guys, Jack just told me it’s the off week for F1, which means my genius brother Sam is back in the UK! He just texted me that he’s home, so you know what time it is—I'm barging in again. Time for some chaos!”

[Camera shows Felix bursting into Sam’s flat]

Felix: “Saaaam! Where are you?”

[Camera pans to Sam half under a table, searching for something. Sam jumps, hitting his head on the table]

Sam(groaning): “Felix, I swear—one of these days, I’m going to steal my key back from you.”

Felix(laughing): “And yet, you haven’t. What are you doing under there, anyway?”

Sam(rubbing his head sarcastically): “Oh, just looking for a screw that apparently decided it didn’t want to deal with this family anymore. You know, the usual.”

Felix: “Well, I thought I’d come over since you’re finally back in the UK. You down for a stream later with Jack?”

Sam: “Sure, why not? I’ve only got a million things to do, but hey, I’ve got time for your nonsense.”

[Felix's phone rings—it's Jack. Felix puts him on speaker]

Jack(excitedly): “SAM! Dude, you’re a legend! What you pulled last weekend? Man, that was insane! I can’t believe how you—"

Felix(interrupting): “Wait, wait—what happened last weekend? What are you guys talking about?”

Jack: “Oh, you don’t know? Sam practically worked a miracle! Max went from dead last to winning the race, and Sam—”

Sam(cutting Jack off quickly): “It’s nothing, Jack. No big deal. Just a regular weekend at the office.”

Felix(frowning): “Wait, what? Max? What miracle?”

Sam(dismissing it): “Nothing you need to worry about. Anyway, are we streaming, or are you here to get a crash course on my job?”

Felix(laughing): “Okay, okay. Moving on—what are you doing down there under the table?”

Sam( grinning, leaning back from under the table): “Unlike you, I like to keep tabs on what my brother is up to when I’m away. I watched your last video during a break a couple weekends ago, and Max and I… Well, let’s just say we were not impressed.”

Felix(mock gasp): “Excuse me? What was wrong with my video?”

Sam(teasing): “Oh, you know… only that it looked like it was filmed on a potato. So, since I care about your image, I’m building you a new PC.”

Felix(laughing): “You and Max critiquing my video quality? Harsh, man.”

Sam(smirking): “Hey, I’m just looking out for you. Can’t have my famous brother’s content looking like it came out of 2010. Besides, if I have to suffer through watching it, at least make it bearable.”

[Comments start rolling in on the vlog/live]

@SamFanGirl: “OMG Sam being so nonchalant about saving a race and roasting Pewds’ setup at the same time?? I stan.”

@Formula1Nerd: “Wait, Felix doesn’t even know what happened last weekend? He doesn’t follow F1??”

@ThirstyForSam: “Sam casually saying he watched Pewds’ last video with Max Verstappen like it’s NBD… and also, can we talk about Sam in Red Bull gear? 😍”

@PewdsNation: “Sam’s like, ‘I rebuilt a car and made Max win, no big deal,’ and now he’s fixing PewDiePie’s PC. This man can do it all!”

---

Felix(laughing): “So, you’re building me a new PC just because of one video?”

Sam(deadpan): “No, Felix, I’m building you a new PC because your current one is an insult to the entire tech community.”

Felix(laughing harder): “Alright, alright, I get it! How long until it’s ready?”

Sam(mock serious): “Depends… how many more times are you going to barge in while I’m working?”

Felix: “Touché. I’ll leave you to it—for now.”

---

[Comments continue]

@TeamSam: “Sam casually dragging Pewds’ tech setup while being a race-saving genius—what a legend!”

@F1Insider: “Jack wanted to hype Sam up, but Sam’s like ‘nah, it’s nothing.’ Can we all be this humble, please?”

@PewdsFanClub: “I need Jack’s reaction to every race from now on. No excuses.”

@FanForLife: “Sam literally saved Max’s race, but he’s more concerned about Felix’s PC quality. What a guy!”

[as-if-bruh]

He tried to act chill but he went so far to not listen to the criticism on his video. From what it looks like, he never wanted to like Demon slayer, or properly explain why it’s wrong, only using the basic and easy arguments like Tahiti and Nezuko boring, Hashira sucks, the powers are lame yada yada.

The point that irritated me the most was the misogynistic point; Obviously, I don’t speak for all women, but, as one who considers herself progressive, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about imo. I’m glad that he doesn’t act like misogyny doesn’t exist, but the point of, oh the characters are feminine and therefore are bad just sucks. I understand it somewhat, how women don’t only want to be stuck with feminine stereotypes and roles, but like, that wasn’t his critique; he was saying that because the characters have feminine breathing styles, that it’s bad and therefore misogynistic.

Anyways, Demon Slayer is so unfairly picked on. I’ve seen lots of people pick and poke at so many things they dislike about it, but act like other anime’s like: MHA, JJK, AoT, and One Piece are perfect (I love all of those shows as well.) They say it’s too childish and simple, pretending like all of demon slayer is ‘Tanjiro kills demon’ while going to pick apart other anime’s to show why they’re so good..

Im not expressing myself clearly and I know I ran into a bunch of circles, oopsies. But all in all, a lot people watch it unforgivingly, and usually go ‘oh ho, this is too simple for my big brain and superb taste, and therefore anyone who enjoys this is stupid.’ Which is irritating.

Anyways, another banger post. Happy late New years, this year will be better than the last :3.

Uhm...hello...oh my god, okay, this is my first time doing this so I probably should apologize in advance for I just know this is going to be a big yap session (there'll definitely be a question, trust).

I'm rather new to the KnY fandom so I haven't really completed the manga yet (as in, analyzed it) although I've gotten all the Spoilers I could get. I've read the light novels to an extent, too)

Sanemi really became my favourite character although it was a connection I couldn't really explain or express since he unfortunately remains one of the most hated characters in DS, and yes I began shipping Giyuu x Sanemi even though many people seem to think that's weird and came out of the blue.

A Pinterest pin with a link to your page; a post where you had a theory that Sanemi had some form of anxiety...and boy am I grateful to the person who made that post, I've been hooked to your blog ever since.

So, uhm, first of all let me just say that I love all your writings. They're convincing, elaborate, and the amount of research you've put into them is mind blowing! The Obanai analysis, the fandom discourse, to name a few, are some of my favourites. I've only read a few, so you might've already made a post answering a question similar to this, but uh...lemme ignore that. Okay, that's enough...onto the questions.

I wanted to ask you about Giyuu and Sanemi's relationship. One thing critics love to say is that their relationship would be "toxic." (That Giyuu's uncommunicative ways will be irritating and unbearable for Sanemi and since he's shown to be rather impatient, he'd lash out and Giyuu will only become even more quiet.) I genuinely want to know what you'd have to say about this. I can already tell you're an unapologetic GiyuuSane shipper, so I wanna know, as I don't know much about their relationship myself, but found that I adored the ship so much it became too much to bear.

Another thing is about Demon Slayer itself. I'm almost very sure that you are aware of how many people criticize the show. I've fallen in love with KnY and I genuinely want to understand why it's hated so much. So far I've been hearing that KnY is badly, poorly written; it has one-dimensional/ one-sided characters, sucks at world-building, is inconsistent, overrated, mid, cliché, unoriginal and what not. I've seen somebody make a freaking hour-long YouTube video on why DS is that bad. (I'm unsure if you've seen it, though.) Some people say there's way too much plot armour and the villains got nerfed, that Douma vs Shinobu fight was just the author rushing things; apparently the ending was rushed too. Its pacing was "horrible" the backstory dumping and the endless monologue is annoying to them, and "the only personality the characters ever have is their backstory." Someone even commented "the characters are basically caricatures with catchphrases."

I've heard that Obanai's character is boring, inconsistent and lacked development (that his character can literally be summed to "I hate all women except Mitsuri"), that Zenitsu is annoying, terribly written and is wasted potential, that Kanao is a typical Y/N character and that the Kamado siblings are nothing special, and are extremely generic and boring (especially Nezuko, she seemingly has zero personality.) Idk much, but there are some posts on Pinterest saying that all the canon ships except the Uzuis have poor writing. Even Giyuu seems to be a "Wattpad mafia lord who acts like he's carrying too much pain." Basically they're saying the characters are one-sided, lacking in development, mid, the villains are auraless, the anime is cliché and has nothing unique to it, and the only thing that carries KnY is Ufotable's animation.

Now the reason I'm writing to you is because I really, really want to know what your opinion on this is. I mostly think perspectives differ based on how people define "good" or "bad" writing, everyone has varied views; however as much as I want to defend an anime I've surprisingly grown embarrassingly attached too, I think you're better qualified. It hurts when people attack something that's close to your heart, even if it is just a bunch of pixels. I'm probably stupid to get affected by mere criticisms of a damn ANIME this much, but unfortunately this doesn't seem like something I can control. I am a deranged, cowardly escapist so I didn't even watch the criticisms properly but got the gist of it.

Uhm...yeah, I'm very sorry if I sound demanding, you can take your time, it doesn't matter how long it takes to reply (it's okay if you don't even want to reply, needed to get this off my chest to someone somehow), please don't stress yourself out, I've seen all the amazing titles you're preparing for, wish you luck.

(Okay I'll stop now. Sorry.)

Hey Anon,

I hope you're doing well.

Not gonna lie your ask made me tear up a bit especially towards the end of it because I get you, I get you so, so fucking much. Being a Demon Slayer fan, specifically an English-speaking Demon Slayer fan, is tough. It's like everywhere you look, all you see is negativity towards the series. At some point, you start to feel like you're the only one, you start to doubt yourself and feel, just as you described, crazy and deranged for getting so emotionally attached to such a'mid' anime series.

But lemme tell you this. Fuck those guys. Never be embarrassed for getting emotionally attached to a piece of media, that's what makes you human, it means that you have the time to critically assess and think about what you watch instead of just consuming it mindlessly. Creators LOVE people like you, and I'm absolutely sure that Gotogue-sensei would be touched that her work means so much to you. It's better to be attached or be a stan of something than to be a mindless bot wading through life with no passion for anything.

And I'm not just saying this because I'm also a deranged fan. This applies to any piece of media or any anime series. You know your heart, you know what you've been through in life, you know how life especially in this century is so fucking hard where it seems like everything is trying to crush you, where it feels like you're constantly trying to keep your head afloat in a vast ocean of despair being weighed down by, well, everything and if you find that one life raft that keeps you above the surface, that one thing that allows you to keep on going, that one ray of sunshine that makes you think hey maybe the world isn't so bad, as long as you’re in your lane, just enjoying KnY and engaging with the fandom in a positive way then who the FUCK are those barely sentient pieces of shit to take it away from you?

So with that being said, let's explore your concerns

SaneGiyuu is toxic

I feel the reason people think it’s a toxic ship is because a huge chunk of the fandom tends to infantilize Giyuu and vilify Sanemi. Which is a side effect of the lack of media literacy and shallowness that a lot of people possess.

Giyuu is always made out to be this soft, quiet, uwu-baby boy who is in need of protection because he's constantly bullied by the big, scary meanies like Sanemi and Obanai. Which people with working brains will know is far from the truth; Sanemi and Obanai talk shit about him yes, but if talking shit about someone constitutes as bullying then we’re all bullies and I bully my former boss.

Sanemi on the other hand is always made out to be either this irredeemable monster or this dominant, feral, 'hide-your-daughters' type man who's always alpha and on top, grrrrrr, he's both demonized and sexualized by a lot of fans. So with this mischaracterization of both characters, it's no wonder that people will see SaneGiyuu and come to the conclusion that it’s toxic because all they see is this soft, baby-uwu angel being paired up with this rabid monster. They want Sanemi and Giyuu to be Izuku and Bakugou from MHA so badly, which is just dumb. The other detractors of this ship usually lack the ability to recognize subtext or are just plain homophobic, thinking that the ship interferes with their fantasies.

Here’s a list of some posts I’ve made refuting these claims, but also exploring their dynamics. Just like you, this ship is really important to me because of it’s underlying themes of found family, trauma, miscommunication, isolation. And just the comfort of finding someone who has been through the same things you’ve been through and understands your pain.

The Anime is mid

Since you're new to the fandom it’s no surprise that the 'Demon Slayer is mid' comments would get to you, they used to get to me too. Long time fans will tell you how they’ve learned to just tune out the nonsense and focus on the fandom. Like yea yea we heard you, demon slayer is only carried by the animation, when you’re tired of complaining you’ll shut up and go back to snorting the Cheetos dust off your keyboard 🙄. 

I consider Demon Slayer a litmus test on how people analyze media, especially media that doesn’t have elements that they’re familiar with. See, here’s one thing that a lot of people, even fans of Demon Slayer, don’t get. Demon Slayer is a character driven story—every event or fight is done for the development of the characters in the story. That's why the plot is so simple because it’s not about the plot, it’s about the characters. When people criticize KnY’s plot for being simple, I can’t help but laugh because almost all the greatest stories in humanity have simple plots or some none at all.

Lord of the Rings is about a bunch of dudes who travel to a tower to destroy a ring. 

Gladiator is about a fallen general who is out for revenge on the emperor who betrayed him. 

The Matrix doesn't even have a proper goal until the third act of the movie. 

Harry Potter is about a bunch of kids who want to defeat the wizard that killed Harry's parents. 

American Psycho doesn't even have a proper story structure. It's just about a psychotic dude who goes axe-crazy, literally. 

The Star Wars franchise is about a bunch of people rebelling against a dictatorship. 

Sam Raimi's Spider-Man is about Peter facing the Villain of the week.

So why are these stories so close to our hearts? It’s because of the characters. All this talk about characters being nerfed, fights being boring, plot armor, pacing etc. etc. are all plot-related complaints which don’t apply to the story because it’s all about the characters. Those who say the characters are one-dimensional are just fucking stupid, lazy and shallow-minded. The rest don’t even properly watch the anime or read the manga, they just parrot whatever opinions are popular at the moment.

It also doesn't cater to the western gaze. KnY is completely and unapologetically Japanese, it can’t take place in anywhere but Japan. it’s so rich with Japanese culture, mythologies, folktales, and stories that it’s either you get it, try to get it or you don’t. Even the name 'Kimetsu no Yaiba' directly translates to Blade of Demon Destruction and not just any blade either, Yaiba specifically refers to a Japanese sword. It’s a love letter to Japan that celebrates Japanese culture and values so much that it borders on nationalism 😂. This is foreign to some anime dudebros who are used to anime that either takes place in modern Tokyo, Western-inspired fantasy countries, some version of 'San Fransokyo' or the Edo period.

This especially goes for that arrogant streak of shit who has dryer lint for hair that made the 1hr-long video. I’m sorry, but I’ll be damned before I entertain the opinions of someone who thinks Walter White is a great, complex character. Like bitch, you're not some deep, philosophical critic, you’re just a stupid edgelord who just happened to snare the interest of other stupid edgelords who want to feel like their existence and opinions matter in the grand scheme of things.

Here's a video where the creator refutes that asshole's bullshit criticisms. And here are some other positive and more nuanced analysis videos by people who have actual brains and, y'know, HAVE ACTUALLY WATCHED THE FUCKING ANIME AND READ THE FUCKING MANGA! Here, here, here and here. I'll post them in my pinned post and update when I find more stuff.

So please don't feel sad Anon! Nothing any of these cum-stain-should’ve-beens spew out of the cesspool inside their skulls will change the fact that Demon Slayer is a cultural phenomenon that revitalized the manga and anime industry. It is so popular that even the prime minister of Japan is a fan, that it introduced millions of people to not just anime/manga culture but also Japanese culture, that it revitalized the anime industry. There's also the debate about how it apparently outsold the entire comic book industry in 2020 and university researchers have studied and published analysis pieces on the characters. Not bad for a 'mid' series 😤

I hope I was able to answer your questions, and make you feel better. I'm glad you love my work but most importantly:

FUCK YEA!!! WE GOT ANOTHER GIYUUSANE BELIEVER!!!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Unsolved Mysteries.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[uncanny-tranny]

One thing I have seen - even from other trans people! - is this specific implication that while it's inevitable that trans men pass, but trans women are essentially doomed if they want to pass.

I could talk for days about the intricacies of passing for trans people in general. I could talk for hours about why some trans people want to pass, and that it shouldn't be forced. I could talk about the intricacies for trans men and others when it comes to passing because the dynamics don't play out the way it does for cis men a lot of times. But what gets me is the idea that trans women could never pass, that those who do are essentially anomalies is... nasty. It's got nasty implications, and it's feels even nastier when trans people do it.

Trans women, trans men, trans people of all types shouldn't be required, pressured, or forced to pass. That is true. But to say that passing is nigh impossible for an entire subsect of trans people will never not read as evil.

[elexuscal]

thinking about the Good Place, specifically season 1 and the start of season 2. And like how they serves as a meta commentary on what sit coms and tv is in general these days. You come up with an initial premise and the premise is GOOD. But inevitably that premise cannot keep forever. the characters need to grow and change. But that premise is the show's identity. So the writers fight to keep the status quo! or maybe not the writers, but the producers. And you can feel the story and characters themselves bucking the restraints, trying to change, as any single change-- a dramatic reveal, a pair of characters hooking up, a new life choice-- threatens to ruin that status quo forever.

So what do you do? You make the characters forget. Forget the lessons, forget their character growth, break-up with their partner, return to the will-they-won't-they, forget, forget, forget. Reset; start again. Do it again, a little bit differently. Now they're neighbors. Now they're cowboys. Now there's a dog.

Or zoom out beyond individual series; look at the endless re-releases and reboots and adaptations. Do it again, but this time...

How long does it go on before the characters themselves rebel?